Scraps is a shallow, pert, unprincipled pedant, with barely the superficial requisites for a paragraph spinner and penny-a-line accident maker; and yet he is not without readers, as he has some tact in serving up scandal, defamation, and inuendo, which the success of some of your newspapers proves to be congenial with the taste of a portion of the public. As Caustic is prone to indulge in epigrams upon his associates, he has necessarily made some enemies, for you know, le monde pardonne plutôt une mauvaise action qu'un bon mot.' His lampoons, however, are generally directed against folly or conceit in some shape, although he occasionally descends to personalities. I will give a touch of his humour. The odd-looking gentleman with the rubicund nose yonder, to whom they have given the nickname of Bardolph, and who is as dull as he is dissipated, is a slave to his pipe. One night, a gentleman who sat near him, appeared so annoyed with the smoke, that Bardolph, who is a goodnatured simple soul, offered to lay down the pipe, upon which Caustic taking out his pencil wrote these lines, which he passed across the table, 'Puff on, puff on with all your might. Caustic, who, during the sitting of Parliament, reports for one of the leading morning journals, is engaged now, during the recess, upon an evening paper, and has, therefore, ample leisure to indulge in his propensity for turning night into day, which is one of his besetting sins. But suppose we listen to what is going forward; I have a notion it will repay you for the trouble." Ferdinand took the hint, and a scene followed which we shall here briefly sketch. "Your health, friend Caustic, (said the Chairman, filling a bumper;) thank you for your song; and now allow me to inquire whether you saw the American Roscius' make his début at Drury-lane this evening ?" "I did, (replied Caustic,) but I quitted the theatre after the second act, as I was eager to join your party. I have, however, notes of the two first acts, and as for the remainder the reports of the morning papers will help me out." “And what is your real opinion of Cooper's Macbeth ?” said the president. "Why, to speak the truth, (replied Caustic,) I think it a very clever performance, but as our journal is at present at war with the Drury-lane manager, and in the interest of Kean, my cue is to hunt down the Yankee intruder, and I accordingly hissed the poor devil most unmercifully, though it went against my conscience; but you know we can't 'quarrel with our bread and cheese;' I must, therefore, lash the fellow in to-morrow's Moon, but I will make some amends in the Comet, with which I am connected on terms which leave me independent. Thus, if I administer the whip with one hand, I shall apply a plaster with the other, and so ease my conscience." "Och, by the powers! (exclaimed Mr. O'Rafferty, who sat opposite to Caustic,) you'd better be aisey talking about conscience, if you're going to trate the poor fellow after that fashion. Fait, if you have any conscience at all, it must be made of India rubber." "That sneer (rejoined Caustic, with a sarcastic look) comes mighty well from one who is every day writing philippics against the Catholics and their friends, though we all know that he is friendly at heart to their cause, and though, as any one may tell by his brogue, he is himself an Irishman." "Do you mane to insult me?" (said O'Rafferty, assuming an attitude which portended immediate hostilities.) The chairman, however, in an authoritative tone, insisted upon order, and called upon, three of the company for a glee, who immediately struck up "A bumper, a bumper, a bumper of good liquor, Will end this contest quicker Than jury, judge, or vicar, So fill the sparkling glass." The President then ruled that Caustic and O'Rafferty should take wine together and not fall out about a trifle, which is all in 'the way of trade; and thus the affair ended. "Bardolph, (said the Chairman,) favour us with a toast; something lively, if you please." "Egad, (said Quiz,) it is whimsical enough to call upon a sleeping man for something lively. Friend Bardolph is dreaming, I presume, of his mistress, for the poor fellow has lately fallen a prey to the tender passion. Before he closed his eyes he communicated the secret to me in confidence, and told me, with a sigh, as he swallowed off a half pint tumbler of brandy, that the flame his Delia had lighted up within him, would never be quenched until he was in his grave. Egad! Bardolph's plight reminds me of the verses, 'Love is a fire that burns and sparkles, As naturally in man as charcoals.' What with the flame Delia has lighted up in his heart, and that which Bacchus has lighted up on his nose, our poor friend, like a vessel between two fires, is in a hopeful way." "Bardolph, however, is not so entirely devoted to the lady as absolutely to abandon his glass, it seems, (said Caustic;) like the renowned Captain Wattle, 'He is all for love and a little for the bottle.' This sally caused a general laugh at the expense of poor Bardolph, who joined chorus with the nasal organ which had been the subject of their merriment. I wonder, (said the President, looking at his watch,) what detains Scraps so unusually long?" "He'll be here presently, (said Caustic,) or I shall be disappointed. I owe the fellow a grudge, and mean to be even with him. I have a capital hoax prepared for him, which is sure to answer if you don't spoil the sport. You know that Scraps will be obliged to get up a critique on Cooper's Macbeth, for to-morrow's Luminary, as his precious morning paper is whimsically called. I guessed how it would be with him, as I know the fellow's tact and his capabilities. I accordingly popped in upon him just before the play began, and found he had been toiling ever since dinner at his critique, which is, by this time, arranged for the paper, although Scraps has never stirred out of his own room. He has been rummaging the American papers for comments upon Cooper's performance, which have enabled him to string together a column of patchwork, to be headed 'original strictures.' If Scraps did not thus prepare his critiques in advance, if he were obliged always to attend the theatre to see what he attempts to describe, the Luminary would seldom be out before noon, for no drudgery can surpass that which it costs the driveller to prepare a few score lines on the spur of the moment.” "You are out there, friend Caustic, (said Quiz,) for though I grant it may be a severe toil to compose the critiques for the Luminary, it is ten times severer to read and comprehend them. By the bye, I have often thought that same Luminary ought to be called the Dark Lantern, seeing that the editor's wit is, as Swift says, 'like a dark lantern which serves his own turn, and guides him in his own way, but which is never known, according to the Scripture phrase, either to shine forth before men, or to glorify his father in heaven." " "By Jove, a good thought! (exclaimed half a dozen voices. together;) let us from henceforth dub our bright friend the knight of the Dark Lantern." This proposal produced a general laugh, during which Scraps entered the room exclaiming, "Egad, gentlemen, you seem very merry; some silly joke let off by Caustic, I presume?" It was, as you say, a silly affair that we were laughing at, sure enough, (said the Chairman;) but be seated, Scraps; you are late, and seem to have got a wet jacket." "I never was out on a much worse night, (said Scraps ;) as we say in France, Il pleut à verse." "A plague on your outlandish lingo, (said Bardolph, who had by this time finished his nap;) the pedant is always boring us with his scraps of French; why don't you say at once, in good English, 'It rains cats and dogs ?"" 'Ay, and puppies too," said Caustic, pointing at Scraps, who was so accustomed to being laughed at, that he pocketed the affront, and consoled himself with a pint tumbler of whiskey punch. "Has any gentleman here seen Cooper's Macbeth this evening?" said Quiz, who had taken the cue from Caustic. "No one (said Caustic,) could possibly have seen Macbeth to-night, because it was not acted; as the matter-of-fact Governor, in Sheridan's Critic, profoundly observed to his romantic daughter, 'Daughter, thou can'st not see the British fleet, "Are you really serious? (said Scrap, in the greatest trepidation;) or are you at your old tricks again? If what you say is true, I must be off instantly to be in time to cancel my critique upon Cooper ?" "Your critique? (said O'Rafferty,) and so you have been cutting up the poor stranger without seeing him; dfly away with me if that's fair play." "The fact is, friend Scrap, (said Caustic, with the most persuasive gravity,) Cooper being indisposed, the play was |