210 THE GENTLEMAN L'SHKit. 



unlike Father Thomas in the fl Dunciad," or one of those plaster 

 figures of mud which rescued the genius of our noblest artist from the 

 plough. " Why you have been in the dirt, sure enough/' was the 

 pleasant remark of this luminary. " Is your master at home ?" I 

 asked without noticing his observation. se Oh yes, he's at home : he's 

 always at home, I warrant. But had'nt I better just give you a bit 

 of a rub down with a clout, before I show you into the dining-room ? 

 for master's wery particular about his furniture." 



I submitted to this proposed operation, notwithstanding the fellow 

 hissed and whistled during his work as though he were really rubbing 

 down his master's horse. John's passion for conversation was not yet 

 satisfied. " You're come I suppose to offer for the place of he that 

 died," he remarked in the most familiar tone imaginable ; " but I 

 don't think you'll do, for master said the next should be a strong un." 

 Out of all patience at this, I demanded to be instantly shewn into the 

 dining-room. With a shrug of the shoulders the man complied, 

 saying as he left me, " You must'nt sit in the great chair, because 

 that's master's." 



Whether he had been aiding and abetting John in his dirty work 

 I know not, but another quarter of an hour had elapsed, before with 

 face newly washed and shining shoes, Mr. B. entered the room. 

 For that quarter of an hour, which seemed an age, I was left to 

 indulge my own thoughts as it is called ; and what an indulgence ! 

 Remorse for the past, despair of the future, all that 1 had done, and 

 all that I had omitted to do, struck a horror on my spirits which I 

 cannot describe, and which none but those who have fooled away 

 their opportunities as I have done would be able to understand. I 

 thought of the high promise with which I had entered on my univer- 

 sity career, of the meagre performance with which it closed, of a 

 father's disappointed hope, of a sister's tears. In short, I indulged in 

 reflecting upon all those little disagreeables which coward con- 

 science flings in a man's teeth when friends and fortune have deserted 

 him. Then the many small, but no less irritating evils of the situa- 

 tion I was seeking, stuck like so many burrs upon my fancy ; to be- 

 come at once an underling tyrant, a Dionysius the little, an auceps 

 syllabarum to waste my whole voice, soul, and energies, on hopeless 

 stupidity, or malicious inattention to be eloquent on the right posi- 

 tion of an accent, indignant at a false quantity, enthusiastic on a 

 particle to such a life was I destined by poverty, at least for the 

 present ; and how could I be certain that the practice of one short 

 year would riot so far pulverize the powers of my mind, so assimilate 

 them to the minutiae of the objects about which they were engaged, 

 that I should never again be capable of any noble or manly exertion ? 

 I may become, I thought, a willing, a contented pedagogue for life. 

 A moment more, and I should have been working my way through 

 snow, sleet, and slime, back to London, and my unpaid for garret. 

 My hand was on the lock, when Mr. G. entered; a rude concus- 

 sion, and a mutual beg pardon, perfected our introduction. Bowing 

 was impossible the slightest inclination on my side would have 

 brought my head in contact with his nose, and the wall was too near 

 him to allow of that back fling of the foot, so necessary to a school- 



