him, that had it not been for his timely intervention we should certainly have died of silence. "Died of silence!" reiterated our friend, "God forbid ! when Corinna is in the room!" And so saying, he half-led half-dragged us to the other end of the room, and compelled us to make our bow to a girl of lively manners, whom he described to us in a whisper as "a perfect antidote for the sullens." Our first impression was, "she is a fool ;"-our second," she is a wit;"-our third, "she is something between both!"-Oh! that it were possible for us to commit to paper one half of what was uttered by Corinna! Our recollection of our tête-a-tête is like the recollection of a dream. In dreams we remember that we were at one moment in a mud-built cottage, and were the next transported to a gothic chapel, but by what means the transmutation of place was effected, our waking thoughts are unable to conceive. Thus it was when we listened to Corinna. We were hurried from one topic to another with an unaccountable velocity, but by what chain one idea was connected with its predecessor we cannot imagine. The conversation (if conversation it may be called, where the duty of talking devolves upon one person) set out with some mention of fresco; from hence it turned off to Herculaneum, and then passed with inconceivable rapidity through the following stages:-Rome-the Parthenon-National Monument at Edinburgh-Edinburgh Review-Blackwood-Ebony bracelets-Fashion of short sleevesFashion in general dress in Queen Elizabeth's time-" The Abbot"-Walter Scott-Highland scenery. In the Highlands we lost our route for some minutes, and soon afterwards found ourselves (we know not how) at Joannina, in company with Ali Pacha. By this time we were thoroughly wearied, and were unable to keep up regularly with our unfeeling conductress, so that we have but a very faint idea of the places we visited._We remember being dragged to the Giant at the Windsor Fair; from whence we paid a flying visit to the Colossus of Rhodes; -we attended Cato, the Lady's favourite pug, during a severe illness, and were shortly after present at the Cato-street conspiracy. We have some idea that after making the tour of the Lakes, we set out to discover the source of the Nile. In our way thither we took a brief survey of the Lake of Como, and were finally for some time immersed in the Red Sea. This put the finishing stroke to our already fatigued senses. We resigned ourselves, without another struggle, to the will and disposal of our sovereign mistress, and for the next half hour knew not to what quarter of the globe we were conveyed. At the close of that period we awoke from our trance, and found that Corinna had brought us into the Club-room, and was discussing the characters of the Members with a most unwarrantable freedom of

speech. Before we had time to remonstrate against this manifest breach of privilege, we found ourselves in the gallery of the House of Lords, and began to think we never should make our escape from this amusing torture. Fortunately at this moment a freeholder of entered the room. One of the candidates was a friend of Corinna's, and she hurried from us, after a thousand apologies, to learn the state of the poll.

"Sic nos servavit Apollo." *

Our next companion was Sappho the Blue-stocking. We enjoyed a literary confabulation for some time, for which we beg our readers to understand we are every way qualified. The deep stores of our reading, enlivened by the pungent readiness of our wit, are bona fide the admiration of London as well as of Windsor belles; we beg our friends to have this in mind whenever they sit down to peruse us. But to proceed-we very shortly perceived that Sappho was enchanted with our erudition, and the manner in which we displayed it. She was particularly pleased with our critiques on "Zimmerman upon Solitude," and was delighted by the praise we bestowed (for the first time in our life) on Southey's "Thalaba." We had evidently made considerable progress in her affections, when we ruined ourselves by a piece of imprudence which we have since deeply regretted. We were satirical, this satire is the Devil!-we were satirical upon German literature. The lady turned up her nose, turned down her eyes, bit her lip, and looked-we cannot explain how she looked, but it was very terrific. We have since heard she is engaged in translating Klopstock's "Messiah" into the Sanscrit.

We were next introduced to one of those ladies who are celebrated for the extraordinary tact which they display in the discovery of the faults of their sex, Catherine is indeed one of the leaders of the tribe. She has the extraordinary talent which conveys the most sarcastic remarks in a tone of the greatest kindness. In her the language of hatred assumes the garb of affection, and the observation which is prompted by envy appears to be dictated by compassion. If in her presence you bestow commendation upon a rival, she assents most warmly to your opinion, and imme diately destroys its effect by a seemingly extorted "but." but.” We were admiring Sophia's beautiful hair." Very beautiful!” said Catherine, but she dresses it so ill!" We made some allusion to Georgiana's charming spirits. She has everlasting vivacity," said Catherine, "but it's a pity she is so indiscreet." Then followed something in a whisper which we do not feel ourselves at

66

* Sir Francis Wentworth points our quotation thus,→

"Sic nos servavit A-Poll-O !”—Hor.

liberty to repeat. We next were unguarded enough to find something very fascinating in Amelia's eyes. "Yes," replied Catherine, "but then she has such an unfortunate nose between them." Finally, in a moment of imprudent enthusiasm, we declared that we thought Maria the most interesting girl in the room. We shall never, (although we live, like our predecessors, Griffin and Grildrig, to the good old age of forty Numbers,) we shall never, we repeat, forget the "Some people think so!" with which our amiable auditress replied to our exclamation. We saw we were disgraced, and, to say the truth, were not a little pleased that we were no longer of Catherine's Privy Council.

Now all these Ladies are foolish in their way. Theodosia is a silent fool, Emily is a timid fool, Corinna is a talkative fool, Sappho is a learned fool, and Catherine is a malicious fool. With their comparative degrees of moral merit we have nothing to do; but in point of the agreeable, we hesitate not to affirm that the silent fool is to us the more insupportable creature of the five.

We lately were present at a large party, where an Etonian, for whom we have a great esteem, was terribly abused by a witty Marchioness for his inflexible taciturnity. Without entering upon the merits of this particular case, let us be allowed to plead in behalf of our sex, that a Gentleman may be silent when a Lady is silly; and that it is needless for a Beau to be entertaining, where a Belle is decidedly impracticable.

F. G.

SIR THOMAS NESBIT'S DEFINITION OF A GOOD FELLOW.

"Vir bonus est quis!"-HOR.

66

BEING desired by his Majesty to draw up, for the instruction of all whom it may concern, a Definition of a Good Fellow," I thought it proper to apply to the Members of the Club individually, for such hints as they could furnish me with, for the prosecution of the design. I received the following:

MR. GOLIGHTLY.

A Good Fellow is one who rides blood horses, drives four-in-hand, speaks when he's spoken to, sings when he's asked, always turns his back on a dun→ and never on a friend.

MR. LE BLANC.

A Good Fellow is one who studies deep, reads Trigonometry, and burns Lovesongs, has a most cordial aversion for Dancing and D'Egville, and would rather encounter a Cannon than a Fancy Ball.

HON. G. MONTGOMERY.

A Good Fellow is one who abhors Moralists and Mathematics, and adores the Classics and Caroline Mowbray.

SIR F. WENTWORTH.

A Good Fellow is one who attends the Fox Dinner, and drinks the Queen's health, who would go the Indies to purchase Independence, and would rather encounter a Buffalo than a Boroughmonger.

MR. M. STERLING.

A Good Fellow is a good neighbour, a good citizen, a good relation,-in short, a Good Man.

MR. M'FARLANE.

A Good Fellow is "a bonnie, braw John Hielandman.”

MR. O'CONNOR.

A Good Fellow is one who talks loud and swears louder, cares little about learning and less about his neckcloth,-loves whisky, patronises bargemen, and wears nails in his shoes.

MR. MUSGRAVE.

A Good Fellow is-prime-flash-and bang-up.

MR. BURTON.

A Good Fellow is one who knows "what's what," keeps accounts, and studies Cocker.

MR. ROWLEY.

A Good Fellow likes Turtle and cold Punch, drinks Port when he can't get Champagne, and dines on Mutton with Sir Robert, when he can't get Venison at My Lord's.

MR. LOZELL.

A Good Fellow is something compounded of the preceding.

MR. OAKLEY.

A Good Fellow is something perfectly different from the preceding,—and Mr. Lozell is an Ass.

And now, after so many and so excellent descriptions, what can Sir Thomas add?

Why to be sure I am placed in rather a difficult situation; however, with due deference to the opinions of the above highlyrespected Gentlemen, I must conjure up the beau ideal of "a Good Fellow."-First of all, as a foundation for a multitude of virtues, he must be abundantly good-natured. Now, by goodnature I do not understand that easy, timid, unmeaning sort of complaisance which says "Yes" to every body, merely from the fear of saying "No;" nor that soft simplicity, which, without any will or control of its own, suffers itself to be turned about like the weathercock on the steeple, hardly inquiring whether it moves to right or wrong purposes; and which, by taking every thing in

*

* No reflection on our worthy friend Mr. Lozell, on the word of a true Nesbit.

good part, however ill-meant, acquires the enviable distinction of standing as a public butt, at which any fool thinks himself entitled to take a random shot, and invariably confers upon its possessor the honourable appellation of Cawker. My hero should have just enough of this temper to enable him to give a joke and take one with equal pleasure. He must be seldom passionate, and never sulky; not inclined to quarrels, but still less to stand calmly by, if his schoolfellows or himself were unprovokedly attacked. He would never give up his accomplices, although threatened with tenfold punishment, and would run the risk of a flogging himself to save another from the certainty of one. I would have him with just sufficient reading to have something to say for himself, and just sufficient wit to make what he says agreeable. I will admit, however, that there is not much objection to his being a pretty good scholar, provided he is ready to communicate his knowledge when there is occasion,-to construe the lesson for the general good, and to do a few verses now and then, upon a push, for some unfortunate blockhead on a regular week,-provided, too, that he is never caught out in a quotation. He ought to like all sorts of games, though it is not at all necessary that he should excel in any one, provided that he enters into the spirit of them, and takes particular care not to give his adversary a wilful kick at football, and not to direct his cricket-ball against the legs instead of the wicket of the player. With all these perfections, it is his absolute duty to hate pride as he does lying, to hate lying as he does hypocrisy, and hypocrisy as he does the Devil. Thus you see he will be kind, generous, pleasant, and useful—and what further can any one desire? Perhaps you may be inclined to think I have exacted rather too much.

I have, indeed, some reason to suppose that very few of the above-mentioned qualities are requisite to form what an Etonian would call a Good Fellow; and that term seems so often applied to undeserving and opposite characters, that I am inclined to think that the judgment of the School in this respect is neither very severe nor very consistent. Once I was extremely surprised at hearing a boy mentioned as a Good Fellow whom I had always held in the light of a reputed bully, whose tyranny, in common with others, I had frequently felt, and abused. This change was accounted for by his having assisted a party in a contest with some blackguards, either out of wantonness, the mere love of fighting, or perhaps, after all, because he could not help it. I have often been present when the epithets of Beast and Good Fellow have been given to the same person in less than a minute, the latter of which was apparently used as a conciliatory, upon his consenting to lend a book which he had before refused. What way of entreating can be so effective, so moving, as the usual form?" Pray