at the Chapter Coffee House, or any evening at the Pewter Platter,
except Sunday, and he usually spent his Sunday evenings at Mr.
Bryant's. Mr. Plush was one who prudently avoided meddling with
politics, "For who knows," said he, "but that it may some day or
other cost me a dinner?" He was for the most part tolerably loyal, but
democratic beef would not choke him. To crown the whole, he was
imperturbably good-natured.

Early in the first volume we are introduced to Wilkes and Doctor
Johnson: this is rather a hazardous experiment of the author, but is
executed with success. Atherton, the hero, is then a city apprentice.
These were the days of Wilkes and Liberty, and Atherton, through his
protracted attachment to the cause, is _locked out_ by his master,
John Bryant.

* * * * *

As Atherton stood absorbed in thought at the eastern side of Temple
Bar, he was wakened from his reverie by two gentlemen coming through
the gate and talking somewhat loudly. One of them was a ponderous,
burly figure of rolling and shuffling gait puffing like a grampus, and
at his side staggered or skipped along a younger, slenderer person,
who hung swingingly and uncertainly on the arm of his elderly
companion. The older of the two was growling out something of a
reproof to his unsteady companion, who flourished his arm as with the
action of an orator and hiccupped according to the best of his then
ability something like apology or vindication. The effect of this
action was to throw him off his balance, to unlock his arm from his
more steady supporter and to send himself with a hopping reel off the
pavement. To a dead certainty he would have deposited his unsober self