"The sun was in the heavens; and the proud day Attended, with the pleasures of the world." PISISTRATUS, (_lowering the glass_.)--To St James's Square? PEACOCK.--No, no; to London Bridge. "How use doth breed a habit in a man!" I will go on--honour bright. So I met Mr Vivian, and as he had known me in better days, and has a good heart of his own, he says-- "Horatio,--or I do forget myself." Pisistratus puts his hand on the check-string. PEACOCK.--I mean, (_correcting himself_)--"Why, Johnson, my good fellow." PISISTRATUS.--Johnson!--oh that's your name--not Peacock. PEACOCK.--Johnson and Peacock both, (_with dignity_.) When you know the world as I do, sir, you will find that it is ill travelling this "naughty world" without a change of names in your portmanteau. "Johnson," says he, "my good fellow," and he pulled out his purse. "Sir," said I, "if, 'exempt from public haunt,' I could get something to do when this dross is gone. In London there are sermons in stones, certainly, but not 'good in everything,'--an observation I should take the liberty of making to the Swan, if he were not now, alas! 'the baseless fabric of a vision.'" PISISTRATUS.--Take care! PEACOCK--(_hurriedly_.)--Then says Mr Vivian, "If you don't mind wearing a livery, till I can provide for you more suitably, my old friend, there's a vacancy in the establishment of Mr Trevanion." Sir, I accepted the proposal, and that's why I wear this livery. PISISTRATUS.--And, pray, what business had you with that young woman, whom I take to be Miss Trevanion's maid?--and why should she come from Oxton to see you? I had expected that these questions would confound Mr Peacock, but if there really were anything in them to cause embarrassment, the _ci-devant_ actor was too practised in his profession to exhibit it. He merely smiled, and smoothing jauntily a very tumbled shirt-front, he said, "Oh sir, fie! 'Of this matter, Is little Cupid's crafty arrow made.' If you must know my love affairs, that young woman is, as the vulgar say, my sweetheart." "Your sweetheart!" I exclaimed, greatly relieved, and acknowledging at once the probability of the statement. "Yet," I added suspiciously--"yet, if so, why should she expect Mr Gower to write to her?" "You're quick of hearing, sir; but though 'All adoration, duty, and observance; All humbleness, and patience, and impatience,' the young woman will not marry a livery servant--proud creature, very proud!--and Mr Gower, you see, knowing how it was, felt for me, and told her, if I may take such liberty with the Swan, that she should ----'Never lie by Johnson's side With an unquiet soul,' for that he would get me a place in the Stamps! The silly girl said she would have it in black and white--as if Mr Gower would write to her!"