ith a sigh.

"I am glad to hear you say so; for you know, my dear Linden," said
Callythorpe, "that I am your true friend, and I must therefore tell you
that you are shamefully ignorant. You are not offended?"

"Not at all!" said Clarence, trying to smile.

"And you, my dear Findlater" (turning to the baronet), "you know that I
wish you well; you know that I never flatter; I'm your real friend, so
you must not be angry; but you really are not considered a Solomon."

"Mr. Callythorpe!" exclaimed the baronet in a rage (the best-hearted
people can't always bear truth), "what do you mean?"

"You must not be angry, my good sir; you must not, really. I can't help
telling you of your faults; for I am a true Briton, sir, a true Briton,
and leave lying to slaves and Frenchmen."

"You are in an error," said Trollolop; "Frenchmen don't lie, at least
not naturally, for in the human mind, as I before said, the Divine
Author has implanted a principle of veracity which--"

"My dear sir," interrupted Callythorpe, very affectionately, "you remind
me of what people say of you."

"Memory may be reduced to sensation, since it is only a weaker
sensation," quoth Trollolop; "but proceed."

"You know, Trollolop," said Callythorpe, in a singularly endearing
intonation of voice, "you know that I never flatter; flattery is
unbecoming a true friend,--nay, more, it is unbecoming a native of our
happy isles, and people do say of you that you know nothing whatsoever,
no, not an iota, of all that nonsensical, worthless philosophy of which
you are always talking. Lord St. George said the other day 'that you
were very conceited.'--'No, not conceited,' replied Dr. ----, 'only
ignorant;' so if I were you, Trollolop, I would cut metaphysics; you're
not offended?"

"By no means," cried Trollolop, foaming at the mouth.

"For my part," said the good-hearted Sir Christopher, whose wrath had
now subsided, rubbing his hands,--"for my part, I see no good in any
of those things: I never read--never--and I don't see how I'm a bit the
worse for it. A good man, Linden, in my opinion, only wants to do his
duty, and that is very easily done."

"A good man; and what is good?" cried the metaphysician, triumphantly.
"Is it implanted within us? Hobbes, according to Reid, who is our last,
and consequently best, philosopher, endeavours to demonstrate that there
is no difference between right and wrong."

"I have no idea of what you mean," cried Sir Christopher.