Piccadilly: A Fragment of Contemporary Biography

This Work originally appeared in 'Blackwood's Magazine,' and has been since revised and altered by the Author.
Some make love in poetry, And some in—Piccadilly.
—Praed.
Faithful.—'I say, then, in answer to what Mr Envy hath spoken, I never said aught but this, That what rule, or laws, or customs, or people, were flat against the Word of God, are diametrically opposed to Christianity. If I have said amiss in this, convince me of my error, and I am ready here, before you all, to make my recantation.' —Bunyan's 'Pilgrim's Progress.'
Five years have elapsed since the following pages were penned, and periodically issued, under an impulse which seemed at the time irresistible. I found myself unable, by any conscious act of volition, to control either the plot or the style. Nor from my present point of view do I particularly admire either the one or the other. At the same time, I have reason to hope that the republication of this sketch now, with all its defects, is calculated to do more good than harm to the society it attempts to delineate.
This conviction must be my apology for again forcing upon the public a fragment so hostile to it in tone and spirit. I would reiterate the observation made elsewhere in the work, that none of the characters are intended to represent any members of society who were then, or are now, alive.
Piccadilly, 2d February 1865 .
In a window, a few doors from Cambridge House, the following placard some time since invited, apparently without much effect, the notice of the passers-by,— To let, this desirable family mansion, After a considerable period the desirable family seem to have been given up in despair, and the words vanished from the scene; but the board in the window, beginning to let remained, while the mansion itself was converted upon it into unfurnished chambers.
As, in the words of that humble companion, whose life was rendered a burden to her by my poor dear mother, Money was not so much an object as a comfortable home, I did not hesitate to instal myself in the first floor, which possessed the advantage of a bay-window, with a double sash to keep out the noise, together with an extensive view of Green Park, and a sailor without legs perpetually drawing ships upon the opposite pavement, as a foreground. My friend Lord Grandon, who is an Irish peer with a limited income, took the floor above, as I was desirous of securing myself against thumping overhead; moreover, I am extremely fond of him. When I say that the position which I enjoy socially, is as well adapted for seeing life as the locality I selected for my residence, most of my more fashionable readers will intuitively discover who I am; fortunately, I have no cause to desire to maintain an incognito which would be impossible, though, perhaps, I ought to explain the motives which induce me now to bring myself even more prominently before the public than I have been in the habit of doing.