ley and Waller,
than with the 'well of English undefiled.' I cannot help differing.
There are touches of nature about the old bard of Woodstock, that, to
me, are worth all the turns of laborious wit in Cowley, and all
the ornate and artificial simplicity of his courtly competitor. The
description, for instance, of his country coquette--

'Wincing she was, as is a wanton colt,
Sweet as a flower, and upright as a bolt.'

Then, again, for pathos, where will you mend the dying scene of Arcite?

'Alas, my heart's queen! alas, my wife!
Giver at once, and ender of my life.
What is this world?--What axen men to have?
Now with his love--now in his cold grave
Alone, withouten other company.'

But I tire you, sir; and do injustice to the poet, whom I remember but
by halves."

"On the contrary, sir," replied Peveril, "you make him more intelligible
to me in your recitation, than I have found him when I have tried to
peruse him myself."

"You were only frightened by the antiquated spelling, and 'the letters
black,'" said his companion. "It is many a scholar's case, who mistakes
a nut, which he could crack with a little exertion, for a bullet, which
he must needs break his teeth on; but yours are better employed.--Shall
I offer you some of this fish?"

"Not so, sir," replied Julian, willing to show himself a man of reading
in his turn; "I hold with old Caius, and profess to fear judgment, to
fight where I cannot choose, and to eat no fish."

The stranger cast a startled look around him at this observation, which
Julian had thrown out, on purpose to ascertain, if possible, the quality
of his companion, whose present language was so different from the
character he had assumed at Bridlesley's. His countenance, too, although
the features were of an ordinary, not to say mean cast, had that
character of intelligence which education gives to the most homely face;
and his manners were so easy and disembarrassed, as plainly showed a
complete acquaintance with society, as well as the habit of mingling
with it in the higher stages. The alarm which he had evidently shown at
Peveril's answer, was but momentary; for he almost instantly replied,
with a smile, "I promise you, sir, that you are in no dangerous company;
for notwithstanding my fish dinner, I am much disposed to trifle with
some of your savoury mess, if you will indulge me so far."

Peveril accordingly reinforced the stranger's trencher with what
remained of the