Here the eloquent gentleman, having made a paper ball of the last number of the _Allgemeine Zeitung_, sate down amidst the vociferous applause of the assembly. He was the first orator who had spoken, and I believe had been selected to lead the van on account of his platform experience, which was very great. I cannot say, however, that his arguments produced entire conviction upon my mind, or that of my companion, judging from certain muttered adjurations which fell from Wilkinson, to the effect that on the first convenient opportunity he would take means to make the crumpler-up of nations atone for his scurrilous abuse of the army. We were next favoured with addresses in Sclavonian, German, and French; and then another British orator came forward to enlighten the public. This last was a fellow of some fancy. Avoiding all stale topics about despotism, aristocracies, and standing armies, he went to the root of the matter, by asserting that in Vegetarianism alone lay the true escape from the horrors and miseries of war. Mr Belcher--for such was the name of this distinguished philanthropist--opined that without beef and mutton there never could be a battle. "Had Napoleon," said he, "been dieted from his youth upwards upon turnips, the world would have been spared those scenes of butchery, which must ever remain a blot upon the history of the present century. One of our oldest English annalists assures us that Jack Cade, than whom, perhaps, there never breathed a more uncompromising enemy of tyranny, subsisted entirely upon spinach. This fact has been beautifully treated by Shakspeare, whose passion for onions was proverbial, in his play of Henry VI., wherein he represents Cade, immediately before his death, as engaged in the preparation of a salad. I myself," continued Mr Belcher in a slightly flatulent tone, "can assure this honourable company, that for more than six months I have cautiously abstained from using any other kind of food, except broccoli, which I find at once refreshing and laxative, light, airy, and digestible!" Mr Belcher having ended, a bearded gentleman, who enjoyed the reputation of being the most notorious duellist in Europe, rose up for the purpose of addressing the audience; but by this time the afternoon was considerably advanced, and a large number of the Congress had silently seceded to the _roulette_ and _rouge-et-noir_ tables. Among these, to my great surprise, were Miss Latchley and Mr Pettigrew: it being, as I afterwards understood, the invariable practice of this gifted lady, whenever she could secure a victim, to avail herself of his pecuniary resources; so that if fortune declared against her, the gentleman stood the loss, whilst, in the opposite event, she retained possession of the spoil. I daresay some of my readers may have been witnesses to a similar arrangement.