tastefullest in all Paris,-how poor Savage sold at the stalls the books which Lord Somebody (Grosvenor, was'nt it?) had given him,-how Parr had to part with his Stephens's Greek Thesaurus at Norwich, "from sheer distress."-how Goldy was in for £4000, as the story goes, when he died,-how Byron had an execution in his house eight times during the first year of his marriage, and how his beds were taken, and how he stamped on his grandmother's watch, and ground it to atoms in a fit of despair, -how Swift, or Shenstone, or somebody else, expatiates, with the eloquence of anguish, on the misery of compelling one hundred pounds to do the work of two; how Lord Cutts had to get a writ of protection from king William, (the Dutch partner of the firm of William and Mary) to prevent his being outlawed by his tailor; how Johnson wrote to Richardson from a spunging-house to borrow two guineas; how Fox lost his last farthing at a hell and then lay on his back and read Thucydides; how the nation had to pay the debts of Pilot Pitt and the heir apparent; how Sheridan-" but here my heart begins to bleed." Besides there is a certain dignity in being in debt; of having distresses and cares which every body has not the honour of having; one becomes a subject of friendly concern. May lose one's appetite on sufficient cause, and look absent and frown in the street for a reaThen one feels a personal importance; there is a responsibility resting upon one: you have stakes somewhere; somebody cares for you, thinks of you often; you are not utterly alone and lost in the world. Perhaps if you don't pay your creditor, he may fail; others may "go" in consequence; and thus upon your conduct hangs matter that may make a talk on 'change: All which is extremely pleasant and amusing to a gentleman of leisure and a quiet book-builder like myself. Other conveniences of blest book credit" there are, which nothing could worthily portray save that silver ever-pointed pencil which Lamb carried off with him in his waistcoat pocket. Upon the whole therefore I differ with Shenstone and rather side with the wisdom of that French proverb which assimilates debts to children; if the reader knows what it is, very good; if not, all the better. One of the most son. cheerless sensations I ever remember to have experienced, was that which stole over me when I awoke one morning, "many a year has past and gone" since then, and remembered that I was out of debt. My "occupation" was gone; I had nothing to trouble me, nothing to work for, nothing to swear at. I was condemned to "meditate and gaze," and suffer from "the waste of feelings unemployed;" and I did not recover my usual spirits till I had gone out and ordered a cart of bricks into the cellar; not that I wanted the dusty things, but for the mere pleasure of having a creditor. Since then, I have never suffered the evil to arise again, as my good friends Mr. -, and Mr. and Mr. -, feelingly know. They should thank me, (though I fear they do not, ungrateful dogs!) for I cause them that would never pray, to pray for my life. As they are well aware that when I die, I won't cut up worth a. About three weeks after my arrival in town, as I was strolling through the street, I encountered Seward gazing with ludicrous gravity at a caricature in the window of a print shop. 66 So," said I, "you are studying humorous pictures for the illustration of malicious bon-mot.” 66 Sir," said he, mechanically, without moving his eyes, "the charge is as baseless as a Grecian Doric column:" then recognising me," my dear Stanley! I am most happy in having a St. Thomas proof of your existence, for you vanished so mysteriously from the shore, 'Like snow-falls on the river, A moment white, then gone for ever.' that you had either been alienated or escheated to the Lord." "There were some gentry down there," said I," who I suspect would willingly forward any such scheme, whether of cheating or escheating. I hope you received the note I left for you ?"" "I received no note," replied Seward. "Although I parted with a good many. Do you mean that you left a note for me when you went away from the shore?" "Even so. I happened to overhear a conversation which 66 66 informed me of a plot by some gamblers to relieve you of some of your loose cash. When I was compelled to leave there on business I left a written account of it to be given to you, and I am amazed that you did not receive it, for I put it into the hands of the landlord himself." It is certainly very strange," said Seward, ' and as lamentable; for that person's neglect, or roguery, and I am somewhat inclined to suspect the latter, occasioned rather disastrous consequences to me. To give you the history in brief, you must know that on the same day on which you left us, I went out with Tyler; who by the way is a charming and an honest fellow, though at first I did not like him; and two or three other persons on an excursion of some distance. In the course of it we fell in with two very gentlemanlike persons who were presented to us by Mr. Wilson who was of the party and happened to know them; though as he afterwards told us his acquaintance with them was of no longer standing than since his visit to the shore. In the evening, these persons who had during the day much commended themselves to both of us, were sitting with us in a private room, and one of them proposed cards. Tyler chose me for his partner and we sat down. Tyler played extremely well, and I am something of an adept myself; but we rose in a few hours with the loss of a very large sum of money. I as you may imagine was half ruined, and the loss to Tyler, though he bore it like a philosopher, was I suspect extremely inconvenient. We were both convinced upon talking the matter over, that the cards had been marked." Remembering Tyler's proud boasts of the superiority of cool-headed men, which he professed to be, I mentioned his remarks to Seward with a smile at his being outwitted. "Poor fellow!" said Seward," he seemed, in truth, to be more vexed at his defeat than his loss. He has a splendid intellect, and is a monarch in theory, but has not enough alloy in his nature to circulate to advantage among men. Though deeply read in books, he is green in the world's ways. He behaved so well, however, under his misfortune, though ill with a cold, that I quite love him. He told me he knew you, and that you were a person of fine understanding." "That observation certainly shows judgment." We talked a good while about the mysteries of these gaming plots, putting together the different facts which each was acquainted with: but the more we pondered the matter, the more mysterious it became, and we finally parted after attaining what my lord Coke would call "the exclusion of a conclusion." CHAPTER X. For gentle girls the country's fit, HERRICK. Feasting hereon, we will philosophise. SHELLEY. THE summer was over and the town was again full. I went constantly into society, and no man can do that long without having the form, if not the character of his feelings changed. The maxim which tells us that man can never alter his character, is practically rather a quibble than a truth; for though, perhaps, and I speak doubtfully even of this, every one of strongly defined qualities in youth, may be seen to exhibit on striking occasions in life, these peculiarities, and may be found at the close of his career to possess inherently the same dispositions which marked his boyhood; yet the influence of these inclinations may be so long suspended by the power of circumstances, or so often interrupted by the power of passion, that in view of the brevity of man's existence, the notion may probably be deemed false in theory, and in 'view of the results in action, may certainly be pronounced useless in practice. My sentiments and my estimation of things became greatly modified. I lost the morbid and self-centered view which I had formerly taken of the world. My passions became healthy, and cleared of the blind and dazzling fervour that once made every hope a certainty and every doubt despair. I learned to know that there were thousands of men in the world of like passions with myself, and that I was not alone among my fellows in the nature of my endowments and my feelings, a simple truth, but one which solitude can never teach us; for, whatever may be the wisdom of the cloister, the truths which concern man as he is, are not among its learning; for the relations of man to himself and the |