I have not inquired among my medical acquaintance, whether Turtle,
and cold Punch, with Hock, Champagne, and Claret, and all the
slight et cetera usually included in an unlimited order for a good
dinner - especially when it is left to the liberal construction of
my faultless friend, Mr. Radley, of the Adelphi Hotel - are
peculiarly calculated to suffer a sea-change; or whether a plain
mutton-chop, and a glass or two of sherry, would be less likely of
conversion into foreign and disconcerting material. My own opinion
is, that whether one is discreet or indiscreet in these
particulars, on the eve of a sea-voyage, is a matter of little
consequence; and that, to use a common phrase, 'it comes to very
much the same thing in the end.' Be this as it may, I know that
the dinner of that day was undeniably perfect; that it comprehended
all these items, and a great many more; and that we all did ample
justice to it. And I know too, that, bating a certain tacit
avoidance of any allusion to to-morrow; such as may be supposed to
prevail between delicate-minded turnkeys, and a sensitive prisoner
who is to be hanged next morning; we got on very well, and, all
things considered, were merry enough.

When the morning - THE morning - came, and we met at breakfast, it
was curious to see how eager we all were to prevent a moment's
pause in the conversation, and how astoundingly gay everybody was:
the forced spirits of each member of the little party having as
much likeness to his natural mirth, as hot-house peas at five
guineas the quart, resemble in flavour the growth of the dews, and
air, and rain of Heaven. But as one o'clock, the hour for going
aboard, drew near, this volubility dwindled away by little and
little, despite the most persevering efforts to the contrary, until
at last, the matter being now quite desperate, we threw off all