ody: but it is to be
observed, that we have only a small portion of them; that they were
written to a college tutor, a not very exciting species of correspondent
at any time, and who in this instance having nothing to give back, and
plodding his way through the well-meant monotony of college news, allowed
poor Lord Dudley not much more chance of brilliancy, than a smart drummer
might have of producing a reveille on an unbraced drum. We must live in
hope.

Lord Holland, we think, might, as the sailors say, "loom out large." The
life of that ancient Whig having been chiefly employed in telling other
men's stories over his own table--and much better employed, too, than in
talking his original follies in public--a tolerable selection from his
journals might furnish some variety; for when Whigs are cased up no longer
in the stiff braces and battered armour of their clique, they may
occasionally be amusing men. But Walpole still reigns: his whims, his
flirtings, his frivolities will disappear with his old china and trifling
antiquities; but his best letters will always be the best of their kind
among men.

George Selwyn was a man of fashionable life for the greater part of the
last century, or perhaps we may more justly say, he was a man of
fashionable life for the seventy-two years of his existence; for, from his
cradle, he lived among that higher order of mankind who were entitled to
do nothing, to enjoy themselves, and alternately laugh at, and look down
upon the rest of the world. His family were opulent, and naturally
associated with rank; for his father had been aide-de-camp to the Duke of
Marlborough--a great distinction even in that brilliant age; and his
mother was the daughter of a general officer, and woman of the bedchamber
to Queen Caroline. She is recorded as a woman of talents, and peculiarly
of wit; qualities which seem frequently connected with long life, perhaps
as bearing some relation to that good-humour which undoubtedly tends to
lengthen the days of both man and woman. If the theory be true, that the
intellect of the offspring depends upon the mother, the remarkable wit of
George Selwyn may be adduced in evidence of the position.

George, born in 1719, was sent, like the sons of all the court gentlemen
of his age and of our own, to Eton. After having there acquired classics,
aristocracy, and cricket, all consummated at Oxford, he proceeded to go
through the last performance of fashionable education, an