more meek, or resigned himself more pathetically to the persecutors. But
I am advancing matters. At this early time of which I write, a period not
twenty years since, surplices were not even thought of in conjunction
with sermons: clerical gentlemen have appeared in them, and under the
heavy hand of persecution have sunk down in their pulpits again, as Jack
pops back into his box. Charles Honeyman's elegant discourses were at
this time preached in a rich silk Master of Arts' gown, presented to him,
along with a teapot full of sovereigns, by his affectionate congregation
at Leatherhead.

But that I may not be accused of prejudice in describing Mrs. Newcome and
her family, and lest the reader should suppose that some slight offered
to the writer by this wealthy and virtuous banker's lady was the secret
reason for this unfavourable sketch of her character, let me be allowed
to report, as accurately as I can remember them, the words of a kinsman
of her own, ---- Giles, Esquire, whom I had the honour of meeting at her
table, and who, as we walked away from Bryanstone Square, was kind enough
to discourse very freely about the relatives whom he had just left.

"That was a good dinner, sir," said Mr. Giles, puffing the cigar which I
offered to him, and disposed to be very social and communicative. "Hobson
Newcome's table is about as good a one as any I ever put my legs under.
You didn't have twice of turtle, sir, I remarked that--I always do, at
that house especially, for I know where Newcome gets it. We belong to the
same livery in the City, Hobson and I, the Oystermongers' Company, sir,
and we like our turtle good, I can tell you--good, and a great deal of
it, you say. Hay, hay, not so bad!

"I suppose you're a young barrister, sucking lawyer, or that sort of
thing. Because you was put at the end of the table and nobody took notice