t it could not have been more welcomely received,
had it been as witty as your conversation itself. I heard that you had
accepted the place of secretary to Lord Aspeden, and that you had
passed through London on your way to the Continent, looking (the amiable
Callythorpe, 'who never flatters,' is my authority) more like a ghost
than yourself. So you may be sure, my dear Linden, that I was very
anxious to be convinced under your own hand of your carnal existence.

Take care of yourself, my good fellow, and don't imagine, as I am apt
to do, that youth is like my hunter, Fearnought, and will carry you
over everything. In return for your philosophical maxim, I will give
you another. "In age we should remember that we have been young, and in
youth that we are to be old." Ehem!--am I not profound as a moralist? I
think a few such sentences would become my long face well; and, to say
truth, I am tired of being witty; every one thinks he can be that: so I
will borrow Trollolop's philosophy,--take snuff, wear a wig out of curl,
and grow wise instead of merry.

A propos of Trollolop; let me not forget that you honour him with your
inquiries. I saw him three days since, and he asked me if I had been
impressed lately with the idea vulgarly called Clarence Linden; and he
then proceeded to inform me that he had heard the atoms which composed
your frame were about to be resolved into a new form. While I was
knitting my brows very wisely at this intelligence, he passed on to
apprise me that I had neither length, breadth, nor extension, nor
anything but mind. Flattered by so delicate a compliment to my
understanding, I yielded my assent: and he then shifted his ground,
and told me that there was no such thing as mind; that we were but
modifications of matter; and that, in a word, I was all body. I took
advantage of this doctrine, and forthwith removed my modification of
matter from his.

Findlater has just lost his younger brother in a duel. You have no idea
how shocking it was. Sir Christopher one day heard his brother, who had
just entered the ---- Dragoons, ridiculed for his want of spirit, by
Major Elton, who professed to be the youth's best friend. The honest
heart of our worthy baronet was shocked beyond measure at this perfidy,
and the next time his brother mentioned Elton's name with praise, out
came the story. You may guess the rest: young Findlater called out
Elton, who shot him through the lungs! "I did it for the best," cr