There he sits writing opposite to me.

To whom, for a ducat?
To some secretary of an Hibernian Bible Society; or to some old woman who gives cheap tracts, instead of blankets, to the starving peasantry of Connemara; or to some good Protestant Lord who bullies his Popish tenants.

Reject not my letter, though it is redolent of cigars and genuine pigtail; for this is the room-- The room,--but I think I'll describe it in rhyme, That smells of tobacco and chloride of lime.

The smell of tobacco was always the same; But the chloride was brought since the cholera came.
But I must return to prose, and tell you all that has fallen out since I wrote last.

I have been dining with the Listers at Knightsbridge.
They are in a very nice house, next, or almost next, to that which the Wilberforces had.