Before four o’clock the passage to the LARGE ROOM was crammed, when, on a hint that dinner was on the point of being served, one of the head waiters advanced to the great door, and opened a wicket for the admission of the company, as fast as they paid down their money. Two or three had already passed in good order, when Mr. John Nicholls advanced, and instead of 8s. 6d., produced to the astonished receiver, _seventeen_ of his PRINTED SPEECHES, which, valuing them at sixpence a-piece, he contended would make up the sum required. These “_assets_” however, were absolutely rejected; and a violent dispute was on the point of commencing, when Sir CHRISTOPHER HAWKINS stept forward, and whispering a few words, which we did not hear, obtained leave for his friend to pass. The Speeches were therefore deposited, and Mr. NICHOLLS was already got within the wicket, when the man suddenly pulled him back by the coat, and the dispute recommenced with more violence than ever. Upon inquiry into the cause of this new tumult, we found that a wag (whom we afterwards discovered to be Mr. JEKYLL) had played the member for Tregony a trick; having taken an opportunity, in the crowd, of extracting the _genuine_ speeches from the pocket of the Honourable Member, and replacing them by the same number of the _spurious_ ones, printed for Mr. WRIGHT, the publisher of this Paper. These the waiter very properly refused to receive, alleging, and indeed truly, that instead of _six_ pence a-piece, the whole seventeen were not worth _six_ farthings. This altercation continued so long, that the company grew impatient; and Mr. BRYAN EDWARDS, a little ashamed of his friend, who still continued obstinate, offered to furnish his quota. Harmony now seemed to be restored, when all at once a cry of astonishment broke forth that beggars all description. On putting his hand into his pocket for the price of admission, Mr. E. suddenly turned pale, and exclaimed, “by G—, gentlemen, some of you have picked my pockets!” A hundred voices instantly repeated the same cry, and a dreadful scene of confusion and uproar took place. Ardebant cuncta et fracta compage ruebant.