Survey this English nation, and behold a tall, clean, plump, and solid
people! Look at their cities! What magnificence in their public
buildings! What admirable order and propriety in their streets! Admire
their laws, combining the eternal principle of justice with the other
eternal principle of pounds, shillings, and pence; and applying the
product to all civil injuries, from an injury to a man's honour, to an
injury to a man's nose! You have ruined my daughter--pounds, shillings,
and pence! You have knocked me down with a blow in my face--pounds,
shillings, and pence! Where was the material prosperity of such a
country as _that_ to stop? Obenreizer, projecting himself into the
future, failed to see the end of it. Obenreizer's enthusiasm entreated
permission to exhale itself, English fashion, in a toast. Here is our
modest little dinner over, here is our frugal dessert on the table, and
here is the admirer of England conforming to national customs, and making
a speech! A toast to your white cliffs of Albion, Mr. Vendale! to your
national virtues, your charming climate, and your fascinating women! to
your Hearths, to your Homes, to your Habeas Corpus, and to all your other
institutions! In one word--to England! Heep-heep-heep! hooray!
Obenreizer's voice had barely chanted the last note of the English cheer,
the speechless friend had barely drained the last drop out of his glass,
when the festive proceedings were interrupted by a modest tap at the
door.
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