ches, youth, nor beauty ever gave me the silent
and deep happiness I experience when I think of you. This is a worship
that might, I repeat, well make even you vain. Think of these words, I
implore you. Be worthy, not of my thoughts, but of the shape in which
they represent you: and every ray of glory that surrounds you
will brighten my own way, and inspire me with a kindred emulation.
Farewell.--I may write to you again, but you will never discover me; and
in life I pray that we may never meet!"

CHAPTER V.

"Our list of nobles next let Amri grace."
_Absalom and Achitophel_.

"Sine me vacivum tempus ne quod dem mihi Laboris."*--TER.

* Suffer me to employ my spare time in some kind of labour.

"I CAN'T think," said one of a group of young men, loitering by the
steps of a clubhouse in St. James's Street--"I can't think what has
chanced to Maltravers. Do you observe (as he walks--there--the other
side of the way) how much he is altered? He stoops like an old man, and
hardly ever lifts his eyes from the ground. He certainly seems sick and
sad."

"Writing books, I suppose."

"Or privately married."

"Or growing too rich--rich men are always unhappy beings."

"Ha, Ferrers, how are you?"

"So-so. What's the news?" replied Lumley.

"Rattler pays forfeit."

"O! but in politics?"

"Hang politics--are you turned politician?"

"At my age, what else is there left to do?"

"I thought so, by your hat; all politicians sport odd-looking hats: it
is very remarkable, but that is the great symptom of the disease."

"My hat!--_is_ it odd?" said Ferrers, taking off the commodity in
question, and seriously regarding it.

"Why, who ever saw such a brim?"

"Glad you think so."

"Why, Ferrers?"

"Because it is a prudent policy in this country to surrender something
trifling up to ridicule. If people can abuse your hat or your carriage,
or the shape of your nose, or a wart on your chin, they let slip a
thousand more important matters. 'Tis the wisdom of the camel-driver,
who gives up his gown for the camel to trample on, that he may escape
himself."

"How droll you are, Ferrers! Well, I shall turn in, and read the papers;
and you--"

"Shall pay my visits and rejoice in my hat."

"Good day to you; by the by, your friend, Maltravers, has just passed,
looking thoughtful, and talking to himself. What's the matter with him?"

"Lamenting, perhaps, that he, too, does not wear an odd hat for
gentlemen lik