Such a Sensation has been created in the Clubs by the appearance of the last paper on Club Snobs, as can’t but be complimentary to me who am one of their number.

I belong to many Clubs. The ‘Union Jack,’ the ‘Sash and Marlin-spike’— Military Clubs. ‘The True Blue,’ the ‘No Surrender,’ the ‘Blue and Buff,’ the ‘Guy Fawkes,’ and the ‘Cato Street’— Political Clubs. ‘The Brummel’ and the ‘Regent’— Dandy Clubs. The ‘Acropolis,’ the ‘Palladium,’ the ‘Areopagus,’ the ‘Pnyx’ the ‘Pentelicus,’ the ‘Ilissus’ and the ‘Poluphloisboio Thalasses’— Literary Clubs. I never could make out how the latter set of Clubs got their names; I don’t know Greek for one, and I wonder how many other members of those institutions do? Ever since the Club Snobs have been announced, I observe a sensation created on my entrance into any one of these places. Members get up and hustle together; they nod, they scowl, as they glance towards the present Snob. ‘Infernal impudent jackanapes! If he shows me up,’ says Colonel Bludyer, ‘I’ll break every bone in his skin.’ ‘I told you what would come of admitting literary men into the Club,’ says Ranville Ranville to his colleague, Spooney, of the Tape and Sealing-Wax Office. ‘These people are very well in their proper places, and as a public man, I make a point of shaking hands with them, and that sort of thing; but to have one’s privacy obtruded upon by such people is really too much. Come along, Spooney,’ and the pair of prigs retire superciliously.

As I came into the coffee-room at the ‘No Surrender,’ old Jawkins was holding out to a knot of men, who were yawning, as usual. There he stood, waving the STANDARD, and swaggering before the fire. ‘What,’ says he, ‘did I tell Peel last year? If you touch the Corn Laws, you touch the Sugar Question; if you touch the Sugar, you touch the Tea. I am no monopolist. I am a liberal man, but I cannot forget that I stand on the brink of a precipice; and if were to have Free Trade, give me reciprocity. And what was Sir Robert Peel’s answer to me? “Mr. Jawkins,” he said —’

Here Jawkins’s eye suddenly turning on your humble servant, he stopped his sentence, with a guilty look — his stale old stupid sentence, which every one of us at the Club has heard over and over again.

Jawkins is a most pertinacious Club Snob. Every day he is at that fireplace, holding that STANDARD, of which he reads up the leading-article, and pours it out ORE ROTUNDO, with the most astonishing composure, in the face of his neighbour, who has just read every word of it in the paper. Jawkins has money, as you may see by the tie of his neckcloth. He passes the morning swaggering about the City, in bankers’ and brokers parlours, and says:—‘I spoke with Peel yesterday, and his intentions are so and so. Graham and I were talking over the matter, and I pledge you my word of honour, his opinion coincides with mine; and that What-d&............