The man who
suffers his heart to be fluttered, or his passions to be roused, by any
just action he is called upon to do, is not a philosopher. Understand
me, however; I do not at all pretend to be quite perfect in my
philosophy; but, at all events, I trust I schooled myself well enough
not to suffer a wrestling match with a contemptible animal like that, to
make my pulse beat a stroke quicker after the momentary effort is over."

Sir Philip Hastings was charmed with the reply; for though it was a view
of philosophy which he could not and did not follow, however much he
might agree to it, yet the course of reasoning and the sources of
argument were so much akin to those he usually sought, that he fancied
he had at length found a man quite after his own heart. He chose to
express no farther opinion upon the subject, however, till he had seen
more of his young companion; but that more he determined to see. In the
mean time he easily changed the conversation, saying, "You seemed to be
a very skilful and practised wrestler, sir."

"I was brought up in Cornwall," replied the other, "though not a Cornish
man, and having no affinity even with the Terse and the Tees--an Anglo
Saxon, I am proud to believe, for I look upon that race as the greatest
which the world has yet produced."

"What, superior to the Roman?" asked Sir Philip.

"Ay, even so," answered the stranger, "with as much energy, as much
resolution, less mobility, more perseverance, with many a quality which
the Roman did not possess. The Romans have left us many a fine lesson
which we are capable of practising as well as they, while we can add
much of which they had no notion."

"I should like much to discuss the subject with you more at large," said
Sir Philip Hastings, in reply; "but I know not whether we have time
sufficient to render it worth while to begin."

"I really hardly know, either," answered the young stranger; "for, in
the first place, I am unacquainted with the country, and in the next
place, I know not how far you are going. My course tends towards a small
town called Hartwell--or, as I suspect it ought to be, Hartswell,
probably from some fountain at which hart and hind used to come and
drink."

"I am going a little beyond it," replied Sir Philip Hastings, "so that
our journey will be for the next ten miles together;" and with this good
space of time before him, the baronet endeavored to bring his young
companion back to the subject which had