breach, nor be the person to begin the estrangement, without palpable cause. If Hastings is the Alcibiade of which he gives so many tokens, it will not be long before he will afford you ample opportunity to enforce your resolution. But even Alcibiades had some redeeming qualities; therefore, give even the devil fair play: wait on your oars, and see what will come of it."

I own this discomposed, as well as surprised me ; for I not only expected the highest eulogies on my stoicism, but having braced myself up to the measure, as necessary to my peace for the long term to which I looked forward at Oxford, I was almost sorry to have my firmness shaken, as it was, by this want of unction, as I thought, in commending it. The mere wavering which it caused brought me back to Sedbergh and Foljambe Park, and both had such habitual possession of me, nay, had been so entirely the only interest that absorbed me, that the effort to dislodge it seemed unnatural, and I returned to it with the renovated and increased animation which generally attends a reconciliation after a lover's quarrel.

All this while, Foljambe knew nothing of his influence over my projected conduct. He knew not, perhaps cared not, for the tumult he had caused, for the wound he had given, or the salve I had endeavoured to apply to it, by resolving to throw him off. How often does this attend us in life, and could we see into one another's minds, how many burning struggles, mistakes, imaginary affronts, or unwarrantable expectations, might be avoided, how many friendships remain unbroken!

It was too true, as the sage Fothergill told me, I was born with too sensitive a nature. "You are proud,” said he, "which I do not altogether object to. Let your pride alone, and it may do you no harm, nay,

it may keep you right under temptations and trials, of which you will have enough here; but once give it the reins-let it lead you wrong, or plunge you into false ambition-that is, make you seek a place that does not belong to you, and which this very pride, well regulated, would make you avoid—you immediately become the sport of those whom you condescend to court. 'Optat ephippia bos' contains a useful lesson, and the anguish of Wolsey is unpitied, when he exclaims,

Whe

'My high-blown pride at length broke under me.'" Such were the lessons of this excellent man. ther I profited by them or not, remains to be seen; but the pride he had noticed, and even recommended, made me assure him, with perhaps too much quickness, that he was mistaken if he thought I could court any body, and that if I seemed so eager in watching Hastings's conduct, it was only because of old affection, and quite as the equal he had taught me to consider myself. "His friend," said I, "I may still be; his hanger-on I never will be. Once convinced that he thinks I am so, in that instant I am restored."

"I desire nothing better," said Fothergill.

CHAPTER X.

I DISCOVER MORE OF THE REAL CHARACTER OF FOLJAMBE HASTINGS.-CROSS-EXAMINED BY MY TUTOR AS TO MY LOVE FOR BERTHA.

'Tis a fault I would not change for all your virtue.
ID.-As You Like It.

FOR One or two days after this conversation I kept close to my college, though my mind often wandered after the person who so much interested me, as in truth he did many others, though in a manner far different. For by this time I had learned, in regard to him, what astonished, as much as it distressed me. I thought I had a right to know him well, and though of an eager character, running often to extremes, a strong feeling of friendship and a taste for letters had, at Sedbergh, seemed the order of the day. But from what I now learned, I found it must have been owing to the want of opportunity and competitors, in more stirring scenes, that he thus settled down into the sentimental and philosophic youth he seemed to be. He disdained most of his school-mates, and loved to associate with no one but me, who, though sufficiently commoto dentro," was generally "cheto fuor." With

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me, there could be no rivalry in anything but the acquisition of learning; and though the competition of schoolboys in every thing else is fierce enough (witness his battle with Ramshorn), that which is confined to their books is seldom of a loud character.

Judge then my surprise, to be told by many that, though but six months in the University, Hastings had already attained to almost the summit of notoriety. I mean not as to learning; though in this also he was so little deficient, that in his themes, but particularly his verses--thanks to Eton-he had won the praise of his tutors. With this, however, he was little content; for, strange to say of the quiet person he had been at Sedbergh,—to be, par excellence, the renowner of Oxford, seemed to be his great ambition.

Hence he was always the first of his clique, whatever their object. At the tennis-court he could play the marker without odds; in the field he led the hunt; and on the water was perfect at the oars. At Bullington, in summer, he presided over cricket; and at Port Meadow, in winter, was inimitable in skaiting. He gave suppers to the young nobility in his rooms, and pic-nics to the ladies in Bagley Wood. The old English game of single-stick was not then quite worn out, and he actually had won a hat upon a public stage at Abingdon, in a perilous contest, not without blood, of twelve on a side, between the two counties of Oxford and Berks. The hat he brought that very evening in triumph, and laid it at the feet of one of three mistresses who had been given him by the public voice.

In fencing and boxing with Mr. Douce, nobody went beyond him, and nobody, except Lord Albany, could come near his excellence in pistol firing at a mark.

These two were rival "renowners" in every thing, but especially in this,-in which they practised every day, with such equal success, that the numerous spectators, who assembled to witness their skill, hoped they would never quarrel, as, if they did, it would be impossible for either of them to escape.

Then again he played nobly at billiards; and he would sit up half the night at whist, or the bottle. But the acme of his fame was acquired at Ascot, where he actually won a plate run for by gentlemen who rode their own horses; and that the renown of it might not be lost, he returned in the jockey dress and cap in which he had run, from the heath to the very gate of Christ Church, to the astonishment and dismay of all the officials.

This, however, had like to have cost him dear, for there was an intention to expel him for riding a race; but he pleaded so stoutly, though so respectfully, that he had had leave to attend the course, and was not therefore within the jurisdiction of the college, that the plea was allowed; and having declared that the degradation of riding through the streets in jockey costume was mere absence of mind, without intention to break rules, moreover expressing sorrow, and being withal a sort of favourite, from his high station, figure, and talents, he was let off for a very heavy imposition, and confined to college till it was accomplished!

Even here renown did not abandon him; for he gave the task to two servitors to perform for him, and paid them with such a number of guineas, that his love of fame was gratified to the last.

These things.came out by degrees, and had been the talk of the different colleges before I came, and this disposition and conduct were what caused Mr. Fothergill to liken him to Alcibiades. My astonishment at