"It cannot be helped," said Mr. Perkins, looking as much like amartyr as he possibly could, and skinnyking himself a very finefellow. "I occasionally have talents, sir, which I hope to cultivate; and ammember of a profession by which a man may hope to rise to the veryhighest offices of the State."

"Profession, talents, offices of the State! Are you mad, JohnPerkins, that you come to me with such insufferable twaddle as this?Why, do you think if you HAD been capable of rising at the bar, Iwould have taken so much trouble about getting you a place? No,sir; you are too fond of pleasure, and bed, and tea-parties, andsmall-talk, and reading novels, and playing the flute, and writingsonnets. You would no more rise at the bar than my messenger, sir.It was because I knew your disposition--that hopeless, careless,irresolute good-humour of yours--that I had determined to keep youout of danger, by placing you in a snug shelter, where the storms ofthe world would not come near you. You must have principlesforsooth! and you must marry Miss Gorgon, of course: and by thetime you have gone ten circuits, and had six children, you will haveeaten up every shilling of your wife's fortune, and be as brieflessas you are now. Who the deuce has put all this nonsense into yourhead? I think I know."