At this part of our conference, the bell swinging hoarsely through the long avenues, and over the silent water, summoned us to the grand occupation of civilized life; we rose and walked slowly towards the house. “Does not,” said I, “this regular routine of petty occurrence, this periodical solemnity of trifles, weary and disgust you? For my part, I almost long for the old days of knight-errantry, and would rather be knocked on the head by a giant, or carried through the air by a flying griffin, than live in this circle of dull regularities,--the brute at the mill.” “You may live even in these days,” answered St. John, “without too tame a regularity. Women and politics furnish ample food for adventure, and you must not judge of all life by country life.” “Nor of all conversation,” said I, with a look which implied a compliment, “by the insipid idlers who fill our saloons. Behold them now, gathered by the oriel window, yonder; precious distillers of talk,--sentinels of society with certain set phrases as watchwords, which they never exceed; sages, who follow Face’s advice to Dapper,-- “‘Hum thrice, and buzz as often.’” CHAPTER VII. A CHANGE OF PROSPECTS.--A NEW INSIGHT INTO THE CHARACTER OF THE HERO.--A CONFERENCE BETWEEN TWO BROTHERS. A DAY or two after the conversation recorded in my last chapter, St. John, to my inexpressible regret, left us for London; however, we had enjoyed several conferences together during his stay, and when we parted it was with a pressing invitation on his side to visit him in London, and a most faithful promise on mine to avail myself of the request. No sooner was he fairly gone than I went to seek my uncle; I found him reading one of Farquhar’s comedies. Despite my sorrow at interrupting him in so venerable a study, I was too full of my new plot to heed breaking off that in the comedy. In very few words I made the good knight understand that his descriptions had infected me, and that I was dying to ascertain their truth; in a word, that his hopeful nephew was fully bent on going to town. My uncle first stared, then swore, then paused, then looked at his leg, drew up his stocking, frowned, whistled, and told me at last to talk to him about it another time. Now, for my part, I think there are only two classes of people in the world authorized to put one off to “another time,”--prime ministers and creditors; accordingly, I would not take my uncle’s dismissal. I had not read plays, studied philosophy, and laid snares for the Abbe Montreuil without deriving some little wisdom from my experience; so I took to teasing, and a notable plan it is too! Whoever has pursued it may guess the result. My uncle yielded, and that day fortnight was fixed for my departure.