from the depressed state of the market, to lay in a large stock of Irish linen at unheard-of low prices.—My next is one of quite antiquarian research. It begins with an allusion to Lady Fanshaw's Memoirs, when Hart Street, St. Olave, was a fashionable part of London—is philosophical with reference to the many changes of fashion—that capricious divinity, as it poetically entitles her—and finishes by rejoicing to see Leicester Square recovering much of its former splendour, when princes were its inhabitants, and noblemen were its wayfarers; and this we are informed is in consequence of the crowds of carriages which assemble daily to inspect Newton's tremendous bargains of Gros de Naples and French ginghams. And here is the worst of all, 'the Music of the Mazurka, as danced by the Duke of Devonshire'—shades of Paul and Vestris, welcome your illustrious competitor, 'as danced by the Duke of Devonshire!'"
"I think," replied Mr. Delawarr, "the Duke might fairly bring his action for libel."
"What! place his refined exclusiveness, as the Duke of Wellington did his chivalrous sense of honour, for the judgment of twelve tallow-chandlers! Let them ask for redress if
