The British Press; or, Morning Literary Advertiser.
London, England, 1824-06-04 00:00:00

EVERY-D.IY PEOPLE.

( From the New Monthlg Magazige.l
My Aunt Edwards is continually railing at Every-day
People. She became acquainted with the Cooksons, last
Antonin, at Ramsgate : the young folks used to walk to-
gether upon the Pier, from morning to night, and, when
they arrived at the extremity of that noble buttress, old
Cookson used to lodge his telescope upon the dwarf granite
wall, and let all the young Edwards:s, one after another,
peep through it at the French coast. My Aunt Edwards
and Mrs. Cookson rode over to Broadstairs three mornings
in the sante carriage; so that it seemed in a fair way of
being a thick and thiw business. But when the two
families returned to London, affairs assumed a colder com-
ple%ion. My Aunt Edwards lives in Fitzroy-square, and
the Cooksons only in (lower-street. This is very touch
against them ; indeed, it has induced my Aunt to denomi-
nate them " every-day people." They did well enough at
Itantsgate: one must not be too particular, especially since
the invention of steam-beats ; but my Aunt Edwards must
say, that, without meaning to detract from the merits of
the Mall—what's his name (Watt is his name) wbo in-
vented steam, he has much tag-rag and bobtail to answer
for at Itanisp,ate. The fare to Margate is such a trifle ; the
breakfasts on board are really so very respectable; and the
eighteen-peony carriage overland to ltamsgate is so very
moderate, that it is no wonder so many every-day people
come smoking and dabbling down every Saturday. Know-
ing the Cookson, to be good sort of people, as well asevery-
day ones, I begged my Aunt Edwards to grant them a new
trial in London ; but no, she was inexorable; the residence
in Gower-street operated as a bar; Bedford-square she
would not have minded; even Russell-place might have
been passed over with a suitable apology ; but Grower-street
could only be tenanted by every-day people. I took no-

thing by my motion.
Whilst on a visit to my Aunt in Albion-place. I became
acquainted with Charles Cookson, the eldest son of the sub-
sequently proscribed family. We rode together on horse-
back to .Kingsgate, upon which occasion I obtained much
information from him. I bear it, I hope, in grateful
memory. Ile pointed out to me certain hills across the
email, and told me that was the French coast. Horseback,
he added, was a healthful exercise, much more so, indeed,
than riding in a close carriage. When we arrived at
Broadstairs, he said that Broadstairs was not nearly so
large as Ramsgate, adding that the two Piers would not
bear a moment's comparison. He, moreover, connected it
as curious, that there should bean Albion Hotel at the one
place, and an Albion Place at the other. The colour of
the sea, too, according to him, was sometimes green and
sometimes blue. It seemed to him, the fishing-boats ran
some risk in a storm : he considered the company at Mat-
gate as too mixed: he only bathed everyother day ; and he I
thought that Bonaparte must have felt dull at St. Helena.
Upon our arrival at Kingsgate, he pointed up to the in-
scription over the archway, " Nunc regis jussu Regis
Porta %Ivor," and said, " That's Latin. When I said
that Lord Holland must have found it a salubrious spot,
he answered with great quickness, " Yes, but not so con-
venient as Kensington for attending the House of Lords."
When Mr. Charles Cookson complained of the dearness of
everything at Ramsgate, I answered " True, but their
season is a short one : they must make bay while the sun
shines." To this he replied, " Certainly.' Notbing im-
portant occurred beyond what I have mentioned. I hope
to inherit my Aunt Edward's Navy Fives, but not her
hostility to every-day people. They arc a race fur whom I
have an esteem. Sterne loved a yackasas, and Talk yrand's
wife took N'olney for Robinson Crusoe. " All nature's
difference makes all Nature's peace ;" and, as I look upon
myself as somethite, out of the common way, 1 hope that I
may stand excused for rather liking every ;lay *plc.
When one is asked to meet piquant company there is
much hope and fear excited with regard to whom one is
placed next to at table. One fidgets, and frisks, and
manoeuvres, after a pleasant partner; and, after all, 'tis ten
to one that one gets planted with one's Aunt an one aide,
and a pale girl just out on the other. No such excited
feelings arose in my bosom in Gower-street. I walked in-
, to the dining-room as philosophically as if t were entering
St. Stephen's, Walbrook, on a wet Sunday afternoon. The
el' r was in admirable keeping with the party. 'fhete'
was gravy soup at the bottom of the table, and at top a in-
senile salmon with his tail in his mouth, like the snake
grataral in the right hand of the grandfather of gods and
men. On the removal of these reloninaries, the salmon
was succeeded by a tongue supported by boiled fowls, and
the soup by an edgebone of beef. Let no man turn up his
nose at an edgebone of beef: it is by no means a had
thing: eertain, however, it is, that when I beheld my plate
laden with two slices of that article, interspersed with
greens and carrots, not to mention a dab of mustard on the
margin, the dell assumed as every-day an aspect as heart
could wish. 1 fancied myself, for the moment, seated in
the cook's shop at the corner of St. Martin's-court, where
a round of beef is carved by a round of woman. On my
left sat the fat middle-aged woman in pick crape, when'