Sterling, "there is no doubt he will make his way."

"No doubt," echoed Lady Sterling; "but, as they say, or at least my brother George does, that there are many young men of high family and fashion at his college, it is a pity we did not think of getting him some special introduction to them."

"And from whom would you get it, my good woman?" asked Sir Robert. "If the Lord Mayor or Sheriff's could have done it, I would not have scrupled asking them.”

"There's my brother George," replied Lady Sterling.

"Psha! I dare say he stands more in need of recommendations than Robert himself."

So Robert was left to his own resources, to battle it as he could against his own inexperience, and the prejudices and illiberality of others; the only letter he had taken being from his private tutor to one of the head tutors of his college, under whom he was to be entered.

It would not be easy to describe either his amazement or his sense of loneliness, when the ceremony of matriculation was over, and in the midst of a crowd he was left to himself. The venerable richness of the piles around him,

dedicated to learning, with all their associations, did not fail to interest and fix his observation; so that the first day he seemed absolutely in a trance. But he was considerably annoyed by the manner in which he was treated by his brother gownsmen, who, seeing him a complete freshman, did not scruple to stare, to point, and, after they had passed, to giggle, so as to agitate his feelings, which were naturally sensitive, but peculiarly alive to any thing that implied disrespect.

While, however, this was confined to the lower classes of scholars, who were pacing the High Street, with little to distinguish them in their appearance, he was not much stung. But in his own quadrangle he found himself criticised by evidently higher personages-gentlemen in silk gowns and silk stockings (remember, it was a long time ago), with velvet caps on their heads, and some of them with gold tassels floating over them. These did not laugh or stare very rudely; but stare they did, with searching curiosity, as if to ascertain the quality, birth, and parentage of the greenhorn, whom nobody knew.

Greenhorn he certainly was; for thinking that all who were entered of the same college, and engaged in the same pursuits, required no sort

of introduction-nay, his very bonhommie itself urging him to it-he saluted two of these sprouts of fashion, as they stared at him, and actually asked them how they did. To his astonishment, their only reply was laughing with one another; and having looked around, to observe if he had any, and what friends to protect him, and finding none, they turned on their heel, with countenances denoting that he had gained little by this primitive civility.

This annoyed him severely, and not the less when, on inquiring of one of the scouts, he found that the two velvet caps who had thus slighted him were the Honourable Mr. Tylney and the Honourable Mr. Selwyn, sons of peers.

Their names and titles gave him a feeling of discontent, when he thought of his inferiority in family and station, which was perfectly ridiculous. Yet, tyro as he was, he vowed within himself that he would force these very men, before he left college, though he then knew not how, to do him the justice to which he thought he had a right, in being admitted to their society.

He was, however, doomed to still greater mortification the next day. By that time, all the little that was known about him by his tutor at Oxford, from his tutor in the country, was

spread sufficiently abroad, and he heard enough merely in passing among his fellows, though not intended for his ear, to sting his feelings almost to madness.

"Have you seen the city knight, since ?" said Mr. Tylney to Mr. Selwyn, while they were walking before him, not knowing he was behind; while another gownsman asked his companion, what sort of thing was the hackney coach just arrived?

Though awed by the novelty of his situation, and aware that there was a conventional point of merit to which he might not come up, in the opinion of these self-sufficient and self-elected judges of propriety, he was about to show his resentment rather roughly, when the Head of the House came by.

All caps were immediately off, and all thoughts of vengeance stayed.

Doctor Gaston, the Principal, with a mixture of pomp and good-nature (for he had both), returning his salute, asked if he was not the young person who had just entered under Mr. Lambert, the principal tutor.

Replying in the affirmative, the doctor then said he would be glad to have a little conversation

with him, when he had more leisure, and bowed

him away.

The startled tyro did not redeem himself with his quizzing companions by the manner in which he received this salutation of the great man. Taught by his country tutor to consider the Head of a college, particularly if he was of Eton or Westminster, as one of the greatest men upon earth, he blushed, stammered, and looked foolish, and the amusement of his tormenting observers was increased in proportion.

The worst was, he could not fasten a positive affront upon any one person; yet he felt that he was an object of something very like ridicule, and he retired to his room in an agony of rage and indignation, which hardly ever wore out of his recollection, even long after he had quitted the character of freshman, and had taken a part in the world itself.

In truth, our friend, though a person sufficiently proud and independent, and even not unconscious of a degree of mental superiority to many who were above him in rank, added to this, the not uncommon weakness of thinking himself often undervalued, and succumbing under, instead of rising superior to, such a persuasion.