Miseries of London.—Being a compulsory spectator and auditor of a brawling and scratching match between two drunken drabs, in consequence of the sudden influx of company, by whom you are hemmed in a hundred yards deep in every direction, leaving you no chance of escape till the difference of sentiment between the ladies is adjusted. Where you stand you are (that is, I was) closely bounded in front by a barrow of cat's meat, the unutterable contents of which employ your eyes and nose, while your ear is no less fully engaged by the Tartarean yell of its driver. (1807.)
Miseries of Travelling.—On packing up your clothes for a journey, because your servant is a fool, the burning fever into which you are thrown when, after all your standing, stamping, kneeling, tugging, and kicking, the lid of your trunk refuses to approach within a yard of the lock. (1807.)
More Miseries. Published by R. Ackermann.—Being pinned up to a door, round the neck, by the horns of an enraged overdriven ox. (April 1, 1807.)
Miseries of the Country.—While on a visit in the Hundred of Essex being under the necessity of getting dead-drunk every day to save your life. (See 1807, [p. 78].)
Et propter vitam vivendi perdere causas....
Miseries of Social Life.—Dining and passing the whole evening with a party of fox-hunters, after they have had what they call 'glorious sport;' and, while you execrate the very name of a hound, being gorged with the crambe recocta of one chase after another, till you wish the country was underground. (January 1, 1807.)
THE MICROCOSM OF LONDON,
OR