picture," said Talbot (when, the evening before
Clarence's departure, the latter was renewing the subject), "I shall
myself become the purchaser, and at a price which will enable our friend
to afford leisure and study for the completion of his next attempt; but
even at the risk of offending your friendship, and disappointing your
expectations, I will frankly tell you that I think Warner overrates,
perhaps not his talents, but his powers; not his ability for doing
something great hereafter, but his capacity of doing it at present. In
the pride of his heart, he has shown me many of his designs, and I am
somewhat of a judge: they want experience, cultivation, taste, and,
above all, a deeper study of the Italian masters. They all have the
defects of a feverish colouring, an ambitious desire of effect, a
wavering and imperfect outline, an ostentatious and unnatural strength
of light and shadow; they show, it is true, a genius of no ordinary
stamp, but one ill regulated, inexperienced, and utterly left to its own
suggestions for a model. However, I am glad he wishes for the opinion
of one necessarily the best judge: let him bring the picture here by
Thursday; on that day my friend has promised to visit me; and now let us
talk of you and your departure."

The intercourse of men of different ages is essentially unequal: it must
always partake more or less of advice on one side and deference on
the other; and although the easy and unpedantic turn of Talbot's
conversation made his remarks rather entertaining than obviously
admonitory, yet they were necessarily tinged by his experience, and
regulated by his interest in the fortunes of his young friend.

"My dearest Clarence," said he, affectionately, "we are about to bid
each other a long farewell. I will not damp your hopes and anticipations
by insisting on the little chance there is that you should ever see me
again. You are about to enter upon the great world, and have within
you the desire and power of success; let me flatter myself that you can
profit by my experience. Among the 'Colloquia' of Erasmus, there is a
very entertaining dialogue between Apicius and a man who, desirous of
giving a feast to a very large and miscellaneous party, comes to consult
the epicure what will be the best means to give satisfaction to all.
Now you shall be this Spudaeus (so I think he is called), and I will be
Apicius; for the world, after all, is nothing more than a great feast of
different s