pressions of kindness, agreed to all that her friend had requested. Lady Elizabeth bit her lips with vexation, and I am almost ashamed to say, the laugh of the two ladies at her folly was heard from the drawing-room before this halfbred woman of fashion could get into her chair in the lobby below."

"This is very fair poetical justice," observed De Vere; "but I am yet to learn how this could affect you in the least, much less be a struggle."

"I am ashamed to confess," returned Flowerdale, "how angry it made me at the time; and that, though I despised my lady cousin from the bottom of my heart, I felt a sort of triumph in beholding the admiration which my blooming and beautiful wife excited, under the auspicious introduction of the Marchioness, in circles which Lady Elizabeth herself was forced to approach with reverence. But this was all false, and unworthy true pride," continued he, "and I soon got the better when I arrived at this retirement, both of my contemptible resentment, and my perhaps stili more contemptible revenge."

"I honour you for your self-accusations,"

said De Vere; "you certainly had no room for them here."

"No, indeed," answered Flowerdale; "for after being settled here a few weeks, with the life we pursued, the contemplation of Nature, and the primitive manners that surrounded us; above all, with the approximation to Him who is the Author of all, which arises out of a study of his works, and which towns and the ambition of towns cannot teach; you cannot conceive into what an immeasurable distance from us Lady Elizabeth and all such gentry were finally

thrown."

"You speak volumes," said De Vere," and the rather, because though you lived out of the world, you say you did not abandon it."

"By no means; for though I retired, it was only on account of this beautiful succession left me by my uncle. I had not lost my interest about my fellow-men. I read of the struggle for superiority among my old acquaintances, even with eagerness, and not the less from feeling myself safe from their dangerous excitements. I was always fond of that engaging sentiment, which, did more men feel, there would be fewer dependant people in the world— 'Quis hoc non dederit nobis, ut cum opera nos

tra patria, sive non possit uti, sive nolit, ad eam vitam revertamur, quam multi docti homines (fortasse non recte, sed tamen multi,) republicæ præponendam putaverunt.'

"This is, as you have called it,” said De Vere," an engaging sentiment, and I can perfectly well understand your feeling. But still my wonder is, that you could so school yourself, as to feel any interest at all about the world, if you felt no more."

"Your wonder is only natural, and your eagerness as it should be," replied Flowerdale, "for if all were like me, the world would not go on. But you will recollect, I was a man, if I may not say of learning, at least of letters; and the witchery of letters, as every one knows, depends upon leisure and happy quiet. There are those indeed, even among men of letters, who may not understand this, for there is a party spirit there too, more bitter and less generous, even than in politics: for which let Pope and Warburton answer, not I. For myself, I am con

* What is to prevent us, if our country either cannot or will not make use of our services, from returning to that (private) life, which many well-instructed men, (perhaps not rightly, but still many) are of opinion ought to be preferred to the service of the state?

vinced that some of the sweetest moments of my life, have been when, after an hour or two spent in reading, or serious thought, I have sallied from my study to breathe in some wild walk, and meditate (assisted by the exercise) on what had so employed and so improved me. At whatever time of my life, or wherever my tent, whether at school or at college; in the beautiful vallies of France, or in a mere cottage garden in England, the effect of this upon the heart has always been the same; the same happy calm has soothed, the same gratified feeling blessed me."

Mr. Flowerdale here finished; and the sentiments and the words with which he concluded, were so congenial to all De Vere's favourite notions, (revived lately in augmented strength,) that he continued some time in an attitude of deep attention, as if he thought his companion was still conversing; reminding himself in this, of that other discourse, (also after a friendly repast,) of which one of our greatest poets has made so beautiful a picture,

66

The angel ended, and in Adam's car

So charming left his voice, that he awhile
Thought him still speaking.”

There was a pause on both sides; when De Vere, finding his host had finally ceased, thanked him in the warmest terms for the satis

faction he had given him. "There is not a word you have uttered," said he, "but I shall remember, together with your hospitality, and the almost romantic manner of our meeting."

The great clock in the court yard, here struck one, and both gentlemen were astonished at the quick lapse of the hours.

"The clock strikes," said Mr. Flowerdale, "but I will not here add

'We take no count of time But by its loss.'

You have, however, made me unmercifully egotistical; and though the egotism has been, if I may so say, forced from me by yourself, I must have pity upon the exertions you have made, and let you retire."

At these words, lighting a taper, he conducted De Vere up an ancient staircase, so carved, embossed, and inlaid, that he could willingly have devoted another half hour to its examination, but that is host absolutely commanded a postponement of it till the morning. The two gentlemen then separated for the