(fatiguing as the conference must have been, for never was there a
duller ecclesiastic than the gentleman conversed with) until we
descended to dinner. Then, for the first time, I learned that nothing
can constitute good breeding that has not good-nature for its
foundation; and then, too, as I was leading Lady Barbara Lackland to the
great hall by the tip of her forefinger I made another observation.
Passing the priest, I heard him say to a fellow-clerk,--

"Certainly, he is the greatest man in England;" and I mentally remarked,
"There is no policy like politeness; and a good manner is the best thing
in the world, either to get one a good name or to supply the want of
it."



CHAPTER VI.

A DIALOGUE, WHICH MIGHT BE DULL IF IT WERE LONGER.

THREE days after the arrival of St. John, I escaped from the crowd of
impertinents, seized a volume of Cowley, and, in a fit of mingled poetry
and melancholy, strolled idly into the park. I came to the margin of
the stream, and to the very spot on which I had stood with my uncle on
the evening when he had first excited my emulation to scholastic rather
than manual contention with my brother; I seated myself by the
water-side, and, feeling indisposed to read, leaned my cheek upon my
hand, and surrendered my thoughts as prisoners to the reflections which
I could not resist.

I continued I know not how long in my meditation, till I was roused by a