been objected unto us by a most discerning critic, that we are addicted to the drawing of 'universal geniuses.' We plead Not Guilty in former instances; we allow the soft impeachment in the instance of Mr. Augustus Tomlinson. Over his fireplace were ranged boxing gloves and fencing foils. On his table lay a cremona and a flageolet. On one side of the wall were shelves containing the Covent Garden Magazine, Burn's Justice, a pocket Horace, a Prayer-book, Excerpta ex Tacito, a volume of Plays, Philosophy made Easy, and a Key to all Knowledge. Furthermore, there were on another table a riding whip, and a driving whip, and a pair of spurs, and three guineas, with a little mountain of loose silver. Mr. Augustus was a tall, fair young man, with a freckled complexion; green eyes and red eyelashes; a smiling mouth, rather underjawed; a sharp nose; and a prodigiously large pair of ears. He was robed in a green damask dressing-gown; and he received the tender Paul most graciously.
There was something very engaging about our hero. He was not only good-looking, and frank
