But to return. We have said what Mr. Tippetson was, but we have not said who he was. This information ought not to be withheld from our readers. It is rather difficult to use few words, and it is not fitting for so insignificant a personage that we should use many. We will endeavour to condense. His father was a country attorney; his grandfather a village apothecary; his uncle was steward to a nobleman of large estate; and he himself, Mr. Tippetson, the Henry Augustus, was destined for the church. For the purpose of preparing the young gentleman, he was sent to Cambridge; but unfortunately he came away from thence without taking a degree. Every body knows what immense labor and incessant toil are required to take the degree of Bachelor of Arts. It has been said by very good judges, that a man of the greatest powers of mind, supposing him previously ignorant of the subjects of examination, would not be able to prepare himself for a bachelor's degree in less than a week, and that ordinary geniuses require a fortnight or three weeks. To study three weeks in three years was too much for Mr. Tippetson's nerves, so he left Cambridge without his degree; and as his uncle died in good circumstances and left Henry Augustus a handsome legacy, and as the young gentleman's father also was deceased having left a good fortune to this his only son, the young gentleman thought that his wisest step would be to become a gentleman at once, and relinquish all idea of professional pursuits. As to taking orders, he could not bear the thoughts of those impertinent questions which examining chaplains propose to candidates for holy orders, and he never would give up fancy waistcoats. Thus situated, the young gentleman lounged about and dawdled away his time with considerable ingenuity. There are two unfortunate sets of beings among mankind: those who cannot do any thing, and those who cannot do nothing. The former class counted among its numbers Mr. Henry Augustus Tippetson. He had not the slightest capacity for application to any object of pursuit; but he was no by means unable to do nothing. There are, as our readers may know, certain persons who have acquired such a habit of constant action and incessant employment that they cannot exist without activity: they cannot be idle. They are absolutely proud of it, and fancy that it redounds much to their honor; but it is in fact a misfortune where the assertion is true, and a villanous affectation where it is false. It requires mind to be able to manage either business or leisure: it is the absence of mind that renders man a slave to habit. We have made this digression when speaking of Mr. Tippetson, lest any of our readers being afflicted with what may be called the vertigo of business and employment, may take to themselves an undue portion of credit, and be proud of that as a virtue which in fact is only a weakness. The mind which has not power over itself lacks due strength and health.