own person. But though in so judging I am bound to allow I found a few amiable and accomplished females, the die seemed cast against my feeling it. I found many agrémens in their society, but nothing of that touching magic which a finger held up by Mr. Hastings' daughter always created. I studied their characters, and of some of them acknowledged the beauty, but it was only when they were actually present; for I parted with them without regret, and saw them again without interest.

I succeeded better with the men. With them, there was no contrast to their disadvantage; no tender recollections, no prejudices, and of course none of the absorbing interests derived from sex. Accordingly, my mind had free scope for all its operations, whenever characters or objects worth notice presented themselves, and under Fothergill's guidance of my own natural disposition in this respect, I became, for my age, an intense observer of my fellow-men.

It must be owned, Oxford afforded much food for this sort of curiosity, and as my tutor's forte was knowledge of men, which he inculcated fully as much as knowledge of books, the interest he took in my progress made me prosper.

It was as curious as pleasant to observe Fothergill, when he, as his phrase was, got hold of a character, and set it up as a beacon to warn his pupils (if, as he used to say, they were worth warning), against the various vices and weaknesses of young men,-in detecting and ridiculing which no one went beyond him.

The traits of a few of their characters it might be amusing to mention, as well as of my own, of which, he used to tell me, the vice was pride, and the weakness jealousy, to say nothing of visionary romance.

One character was rather a favourite speculation of his, from being, as he said, so perfect of its kind, though that kind was not very perfect in itself. The name of the gentleman who owned this character was Mr. Courtenay Waldegrave Shanks, the foolish son of a foolish father, who thought the two first names, which were baptismal, and for which there was no earthly pretence, might make up for the vulgarity of the last.

Mr. Jeremiah Shanks, the father, had, from small beginnings, raised himself to the rank of a millionaire in the good town of Manchester, which he had for some time left, for one of the best houses in Portman Square, London. On the strength of this, an unlimited allowance, and these great names, he intended to push his son into the very highest society, first of Oxford, and afterwards in the great world,-in which it was the acme of his ambition, if it cost him half his fortune, that his son should marry into a nobleman's family, not under the degree of an earl. For though the name of Shanks was not very euphonical, with a Lady Louisa, or Lady Olivia, prefixed to it, it would pass very well.

The young man's own ambition seconded that of his father; but unfortunately, not having a single acquaintance in the university, and there being no

gentleman commoner at Queen's but himself, there was a dead stop put at first to his progress.

In this dilemma, his good or bad fortune threw him in the way of an Honourable Mr. Merriton, a man of original and reckless humour, notorious for what was called practically quizzing all the fools he could find in Oxford-which were not a few. Our hero's foible was the very thing for him. It was not easily concealed; but if it had been, Mr. Merriton's penetration would have discovered it directly, if only from the two christian names which he bore, without any connection with the noble families to which they belonged.

This was exactly the game Mr. Merriton was so fond of pursuing; and for this purpose he did not scruple to make advances to Mr. Courtenay Waldegrave Shanks, which were eagerly met by that gentleman. In truth, the Honourable Mr. Merriton found him as docile, and disposed to all the follies by which he designed to expose him, as his heart could wish.

"You desire to make a name," said Mr. Merriton on the fourth day of his acquaintance with Mr. Shanks. “ This is as it should be a fair and honest ambition. Your object is fashion and good company-also a most laudable desire. But you are not known, have never been at a public school, and have no high connections. Unfortunate ! But, then, you have what is better, a great deal of money; nay, you say without limit. With such advantages over us fine gentlemen, as we call ourselves, I should be

glad to see what you may not do, whether as to conduct or company-that is to say, provided you do not mind the expence."

Mr. Shanks assured his noble preceptor that expence was the last thing he should mind, and gave him carteblanches as to directions how to conduct himself, which he promised implicitly to follow. This was pre

cisely what the Honourable Mr. Merriton wished, and prepared himself accordingly.

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"You see," said he, to his unsuspecting pupil, acquaintances, especially of a certain sort, are not like me—they are not to be got for asking.”

"I would do any thing," said Shanks.

"Would you give a cool hundred for a hunter that is well worth it?"

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Yes, and a great deal more, if well worth it, and it led, as I suppose you mean, to a becoming acquaint

ance."

"And you would pay down the money on the

nail ?"

"Yes! A draft on my father.”

"Good!" said Merriton. "Then I will introduce you to a friend of mine, the Honourable Mr. Corbyn, son of Lord Corbyn. He is tired of the chase, and means to part with his hunter."

"How very obliging you are," cried Mr. Courtenay Waldegrave," to condescend to all this; and for a person you scarcely know."

Pray don't mention it; but come with me to Mr. Corbyn's rooms, and the bargain shall be struck, and you shall see the horse out directly."

generous,

"I don't want to see the horse," said the confiding Shanks; "I am quite satisfied with your recommendation."

"You really ought to be noble yourself," observed Mr. Merriton, though with his tongue in his cheek, "for your conduct is noble ;" and they adjourned to the Honourable Mr. Corbyn's rooms.

That gentleman was not a little surprised, perhaps disconcerted, at Merriton's forcing an acquaintance upon him from Queen's, though a gentleman commoner, and began to look blue at both his visitors; but when he learned their errand, he changed to something like civility; allowed that it was most handsome conduct, most gentlemanly, certainly, to take the horse upon trust, even without seeing him; but he assured Mr. Shanks he would not repent it; pocketed the draft, and bowed him out of the room.

Mr. Courtenay Waldegrave, in ecstasy, informed his father of what he had done, observing that if the horse was not worth his keep, still it was a cheap purchase, considering that the friendship of one honourable was cemented, and of another acquired by it.

The blockhead, his father, approved highly of this conduct; and half the purchase went to pay a debt from the Honourable Mr. Corbyn to the Honourable Mr. Merriton; with only a little drawback to the former, when he debated how he was to receive the greeting of this most gentlemanly purchaser of horses, should he meet him in the streets.

This was so good a beginning by Mr. Merriton with his pupil, that he did not like to have done with