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 to be summarily turned out of doors in the snow, to meditate on the difference between day and night, and between December and July. It is an age of liberality, indeed, when not to know an oak from a burdock is no disqualification for sylvan minstrelsy. I am for truth and simplicity.

Let him who loves them read Greek: Greek, Greek, Greek.

If he can, sir.

Very true, sir; if he can. Here is the Captain who can. But I think he must have finished his education at some very rigid college, where a quotation, or any other overt act, shewing acquaintance with classical literature, was visited with a severe penalty. For my part, I make it my boast that I was not to be so subdued. I could