Vivian could not forbear to smile at the drollery and wit with which this profligate defended his want of integrity; yet he sometimes seriously and warmly asserted his own principles. Upon these occasions, Wharton either overpowered him by a fine flow of words, or else listened with the most flattering air of admiration, and silenced him by compliments to his eloquence. Vivian thought that he was quite secure of his own firmness; but the contagion of bad example sometimes affects the mind imperceptibly; as certain noxious atmospheres steal upon the senses, and excite the most agreeable sensations, while they secretly destroy the principles of health and life. A day was fixed when a question of importance was to come on in the House of Commons. Wharton was extremely anxious to have Vivian’s vote. Vivian, according to the parliamentary phrase, _had not made up his mind_ on the subject. A heap of pamphlets on the question lay uncut upon his table. Every morning he resolved to read them, that he might form his judgment, and vote according to his unbiassed opinion; but every morning he was interrupted by some of the fashionable idlers whom his facility of temper had indulged in the habit of haunting him daily. “Oh, Vivian! we are going to such and such a place, and you _must_ come with us!” was a mode of persuasion which he could not resist. “If I don’t do as they do,” thought he, “I shall be quite unfashionable. Russell may say what he pleases, but it is necessary to yield to one’s companions in trifles. ‘Whoever would be pleased and please, Must do what others do with ease.’”