hted with yourself. The latter is obvious enough; who the
deuce should be pleased with you, if you yourself are not?

"Before I left college I fell in love. Other fellows, at my age, in such
a predicament, would have whined--shaved only twice a week, and written
verses. I did none of the three--the last indeed I tried, but, to my
infinite surprise, I found my genius was not universal. I began with

"'Sweet nymph, for whom I wake my muse.'

"For this, after considerable hammering, I could only think of the rhyme
'shoes'--so I began again,--

"'Thy praise demands much softer lutes.'

"And the fellow of this verse terminated like myself in 'boots.'--Other
efforts were equally successful--'bloom' suggested to my imagination
no rhyme but 'perfume!'--'despair' only reminded me of my 'hair,'--and
'hope' was met at the end of the second verse, by the inharmonious
antithesis of 'soap.' Finding, therefore, that my forte was not in
the Pierian line, I redoubled my attention to my dress; I coated, and
cravated, and essenced, and oiled, with all the attention the very
inspiration of my rhymes seemed to advise;--in short, I thought the best
pledge I could give my Dulcinea of my passion for her person, would be
to show her what affectionate veneration I could pay to my own.

"My mistress could not withhold from me her admiration, but she denied
me her love. She confessed Mr. Russelton was the best dressed man at the
University, and had the whitest hands; and two days after this avowal,
she ran away with a great rosy-cheeked extract from Leicestershire.

"I did not blame her: I pitied her too much--but I made a vow never to
be in love again. In spite of all advantages I kept my oath, and avenged
myself on the species for the insult of the individual.

"Before I commenced a part which was to continue through life, I
considered deeply on the humours of the spectators. I saw that
the character of the English was servile to rank, and yielding to
pretension--they admire you for your acquaintance, and cringe to you for
your conceit. The first thing, therefore, was to know great people--the
second to controul them. I dressed well, and had good horses--that
was sufficient to make me sought by the young of my own sex. I talked
scandal, and was never abashed--that was more than enough to make me
recherche among the matrons of the other. It is single men, and married
women, to whom are given the St. Peter's keys of Society. I was soon
adm