many struggle in vain and are lost. The young Scotchman succeeded better with his sharp intelligence and his untiring perseverance,—he is now known as the author of some of the best standard works on law, and he has forced his way into the Parliament where he honestly labours, as opportunity occurs, for the good of the dumb millions of India. As I was sitting in his chambers one morning, and he was listlessly opening the covers on his table, he was suddenly struck by one letter which he handed over to me. It was a whip from the liberal leaders,—underlined four or five times, and demanding his attendance in the house on the same night as the division on the Irish Question was likely to take place. I attended the house during the animated Irish debates on one or two nights,—but of this I will speak further on.
I asked him about another friend of our olden days, Mr. S. who also used often to dine with us in the Middle Temple Hall. And on more than one occasion Mr. and Mrs. S. had formed a party with us for an excursion on the Thames or elsewhere. I was grieved to learn that Mr. S. was dead; eighteen years had passed since my last visit to England, and many who were then living are now no more.
But I need not tire my reader with any further account of my old friends whom I now met again, or of those whom I did not meet.
Let me talk now of something practical,—and House-keeping in House-keeping.London is certainly intensely practical as every one has found who has tried it.
