Because I have long felt a strong desire to know by personal experiment what London is like at this season of the year.

Because the house requires some repairs, and I am anxious to be on the spot to look after the workpeople.

Because the progress of my book on Universal Eccentricity renders it necessary that I should pay frequent visits to the library of the British Museum.

Because I have been everywhere, and know every place.

Because the sanitary condition of the only place I at all care to go to is not altogether satisfactory.

Because my Uncle Anthony is expected home every day from Australia, and I am unwilling to be absent from town when he arrives.

Because my cousin Selina is going to be married from her stepfather's at Upper Clapton, and insists on my giving her away to the gentleman with whom she is about to penetrate into the interior of Africa.

Because I am desirous to avail myself of this opportunity of completing some statistical tables I am compiling, showing the comparative numbers of horses, carriages, and pedestrians passing my dining-room windows on the last Saturday in May and the last Saturday in August respectively.

Because my eldest son is reading with a private tutor for his army examination, and I feel I am of some use to him in his studies.

Because my Aunt Philippa is detained in town by an attack of gout, and expects me to call and sit with her three times a day.

Because I am determined to put into execution my long-cherished design of thoroughly exploring the British Museum, the National Gallery, the South Kensington Museum, St. Paul's, Westminster Abbey, the public monuments, and the City churches.

Because it is pecuniarily inconvenient to me to be anywhere else.

Notice.

The gentleman who, the other day, ran away from home, without stopping to take his breath, is requested to fetch it as quickly as possible.