But Ching most opportunely made

A sortie in the Humourist's aid;

And whispered low, as towards the door, With Chang, like ship in tow, swift sailing--"Talking of love, 'tis time and more

"To go, dear Chang, about the scaling!"

Soon as the startled Jester gains
The even tenor of his veins---

"Is there no place Man scapes from feeling
"The insidious blows of double dealing?"
He said--and all athirst to quaff
That dram to wits professed-a laugh--
He turned for Julian's approbation,
But found him vanished from his station,
Gone also on an assignation.

END OF CHAPTER II. OF BOOK II.

BOOK THE SECOND.

CHAPTER III.

ARGUMENT.

Night in the streets of London-Knowledge-Feeling suppressedHodges wandering homeward-His gallant, but melancholy adventure -He arrives at his home-The spectacle there reserved for a father's eyes-His speech-The answer made to it-The finale to a very distressing scene-Lady Frances and her friends-The InterruptionThe Danger-The Escape-The Muse explains-A Caution to young ladies-Bond-street apostrophized—* *'s Hotel faithfully described-Ching's improper levity-A Battle-The Prison.

CHAPTER III.

NIGHT-the grey mother of the Charlies
Who live no more the parish fund on ;
Still from her drowsy watch-box parlies
With her old gossip, Mother London.

The charming retail of their scandal
My prudence bids me fear to handle ;
Law-fain to drive the babbling vice hence,
Keeps to itself the retail licence.

Yet will dear spite from such restriction,
Escape sometimes to works of fiction;
And if to facts I now must grovel—
Why-only buy my next new novel!

And Silence through the lamp-lit streets

Hath left man's dwellings to the fairies ;

Save when some cat the wanderer meets

Glide thro'-what Betty calls-the airies. Then on the ear of midnight grew,

The cadence of the varying mew;

"It rose-that chanted, mournful strain---
"Like some lone spirits' o'er the plain.
""Twas musical-but sadly sweet-
Until in answer to the call

You heard, some feline Juliet greet
Its little Romeo from the wall.

Then wildly changed the note of feeling,
And softness sharpened into squealing.
Ev'n as in Melmoth's mighty tale

'Tis told, how-of the power of evilAerial music did not fail.

To play-before he played the devil!

The chimneys in the shining air,
Look desolate and lone,

Like ruined Schemes, they wonder where

Their pretty smoke hath gone.

Anon from some high room you see

The calm light of the taper,

By which perchance-some bard like me,

Stamps glory into paper.

Thee, Knowledge, thirsting to inherit,

What nights have I outwatched the stars!