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confident he will make a noise in the world, perhaps in more senses than one.

Most fully am I convinced of his frankness and sincerity he would suffer no one whom he disliked, to remain long in intercourse with him, without an intimation of the feeling on his part; and he would be the last man whom I should suspect of either actively or passively injuring an absent friend, by slandering him himself, or by suffering him to be slandered by others. Indeed, with regard to the expression of his feelings as they actually exist, I am not sure whether he has learned the rule which ought here to be constantly and carefully observed: the rule never to deny, or utter what may be reasonably supposed to imply denial, but at the same time to reserve to one's self the privilege of choosing the period, the circumstances, and the method in which it may be right to put forth the plain and unadulterated dictates of the heart.

But when I have allowed that he seems to perceive no difference between concealing and suppressing, I must add, that few indeed are those who have in this been able to perceive and adhere to the just medium; and that if there must be an error, Bartholomew Bouverie will not seek for his admirers among that class of men who would not prefer this sincerity of disposition, even when carried so far as to overstep the bounds of propriety, to a mind, especially to a youthful mind, corrupted by the wiles of deceit, and seeking shelter amidst the resources of equivocation.

My coadjutor is moreover a steady friend and constant encourager of all those sports for which Eton has at all

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times been so deservedly celebrated; but remembering— many, I fear, do not remember-how well and how wisely it was said of old,

"Nec tua laudabis studia, aut aliena reprêndes,"

he does not join in the vulgar and inconsiderate clamour raised against the less popular pursuits of those whom taste, or associations, or peculiar circumstances, may have induced to adopt a different, though, I would fain hope, not necessarily an opposing line of conduct. And it may safely be affirmed that his merits in this particular have met with their reward; that he has been one of the few, who, in our little community, have been so happy as to attach to themselves the good-will of all classes alike of the higher powers, in the first instance, and of the various descriptions of his fellow-citizens, in the second.

Having now arrived at the conclusion of a long, but, I fear, imperfect account of the individual to whom I already owe so much, and to whom I hope to owe a great deal more, I beg to introduce him to the public by a nom de guerre which he has chosen himself, that of, Mr. Antony Heaviside.

The next person whom I shall venture to present to the public, is Mr. David ap Rice, a gentleman with an antediluvian pedigree, and a profound veneration for toasted cheese. He is a great stickler for the honour of his country, and the honour of his ancestors, and would offer to fight any one who should venture to speak against the sublimity of Snowdon, or the merits of Cadwallader.

With regard to his temper, we may describe him in the words of Horace,

“Irasci celerem, tamen ut placabilis esset ;"

indeed, while we were settling the preliminaries of our partnership, he fell out with me three times, and as often offered me his hand with the greatest cordiality. The chief fault that I find in him is, that he will on no account give up his own opinion; he is more stiff-necked than the mountains of his country, for "huge Plinlimmon bowed his cloud-topt head" to the magic song of Modred; but all my arguments have not been able to procure me the same favour from Mr. David ap Rice. His forte is poetry, in which his style is decidedly national, seldom adhering to the vulgar restrictions of rhyme, and occasionally o'erstepping the modesty of reason. It will no more bear comparison with the standard of legitimate poetry, than the Song of the Goat with the purer age of the Grecian Tragedy; but still it has a native wildness, an artless irregularity, which cannot fail to please; it has none of that elaborate diction, or studied harmony, which delights some classes of our readers, yet it bears strong traces of genius, and of genius unassisted by art. Its greatest fault is its inequality, for it runs, as it were, the course of the comet, at one time illuminated by the full effulgence of the sun, at another lost in impenetrable obscurity.

Such is the coadjutor whom I have taken, but there are a few other traits in his character which I may hereafter mention; at present I offer him to the public, such as I found him, a wild, inflexible, poetical CambroBriton.

ON ENNUI.

With your permission, friend Bouverie, it is my intention to offer a few remarks concerning that most unwelcome of all visitors, that enemy to conviviality, that bane of all rational amusements and recreations, commonly designated by the name of ennui; not for the purpose of inspiring you with those unenviable sensations attending it, or of throwing a melancholy dejection on that brow of yours, which beams with perpetual serenity and good-humour, and which never cast a repulsive or interdicting look on the most humble of your more submissive fellow-creatures. Far otherwise is my intention; I wish only to give an insight into those many miseries, those restless and uneasy moments, those frequent yawns and eye-rubbings, those instinctive ejaculations of "Oh, dear! what a heavy day it is!" and many others of a similar nature, all of which the generality of mankind entail upon themselves, by neglecting that proper regimen, calculated to resist its encroachments and to repel its attacks.

Now, the common query attending all professed loungers, and especially those whose superior rank in life gives them a title to a certain leisure and independence, denied to their more active brethren, is, "How is, Time to be killed?" You must be well acquainted with the vulgar opinion, that cats have nine lives: now, how many lives should think Time had? For my part, I should give him a triple proportion of both vitality and muscular strength, if we may reason from analogy; for

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no one has effectually been able to beguile many an interminable quarter of an hour, although armed with the anodyne whiffs of an Havannah cigar, or the more sociable, and certainly less odoriferous, contents of a snuff-box, when held in thraldom by the shackles of ennui; and many a young Miss has repeatedly turned over the leaves of a deserted album, or fumbled in the unfathomable abysses of a reticule, without experiencing the least respite or alleviation from her sufferings.

For the purpose of illustration, I shall make no scruple of quoting the expressions, verbatim, of two votaries of the shrine of Indolence and Inactivity, to which I was an ear-witness not long since: "I say, Dick, I be very unk-ed."" So be I, Tom," is the emphatic reply. Now, I think it unnecessary to explain the meaning of this word "unkid," or unked (you may question the orthography of the word, if you please), to you, friend Bouverie, since I am aware that you are equally conversant with cottage eloquence, and with the more refined and more sophisticated departments of literary jargon. This elegant dissyllable is as descriptive of the internal feelings of my two heroes, as any other I could possibly have brought forward; and by its sulky, ominous, and sepulchral pronunciation, is a sure proof that ennui, by some means or other, has insinuated itself into some unguarded chinks and creeks, and taken possession of their animal faculties, having fortified itself against every attempt to dislodge it. As to the authority of the word, I do not vouch for its appearance in the columns of Dr. Johnson's dictionary, but I imagine that the privilege of ivoμarootia, or fabrication of words, will be granted to

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