National Democrat

Marquis Lousanda, the British Consul

at Boston.

is.

This dignitary is very accurately set off by

the Boston Correspondent of the Plymouth

(Mass.) Sentinel, as follows:

I said something in a former letter of the

uselessness of blood, unaccompanied by qualities

that support it. We have splendid specimen

of this sort of thing here in the person of the

English Consul, who is a marquis by rank, and

a noodle in every other respect. It is true that

he is a man of large wealth, but he spends it in

such a way as to fail of procuring real enjoy-

ment, while he makes himself ludicrous in the

eyes of all sensible persons.

His position is

one which entitles him to enter our best circles

of society, if he has the tact or ability to sus-

tain himself therein but he is never seen in the

drawing rooms of those whom it is pleas-

ure to our citizens such driver or English

dragon, with yellow body and red heels,

drawn by four or two horses, as the humour

suits him, and is always accompanied by two

John Bull footmen in livery.

If he stops his vehicle

it is most likely to be in front of the residence

of some actress, or still more noted member of

the softer sex, where it may wait for hours. He

is a portly personage, dresses rather conspicuously,

and seems to court caustic comment, de-

fying public opinion utterly in everything that

he does.

What there is in America, her life,

institutions or people, to charm this secluded,

haughty, unhappy looking man no one yet

has been able to tell.

His blood and his rank seem

to be a curse to him, raising a barrier insur-

mountable between him and the many who

might entertain him.

He thinks no one good

enough to speak to, and no one has the least

desire to speak to him.

He is an object of pity

as well as a laughing stock.