Victima nil miserantis Orci.
* * * * *
Omnes eodem cogimur.'

"Is there any thing beyond?--_who_ knows? _He_ that can't tell. Who
tells that there _is_? He who don't know. And when shall he know?
perhaps, when he don't expect, and generally when he don't wish it. In
this last respect, however, all are not alike: it depends a good deal
upon education,--something upon nerves and habits--but most upon
digestion.


"Saturday, Feb. 19.

"Just returned from seeing Kean in Richard. By Jove, he is a soul!
Life--nature--truth without exaggeration or diminution. Kemble's Hamlet
is perfect;--but Hamlet is not Nature. Richard is a man; and Kean is
Richard. Now to my own concerns.

"Went to Waite's. Teeth all right and white; but he says that I grind
them in my sleep and chip the edges. That same sleep is no friend of
mine, though I court him sometimes for half the twenty-four.


"February 20.

"Got up and tore out two leaves of this Journal--I don't know why.
Hodgson just called and gone. He has much _bonhommie_ with his other
good qualities, and more talent than he has yet had credit for beyond
his circle.