al philosopher of Prussia, in conjugating the verb,
Je m'ennuie.

CHAPTER LXVII.

In solo vivendi causa palato est.--Juvenal.

They would talk of nothing but high life, and high-lived company; with
other fashionable topics, such as pictures, taste, Shakspeare, and the
musical glasses.--Vicar of Wakefield.

The reflections which closed the last CHAPTER, will serve to show that
I was in no very amiable or convivial temper, when I drove to Lord
Guloseton's dinner. However, in the world, it matters little what may be
our real mood, the mask hides the bent brow and the writhing lip.

Guloseton was stretched on his sofa, gazing with upward eye at the
beautiful Venus which hung above his hearth. "You are welcome, Pelham; I
am worshipping my household divinity!"

I prostrated myself on the opposite sofa, and made some answer to the
classical epicure, which made us both laugh heartily. We then talked of
pictures, painters, poets, the ancients, and Dr. Henderson on Wines; we
gave ourselves up, without restraint, to the enchanting fascination
of the last-named subject, and our mutual enthusiasm confirming our
cordiality, we went down stairs to our dinner, as charmed with each
other as boon companions always should be.

"This is comme il faut," said I, looking round at the well filled table,
and the sparkling spirits immersed in the ice-pails, "a genuine friendly
dinner. It is very rarely that I dare entrust myself to such extempore
hospitality--miserum est aliena vivere quadra;--a friendly dinner, a
family meal, are things from which I fly with undisguised aversion. It
is very hard, that in England, one cannot have a friend on pain of being
shot or poisoned; if you refuse his familiar invitations, he thinks you
mean to affront him, and says something rude, for which you are forced
to challenge him; if you accept them, you perish beneath the weight of
boiled mutton and turnips, or--"

"My dear friend," interrupted Guloseton, with his mouth full, "it is
very true; but this is no time for talking, let us eat."

I acknowledged the justice of the rebuke, and we did not interchange
another word beyond the exclamations of surprise, pleasure, admiration,
or dissatisfaction, called up by the objects which engrossed our
attention, till we found ourselves alone with our dessert.

When I thought my host had imbibed a sufficient quantity of wine, I once
more renewed my attack. I had tried him before upon that point of vanity