While the cloth was laid, the host and Thames descended to the cellar, whence they returned, laden with a number of flasks of the same form, and apparently destined to the same use as those depicted in Hogarth's delectable print—the Modern Midnight Conversation. ‘A word, if you please, my friend. ‘Tell me, my boy. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. The advanced guard rode on to drive away any opposition, while the main body of the procession crossed the bridge, and slowly toiled up Holborn Hill.
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