it was sometimes found necessary to entrust all things to the discretion of a dictator, whose duty it was “ to take care that the republic should receive no detriment.” But, without the pro visions of law—without the troubles and dangers which flowed from the R0 man practice, we are happy in the pos session of a host of such ofi‘icers, unre
cognized, it is true, but not the less efficient, whose chief employment and whose main delight it is, reckless of honor and emolument, to take care that
nothing detrimental happens to the re public. Their regards are always upon it, in jealous supervision. They are no speculative overseers, who imper fectly attend to exterior affairs, by lounging in slippered ease in luxurious offices, disporting themselves over the newspapers of the day. They are not influenced by the mere report of scouts or the sinister assertions of the inter ested ; but make it their daily practice to bear with their own ears and to see with their own eyes. Nay, they push their zealous watchfulness so far, that
they may often be seen in the exercise of their high functions when other mor tals, less gifted with discrimination, can discover nothing to excite their notice. When the pavior is at work in the high way, heaving the weighty rammer with most emphatic groan, not a pebble is driven to its place, that the genuine lounger has not marked in every stage of its progress. No gas-pipe is adjust ed without undergoing a similar scru tiny, and the sanctified spot where the pig was killed or the hound was run over, acquires such mysterious and fas_ cinating importance in the lounger’s estimation, that he will stand whole
days in sombre contemplation of so distinguished a locality. Even the base of Pompey’s statue, where great Caesar fell, could not prove more at tractive; and Rizzio’s blood, which stains the floor of Holyrood, is not more dear to the antiquary than are the marks left by an overturned wagon to the non-commissioned superintendents of the city. Indeed, they have been seen congregated for hours around the house from which the tenants moved on the previous night, without complying with the vexatious ceremony of paying the rent—a feudal exaction perpetuated by landlords for the perplexity of the people. Should a masterless hat be found, or a drop of blood be discovered
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on the street, it forms a nucleus for a gathering. No matter how slight the cause may seem to the ordinary intel lect, these are persons who look more deeply into things, and derive wisdom from circumstances apparently too tri vial to deserve regard. But they are secret, too. The per fect lounger, though prodigal of his presence, is a niggard with his words. It is his vocation to see, and not to speak. His inferences are locked with in the recesses of his own breast. He is wary and diplomatic, and not, like other individuals, to be sounded “from the lowest note to the top of his com pass,” by the curiosity of each passing stranger. He opposes no one in the acquisition of knowledge—he places no stumbling-blocks in the way; but by his taciturnity intimates that the results of his labors are not to be obtained for nothing. It is his motto that, if you wish for information, you must use the proper means to obtain it, for you have the same natural qualifications for the purpose as he. That this characteristic belongs to the street lounger—we have nothing to say about the inferior class who ope rate solely within walls—is evident from the fact that it rarely happens, in the course of the most inquisitive life, that any one, on approaching a crowd, can ascertain by inquiry of its compo nent members, why it has assembled. The question is either unheeded alto gether, or else a supercilious glance is turned upon the querist, with a laconic response that the party does not know. Ostensibly, nobody knows a jot about the matter, except the fortunate few who form the inner circle, and, as it were, hem in all knowledge. They who extricate themselves early from the interior pressure and walk away, either with smiling faces, as if the joke were good, or with a dejected ’havior of the visage, as if their sensibilities had been lacerated, even they “don’t know !” None will tell, except per chance it be a luckless urchin not yet taught to economise his facts, or some unsophisticated girl with a market bas ket, who talks for talking’s sake. But who believes that the initiated “ don’t know”—that the omnipresent lounger “ don’t know 1” It is not to be believ ed. He does know, but from some as yet undetermined and unappreciated singularity of his nature, it is rather his
