us now, Mr. Nabbem, in the zenith of our prosperity—we have filled our pockets, we have become great in the mouths of our party. Our pals admire us, and our blowens adore! What do we in this short-lived summer? Save, and be thrifty? Ah, no! we must give our dinners, and make light of our lush. We sport horses on the racecourse, and look big at the multitude we have bubbled. Is not this your Minister come into office? Does not this remind you of his equipage, his palace, his plate? In both cases, lightly won, lavishly wasted, and the public, whose cash we have fingered, may at least have the pleasure of gaping at the figure we make with it! This, then, is our harvest of happiness; our foes, our friends, are ready to eat us with envy—yet what is so little enviable as our station? Have we not both our common vexations and our mutual disquietudes? Do we not both bribe—(Nabbem shook his head and buttoned his waistcoat)—our enemies, cajole our partizans, bully our dependents, and quarrel with our only friends, viz. ourselves? Is not the secret question with each—It is all confoundedly fine; but how long will it
