England, though you don't seem to know anything about it. Did you ever hear of ennui, or, as perhaps it is best to call it, the spleen?"

"Ah! yes, Sir. I believe I have heard talk of it. Isn't it a distemper that attacks gentlemen and ladies, and lets poor people alone?”

"You have hit it exactly," said Willoughby. "But, then, what is it?" continued Tom. "The having more money than we know what to do with," answered Willoughby.

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"I should be a long while before I got the distemper," rejoined Tankard. "The very pigeons on the house-tops, and the sparrows in the hedges, might give one a lesson. I'll warrant they never have the spleen."

"Nor you either, Tom," said Willoughby, familiarly.

Tom bowed, then added, "But what would your Honour advise for this poor gentleman?" "Flog him at the cart's tail," said Willoughby "Lord! Sir, you can't be in earnest; but you are always making your games on us. Yet that is better than many of the stiff Bath folks and their yellow faces, who have not a word to throw at a dog. Shall I order your Honour's night-cap and Molly? It's almost time."

So saying, he rattled out of the room without waiting for an answer.

"Excellent, ágain," I said; " this fellow will never die of the spleen; his description of which deserves to be recorded in the next Encyclopedia, to say nothing of your cure for it."

THE next morning brought me a letter from Etheredge, in answer to mine from Easington. It contained an important communication respecting no less a person than our friend Gorewell, who, more than ever angry at the political and moral offences of his countrymen, had resolved to expatriate himself, and renounce the very name of Englishman. He therefore sought happiness abroad; and it was in vain that Etheredge endeavoured to turn him from this experiment, by softening, as well as he could, the

crimes and follies of the land, and setting before him the great chance of his finding himself worse off in his voluntary exile. It was in vain even that Lady Isabel joined her husband in endeavouring to deter him from his project. He was gallant enough, however, to say, "Madam, if there was another Lady Isabel in England I would stay at home."

Etheredge said he was puzzled how to reply; for he really thought there was no such other to be found; and his wife was so amazed at the compliment of the Cynic, that she was equally embarrassed. Gorewell therefore had it all his own way. He breakfasted with them the morning of his departure, and their last conversation was as characteristic as ever of this strong-minded, though perhaps mistaken man.

"Ubi bene, ibi patria," said Gorewell, as he prepared to get into his chaise, and kissed his hand with a determined air, denoting that he had fully made up his mind as to his own country, whatever might be his expectations from any other.

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That is but a selfish maxim, after all," observed Etheredge.

"It was Bolingbroke's," replied he, "and what served him will surely serve me."

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I should be sorry if it did," said Etheredge,,

VOL. II.

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for, if so, we may expect you to bear arms and fight, or take office and plot, against Old England, and all in it you hold dear."

"I have lost all in it that I held dear, except yourselves," replied Gorewell; " and as for the remainder, what have I ever met with from them, that I should prize them more even than the enemies you suppose me ready to join? Then, if you come to the public character of England, its high-minded nobles, its wise rulers, its firm defenders, its virtuous patriots! why speak of them? Sir Archy M Sarcasm was right in saying they were all rum-puncheons and sugar-hogsheads. In a word, I have watched the State, and the State has shown itself not worth watching."

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Quite a Coriolanus!" said Etheredge, endeavouring to rally him.

"Not so, I assure you," returned he; “for had I been that gallant person, not even the tears of a mother or a wife should have prevented me from what never comes too late' 6 -a great revenge! Mind, however, I am too little adventurous to be a Coriolanus, though disgusted enough to be Scipio, and will leave to be engraven on my tomb, Dishonoured country! my bones shall not rest among you.'

6

"And whom do you blame for all this?" inquired Etheredge.