pot hat, with a broad, turned-up brim? or
those boots, coming to a point, like a pair of
flat-irons? His eye-glass would be all right
enough if he would keep if, in his eye, and
look about him: though that heavy bunch
of seals, with their stones the colour of anchovy
sauce, dangling by a broad bit of black
ribbon, is a positive eyesore. Then why is
he continually disparaging young people?
Let me tell him young men are the blood of
the nation; they keep the world in motion.

Our club calls itself the "Youthful Britons"
not because we are all young fellows, but
because our taste and opinions are exactly
opposed to those of old Fitz-Baynard. Three-
score years, with us, is no objection to a
man, so long as he keeps his head up,
and does not hold the belief that whatever is
is right, and that whatever is not, oughtn't
to be. Our opinion is, that things generally
might be a great deal better than
they are; and that, whether in fashions,
politics, or social economics, when a hian
comes forward to do a little good, even though
he should propose to disturb the existing
order of things a little, he is entitled to fair
play. If any member uses the word "Utopian"
we line him. Not that we believe that there
are not many things well deserving of that
adjective; but, firstly, because we have seen so
many Utopian schemes pass into realities,
that we are suspicious of it; and, secondly,
because the word, from the time of Sir Thomas
More downwards, has been so much abused
that we think every honest man ought to
scratch it out of his dictionary. Why, the
very steel pen with which I write this, was
once an Utopian steel pen—a new-fangled
pen—a mere toy—a thing that never could
and never would supersede the good, old,
stout goose-quill, that you went cutting away,
and notching, and slitting up the middle,
and pointing, and nibbing every quarter of an
hour. There was not an old man in the three
kingdoms—unless it was a schoolmaster, sick
of hearing little boys standing of a row beside
his desk all day, with the eternal refrain of
"Pleasir, will you mend my pen?"—who did
not say that they would not answer. In vain
we pointed to the increase of the number who
were taught to write, the spread of literature,
and the insufficiency of all the geese in
the kingdom to the growing demand for
feathers. They shook their heads. "You
will do as you please, sir; but give me a
good, strong-barrelled goose-quill." And so
say their survivors to this day. They don't
believe in the millions of grosses that are said
to be made in Birmingham every day. "They
don't know. They never see anything but
quills wherever they go. Where are they
all, if such a number is made? " If there
had been none but old men, we should have
had no steel pens to this day. But the boys
took them up. They wrote the Creed with
them in the size of a split-pea; they did the
Ten Commandments, and illustrated them
with spread eagles and cherubim, and set
them up in the windows of steel-pen makers,
until there was no shutting the eyes to their
merits, and a revolution was partially accomplished.
We all use steel pens to a man. I
will add that when that admirable invention,
a candle which requires no snuffing, was universally
decided to be fandangle, we unanimously
adopted it; and have never had a
pair of snuffers on our tables since.

When Mr. Winsor lighted his house with
gas, the Edinburgh Review said it wouldn't
do; and the Fitz-Baynards of 1805 applauded,
and thought they and the reviewers had put
it out for ever. Now, even Westminster Hall
- the last place where a man would look for
novelty- is lighted with it. When I look
around me, and see the endless variety of
new-fangled things, which it has been confidently
said a thousand times "would never
do," which have now become familiar servants,
or absolute necessaries, I am inclined to propose
that the word "Utopian" be reinstated;
and that its employment, in a youthful Britonian
sense, be henceforth encouraged. Have
we not Utopian Railways, and Utopian Ragged
Schools; impossible Telegraphs; ruinous Free
Trade, and dangerous County Courts where
plaintiff and defendant are admitted to give
evidence, in direct opposition to one of the
most venerable law maxims, in the immortal
Latin language; all in full operation, and the
constitution as sound as ever? Why, then,
should we shrink from admitting that the
abolition of the Court of Chancery is somewhat
Utopian; and that the demolition of
Temple Bar, and removal of Smithfield and
slaughter-houses, are notions a little tainted
with fandangleism?

Personally, I do not mind acknowledging
that I am fond of novelty. I like to be up to
the time. One or two instances will suffice
to show what I mean. I can remember
Kemble, Cooke, Elliston, Kean, and the legitimate
drama, for example; but I never talk
about them, because I like the opera. I
believe the notes of Mario, in the " Prophet,"
to be at least as pleasing to the ear as the
rolling r's of the late Mr. Kemble. Many a
pleasant day I have spent outside the stage-coach;
but I do not grumble at railways. If
any man says you cannot enjoy a sight of the
country from a railway carriage, I differ with
him. If he says you have no time to observe
a hedge or a post against your nose, I admit
it; but let him take a view of the country,
and I say he will, in most cases, remain long
enough in the same landscape to observe its
beauties. I consider the late change in the
Ministry as decidedly no improvement; but
I hope I am as free from prejudice as any
man. I am ready to try anything except
patent medicines and Protectionist Ministers.
Attracted by an announcement in the Times
(for example) that "Hadjee Allee, the celebrated
Indian cook, having arrived at the
Bengal Hotel, makes Indian Dupeajja, and