feel their dislike to bullets considerably sharpened, {6} and their
efforts at perfect equanimity and self-possession proportionably
difficult. So true it is, in the language of a wise man whose own
experience had made him acquainted with both fortunes, that riches are
better fitted

To slacken virtue, and abate her edge,
Than tempt her to do ought may merit praise.

_Paradise Regained_.

I dally with my subject because, to myself, the remembrance of these
times is profoundly interesting. But my reader shall not have any
further cause to complain, for I now hasten to its close. In the road
between Slough and Eton I fell asleep, and just as the morning began to
dawn I was awakened by the voice of a man standing over me and surveying
me. I know not what he was: he was an ill-looking fellow, but not
therefore of necessity an ill-meaning fellow; or, if he were, I suppose
he thought that no person sleeping out-of-doors in winter could be worth
robbing. In which conclusion, however, as it regarded myself, I beg to
assure him, if he should be among my readers, that he was mistaken. After
a slight remark he passed on; and I was not sorry at his disturbance, as
it enabled me to pass through Eton before people were generally up. The
night had been heavy and lowering, but towards the morning it had changed
to a slight frost, and the ground and the trees were now covered with
rime. I slipped through Eton unobserved; washed myself, and as far as
possible adjusted my dress, at a little public-house in Windsor; and
about eight o'clock went down towards Pote's. On my road I met some
junior boys, of whom I made inquiries. An Etonian is always a gentleman;
and, in spite of my shabby habiliments, they answered me civilly. My