with an aunt of his until my head aches.  He only wants you should give him a line, and he would tell you his whole descent from Adam downward, and his whole private fortune to the last shilling.’  A responsible solid fellow was even so much moved by pity for my inexperience as to give me a word or two of good advice:  that I was but a young man after all—­I had at this time a deceptive air of youth that made me easily pass for one-and-twenty, and was, in the circumstances, worth a fortune—­that the company at inns was very mingled, that I should do well to be more careful, and the like; to all which I made answer that I meant no harm myself and expected none from others, or the devil was in it.  ’You are one of those d-d prudent fellows that I could never abide with,’ said I.  ’You are the kind of man that has a long head.  That’s all the world, my dear sir:  the long-heads and the short-horns!  Now, I am a short-horn.’  ‘I doubt,’ says he, ’that you will not go very far without getting sheared.’  I offered to bet with him on that, and he made off, shaking his head.

But my particular delight was to enlarge on politics and the war.  None damned the French like me; none was more bitter against the Americans.  And when the north-bound mail arrived, crowned with holly, and the coachman and guard hoarse with shouting victory, I went even so far as to entertain the company to a bowl of punch, which I compounded myself with no illiberal hand, and doled out to such sentiments as the following:-

‘Our glorious victory on the Nivelle’!  ’Lord Wellington, God bless him! and may victory ever attend upon his arms!’ and, ’Soult, poor devil! and may he catch it again to the same tune!’

Never was oratory more applauded to the echo—­never any one was more of the popular man than I. I promise you, we made a night of it.  Some of the company supported each other, with the assistance of boots, to their respective bedchambers, while the rest slept on the field of glory where we had left them; and at the breakfast table the next morning there was an extraordinary assemblage of red eyes and shaking fists.  I observed patriotism to burn much lower by daylight.  Let no one blame me for insensibility to the reverses of France!  God knows how my heart raged.  How I longed to fall on that herd of swine and knock their heads together in the moment of their revelry!  But you are to consider my own situation and its necessities; also a certain lightheartedness, eminently Gallic, which forms a leading trait in my character, and leads me to throw myself into new circumstances with the spirit of a schoolboy.  It is possible that I sometimes allowed this impish humour to carry me further than good taste approves:  and I was certainly punished for it once.