business, without notice. He thought his merit would never make its way, and was provoked by seeing two or three stupid fellows pushed on by solicitors, or helped up by judges.--He had so much knowledge, talent, and eloquence, that he must in time have made a great figure, and would, undoubtedly, have risen to the first dignities, had he persevered; but he sacrificed himself to pique and impatience. He quitted the bar, and the very summer after he had left it, the illness of a senior counsel on that circuit afforded an opportunity where Temple would have been called upon, and where he could fully have displayed his talents. Once known, such a man would have been always distinguished.--He now bitterly regrets that he abandoned his profession.--This imprudence gave his friends a fair excuse for casting him off; but, he says, their neglect grieves him not, for he had resolved never more to trust to their promises, or to stoop to apply to them for patronage. He has been these last two years in an obscure garret writing for bread. He says, however, that he is sure he is happier, even in this situation, than are some of his cousins at this instant, who are struggling in poverty to be genteel, or to keep up a family name, and he would not change places with those who are in a state of idle and opprobrious dependence. I understand (remember, this is a secret between ourselves)--I understand that _Secretary_ Cunningham Falconer has found him out, and makes _good use of his pen_, but pays him shabbily. Temple is too much of a man of honour to _peach_. So Lord Oldborough knows nothing of the matter; and Cunningham gets half his business done, and supplies all his deficiencies, by means of this poor drudging genius. Perhaps I have tired you with this history of my new friend; but he has interested me extremely:--he has faults certainly, perhaps too high a spirit, too much sensibility; but he has such strict integrity, so much generosity of mind, and something so engaging in his manners, that I cannot help loving, admiring, and pitying him--that last sentiment, however, I am obliged to conceal, for he would not bear it. “I see very little of Erasmus. He has been in the country this fortnight with some patient. I long for his return.--I will make the inquiries you desire about Buckhurst Falconer. “Your affectionate son, “ALFRED PERCY. “P.S. Yes, my dear Rosamond, I _shall_ be obliged to you for the flower-roots for my landlady’s daughter.” LETTER FROM ERASMUS TO HIS FATHER. “MY DEAR FATHER, “Pray do not feel disappointed when I tell you that I am not getting on quite so fast as I expected. I assure you, however, that I have not neglected any honourable means of bringing myself into notice. But it is very difficult for a young man to rise without puffing, or using low means.