coinage of words and fantasies of phrases which will scarcely be
understood, much less relished, twenty years hence. But the style
throughout is plain, sensible, and natural, free from caricature, and
more that of _the world_ than of _the book_.

The plot is of the tale or adventure description; certainly not new,
but its interest turns upon points which will never cease to attract a
reader. We do not enter into it, but prefer taking a few of the
characters to show the rank of life as well as the style of the
materials. The first is a portrait of a London citizen sixty years
since:--

At the Pewter Platter there were two arm chairs, one near the door and
the other near the window, and both close by the fire, which were
invariably occupied by the same gentlemen. One of these was Mr.
Bryant, citizen and stationer, but not bookseller, save that he sold
bibles, prayer-books and almanacks; for he seriously considered that
the armorial bearings of the Stationers' Company displaying three
books between a chevron, or something of that kind, for he was not a
dab at heraldry, mystically and gravely set forth that no good citizen
had occasion for more than three books, viz. bible, prayer-book and
almanack. Mr. Bryant was a bachelor of some sixty years old or
thereabouts. He had a snug little business though but a small
establishment; for it was his maxim not to keep more cats than would
catch mice. His establishment consisted of only two individuals; a
housekeeper and an apprentice. His housekeeper was one Mrs. Dickinson,
a staid, sober, matronly looking personage, who tried very hard, but
not very successfully, to pass for about forty years of age; the good
woman, though called Mrs. Dickinson, was a spinster, and according to
her own account was of a good family, for her great uncle was a