miserable one half his days and mad the other;—besides, I like to enjoy my life at all sides and ends, which cannot be done by one that suffers himself to be the slave of a single propensity—and moreover, drinking spoils one's good looks," he concluded, with a most conceited smile that ought to have provoked me more than it did.
"And did Lord Lowborough profit by your advice?" I asked.
"Why, yes, in a manner. For a while, he managed very well; indeed, he was a model of moderation and prudence—something too much so for the tastes of our wild community;—but, somehow, Lowborough had not the gift of moderation: if he stumbled a little to one side, he must go down before he could right himself: if he overshot the mark one night, the effects of it rendered him so miserable the next day that he must repeat the offence to mend it; and so on from day to day, till his clamorous conscience brought him to a stand.—And then, in his sober moments, he so bothered his friends with his
