made me his confidant, he thought he had a right to exact the same condescension from me; and, accordingly, he asked me from whence I came, whither I was going, and what I was. I was obliged to answer article by article, because he accompanied every question with a profound bow, and begged me to excuse his curiosity with such a respectful air, that I could not refuse to satisfy him in every particular. This engaged me in a long conversation with him, and gave me occasion to mention my design, and the reason I had for disposing of my mule, that I might take the opportunity of a carrier. He approved of my intention, though not in a very succinct manner; for he represented all the troublesome accidents that might befall me on the road, recounted many dismal stories of travellers, and I was afraid would never have done; he concluded, at length, however, telling me that if I had a mind to sell my mule, he was acquainted with a very honest jockey, who would buy her. I assured him he would oblige me in sending for him : upon which he went in quest of him with great eagerness.

It was not long before he returned with his man, whom he introduced to me as a person of exceeding honesty; and we went into the yard all together. There my mule was produced, and passed and repassed before the jockey, who examined her from head to foot, and did not fail to speak very disadvantageously of her. I own there was not much to be said in her praise: but, however, had it been the pope's mule, he would have found some defects in her. He assured me she had all the faults a mule could have; and, to convince me of his veracity, appealed to the landlord, who, doubtless, had his reasons for supporting his friend's assertions. 66 Well," said this dealer, with an air of indifference, "how much money do you expect for this wretched animal?" After the eulogium he had bestowed on her, and the attes tation of Signor Corcuelo, whom I believed to be a man of honesty and understanding, I would have given my mule for nothing, and therefore told him I would rely on his integrity, bidding him appraise the beast in his own con science, and I would stand to the valuation. Upon this he assumed the man of honour; and replied, that, in engaging his conscience, I took him on the weak side. In good sooth,

that did not seem to be his strong side; for, instead of valuing her at ten or twelve pistoles, as my uncle had done, he fixed the price at three ducats, which I accepted with as much joy as if I had made an excellent bargain.

After having so advantageously disposed of my mule, the landlord conducted me to a carrier, who was to set out next day for Astorga. When every thing was settled between us, I returned to the inn with Corcuelo, who, by the way, began to recount the carrier's history. He told me every circumstance of his character in town: and, in short, was going to stupify me again with his intolerable loquacity, when a man of pretty good appearance prevented that misfortune, by accosting him with great civility. I left them together, and went on, without suspecting that I had the least concern in their conversation.

When I arrived at the inn, I called for supper, and, it being a meagre day, was fain to put up with eggs. While they were getting ready, I made up to my landlady, whom I had not seen before. She appeared handsome enough, and withal so sprightly and gay, that I should have concluded (even if her husband had not told me so) that her house was pretty well frequented. When the omelet I had bespoken was ready, I sat down to table by myself; but had not swallowed the first morsel when the landlord came in, followed by the man who had stopped him in the street. This cavalier, who wore a long sword, and seemed to be about thirty years of age, advanced towards me with an eager air, saying, "Mr Student, I am informed that you are that Signor Gil Blas of Santillane, who is the flambeau of philosophy and ornament of Oviedo! Is it possible that you are that mirror of learning, that sublime genius, whose reputation is so great in this country? You know not (continued he, addressing himself to the innkeeper and his wife), you know not what you possess ! You have a treasure in your house! Behold, in this young gentleman, the eighth wonder of the world!" Then, turning to me, and throwing his arms about my neck, "Forgive," cried he, "my transports! I cannot contain the joy your presence creates !"

I could not answer for some time, because he locked me so close in his arms, that I was almost suffocated for want

U

of breath; and it was not till I had disengaged my head from his embrace, that I replied, "Signor Cavalier, I did not think my name was known at Pennaflor." "How! known!" (replied he in his former strain), "we keep a register of all the celebrated names within twenty leagues of us. You, in particular, are looked upon as a prodigy; and I don't at all doubt that Spain will one day be as proud of you as Greece was of the Seven Sages." These words were followed by a fresh hug, which I was forced to endure, though at the risk of strangulation. With the little experience I had, I ought not to have been the dupe of his professions and hyperbolical compliments: I ought to have known, by his extravagant flattery, that he was one of those parasites who abound in every town, and who, when a stranger arrives, introduce themselves to him, in order to fill their bellies at his expense. But my youth and vanity made me judge quite otherwise: my admirer appeared to me so much of a gentleman, that I invited him to take a share of my supper. “Ah, with all my heart," cried he; "I am too much obliged to my kind stars, for having thrown me in the way of the illustrious Gil Blas, not to enjoy my good fortune as long as I can. I own I have no great appetite," pursued he, " but I will sit down to bear you company, and eat a mouthful purely out of complaisance."

So saying, my panegyrist took his place right over against me, and, a cover being laid for him, attacked the omelet as voraciously as if he had fasted three whole days. By his complaisant beginning I foresaw that our dish would not last long, and therefore ordered a second, which they dressed with such dispatch, that it was served up just as we-or rather he had made an end of the first. He proceeded on this with the same vigour, and found means, without losing one stroke of his teeth, to overwhelm me with praises during the whole repast, which made me very well pleased with my sweet self. He drank in proportion to his eating; sometimes to my health, sometimes to that of my father and mother, whose happiness in having such a son as I, he could not enough admire. In the meantime, he plied me with wine, and insisted upon my doing him justice, while I toasted health for health-a circumstance which, together with his

intoxicating flattery, put me into such good humour, that, seeing our second omelet half devoured, I asked the landlord if he had no fish in the house. Signor Corcuelo, who, in all likelihood, had a fellow-feeling with the parasite, replied, “I have a delicate trout, but those who eat it must pay for the sauce: 'tis a bit too dainty for your palate, I doubt." "What do you call too dainty ?" (said the sycophant, raising his voice); "you're a wiseacre, indeed! Know, that there is nothing in this house too good for Signor Gil Blas de Santillane, who deserves to be entertained like a prince."

I was pleased at his laying hold of the landlord's last words, in which he prevented me; and, feeling myself offended, said with an air of disdain, "Produce this trout of yours, Gaffer Corcuelo, and give yourself no trouble about the consequence." This was what the innkeeper wanted: he got it ready and served it up in a trice. At sight of this new dish, I could perceive the parasite's eyes sparkle with joy, and he renewed that complaisance-I mean for the fish —which he had already shown for the eggs. At last, however, he was obliged to give out, for fear of accident, being crammed to the very throat. Having therefore eaten and drank enough, he thought proper to conclude the farce by rising from table and accosting me in these words :Signor Gil Blas, I am too well satisfied with your good cheer, to leave you without offering you an important advice, which you seem to have great occasion for. forth beware of flattery, and be upon your guard against every body you do not know. You may meet with other people inclined to divert themselves with your credulity, and perhaps to push things still farther, but don't be duped again, nor believe yourself, though they should swear it, the EIGHTH WONDER OF THE WORLD."-Adventures of Gil Blas.

''

SUBJECTS OF CONVERSATION.-W. Chambers.

Hence

Subjects of conversation are sometimes exceedingly dif ficult to be had. I have known many a company of welldressed men and women feel themselves most awkwardly situated for want of something to talk about. The weather, which is said to be a never-failing subject, cannot hold out

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above a few minutes at a time. It will stand a round or two rounds, but not more. It is then knocked up for the evening, and cannot with decency be again brought forward. Being thus disposed of, the subject of "news" is introduced; but, as a matter of course, there being no news stirring," "not a word," "nothing in the papers," that subject is soon also dispatched. If there happen to be any very remarkable occurrence worth talking of, what a blessing it is on such occasions! It is food for the company a whole night, and may be again and again brought above board for their amusement. But it much more frequently happens that there is no exciting event to talk about, and then the condition of the company is truly miserable. There being ladies present, or there being two factions in the room, politics are proscribed. Every attempt at getting up a topic failing, the company look into the fire, or in each other's faces, or begin to examine with much interest the pattern of the carpet; and the silence which ensues is truly terrific. A slight whisper is the only sound in the apartment, and is caught at or watched by the company, for it may chance to be the commencement of a conversation in which they may join, without exciting particular attention. But it, too, dies away. It was only a passing under-current of remark between two married ladies in blue and white turbans, on the dearth of coals, the difficulty of getting good servants, or the utility of keeping children muffled in flannel nightgowns from October till March.

At length some good soul makes an effort to brush away his diffidence. He projects a remark across the room towards the little man with the smirking countenance, about Mr This or Miss That, or Signor Such-a-thing, who are at present enlivening the town with their exhibitions.

The re

mark is in itself a very ordinary remark, but it has its use: it quickens the intellects of those who hear it, and the tongues of a number of individuals are set a-going upon the subject of theatrical amusements, singing in the Assembly Rooms, Pasta, Paganini, and private parties, so that the original remark is lost sight of, and the company go on pretty well with what it has produced for perhaps half an hour. All these topics being exhausted, another horrible silence ensues.