no inferior society, is reported to have said, when the rope was about
his neck, and the good Ordinary was exhorting him to repent of his ill-
spent life, "Ill-spent, you dog! 'Gad!" (smacking his lips) "it was
delicious!"

"Fie! fie! Mr. -------, raise your thoughts to Heaven!"

"But a canter across the common--oh!" muttered the criminal; and his soul
cantered off to eternity.

So briskly leaped the heart of the leader of the three that, as they now
came in view of the main road, and the distant wheel of a carriage
whirred on the ear, he threw up his right hand with a joyous gesture, and
burst into a boyish exclamation of hilarity and delight.

"Whist, captain!" said Ned, checking his own spirits with a mock air of
gravity, "let us conduct ourselves like gentlemen; it is only your low
fellows who get into such confoundedly high spirits; men of the world
like us should do everything as if their hearts were broken."

"Melancholy ever cronies with Sublimity, and Courage is sublime," said
Augustus, with the pomp of a maxim-maker.

[A maxim which would have pleased Madame de Stael, who thought that
philosophy consisted in fine sentiments. In the "Life of Lord
Byron," just published by Mr. Moore, the distinguished biographer
makes a similar assertion to that of the sage Augustus: "When did
ever a sublime thought spring up in the soul that melancholy was not
to be found, however latent, in its neighbourhood?" Now, with due
deference to Mr. Moore, this is a very sickly piece of nonsense,