influence of mellow wine, imitated the others, and tried to look and feel at home. Within a month of Bruce's manipulation, this excellent and gited young man, this truly gracious light in the youthful band of confessors, was seated, talking to a fascinating young danseuse who wore a gossamer dress, behind the scenes of a petty London theatre. Bruce looked on with a smile, and hummed to himself

Jene Tänzerinn

Fliegt, mit leichtem Sinn
Und noch leichtern Kleide
Durch den Saal der Freude
Wie ein Zephyr bin, etc.

The head of Jedediah Hazlet was somewhat confused, when, after the play and a supper, it sank deep into the reposeful down of a spare chamber in the gay Sir Rollo Bruce's London House.

The next morning was Sunday. They none of them got up till twelve to a languid breakfast, and then read novels. Hazlet, who was rather shocked at this, did indeed faintly suggest going to church. "Oh yes," said Bruce, looking up with a smile from his Balzac,

we'll do that, or some other equally harmless amusement." The dinner hour, however, coincided with the time of evening service, so that it was impossible to go then, and finally they spent the evening in what they all agreed to call "a perfectly quiet game at cards."

CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FIRST.

ONE OF THE SIMPLE ONES.

Οὗτος κἂν εἰς μαχαίρας κυβιστήσεις κἂν εἰς πῦρ ἄλλοιτο.

"I tempted his blood and his flesh,

Hid in roses my mesh,

XEN. Mem. I. 3.

Choicest cates, and the flagon's best spilth."

ROBERT BROWNING.

"FAUGH," said Bruce, on his return to Camford, "that fellow Hazlet isn't worth making an experiment upon

-in corpore vili truly; but the creature is so wicked at heart, that even his cherished traditions crumble at a touch. He's no game; he doesn't even run cunning." "Then I hope you'll p-p-pay me my p-p-p-ponies," said Fitzurse.

"By no means; only I shall cut things short; he isn't worth playing; I shall hawl him in at once."

Accordingly, Hazlet was invited once more to one of Bruce's parties-this time to a supper. It was one of the regular, reckless, uproarious affairs-D'Acres, Boodle Tulk, Brogten, Fitzurse, were all there, and

the élite of the fast fellow-commoners, and sporting men besides. Bruce had privately entreated them all not to snub Hazlet, as he wanted to have some fun. The supper was soon despatched, and the wine circled plentifully. It was followed by a game of cards, during which the punch-bowl stood in the centre of the table, rich, smoking, and crowned with a concoction of unprecedented strength. Hazlet was quite in his glory. When they had plied him sufficiently-which Bruce took care to do by repeatedly replenishing his cup on the sly, so that he might fancy himself to have taken much less than was really the case-they all drank his health with the usual honours :

"For he's a jolly good fe-el-low,
For he's a jolly good fe-el-low,
For he's a jolly good fe-el-lo-ow-
Which nobody can deny,

Which nobody can deny;

For he's a jolly good fe-el-low," etc.

And so on, ad infinitum, followed by "Hip! hip! hip! hurrah! hurrah!! hurrah!!!" and then the general rattling of plates on the table, and breaking of wineglass stems with knives of "boys who crashed the glass and beat the floor."

Hazlet was quite in the seventh heaven of exaltation, and made a feeble attempt at replying to the honour in a speech; but he was in so very oblivious and generally foolish a condition, that, being chiefly accustomed to Philadelphus oratory, he began to address them as "My Christian Friends;" and this produced

such shouts of boisterous laughter, that he sat down with his purpose unaccomplished.

Before the evening was over, Bruce, in the opinion of all present, including Fitzurse himself, had fairly won his bet.

"I shan't mind p-p-paying a bit," said the excellent young nobleman; "it's been such r-r-rare f-f-fun.”

Rare fun indeed! The miserable Hazlet, swilled with unwonted draughts, lay brutally comatose in a chair. His head rolled from side to side, his body and arms hung helpless and disjointed, his eyelids drooped he was completely unconscious, and more than fulfilled the conditions of being "roaring drunk!"

Now for some jolly amusement-the opportunity's too good to be lost! What exhilaration there is on seeing a human soul imbruted and grovelling hopelessly in the dirt! or rather to have a body before you, without a soul for the time being-a coarse animal mass, swinish as those whom the wand of Circe smote, but with the human intelligence quenched besides, and the character of reason wiped away. Here, some ochre and lampblack, quick! There-plaster it well about the whiskers and eyelids, and put a few patches on the hair! Magnificent!-he looks like a Choctaw in his war-paint, after drinking fire-water.

Screams of irrepressible laughter-almost as ghastly (if the cause of them be considered) as those that might have sounded round a witch's cauldron over diabolical orgies-accompanied the whole proceeding. So loud were they that all the men on the staircase heard them,

and fully expected the immediate apparition of some bulldog, dean, or proctor. It was nobody's affair, however, but Bruce's, and he must do as he liked. Suton, who "kept" near Bruce, was one of those whom the uproar puzzled and disturbed, as he sat down with sober pleasure to his evening's work. His window was opposite Bruce's, and across the narrow road he heard distinctly most of what was said. The perpetual and noisy repetition of Hazlet's name perplexed him extremely, and at last he could have no doubt that they were making Hazlet drunk, and then painting him; nor was it less clear that many of them were themselves half intoxicated.

It had of course been impossible for Suton and others of similar character to avoid noticing the eccentricities of dress and manner which had been the outward indications of Hazlet's recent course. When a man who has been accustomed to dress in black, and wear tail coats in the morning, suddenly comes out in gorgeous apparel, and begins to talk about cards, betting and theatres, his associates must be very blind, if they do not observe that his theories are undergoing a tolerably complete revolution. Suton saw with regret mingled with pity, Hazlet's contemptible weakness, and he had once or twice endeavoured to give him a hint of the ridicule which his metamorphosis occasioned; but Hazlet had met his remarks with such silly arrogance, nay with such a patronizing assumption of superiority, that he determined to leave him to his own experiences. This did not prevent Suton from