proof positive that the decorated men of
France are not to be compared, either in
number or qualifications, with the testimonialed
men in England. You go into an
omnibus, and think perhaps the flat-faced
individual sitting opposite—who insists on
having all the windows closed though the
heat is stifling—is some vulgar fellow of no
consideration, whom it would be a sort of
compliment to mistake for a scavenger retired
from trade—tremble, O foolish passenger
—you are sitting face to face with Muggins
of Bolton Ditches, in Suffolk, who was
presented with a Steel, inlaid with silver, and a
velvet scabbard for the same, by his
appreciating townsmen and friends on the fiftieth
anniversary of his first slaughtering day.
He is a carcase-butcher. I subscribed to the
testimonial.

Farther up in the omnibus is a thin-faced
man in spectacles—silent, and apparently
thinking of nothing but the three-pence
which he holds in his hand. Wrong again!
He started nine years ago as apothecary in
Snobston Priors, in Essex, sold very little
medicine, dabbled in the tobacco and
meerschaum trade, got into bad health, failed,
and was presented by his neighbours and
customers with a silver pestle, with a glowing
inscription on the handle, in which his
nine years' residence and rheumatic gout
were duly commemorated. I subscribed to
the testimonial.

The county of Wilts was unanimous on
the merits of Sir Barber Shooks. He had
been a distinguished hero in the
Russian war, and exceedingly anxious to storm
Sebastopol by himself; but had been
prevented from doing so by a violent cold
in the head, which confined him to his
villa on the Bosporus, while the siege was
going on. He had at one time so far recovered
that he was able to join a commander, such
as is not often met with in the pages of
Plutarch, in nursing their respective snuffles
in a yacht in Balaclava harbour. The fate
of the beleaguered city was now close at hand,
and would have been decided long before the
attack on the Malakhoff was thought of; but
the obstinate defluxion would not disappear,
and Sir Barber and his noble friend were
left to lament the state of their health, and
return thanks at triumphant dinners on their
return, for the enthusiasm with which their
humble efforts had been received. We
presented him with a sword—the handle of
polished steel, the blade of frosted silver, with
an inscription recording his gallantry and
zeal. I subscribed to the testimonial.

There were two clergymen at Stoke Slavers,
both exceedingly sincere preachers of the
religion of love and charity, who hated each
other to such a degree that they disturbed
the whole town with their mutual criminations.
I don't understand much about
doctrines; being satisfied that, on the whole, the
intention of the Good News was to cheer and
elevate the hearts of men; so that I confess
I was rather surprised to hear Mr. Ogle
Small maintain, apparently to the great
edification of the congregation, that he was all
right, but that they (except one or two) were
in a far more hopeless state than pagans or
heathens; and the clearer his proofs were of
this appalling state of affairs, the greater the
pleasure of the audience seemed to be. He
distinctly told the two Miss Paragons (two of
the nicest girls you ever saw, generous as
Jenny Lind, and self-devoted as Miss
Nightingale), that their hearts were unfathomable
receptacles of vice and every wicked thought;
and the blushing pair hung upon the thin
bloodless lips of the liberal-minded preacher
as if his accusation was all true. He said at
the same time (which was highly consoling
to us), that purity, loving-kindness, charity,
and all the virtues, were seated for ever in
his revivified nature; and of course in a
short time he was presented with a teapot
and pair of goloshes, a Bible and a dozen of
dessert spoons, a Life of Calvin, three pairs
of flannel drawers, and a very slim umbrella.
An address was likewise drawn up,
highly complimentary of his eloquence and
zeal in rescuing his flock from the machinations
of the enemy, and congratulating
the parish on the possession of so earnest a
professor. I subscribed to the testimonial.

I changed my lodging, and carried with
me all my chattels. I thought it right,
therefore, as I put trunks and boxes
into the care of my landlady, to place my
parochial instruction in charge of the Reverend
Hildebrand Strong. His congregation
were still more attached to their pastor than
the other. He walked up the aisle, followed
by the clerk, as if he were at the head of a
regiment of soldiers. Then he was incredibly
polite, and performed such a series of bows
as he got up to the desk, that you thought
he had mistaken his profession, and should
have been M.C. at Bath or Cheltenham. Then
he brought in such irresistible names in his
discourses—martyrs, and saints, and fathers,
and Nicene, and Antenicene, and showed
such contempt for the lank-haired ascetic
Pharisees, who rejected the authority of the
wise of old, that of course he was
presented with pulpit cushions and vestry
carpets, vast candelabra which were never to
be used, and a silver salver and six dozen of
Lafitte's finest claret; for he was rich and
social, gave good dinners and fed the poor—
was liberal in purse and person—advised,
aided, comforted all the friendless and afflicted
—and was one of the best cricketers I ever
knew. I subscribed to the testimonial.

The sagacious reader will perhaps ask, why
I am always called upon on these interesting
occasions, and what connection I had with
carcase-butchers, or apothecaries, or Crimean
heroes, or contending churchmen. Why, what
connection has anybody with the hundredth
part of the recipients of all these friendly