faction of the palate, can only arise from having been himself the author of the feast. Among other characteristics derived from his nature, man has been even called (and not unjustly) a cooking animal. Hence also, perhaps, the pleasure given by voyages and travels into unexplored countries. What interest is kindled by the discovery of new regions, or the first meeting with new people and manners! But if in our wanderings we are overtaken by a shipwreck, or left on a desert island, all our natural energies, pursuits, tastes,-call them what you will, -seem born again. We are forced to act for ourselves, for our very existence and safety; we are obliged to seek and prepare food, shelter, and raiment, and provide for defence; which causes an intenseness of interest unknown to cities, or those who live" where bell doth knoll to church."

All this brings us acquainted with what Nature demands of us, as most conducive, not merely to our well-being, but to our existence; and the nearer we approach to it in civilized life, the greater our independence: and independencé is always the cause of pleasure. If any one doubt this, let him read the most delightful voyage that ever was written; that by Anson; and pon-. der the lessons on human energies given so at

tractively by him and his stout companions, at Juan Fernandez and Finian. How often has this turned the high-beating heart of youth from the court, the city, the cloister, and Westminster Hall, to more seducing, because more exciting and natural habits. Hence the excitements of military warfare. I mean not the battle, but the encampment, the bivouac, the foraging, and even the cooking. Hence, too, what was said of George II., who, though a king, and tolerably sensible of his rights, having been an old soldier, was plagued by his dependence upon others, and often lighted his own fire. These are not mean or unfounded speculations.

If the "proper study of mankind is man," whatever develops his nature must be looked for in the history of his energies, as brought into action by remarkable situation; and that situation seldom occurs in what I have called his artificial life.

With these reflections as a preliminary, I set out upon my interesting inquiry. Those who knew not my design were astonished at my abandoning London at the end of May; and still more when I told them what was true, that I knew not where I was going. Moreover, the sight of saddle-horses instead of my comfortable barouche, the morning I started, gave still greater food for

curiosity. "But what could you expect," said they, " from a man always in extremes, and who was too old when he came into the world to know anything about it afterwards."

Nothing disheartened, I mounted grey Diomed, who seemed by his prancing to be as much tired of London as his master.

SECTION II.

HENRY FIELDING-TREATY HOUSE-BULSTRODE

WALLER-BURKE-HAMPTON-MILTON.

"I have no spur to prick the sides of my intent, but only vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself."

MACBETH.

I WILL not say that, on quitting Mayfair, I laid the reins of my horse, like Don Quixote, on his neck, leaving him to choose his road; but it was only the evening before that I finally determined my first visit should be to Oxford. Accordingly I took the Tyburn-gate, and in half an hour found myself near Acton, opposite a house which was always interesting to me. It was here that were written those pages SO loved and devoured in childhood, studied in youth, and ruminated over in maturer age, and always welcomed for the amusement they supply, or the knowledge of mankind they display. It was here that the inimitable Parson Adams, Western, and Partridge, to say nothing of Mrs. Western, (who is still

alive, though her brother be dead;) it was here that the pure, unsophiscated, and lovely Sophia and filled the canvas of my grew under the pen, eccentric, benevolent, but unfortunate ancestor. Manners may change, and some of the dramatis persone may be blotted out of English society; but as long as the heart and the English language remain the same, so long will those works be read with equal interest, pleasure, and advantage.

But, alas! this my first stop was not to illuminate the favourable side of my inquiry. The genius, and with it the lot of Henry Fielding, was ever clouded by miserable penury,―sad to say, made worse by imprudences of his own-anything but virtuous ones. There was but one epoch of his life that was irradiated with a real sunbeam; for I call the corruscations of his wit and spirits, though they enabled him to defy want and reflection, nothing. This was during the rapture of his first marriage with that engaging being from whom it was said he drew Sophia. But, alas, it was a meteor, brilliant, but short lived. For soon he lost her, only to find himself more miserable in his solitude, from being plunged into the gloom of debt, and deriving relief chiefly from coarse and sensual pleasures. But peace to his manes!