-a gash open in the cheek-the skull cleft down, or a hand off, and the blood bubbling and gushing forth like a rill of mountainwater. There were more than one of those fellows-devils, I must say, who, when they found among them some strange student, timid or retired, with whose character they were unacquainted, or whose courage they doubted, would pass the hint out of mere sport; brush his skirt, charge the offence upon him, demand an apology too humble for a hare, and dismiss him from the adventure only with an opened shoulder, or daylight through his body.

"There was among us one fellow named Mentz, who assumed, and wore with impunity, the character of head bully. He was foremost in all the devilry. His pistol was death, and his broadsword cut like the scissors of fate. It was curious to see the fellow fire—one, two, three, and good-by to his antagonist. His friendship was courted by all; for to be his enemy was to lie in a bloody grave. At length, grown fearless of being called to account, he took pride in insulting strangers, and even women. His appearance was formidable: a great burly giant, with shaggy black hair, huge whiskers, and grim mustaches, three inches long, twirled under his nose. A sort of beauty he had too: and among the women-heaven help us-wherever those mustaches showed themselves every opponent abandoned the ground. It was, at last, really dangerous to have a sweetheart; for out of pure bravado Mentz would push forward, make love to the lady, frighten her swain, and either terrify or fascinate herself. Should the doomed lover offer resistance, he had no more to do but call a surgeon; and happy enough he considered himself if he escaped with the loss of his teeth or an eye. He had killed four men who never injured him-wounded seventeen, and fought twenty duels. He once challenged a whole club, who had black-balled him anonymously; and was pacified only by being re-admitted, though all the members immediately resigned, and the club was broken up.

"At last there came a youth into the university-slender, quiet, and boyish-looking, with a handsome face, though somewhat pale. His demeanour, though generally shy, was noble and self-possessed. He had been but a short time among us, however, before he was set down as a cowardly creature, and prime game for the devils broke loose,' as the gang of Mentz termed themselves. The coy youth shunned all the riots and revels of the university-insulted no one; and if his mantie brushed against that of another, apologized so immediately, so gracefully, and so gently, that the devil himself could not have fixed a quarrel upon him. It Soon appeared, too, that Gertrude, the lovely daughter of the Baron de Saale-the toast of

all the country-upon whom the most of us had gazed as on something quite above usit soon appeared that the girl loved this youthful stranger. Now Mentz had singled Gertrude out for himself, and avowed his preference publicly. Arnold, for thus was the new student called, was rarely, if ever, tempted to our feasts; but once he came unexpectedly on a casual invitation. To the great surprise and interest of the company, Mentz himself was there, and seated himself unabashed at the table, though an unbidden guest. The strongest curiosity at once arose to witness the result; for Mentz had sworn that he would compel Arnold, on their first meeting, to beg pardon on his knees for the audacity of having addressed his mistress. It had not appeared that Arnold knew anything of Mentz's character, for he sat cheerfully and gaily at the board, with so much the manners of a high-born gentleman, that every one admitted at once his goodness, his grace, and his beauty; and regretted the abyss on the brink of which he unconsciously stood.

666

What, ho!' at length shouted Mentz, as the evening had a little advanced, and the wine began to mount: a toast! Comedrink it all; and he who refuses is a poltroon and a coward. I quaff this goblet-fill to the brim-to the health and happiness of Gertrude de Saale-the fairest of the fair! Who says he knows a fairer is a black liar, and I will write the word on his forehead with a red-hot brand.'

"Every goblet was emptied but one, which stood untasted-untouched. On perceiving this, the ruffian leaning forward, fixed his eyes on the cup, struck his brawny hand down fiercely on the table. which returned a thundering clash and rattle, and then repeated, in a voice husky with rage

"There is a cup full: by St. Anthony! I will make the owner swallow its measure of molten lead, if it remain thus one instant longer.'

"Drink it, Arnold-drink it, boy; keep thy hand out of useless broils,' whispered a student near him, rather advanced in age.

"Drink, friend!' muttered another, dryly, 'or he will not be slow in doing his threat, I promise thee.'

666

Empty the cup, man!' cried a third; never frown and turn pale, or thy young head will lie lower than thy feet ere tomorrow's sunset.'

"It is Mentz, the duellist,' said a fourth. 'Dost thou not know his wondrous skill. He will kill thee as if thou wert a deer, if thou oppose him in his wine. He is more merciless than a wild boar. Drink, man, drink!'

"During this interesting scene, the youth had remained motionless, cool, and silent. A slight pallour, but evidently more of indignation than fear, came over his handsome

"And I accept the challenge.'

"It is for thee to name time, place, and weapon; but, as thou lovest me, let it not be longer than to-morrow night, or I shall burst with rage and impatience.'

For

Her

"Gentlemen,' said he, deem me not either savage or insane, that I sacrifice myself and this brutal wretch thus before your eyes, and to certain and instant destruction. me, I confess I have no value in life. whom I loved I have sworn to forget; and if I existed a thousand years, should probably never see again. This ruffian is a coward, and fears to die; though he does not fear daily to merit death. I have long heard of his baseness, and regard him as an assassin

66 6

To-night then be it,' said Mentz; 'though to-night my hand is not steady; for wine and anger are no friends to the nerves.' "Dost thou refuse me, then?' demanded the youth with a sneer.

"By the mass, no! but to-night is dark; the moon is down; the stars are clouded, and the wind goes by in heavy puffs and gusts. Hear it even now.'

"Therefore,' said the youth, apparently more coldly composed as his fierce rival grew more perceptibly agitated therefore will we lay down our lives here-in this hall-on this spot-on this instant-even as thou standest now.'

"There is no one here who will be my friend,' said Mentz; so evidently sobered and subdued by the singular composure and selfpossession of his antagonist, that all present held him in contempt, and no one stirred. "No matter,' cried Arnold; 'I will myself forego the same privilege.'

"And your weapons?' said Mentz. ""Are here,' cried Arnold, drawing them from his bosom; a surer pair never drew blood. The choice is yours.'

"The company began now to fancy that Arnold had equivocated in disclaiming skill as a duellist; and, from his invincible composure, thought him a more fatal master of the weapon than the bully himself. The latter also partook of this opinion.

666

Young man,' he cried, in a voice clouded and low; but stopped, and said no farther. ""Your choice!' said Arnold, presenting the pistols.

"Mentz seized one desperately, and said— "Now name your distance.'

"Blood-thirsty wolf,' said Arnold, 'there shall be no distance!' He then turned and addressed the company.

--a dangerous beast-whom it will be a mercy and a virtue to destroy. My own life I would well be rid of, but would not fling it away idly when its loss may be made subservient to the destruction of vice and the relief of humanity. Here, then, I yield my breath; and here, too, this trembling and shrinking craven shall close his course of debauchery and murder. My companions, farewell: should any one of you hereafter chance to meet Gertrude de Saale, tell her I nobly flung away a life which her falsehood had made me despise. And now, recreant,' he said, in a fierce tone, turning suddenly toward Mentz, plant thy pistol to my bosom, as I will plant mine to thine. Let one of the company cry three, and the third number be the signal to fire.'

"With an increased paleness in his countenance, but with even more ferocity and firmness, Arnold threw off his cap, displaying his high brow and glossy ringlets. His lips were closed and firm; and his eyes, which glistened with a deadly glare, were fixed on Mentz. He then placed himself in an attitude of firing; broadened his exposed chest full before his foe; and with a stamp of fury and impatience raised the weapon. The brow-beaten bully attempted to do the same; but the pistol, held loosely in his grasp, whether by accident or intention, went off before the signal. Its contents passed through the garments of Arnold, who, levelling the muzzle of his own, cried calmnly-' On your knees, base slave! vile dog! down! or you die!'

"Unable any longer to support his frame, the unmasked coward sunk on both knees and prayed for life with right-earnest vehemence. Again wild shouts of applause and delight, and peals of riotous laughter, stunned his ears. As he rose from his humiliating posture, Arnold touched him contemptuously with his foot. Groans and hisses now began to be mingled with several missiles. Mentz covered his face with his hands and rushed from the room. He was never subsequently seen among us."

The prudent man may direct a state, but it is the enthusiast who regenerates it, or ruins. -Bulwer.

The Public Journals.

THE ART OF DINING.

Ir is not merely the expense, but the trouble and fuss of dinner-giving on the present system, that checks the extended practice of "the Art," and imposes a galling restraint on sociability-many a man, to whom a few pounds are a matter of indifference, being deterred by the prospect of having the lower part of his premises converted into a laboratory for a week. We shall, therefore, endeavour to facilitate the adoption of the simple method, enumerating some of the many excellent things to be found within the precincts of our own country, by those who know when and where to look for them. Much of what we are presently about to state may prove interesting to ornithologists, ichthyologists, and other ologists, as well as to aristologists.

On the subject of soup we merely wish to discountenance the custom of beginning dinner with any strong compound not especially intended as a point in the repast. Such things as turtle at the Albion, potage à la Meg Merrilies at Dalkeith, or grouse soup at Hamilton (made on the principle of a young grouse to each of the party, in addition to six or seven brace stewed down beforehand for stock)—are graces beyond the reach of ordinary art, and may be regarded as exceptions to rule; but we must say that to begin by stuffing one's self with ox-tail or mock turtle when two or three dishes of merit are to follow, argues a thorough coarsenese of conception, and implies, moreover, the digestive powers of an ostrich. Spring soup, or Julienne, is the proper thing in the ordinary run of houses in this country, where varieties of the simple potage are unknown. Palestine soup (one of Ude's last) is strictly within our category, when it can be got, the principal ingredient being the Jerusalem artichoke, whence the name. White soup is a shade too solid, but permissible. As regards spring soup, we recommend Birch's. Fish richly merits a chapter to itself, but as we are not writing a book, we must confine ourselves to a limited number of hints. Our first relates to the prevalent mode of serving, which is wrong. The fish should never be covered up, or it will suffer fatally from the condensation of the steam. Moreover the practice of putting boiled and fried fish on the same dish cannot be too much reprobated, and covering hot fish with cold green parsley is abominable. Sometimes one sees all these barbarities committed at once, and the removal of the cover exhibits boiled and fried fish both covered with parsley, the fried fish deprived of all its crispness from contact with the boiled, and both made sodden by the fall of the condensed steam from the cover; so the only merit the fish has is

being hot, which it might have just as well if it followed instead of accompanying the soup. It is commonly made an object to have fine large slices of cod, as they are called. There is no error greater than this. Cod ought to be crimped in thin slices, and you will then have the whole of your fish boiled equally, whilst in thick slices the thin or belly part is overdone before the thick part is half boiled. Another advantage is that you need not put your fish into the kettle (it ought always to be put into boiling water) until your guests are arrived. Of sauces, we hold Dutch sauce to be applicable to all white-fleshed fish, except perhaps cod, when oyster sauce may be allowed. There is little mystery in the composition of oyster sauce, but lobster sauce is not so generally understood. The lobster should be chopped much smaller than ordinarily, and the sauce should be composed of three parts cream to one of butter, a slight infusion of cayenne, with salt and cavice or coratch, both which may be had of the best quality at Morel's. Lobster sauce leads us by a natural transition to salmon. The Christchurch is decidedly the best in England, for the Thames may now almost be considered extinct, not more than four having been caught within the last four years, though a good inany have been sold as such. The salmon at Killarney, broiled, toasted, or roasted on arbutus skewers, is a thing_apart, and unfortunately inimitable. The Dublin haddock is another untransportable delicacy peculiar to the sister island; but to prevent Scotland from becoming jealous, we will venture to place the fresh herring of Loch Fyne alongside of it. The Hampshire trout enjoy a prescriptive celebrity, but we incline to give the Colne and the Carshalton river the preference. Perch (Thames) and tench are always very good with Dutch sauce. Perch are best water-zoutched, or fried in batter as they used to be at Staines. The superabundant introduction of sea fish has unduly lowered the character of carp; when fat, he is a dish for a prince. Pike (Dutch sauce, again) are capital if bled in the tail and gills as soon as caught; they die much whiter (which is a comfort to themselves), and look better at table. Pike is capitally dressed at the White Hart, at Salisbury London is principally supplied with eels from Holland, and whole

Mr. Jones, the worthy landlord of the White Hart, has learnt the science of good eating by prae. tising it. He often orders down from Londou a couple of quarts of turtle and a hauuch of venison for his own eating, and sits down to dinner by himself; scorning all assistance but that of a bottle of Madeira and two bottles of old Port. Generally speaking, country inns are sadly deteriorated; and if, amongst their numerous commissions, Government would send out one to investigate their state, a real benefit would be conferred ou the community. The main cause, we fear, is the increased rapidity and facility of travelling, which render it unnecessary (for anybody but a Whig commissioner) to sleep upon the road.

cargoes are daily sent up the river to be eaten as Thames or Kennett eels at Richmond, Eel-pie Island, &c. A Dutch eel, small in the head and kept long enough in clean water to purify him, is far from a contemptible commodity; but this creature is certainly to be had in the highest perfection at Godstow, -which is, or used to be, the favourite sidetable of the Oxonians,—at Salisbury, Anderton, or Overton. The landlord of the principal inn at Overton was formerly cook at the York House, at Bath, whilst under the management of Ryley, to whom it is indebted for its celebrity. We take this opportunity of mentioning that we were in error in supposing that the wager respecting the relative merits of the Albion and York House dinners, mentioned in a former number,* was left undecided. It was really won by a refinement of Ryley's in causing his finger-glasses to be supplied with rose-water. The gudgeons at Bath will be found well deserving of the attention of the connoisseur; they are little, if at all, inferior to the most delicate smelts. The best lampreys are from Wor

cester.

The mullet have now deserted Weymouth for the coast of Cornwall, whither we recommend the connoisseur to repair in the dog days, taking care to pay his respects to the dories of Plymouth on the way, and he will have the pleasure of following the example of Quin. There are epicures who combine these luxuries, eating the flesh of the dory with the liver of the mullet; but though the flesh of the mullet be poor, it is exactly adapted to the sauce which nature has provided for it, and we consequently denounce all combinations of this description as heterodox. The Brighton dories are also very fine, and the Jersey mullet are splendid, weighing often three or four pounds apiece. To procure fish, particularly fresh-water fish, in the highest perfection, you had better give a hint, two or three days in advance, to Grove of Charing-cross, the first fishmonger in Europe, as Lord Harrington emphatically termed him the other day within hearing of a friend of ours. "You see, sir," said the gentleman who attends the shop, modestly justifying the commendation, "when these sort of people get tired of cod and salmon, we know how to tip them something nice and natty, like a perch or trout and so forth."

We shall next set down a few specialities regarding birds. The greatest novelty, perhaps, is the poachard or dun-bird, a species of wild-fowl, supposed to come from the Caspian sea, and caught only in a single decoy on the Misley Hall estate, Essex, in the month of January in the coldest years. The mildness of the season kept them away during the winters of 1833-4 and 1834-5; but a few have arrived within the last month, (Jan., * Quarterly Review, No. CVII., p. 141.

1836,) and were generally admired by those who had the good fortune to become acquainted with them. Their flesh is exquisitely tender and delicate, and may almost be said to melt in the mouth, like what is told of the celebrated canvass-back duck of America; but they have little of the common wild duck flavour, and are best eaten in their own gravy, which is plentiful, without either cayenne or lemon-juice. Their size is about that of a fine widgeon.

Ruffs and reeves are little known to the public at large, though honourable mention of them is made by Bewick. The season for them is August and September. They are found in fenny countries, (those from Whittlesea Meer, in Lincolnshire, are best,) and must be taken alive and fattened on boiled wheat, or bread and milk mixed with hemp-seed, for about a fortnight, taking good care never to put two males to feed together, or they will fight à l'outrance. These birds are worth nothing in their wild state, and the art of fattening them is traditionally said to have been discovered by the monks in Yorkshire, where they are still in high favour with the clerical profession, as a current anecdote will show. At a grand dinner at Bishopthorpe (in Archbishop Markham's time) a dish of ruffs and reeves chanced to be placed immediately in front of a young divine who had come up to be examined for priest's orders, and was considerately (or, as it turned out, inconsiderately) asked to dinner by his grace. Out of sheer modesty the clerical tyro confined himself exclusively to the dish before him, and persevered in his indiscriminating attentions to it till one of the resident dignitaries (all of whom were waiting only the proper moment to participate) observed him, and called the attention of the company by a loud exclamation of alarm. But the warning came too late; the ruffs and reeves had vanished to a bird, and with them, we are concerned to add, all the candidate's hopes of Yorkshire preferment are said to have vanished too.-Quarterly Review.

History of British Birds, vol ii., p. 98.

The Gatherer.

Sir Walter Scott and Lady Morgan.Sir Walter Scott was a Scotchman; his novels are enough to convince us of this fact. His exclusive love of Scottish subjects proves his love for Scotland; revering the old customs of his country, he makes amends to himself, by faithfully portraying them, for not being able to observe them more religiously; and his pious admiration for the national character shines forth in the willing'ness with which he details its faults. Irish lady-Lady Morgan-presents herself as the natural rival of Sir Walter Scott, in

An