since my majority."

Vincent took up the newspaper with evident chagrin; however, he was
too theoretically the man of the world, long to shew his displeasure.
"Parr--Parr--again," said he; "how they stuff the journals with that
name. God knows, I venerate learning as much as any man; but I respect
it for its uses, and not for itself. However, I will not quarrel with
his reputation--it is but for a day. Literary men, who leave nothing but
their name to posterity, have but a short twilight of posthumous renown.
Apropos, do you know my pun upon Parr and the Major?"

"Not I," said I, "Majora canamus!"

"Why, Parr and I, and two or three more were dining once at poor
T. M--'s, the author of 'The Indian Antiquities.'Major--, a great
traveller, entered into a dispute with Parr about Babylon; the Doctor
got into a violent passion, and poured out such a heap of quotations on
his unfortunate antagonist, that the latter, stunned by the clamour, and
terrified by the Greek, was obliged to succumb. Parr turned triumphantly
to me: 'What is your opinion, my lord,' said he; 'who is in the right?'

"Adversis major--par secundis," answered I.

"Vincent," I said, after I had expressed sufficient admiration at his
pun--"Vincent, I begin to be weary of this life; I shall accordingly
pack up my books and myself, and go to Malvern Wells, to live quietly
till I think it time for London. After to-day, you will, therefore, see
me no more."

"I cannot," answered Vincent, "contravene so laudable a purpose, however
I may be the loser." And after a short and desultory conversation, I
left him once more to the tranquil enjoyment of his Plato. That evening
I went to Malvern, and there I remained in a monotonous state of
existence, dividing my time equally between my mind and my body, and
forming myself into that state of contemplative reflection, which was
the object of Vincent's admiration in the writings of the ancients.

Just when I was on the point of leaving my retreat, I received an
intelligence which most materially affected my future prospects. My
uncle, who had arrived to the sober age of fifty, without any apparent
designs of matrimony, fell suddenly in love with a lady in his immediate
neighbourhood, and married her, after a courtship of three weeks.

"I should not," said my poor mother, very generously, in a subsequent
letter, "so much have minded his marriage, if the lady had not thought
proper to become in the family way; a thing