My companion on the other side was a thick-set, middle-aged man, uncouth in manners, and ugly where none were handsome, with a dark, roughly hewn visage, that looked grim in repose, and seemed to hold within itself the machinery of a very terrific frown.  He ate with resolute appetite, and let slip few opportunities of imbibing whatever liquids happened to be passing by.  I was meditating in what way this grisly-featured table-fellow might most safely be accosted, when he turned to me with a surly sort of kindness, and invited me to take a glass of wine.  We then began a conversation that abounded, on his part, with sturdy sense, and, somehow or other, brought me closer to him than I had yet stood to an Englishman.  I should hardly have taken him to be an educated man, certainly not a scholar of accurate training; and yet he seemed to have all the resources of education and trained intellectual power at command.  My fresh Americanism, and watchful observation of English characteristics, appeared either to interest or amuse him, or perhaps both.  Under the mollifying influences of abundance of meat and drink, he grew very gracious, (not that I ought to use such a phrase to describe his evidently genuine good-will,) and by-and-by expressed a wish for further acquaintance, asking me to call at his rooms in London and inquire for Sergeant Wilkins,—­throwing out the name forcibly, as if he had no occasion to be ashamed of it.  I remembered Dean Swift’s retort to Sergeant Bettesworth on a similar announcement,—­“Of what regiment, pray, Sir?”—­and fancied that the same question might not have been quite amiss, if applied to the rugged individual at my side.  But I heard of him subsequently as one of the prominent men at the English bar, a rough customer, and a terribly strong champion in criminal cases; and it caused me more regret than might have been expected, on so slight an acquaintanceship, when, not long afterwards, I saw his death announced in the newspapers.  Not rich in attractive qualities, he possessed, I think, the most attractive one of all,—­thorough manhood.

After the cloth was removed, a goodly group of decanters were set before the Mayor, who sent them forth on their outward voyage, full freighted with Port, Sherry, Madeira, and Claret, of which excellent liquors, methought, the latter found least acceptance among the guests.  When every man had filled his glass, his Worship stood up and proposed a toast.  It was, of course, “Our gracious Sovereign,” or words to that effect; and immediately a band of musicians, whose preliminary tootings and thrummings I had already heard behind me, struck up “God save the Queen,” and the whole company rose with one impulse to assist in singing that famous national anthem.  It was the first time in my life that I had ever seen a body of men, or even a single man, under the active influence of the sentiment of Loyalty; for, though we call ourselves loyal to our country and institutions, and prove it