iciently matured for high enjoyment; the most exquisite of our
pleasures, are intellectual, and cannot be relished until the mental
faculties have been cultivated and expanded.--_Clayton's Sketches
in Biography_.

[5] He was sent at the age of ten years to a school at Wexin,
the master of which was so severe as entirely to destroy his
spirits, and repress the early indications of his extraordinary
talents.

* * * * *

SPIRIT OF THE
Public Journals

* * * * *

AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A LANDAULET!

I dined one day at a bachelor's dinner in Lincoln's Inn-fields, and my
wife having no engagement that evening, I gave my coachman a half
holiday, and when he had set me down, desired him to put up his horses,
as I should return home in a jarvey. At eleven, my conveyance arrived;
the steps were let down, and, when down, they slanted under the body of
the carriage; my foot slipped from the lowest step, and I grazed my shin
against the second; but at last I surmounted the difficulty, and seating
myself, sank back upon the musty, fusty, ill-savoured squabs of the
jarvey.

I was about to undertake a very formidable journey; I lived in the
Regent's Park; and as the horses that now drew me had been worked hard
during the day, it seemed probable that some hours would elapse before I
could reach my own door. Off they went, however; the coachman urged them
on with whip and tongue: the body of the jarvey swung to and fro; the
glasses shook and clattered; the straw on the floor felt damp, and rain
water oozed through the roof, (for it was a landaulet). I felt chilled,
and drew up the front window, at least I drew up the frame; but as it
contained no glass, I was not the warmer for my pains; so I wrapped my
cloak around me, and rather sulkily sank into a reverie. The vehicle
still continued to rumble, and rattle, and shake, and squeak; I fell
into a doze, caused by some fatigue and much claret, and gradually these
sounds seemed to soften into a voice! I distinguished intelligible
accents! I listened attentively to the low murmurs, and distinctly I
heard, and treasured in my memory, what appeared to me to be the "Lament
of the Landaulet!"

The poor _body_ seemed to sigh, and the wheels became _spokesmen_!

"I am about fifteen years of age," (thus squeaked my equipage); "I was
born in Long Acre, the birthplace of the aristocracy of my race