As to a bachelor, the general affirms that he is a free and easy man,
with no baggage to take care of but his portmanteau; but, as Major
Pendergast says, a married man, with his wife hanging on his arm, always
puts him in mind of a chamber candlestick, with its extinguisher hitched
to it. I should not mind all this if it were merely confined to the
general; but I fear he will be the ruin of my friend, Master Simon, who
already begins to echo his heresies, and to talk in the style of a
gentleman that has seen life, and lived upon the town. Indeed, the
general seems to have taken Master Simon in hand, and talks of showing
him the lions when he comes to town, and of introducing him to a knot of
choice spirits at the Mulligatawney Club; which, I understand, is
composed of old nabobs, officers in the Company's employ, and other "men
of Ind," that have seen service in the East, and returned home burnt out
with curry and touched with the liver complaint. They have their
regular club, where they eat Mulligatawney soup, smoke the hookah, talk
about Tippoo Saib, Seringapatam, and tiger-hunting; and are tediously
agreeable in each other's company.

[Illustration: Conjugal Extinguisher]




[Illustration: A Literary Antiquary]

A LITERARY ANTIQUARY.

Printed bookes he contemnes, as a novelty of this latter age;
but a manuscript he pores on everlastingly; especially if the