bogs, where they are sure to leave us in the mire. No! Amuse the great by your writings, and they will thank you by their civilities; serve them, and they will, perhaps, repay your service; but show your parts in correcting them in Homer, and you will infallibly be thrown overboard." "An encouraging picture!" observed Lackland, rather moodily. "Yet all I mean," replied Gorewell," is to cure you, if I can, of the 'flattering unction' you seem to have laid to your soul,' that in this commercial, political, money-making and moneyspending kingdom, with an aristocracy pushed into exclusiveness by the success of Parvenues, and the inferior ranks corrupted to the core by vanity and ambition, any literary merit, not political, can lead to great preferment; or, that even the voice of a man of letters can be heard amid the storm." Lackland would have still remonstrated, but Gorewell, whose own views of life had been disappointed, and had made him impatient, told him abruptly to con over Johnson's Vanity of Human Wishes,' particularly the lines "Yet hope not life from grief or danger free, There mark what ills the scholar's life assail, Toil, envy, want, the patron, and the jail." Such was the lecture of a man of the world to a man of letters. The man of the world I shall have occasion to mention again: the author, after lingering some time longer in London, and giving proofs of consummate learning in another publication, found his golden dream of ambition at an end. The learning of his work did not suit the public taste; his great friends were neglected by him from pride, and in return he was forgotten by them; and he returned to Alma Mater, worse off than when he left her. It may be supposed that, from what this history discloses, I had not a more favourable opinion of Lord W, who, it will be recollected, had asked me to dinner. I was punctual to my engagement, and found my Lord was but right in saying he did not affect wits, but was satisfied with plainness; for a set of plainer people my conversation never coped withal. What plain meant, in his Lordship's apprehension, I could not, indeed, very well make out; but certainly, OBVIOUS (one of its meanings) could not have been intended. Except in one quarter, and that was my Lord's own, there was little discourse, and therefore little opportunity of judging. The poet seemed afraid of the historian, the historian of the mathematician, and all of them of my Lord; so, except to eat a very good dinner, and to agree in everything uttered by the noble host, scarce a man opened his mouth. All seemed to have partaken of the lesson which Etheredge had given me, of not attempting to shine; or if they made the attempt they did not succeed. What puzzled me was to observe that my noble relation, who was not without a certain degree of talent himself, seemed to enjoy his company. But I soon discovered the secret. All were good listeners and good laughers, and all agreed that my Lord was a good talker. It reminded me of what Walpole said of Richelieu's admirers at Paris, who began to laugh before he had spoken ;—very luckily, as he says-for if they had waited they would not have laughed at all. In fact, they seemed inspired with the true spirit of honest Canton, in that finest of all fine pictures of parasite and patron, which still so charms us, and ever will, though manners are changed. "So clever what you say, My Lor." The gentleman, in particular, whom Lord W had so eulogized for critical judgment, and from whom I expected great things, had but one phrase, which, however, he uttered with much VOL. II. D frequency and emphasis, particularly when my Lord spoke, which was almost the whole time:"O! that's neat! Is not that neat?" Then the poet, having told my Lord that he had answered his dinner invitation in verse, was called upon to repeat or read it. He said, "he could not repeat, and as to reading it, with such a monotonous voice as his, when my Lord was there, so remarkable for his intonations in the House of Peers, he begged to be excused. But if my Lord would have the goodness 66 Aye, there you are right," cried several; "Lord W- will do you more justice than you can yourself." I was particularly amused, and wondered how my noble kinsman would get out of so awkward a position. But he made no difficulty, bowed complacently, and, saying they did him a great deal of honour, went through the composition most sonorously, to the great admiration of the poet, who declared he did not know his own verses again, they were so well delivered. All the company joined in this sentiment, fresh Burgundy was called for, and I never saw my noble relation so pleased. He wound up, however, by telling me he was disappointed that an engagement had prevented a very agreeable man, a Mr. Bland, from making one of the party; for he had always something new to tell, or some joke to relate. To this all the visiters bowed assent: so that I began to question whether my kinsman and tutor, Etheredge, had been quite correct in what he said about shining. I had however an opportunity of settling this matter the next day, when I saw Etheredge again. "Here is a new illustration of our question," said I to him. "I now see what Lord W. ' meant by not admitting wits to his banquets, but contenting himself with sense and judgment. You were quite right in your maxim, not to attempt shining before great men.” : "It is not mine," replied he, "but Lord Halifax's not Mountague but Saville, though worthy of both; for both knew the world in their own persons. My Lord Marquis, who you know was called the Trimmer, and, one would think, had studied the art of pleasing as much as Chesterfield, says that 'Outdoing is so near reprouching, that it will generally be thought very ill company. Anything that shineth, says Lord H doth in some measure tarnish everything that standeth next to it.' After all, I know not that Lord W- is so much to blame. Not half so much as those, (I must not call them sycophants,) who, for the sake of the honour of being his |