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^ '' 4././r//. 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 




FRONTISPIECE. 



Set Poffe 116. 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



SIR EDWARD BULWER LYTTON, BART., M.A. 

FROM A DESIGN BY H. K. BROWNE, 
ENGRAVED BY W. T. GREEN. 



" Vtaof of yonr lordthipi mnit reeoUeeC ifhai uaed to talie pUec on the MkIi KMfd* in the neigh- 
bourhood of thb metropoUt lopie yean ago. Bearceljr a carriage oould paaa without being robbed t 
and freqnentlj the paaiengen were obli^ to fight with, and gite battle to. the highwaymen who 
infested the roada.'*— Ddkf itf WtlUngto^t Speech on tk* Metropolit PpUm BiO, /him 6<A. Mimr ^ 
FarUamemtf 1829^ p. 9060. 

" Can any man doubt whether it is better to be n great sUtesman or a oommon thief? **— 
/eaa(*«» If t'M. 



LONDON : 
CHAPMAN AND HALL, 186, STRAND. 

MDCCCXLTIII. 



/^//. 



^^^ 



Pi«i f iKH I 



X.OMSOSJ 




ALBANY FONBLANQUB, 

-WHOSE AC0TEHESS OF WIT IS AOKKOWLBDaXD BT THOSE WHO 
OPPOSE HIS OPINIONS, — 

WHOSE INTBGBITT OF PUBPOSB IS TET MORE RBSPBOIED BT THOSE WHO 
APPBEOIATE HIS FBIBND6HIP, — 

Cl^fi; WEXatk 

IS INSCRIBBD. 



July, mo. 



^■•^ 



PREFACE 

TO 

THE EDITION OF 1840. 



This Novel so far diiFen from the other fictions by the same author, 
that it seeks to draw its interest rather from practical than ideal sources. 
Out of some twelve Novels or Romances, embracing, however inade- 
quately, a great variety of scene and character, — ^from " Pelham " to 
the " Pilgrims of the Rhine,*— from " Rienri " to the " Last Days of 
Pompeii,"— '^ Paul Clifford " is the cnfy cne in which a robber has been 
made the hero, or the peculiar phases of life which he illustrates have 
been brought into any prominent description. 

Without pausing to inquire what realm of manners, or what order of 
crime and sorrow are open to art, and capable of administering to the 
proper ends of fiction, I may be permitted to observe, that the present 
subject was selected, and the Novel written, with a twofold object : 

First, to draw attention to two errors in our penal institutions, viz. 
a vicious Prison-discipline and a sanguinaiy Criminal Code, — ^the habit 
of corrupting the boy by the very punishment that ought to redeem 
him, and then hanging the man, at the first occasion, as the easiest way 
of getting rid of our own blunders. Between the example of crime 
which the tyro learns from the felons in the prison-yard, and the 
horrible levity with which the mob gather round the drop at Newgate, 
there is a connection which a writer may be pardoned for quitting 
loftier regions of imagination to trace and to detect So far this book is 



viii PREFACE. 

less a picture of the king's highway than the law's royal road to the 
gallows^ — a satire on the short cut established between the House of 
Correction and the Condemned Cell. A second and a lighter object in 
the novel of " Paul Clifford " (and hence the introduction of a semi- 
burlesque or travesty in the earlier chapters)^ was to shew that there is 
nothing essentially different between vulgar vice and fashionable vice, — 
and that the slang of the one circle is but an easy paraphrase of the 
cant of the other. 

The Supplementary Essays, entitled ** Tomlinsoniana," which contain 
the corollaries to various problems suggested in the Novel, have been 
restored to the present edition. 

Clifton, 

July25,lBiO. 



PREFACE 

TO 

THE PRBSBNT EDI3JI0N, 1848. 



Mo«r men, dHio, with some earaestneas of mind, examine into the 
mTSteiies ef our social state— will, perhaps, pass through that stage of 
sdf-ediicatioB, in wliddi this Norel was eompoaed. The contrast 
between convMitional frands, received as component parts of the great 
system of ciyilisation, and the less deeeptiye invasions of the laws 
which discriminate the tneum from the tuum, is tempting to a satire 
that is not without its justice. The tragic truths which lie hid, in 
what I may call the Philosophy of Circumstance — strike through our 
philanthropy upon our imagination. We see masses of our fellow- 
creatures — ^the victims of circumstances over which they had no con- 
trol—contaminated in infancy by the example of parents — ^their 
intelligence either extinguished, or turned against them, according as 
the conscience is stifled in ignorance, or perverted to apologies for vice. 
A child who is cradled in ignominy ; whose schoolmaster is the felon ; 
—whose academy is the House of Correction;— who breathes an atmo- 
sphere in which virtue is poisoned, to which religion does not pierce — 
becomes less a responsible and reasoning human being than a wild 
beast which we suffer to range in the wilderness — ^till it prowls near 
our homes, and we idU it in self-defence. 

In this respect, the Novel of " Paul Clifford ** is a loud cry to society 



X FBEFACE. 

to amend the circnmstance — ^to redeem the victim. It is an appeal 
from Homanity to Law. And^ in this, if it could not pretend to influ- 
ence, or guide the temper of the times, it was at least a foresign of a 
coming change. Between the literature of imagination, and the prac- 
tical interests of a people, there is a harmony as complete as it is 
mysterious. The heart of an author is the mirror of lus age. The 
shadow of the sun is cast on the still sur£EUM of literature, Jong hefore 
the light penetrates to law. But it is ever from the sun that the 
shadow falls, and the moment we see the shadow, we may be certain 
of the light. 

Since this work was written, society is busy with the evils in which 
it was then silently acquiescent. The true movement of the last fifteen 
years has been the progress of one idea— Social Reform. There, it 
advances with steady and noiseless march behind every louder question 
of constitutional change. Let us do justice to our time. There have 
been periods of more brilliant action on the destinies of States — but 
there is no time visible in Histoiy in which there was so earnest and 
general a desire to improve the condition of the great body of the 
people. In every circle of the community that healthful desire is astir ; 
it unites in one object men of parties the most opposed — ^it affords the 
most attractive nucleus for public meetings— it has cleansed the statute- 
book from blood ; it is ridding the world of the hangman. It animates 
the clergy of all sects in the remotest districts ; it sets the squire on 
improving cottages and parcelling out allotments. Schools rise in every 
village ; — ^in books the lightest, the Grand Idea colours the page, and 
bequeathes the moral. The Gbvemment alone (despite the professions 
on which the present Ministiy was founded) remains unpenetrated by 
the common genius of the age. But on that question, with all the 
subtleties it involves, and the experiments it demands— (not indeed 
according to the dreams of an insane philosophy, but according to the 
immutable laws which proportion the rewards of labour to the respect 
for property) — a Government must be formed at last. 

There is in this work a subtler question suggested, but not solved. 
That question which perplexes us in the generous ardour of our earl 



PBEFACB. zl 

youth— -which, unaatiafiictory as all metaphysics, we rather escape ftom 
than decide as we adyance in years, viz. — ^make what laws we please, 
the man who lives within the pale can he as bad as the man without. 
Compare the Paul Clifford of the fiction with the William Brandon ; 
the hunted son and the honoured father, the outcast of the law, the 
dispenser of the law— the felon, and the judge; and, as at the last, they 
front each other, one on the seat'of justice, the other at the convict's 
bar, who can lay his hand on his heart and say, that the Paul Clifibrd 
is a worse man than the William Brandon ? 

There is no immorality in a truth that enforces this question ; for it is 
precisely those offences which society cannot interfere with, that society 
requires fiction to expose. Society is right, though youth is reluc- 
tant to acknowledge it. Society can form only certain regulations 
necessary for its self-defence — ^the fewer the better — punish those who 
invade, leave unquestioned those who respect them. But fiction 
follows truth into all the strongholds of convention ; strikes through 
the disguise, lifts the mask, bares the heart, and leaves a moral where- 
ever it brands a falsehood. 

Out of this range of ideas, the mind of the Author has, perhaps, 
emerged into an atmosphere which he believes to be more congenial to 
Art. But he can no more regret that he has passed ^through it, than he 
can regret that while hedwelt there, his heart, like his years, was young. 
Sympathy with the suffering that seems most actual — indignation at 
the frauds which seem most received as virtues— are the natural 
emotions of youth, if earnest: More sensible afterwards of the prero- 
gatives, as of the elements, of Art, the author at least seeks to escape 
where the man may not, and look on the practical world through the 
serener one of the ideal. 

With the completion of this work closed an era in the writer's self- 
education. From " Pelham" to " Paul Clifford " (four fictions, all 
written at a vexy early age), the author rather observes than imagines ; 
rather deals with the ordinary surface of human life, than attempts, 
however humbly, to soar above it or to dive beneath. From depicting 
in "Paul Clifford" the errors of society, it was almost the natural 



pngnnol reflfimB to pft» ta those wkidi ««r«U to eriine in th^ 
Immao htorty— 4:om* thft bdd aad open e^lls Uiai gpimg from ignoiance 
and ezasftple, to trade tfaoie tbat lie coiled in the eiitanj^eiii^its 
of refixnng knowledge aoid s{>eeBlatiYe pride. Looldng back at tins 
dktanee ci yesnt^ I cm nee, ae clearly^ a» if mapp^ bef<M« me, the 
paths whidi led acron thebonndaijof nvcntumfrom "Paol CHfibrd" 
to ^^ Eogene Aiam." And^ that last wofk doae, no leas deaxiy can I see 
where the first gleans from & frner fiuef broke upon my way, and 
rested on those more ideal images, whidi I sought, with a feeble hand, 
to transfer to the '^Pilgnms of the Rhine," and the "Lad; Days of 
Pompeii.* We anthoxs, like the Ghiidien in the Fable^ traek oar 
jomney thnngh the maae by the pebbles which we stiew along the 
path. From others who wander after ns, Ukey may attract no notice, or, 
if noticed, seem to them b«t scattered by the cajMiee <tf dance. But 
we^ when our memory wwdd retrace our steps, review, in the hvmble 
stones, the witnesses of onr progress the landmaiks of our way. 

Knebwobth, 
1848. 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



CHAPTER I. 

*' Say, ye opprest by some fantastic woes. 
Some jarring nerve that baffles your repose. 
Who press the downy oouch while slaves advance 
With timid eye to read the distant glance ; 
Who with sad prayers the weary doctor tease 
To name the nameless ever-new disease ; 
Who with mock patience dire complaints endure. 
Which real pain and that alone can cure : 
How would you bear in real pain to lie 
Despised, neglected, left alone to die ? 
How would ye bear to draw your latest breath 
Where all that's Avretched paves the way to death ? " 



JT was a dark and stonny niglit; the 
rain fell in torrents — except at occa- 
sional intervals^ -when it was checked 
by a violent gust of wind which swept 
np the streets (for it is in London that 
our scene lies)^ rattling along the 
house-topS; and fiercely agitating the 
scanty flame of the lamps that strug- 
gled against the darkness. Through 
one of the obscurest quarters of 
London^ and among !] haunts little 
loYed by the gentlemen of the police^ 
a man^ evidently of the lowest orders, 
was wending his solitary way. He 
stopped twice or thrice at different 
fihops and houses of a description cor- 
respondent with the appearance of the 
guartier in which ihe^ffff^e situated, 
—and tended inquiry for some article 
or another which did not seem easily 
to be met with. All the answers he 
received were couched in the negative ; 
jmd as he turned from each door he 
No. 21. 



Crabbe. 

muttered to himself, in no veiy ele- 
gant phraseology, his dlBappouitment 
and discontent. At length, at one 
house, the landlord, a sturdy butcher, 
after rendering the same reply the 
inquirer had hitherto received, added^ 
— " But if this vill do as veil, Dummie, 
it is quite at your sarvice I " Pausing 
reflectively for a moment, Dummie 
responded, that he thought the thing 
proffered migJU do as well; and 
thrusting it into his ample pocket he 
strode away with as rap'd a motion as 
the wind and the rain would allow. 
He soon came to a nest of low and 
dingy buildings, at the entrance to 
which, in half-efiaced characters, was 
written " Thames Court." Halting at 
the most conspicuous of these build- 
ings, an inn or alehouse, through the 
half-closed windows of whfch blazed 
out in ruddy comfort the beams of the 
hospitable hearth, he knocked hastily 
B 1 



2 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



at the door. He was admitted by alady 
of a certain age, and endowed with 
a oomelj rotundity of race and person. 

"Hast got it, Dummie?" said she 
quickly, as she closed the door on the 
guest. 

"Noa, noal not exactly — but I 
thinks as ow * * 

" Pish, you fbol ! " cried the woman 
interrupting him, peevishly. "Yy, 
it is no use desaving me. You knows 
you has only stepped frommy boosing 
ken to another, and you lias not been 
arter the book at all. So there's the 
poor cretur a-raving and a-dying, and 
you " 

" Let I speak ! " interrupted Dum- 
mie in his turn. " I tells you, I vent 
first to Mother Bussblone's, who, I 
knows, chops the whiners morning 
and evening to the yoimg ladies, and 
I axes there for a Bible, and she says, 
says she, * I *as oiily a " Companion to 
the JJalter 1 ' but you'll get a Bible, 
I thinks, at Master Talkins, — ^the 
cobbler, as preaches.' So I goes to 
Master Talkins, and he says, says he, 
'I 'as no call for the Bible — 'cause 
vy 1 — ^I 'as a call viihotit; but mayhap 
you 11 be a^tting it at the butcher's 
iiover the vay, — cause vy ^— the .but- 
cher '11 be damned I ' So I goes hover 
the vay, and the botcher says, says he, 
\' I 'as not a Bible ; but I 'as a book of 
^^lajB bound for all the vorld joBt -like 
'' 'nn, and mayhap the poor cretor mayn't 
aee^the differenee.' So I takes the plays, 
Mrs. Margery,and here they be suie^f / 
—And how 's poor Judy 1 " 

"feamome! she 'U not be the over 
.night, I *m a*thinking." 
^ "Yell, 1 11 track up .th« danceral" 

So sfQriDg, Bammie ascended a door- 
less staircase, across the entrance of 
which a blanket, stretched angularly 
from the wall to the chimney, afibrded 
.a kind of screen; and presently he 
atood within a chamber, which the 
dark and painful genius of Crabbe 
might have ddi^tod to portray. 
The walls wen while-waehed, and «t 



sundry places strange figures and gro- 
tesque characters had been traced by 
some mirthful inmate, in such sable 
outline as the end of a smoked stick 
or the edge of a piece of charcoal is 
wont to produce. The wan and flick- 
ering light aflForded by a Ikrthing 
candle gave a sort 6f grimness and 
menace to these achievements of pic- 
torial art, especially as they more 
than once received embellishment 
from portraits of Satan, such as he is 
accustomed to be drawn. A low fire 
burned gloomily in the sooty grate ; 
and on the hob hissed " the still small 
voice " of an iron kettle. On a round 
deal-table were two vials, a cracked 
cup, a broken spoon of some dull 
metal, and upon two or three muti- 
latod chairs were scattered various 
articles of female attire. On another 
table, placed below a high, narrow, 
shutterless casem^it (athwart which, 
instead of a curtain, a checked apron 
had been loosely hung, and now waved 
fitfally to and fro in the gusts of wind 
that made easy ingress l^rough many 
a chink and cranny), were a looking- 
glass, sundry ttpplkuDces of thie toilet, 
a box of coarse rouge, a few oxnaments 
of more ukwr than value; and « 
watch, the regular and calm diek of 
which produced that JBdescribably 
painful feeling which, we ter^ many 
of our readers who hav« liettd the 
sound in a sick chamber can easily 
recall A large teater-bed stood oppo- 
site to this table, and tbe looldsg- 
ghiss partiaUy reflected curtam^ of a 
faded stripe, and era and anon (as 
the poaition of the aaffiner followed 
the restless emotion of a diaordored 
mind), glimpses of the &ee of ono on 
whom Death was vapidly haateaung. 
Beside this bed now stood Bmimie, a 
small, thin man, dreiaed in a tattered 
plush jerkin, from whieh iiha lain- 
drops slowly dripped, and with « tins, 
yellow, ounning physLogDNUBy, gro- 
tesquely hideous in feature but not 
poflitively viUaaons ijteMpmHPMUi. On 



PAUL CUFFOBIX 



the other ude of the bed stood alittle 
hcfj. of about three years old, dreeaed 
as if bdoDging to the better classes, 
although the garb was somewhat tat- 
ieredaad diaeolonred. The poor child 
tremUed yioleiitly, and evidently 
looked with a feeling of relief on the 
entranoe of Dumnue. And now there 
slowly, and witthmanyaphthisical sigh, 
heaved towards the foot of the bed the 
heavy frame of the woman who had ac- 
costed Dnmmie below, andhadfollowed 
him, haudpaesibus ceqtds, to the room 
of the Bofferer ; she stood with a bottle 
of medicine in her hand, shaking its 
contents up and down, and with a 
kindly yet timid compassion spread 
over a conntoiance crimsoned with 
habitual libations. This made the 
scene; save that on a chair by the 
bed-side lay a profiision of long g^xHsey 
gcMen ringlets^ whidi had been cnt 
from the hnd of the sufferer when the 
fever had begun to mount npwwrds ; 
but which, with a jealousy that por- 
trayed the darling Uttlenees of a vain 
hearty she had aeked and insisted on 
retaining near^her ; and save that, by 
the fire, per&ctiy inattentive to the 
event about to take place wilhin the 
diamber, aad to which we of the biped 
-vaee attach so awful an importance, 
lay a large grey cat, curled in a ball, 
aad dosing with half-shut eyes, aad 
ears that now and then denoted, bry a 
gentle inflection, the jar of a louder or 
nearer sound tban usual upon her 
lethargic senses. > The dying woman 
did not at fiist attend to the entiaaoe 
tiiher of Dummie or the female at the 
foot of the bed ; but she tumed her- 
self round towards the child, and 
grafiqping his arm fieteely, she drew 
ium. towards her, and gazed on his ter- 
rified features with a look in which 
ttdiaastion and an ezoeeding wanness 
4>f eomplezion were even horribly eon- 
toasted by the glare and enezgy of 
■daUiinm. 

" If you ajre like him," she mat- 
teed, 'a YiU stmttgle yon,^! wSli! 



—ay— tremble ! yoo ought to trenakHe, 
when your mother touches you, or 
when ?ie is mentioned. Yon have his 
eyes,— yon have! Out with them, 
out 1 — ^the devil sits lau^^iing in them ! 
Oh! yon weep, do you, little onet 
Well now, be still, my love, — ^be 
hushed! I would not hann thee! 
harm — O God, he is my child after 
all!" — And at these words she 
cla^d the boy passionately to her 
breast, and burst into tears 1 

" Ooom now, coom ! ** said Dnmmie, 
soothingly. '' Take the stuff, Judith, 
and then ve 11 talk over the hurehin ! " 

The mother rdaxed her grasp of 
the boy, and turning towards the 
speaker, gazed at him for some mo- 
ments with a bewildered stare: at 
length she appeared slowly to re- 
nsember him, and said, as die raised 
herself on one hand, aiod pohited the 
other towards him with an inquiring 
gesture, — 

" Thon hast brought the book V 

Dummie answered by lifting up the 
book he had brought from the honest 
butcher's. 

" Clear ^e room, then !" said 1^ 
sufferer, with that air of mock comh 
mand so common to the insane. ^ We 
would be alone ! " 

Dummie winked at the good woman 
at the foot of tiie bed ; and she (though 
generally no easy person to order or to 
persuade) left,wiUiont rdnetanee, the 
sick chamber. 

'^ if she be ergoing to pray!" muv- 
muxed our iandtady (for tibatrofilee 
did the good matron hold), ^*l may 
indeed as well take myself tfS; for it's 
not werry comfortable like to those 
who be old to hear all that 'ere 1" 

Withthispiousreieetionythehosteis 
of the Mug, so wasrthe hostelry oaUed^ 
heavily descended the cnaking staiM. 

''Now, man!" said the sufi^rer, 
sternly : ** tfwear that fyou wfll never 
z«¥eal,-^swear, I say ! sad l^the great 
Ood, whose angels are ai>oat this nighty 
if ever you break the <athy I wiU-cosie 

B 2 



PAUL CLIFFORIX 



back aad haunt you to your dying 
dayl" 

Dmnmie's feuse grew pale^ for he 
was snperstitiously affected by the 
yehemence and the language of the 
dying woman, and he answered as he 
kissed the pretended Bible, — ^that he 
Bwore to keep the secret, as much as 
he knew of it, which,, she must be 
sensible, he said, was yery little. As 
he spoke, the wind swept with a loud 
and sudden gust down the chimney, 
and shook the roof aboye them so 
yiolently as to loosen many of the 
crumbling tiles, which fell one after 
the other, with a crashing noise, on 
the payement below. Dummie started 
in affinght ; and perhaps his conscience 
smote him for the trick he had played 
with regard to the fiUse Bible. But the 
woman, whose excited and unstrung 
neryes led her astray from one subject 
to another with preternatural celerity, 
said, with an hysterical laugh, " See, 
Dummie, they come in state for me , 
giye me the cap — ^yonder ! and bring 
the looking-glass ! " 

Dummie obeyed, and the woman, 
as she in a low tone uttered something 
about the unbecoming colour of the 
■ribands, adjusted the cap on her head'; 
and then saying in a regretfal and 
petulant yoice, "Why should they 
haye cut oflF my hair? — such a dis- 
figurement ! '' bade Dummie desire Mrs. 
Margery once more to ascend to her. 

Left alone with her child, the fieuse 
of the wretched mother softened as 
she regarded him, and all the leyities 
and aU the rehemences, — ^if we may 
use the word,— which, in the turbu- 
lent commotion of her delirium, had 
been stirred upward to the sur&ce of 
her mind, gradually now sunk, as 
death increased upon her, — and a 
mother's anxiety rose to the natural 
leyel from which it had been disturbed 
And abased. She took the child to 
her bosom, and Clasping him in (her 
arms, which grew weaker with eyery 
instant, she soothed him with the 



sort of chant which nurses sing oyer 
their untoward infants ; but the yoice 
was cracked and hollow, and as she 
felt it was so, the mother's eyes filled 
with tears — ^Mrs. Margery now re- 
entered; and, turning towards the 
hostess with an impressiye calmnesH 
of manner which astonished and awed 
the person she addressed, the dying 
woman pointed to the child, and said, — 

" You; haye been kind to me, yery 
kind, and may God bless you for it ! I 
haye found that those whom the world 
calls the worst are often the most 
human. But I am not going to thank 
you as I ought to do, but to ask of you 
a last and exceeding fayour. Protect 
my child till he grows up : you haye 
often said you loyed him, — ^you are 
childless yourself, — and a morsel of 
bread and a shelter for the night, 
which is all I ask of you to giye him, 
will not impoyerish more legitimate 
claimants ! " 

Poor Mrs. Margery, fairly sobbing, 
yowed she would be a mother to the 
child, and that she would endeayour 
to rear him honestly, though a public- 
house was not, she confessed, the best 
place for good examples 1 

<' Take him ! " cried the mother 
hoarsely, as her yoice, failing her 
strength, rattled indistinctly, and 
almost died within her. " Take him, 
— ^rear him as you will, as you can ! — 

any example, any roof better than " 

Here the words were inaudible. ''And 

oh! may it be a curse, and a 

Giye me the medicine, I am dying." 

The hostess, alarmed, hastened to 
comply, but before she returned to 
the bedside the sufierer was insensi- 
ble,— nor did she again recoyer speech 
or motion. A low and rare moan only , 
testified continued life, and within two 
hours that ceased, and the spirit was 
gone. At that time our good hostess 
was herself beyond the things of this 
outer world, haying supported her 
spirits during the yigils of the night 
with so many little liquid stimulants^ 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



that they finally sunk into that tor- 
por which generally succeeds excite- 
ment. Taking, perhaps, advantage 
of the opportunity which the insen- 
sibility of the hostess afforded him, 
Bammie, by the expiring ray of the 
candle that burnt in the death cham- 
ber, hastily opened a huge box (which 
was generally concealed under the 
bed,, and contained the wardrobe of 
the deceased), and turned with irre- 
verent hand over the linens and the 
silks, until quite at the bottom of the 
trunk he discovered some packets of i 
letters ; — ^these he seized, and buried | 
in the conveniences of his dress. He i 
then, rising and replacing the box, | 



cast a longing eye towards the watch 
on the toUet-table, which was of gold ; 
but he withdrew his gaze, and with 
a querulous sigh, observed to himself, 
''The old blowen kens o*that, od 
rat her! but, howsomever, I'll take 
this; who knows but it may be of 
sarvice — tannies to-day may be smash 
to-morrow !" * and he laid his coarse 
hand on the golden and silky tresses 
we have described. " 'Tis a rum 
business, and puzzles I! but mum's 
the word, for my own little col- 
quarren." + 

With this brief soliloquy Dummie 
descended the stairs, and let himself 
out of the house. 



CHAPTER IL 



' Imagination fondly stoops to trace 
The parlour splendours of that festiye place." 

Daerted Village. 



There' is little to interest in a 
narrative of early childhood, unless 
indeed one were writing on education. 
We shall not, therefore, linger over 
the infancy of the motherless boy left 
to the protection of Mrs. Margery 
Lobkins, or, as she was sometimes 
familiarly called, Peggy or Piggy Lob. 
The good dame, drawing a more than 
sufficient income from the profits of a 
house, which, if situated in an obscure 
locality, enjoyed very general and 
lucrative repute; and being a lone 
widow without kith or kin, had no 
temptation to break her word to the 
deceased, and she suffered the orphan 
to wax in strength and understanding 
until the age of twelve, a period at 
which we are now about to reintro- 
duce him to our readers. 

The boy evinced great hardihood of 
temper, and no inconsiderable quick- 
ness of intellect. In whatever he 
attempted, his success was rapid, and 
a remarkable strength of limb and 



muscle seconded well the dictates of 
an ambition turned, it must be con- 
fessed, rather to physical than mental 
exertion. It is not to be supposed, 
however, that his boyish life passed 
in unbroken tranquillity. Although 
Mrs. Lobkins was a good woman on 
the whole, and greatly attached to her 
protigi, she was violent and rude in 
temper, or, as she herself more flatter- 
ingly expressed it, " her feelings were 
unkimmonly strong," and alternate 
quarrel and reconciliation constituted 
the chief occupations of the protSgi'B 
domestic life. As, previous to his be- 
coming the ward of Mrs. Lobkins, he 
had never received any other appel- 
lation than " the child," so, the duty 
of christening him devolved upon our 
hostess of the Mug ; and, after some 
deliberation, she blessed him with 



* Cleaning, vrhnt is of no value now may 
be precious hereafter. 
t Colquarren— neck. 



FAUL CLIFI^BD. 



i)xe name of Paul — ^it was a nan^ of 
happy om^ for it had belonged to 
Mrs. Lobkins* grandfather, who had 
been three times transported, and 
twice hanged (at the first occurrence 
of the latter descniption, he had been 
restored by the surgeons, much to the 
ohagrin of a young anatomist who was 
to have had the honour of cutting him 
up). The boy did not seem likely to 
merit the distinguished appellation 
he bore, for he testified no renmrkable 
predisposition to the property of other 
people. Nay, although he sometimes 
emptied the pockets of any stray 
tisitor to the coffee-room of Mrs, Lob- 
kins, it appeared an act originating 
rather in a lore of the frolic, than a 
desire of the profit; for after the 
plundered person had been sufficiently 
tormented by the loss, haply of such 
utilities as a tobacco-box, or a.hand- 
kerchief ; after he had, to the secret 
delight of Paul, searched every comer 
of the apartment, stamped, and fretted, 
and exposed himself by his petulance 
to the bitter objurgation of Mrs. Lob- 
kins, our young filend would quietly 
and sudd^y contriye, that the article 
missed should return of its own acc(Hrd 
to the pocket from which it had dis- 
appeared. And thus, as our readers 
have doubtless experienced, when they 
haye disturbed the peace of a whole 
household for the loss of some portable 
treasure which they themselves are 
afterwards discovered to have mislaid, 
the unfortunate victim of Paul's honest 
ingenuity, exposed to the collected 
indignation of the spectators, and 
sinking from the accuser into the con- 
victed, secretly cursed the unhappy 
lot which not only vexed him with 
the loss of his property, but made it 
still more annoying to recover it. 

Whether it was that, on discovering 
these pranks, Mrs. Lobkins trembled 
for the future bias of the address they 
displayed, or whether she thought 
that the folly of thieving without gain 
required speedy and permanent- cor- 



jrection, we cannot decide; but the 
good lady became at last extremely 
anxious to secure for Paul the bless- 
ings of a liberal education. The 
; key of knowledge (the art of read- 
' ing) she had, indeed, two years prior 
, to the present date^ obtained for 
him, but this &r from satisfied her 
' conscience : nay, she felt that, if she 
could not also obtain for him the dia- 
cretion to use it, it would have beoi 
wise even to have withheld a key^ 
which the boy seemed perversely to 
apply to all locks but the right od6. 
In a word, she was desirous that he 
should receive an education fiur sape- 
rior to those whom he saw around 
him. And attributing, like most 
' ignorant persons, too great advan- 
tages to learning, she conceived that, 
in order to live as decorously as the 
parson of the parish, it was only 
necessary to know as much Latin. 

One evening in particular, as the 
dame sat by her cheerful fire, this 
source of anxiety was unusually active 
in her mind, and ever and anon she 
directed unquiet and restless glances 
towards Paul, who sat on a form at 
the opposite coiner of the hearth, 
diligently employed in reading the 
life and adventures of the celebrated 
Bichard Turpin. The form on which 
the boy sat was worn to a glassy 
smoothness, save only in certain places, 
where some ingenious idler or another 
had amused himself by carving sundry 
names, epithets, and epigrammatic 
niceties of language. It is said, that 
the organ of carving upon wood is 
prominently developed on all English 
skulls ; and the sagacious Mr. Combe 
has placed this organ at the back of 
the head, in juxtaposition to that of 
destructiveness, which is equally large 
among our countrymen, as is notably 
evinced upon all railings, seats, tem- 
ples, and other things — belonging to 
other people. 

Opposite to the fire-place was a 
large deal table, at which Dummie^ 



PAUL CLIPPOED. 



mammoi. JJtonaakmt, seized near the 
dame, wm quietly rnminating oyer a 
glass of hoUands and water, farther 
on, at another table in the comer of 
the room, a geAtlemaa witharedwig^ 
Y617 roaly gannenta, and liaen. which 
seemed aa if it had bee& boiled in 
aaffiron, smoked his pipc^ apart, silent, 
and apparently plimged in meditailon. 
This g^oftttemaiL was no other than 
Mr. Peter Mao Grawler, the editor of 
a magnificent periodical, entitled 
" The Asinasmn," which was written 
to prove, that whatever is popular is 
necesBarily bad, — a valuable and re* 
Qondite truth, which " The Aslnseum " 
had aatii^Mtorily demonstrated by 
ruining three printers and demolish* 
ing a publisher^ We need not add, 
that Mr. Mai9 Grawler was Scotch by 
birth, since we believe it is pretty 
well known that aU periodicals of this 
country have, from time immemorial, 
been monop(^ised by the gentlemen 
of the land of Cakes : we know not 
how it may be the £E^hion to eat the 
said cakes in Scotland, but here the 
good emigrators seem to like them 
carefully buttered on both sides. By 
the side of the editor stood a large 
pewter tankard, above him hung an 
^igravlng of the " wonderfally fat boar, 
formerly in the posseasiou of Mr. Fat- 
tem^ grazier." To his left rose the 
dingy form of a thin, upright dock 
in an. oaken case ; beyond the dock, a 
spit and a musket were fastened in 
parallels to the wall. Below those 
twin emblems of war and cookery were 
four shdves, containing plates of 
pewter and delf, and terminating, cen- 
taur-like, in a sort of dresser. At the 
other side of these domestic conve- 
niences was a picture of Mrs. Lobkins, 
in a scarlet body, and a hat and 
plume. At the back of the &ir hostess 
stretched the blanket we have before 
mentioned. As a relief to the mono> 
tonous sur&ce of this simple screoi, 
various ballads and learned legends 
were pinned to the blanket. There 



might yon read in versee^. paithMM 
and unadorned, how, 

« S^y lored a saflor lad 
As fought withfRBBona BhoTd !* 

There inight you leant, if of two faeta 
so instructive you were before 
scions, that 

** Ben the top«r loved his bottl»— 
ChaAey only loved the lasses ! ** 



When of these, and various other 
poetical efiusions, you were somewhat 
wearied, the. literary fragments, m. 
humbler prose, aflfbrded you equai. 
edification and delight. There might 
you fully enlighten yourself as to the 
•' Strange and Wonderful News firom 
Kensington, being a most full and 
true Relation how a Maid there ia 
supposed to have been carried awaj 
by an: Evil Spirit, on Wednesday, Ifili 
of April last, about Midnight.'' There 
too, no less interesting and no leS» 
veracious, was that uncommon aneo* 
dote, touching the chief of many* 
throned powers, entitled^ *' The Divdl 
of Mascon; or the true Belation of 
the Chief Things which an IJndeaii 
Spirit did and said at Mascon, in 
Burgundy> in the house of one Mr. 
Frauds Pereaud : now made English 
by One that hath a Particular Enow* 
ledge of the Truth of the Story." 

Nor were these materials for Satanic 
histoiy the only prosaic and faithful 
chronicles which the bibliothecal 
blanket afibrded: equally wonderful, 
and equally indisputable, was the 
account of ''a young lady, the daughter 
of a duke, with three legs, and the 
face of a porcupine." Kor less so» 
''The Awful Judgment of Qod upoa 
Swearers, as exemplified in the case 
of John Stiles, who Dropped down 
Dead after swearing a Great Oath, 
and oih stripping the unhappy man 
they found ' Swear not at all ' written 
on the tail of his shirt ! " 

Twice had Mrs. Lobkins heaved a 
long sigh, as her eyes turned from 



PAUL CLIPFOED. 



Paul to the tranqail countenance of 
Dummie Dunnaker, and now, re- 
settling herself in her chair, as a 
motherly anzietj gathered over her 
visage,— 

''Paul, my ben cnll," said she, 
" what gibberish hast got there ? " 

"Turpin, ^ great highwayman I" 
answered the young student, without 
lifting his eyes from the page, through 
which he was spelling his instructiye 
way. 

" Oh ! he be*s a chip of the right 
block, dame!" said Mr. Dunnaker, 
as he applied his pipe to an illumined 
piece of paper. "Hell ride a oss 
foaled by a hacom yet, I varrants ! " 

To this prophecy the dame replied 
only with a look of indignation, and 
rocking herself to and fro in her huge 
chair, she remained for some moments 
in silent thought. At last she again 
wistfully eyed the hopeful boy, and 
calling him to her side, communicated 
some order, in a dejected whisper. 
Paul, on perceiving it, disappeared 
behind the blanket, and presently 
returned with a bottle and a wine- 
glass. With an abstracted gesture, 
and an air that betokened continued 
meditation, the good dame took the 
inspiring cordial from the hand of her 
youthful cup-bearer, 

*' Anderea man had power to say * Behold! ' 
The jaws of Lobkins had devoured it up : 
Bo quick bright thLagacome to confusion ! " 

The nectarean beverage seemed to 
operate cheerily on the matron's sys- 
tem; and placing her hand on the 
boy's curling head, she said, (like 
Andromache, ddknwn gelaaasa, or, 
as Scott hath it, " With a smile in her 
cheek, but a tear in her eye ; ") — 

"Paul, thy heart be good!— thy 
heart be good !— Thou didst not spill 
a drop of the tape/ Tell me, my 
honey, why didst thou lick Tom 
Tobysonl" 

" Because," answered Paul, "he BsAd 
as how you ought to have been hanged 
long ago!" 



"Tom Tobyson is a good-for- 
nought," returned the dame, " and 
deserves to shove the twmJtler;* but, 
oh my child 1 be not too venturesome 
in taking up the sticks for a blowen. 
It has been the ruin of many a man 
afore you, and when two men goes to 
quarrel for a 'oman, they doesn't know 
the natur of the thing they quarrels 
about; — mind thy latter end, Paul, 
and reverence the old, without axing 
what they has been before they passed 
into the wale of years ; — ^thou may'st 
get me my pipe, Paul,— it is up-stairs, 
under the pillow." 

While Paul was accomplishing this- 
errand, the lady of the Mug, fixing 
her eyes upon Mr. Dunnaker, said, 
"Dummie, Dummie, if little Paul 
should come to be scragged 1" 

"Whish!" muttered Dummie, 
glancing over his shoulder at Mac 
Grawler, — "mayhap that gemman," 
— ^here his voice became scarcely au- 
dible even to Mrs. Lobkins ; but his 
whisper seemed to imply an insinua> 
tion, that the illustrious editor of 
" The Asins&um" might be either an 
informer, or one of those heroes on 
whom an informer subsists. 

Mrs. Lobkins' answer, couched in 
the same key, appeared to satisfy- 
Dunnaker, for, with a look of great 
contempt, he chucked up his head, 
and said, " Oho ! that be all, be it !" 

Paul here reappeared with the pipe, 
and the dame, have filled the tube, 
leaned forward, and lighted the Vir- 
ginian weed from the Uower of Mr. 
Dunnaker. As in this interesting^ 
occupation the heads of the hostess 
and the guest approached each other, 
the glowing light playing cheerily on 
the countenance of each, there wa& 
an honest simplicity in the picture 
that would have merited the racy and. 
vigorous genius of a Cruikshank. As 
soon as the Promethean spark had 
been fully communicated to the lady's^ 



* Be whipped at the cart's taiL 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



9 



tnbe^ Mrs. Lobkins, still possessed by 
the gloomy idea she had conjured up, 
repeated, — 

'* Ah, Dnmmie, if little Paul should 
be scragged!" Dummie, withdrawing 
the pipe from his mouth, heaved a 
sympathisingpufiT, but remained silent ; 
and Mrs. Lobkins, turning to Paul, 
who stood with mouth open and ears 
erect at this boding ejaculation, said, — 

" Dost think, Paul, they'd have the 
heart to hang thee ]'* 

" I think they'd have the rope, 
dame !" returned the youth. 

" But you need not go for to run 
your neck into the noose!" said the 
matron; and then, inspired by the 
spirit of moralising, she turned round 
to the youth, and gazing upon his 
attentive countenance, accosted him 
with the following admonitions : — 

" Mind thy kittychism, child, and 
reverence old age. Never steal, 'spe- 
cially when any one be in the way. 
Never go snacks with thftn as be 
older than you, — 'cause why? the 
older a cove be, the more he cares for 
his self, and the less for his partner. 
At twenty, we diddles the public ; at 
forty, we diddles our cronies! Be 
modest, Paul, and stick to your siti- 
vation in life. Go not with fine 
tobymen, who bum out like a candle 
wot has a thief in it, — all flare and 
gone in a whifiy! Leave liquor to 
the aged, who can't do without it. 
Ta'pe often proves a halter, and there 
he's no ruin like blue ruin ! Bead 
your Bible, and talk like a pious 'un. 
People goes more by your words than 
your actions. If you wants what is 
not your own, try and do without it ; 
and if you cannot do without it, take 
it away by insinivation, not bluster. 
They as swindles, does more and risks 
less than they as robs; and if you 
cheats toppingly, you may laugh at 
the topping cheat.* And now go play." 

Paul seized his hat, but lingered ; 

* Gallows. 



and the dame guessing at the signifi- 
cation of the pause, drew forth, and 
placed in the bo/s hand the sum 
of five halfpence and one fiirthing. 
" There, boy," quoth she, and she 
stroked his head fondly when she 
spoke ; " you does right not to play 
for nothing, it 's loss of time 1 but 
play with those as be less than your- 
sel', and then you can go for to beat 
'em if they says you go for to cheat !'* 
Paul vanished ; and the dame, lay- 
ing her hand^on Dummie's shoulder, 
said, — 

" There be nothing like a friend 
in need, Dummie; and somehow or 
other, I thinks as how you knows 
more of the horrigin of that 'ere lad 
than any of us!" 

'' Me, dame ! " exclaimed Dummie, 
with a broad gaze of astonishment. 

" Ah, you I you knows as how the 
mother saw more of you just afore- 
she died, than she did of 'ere one of 
us. Noar, now — noar, now! tell u» 
all about 'un. Did she steal 'un, 
think ye r 

" Lauk, mother Margery ! dost 
think I knows? Yot put such a 
crotchet in your 'eadV* 

"Well!" said the dame with a 
disappointed sigh, " I always thought 
as how you were more knowing about 
it than you owns. Dear, dear, I shall 
never forgit the night when Judith 
I brought the poor cretur here, — you 
I knows she had been some months in 
my house afore ever I see'd the urchin, 
and when she brought it, she looked 
' so pale and ghostly, that I had not the- 
I heart to say a word, so I stared at 
' the brat, and it stretched out its wee 
I little hands to me. And the mother 
frowned at it, and throwed it into my 
.lap!", 

I " Ah ! she was a hawful voman, 
' that 'ere !" said Dummie, shaking his^ 
\ head. " But howsomever, the hurchin 
, fell into good hands; for I he's sure- 
' you 'as been a better mother to 'uxk 
1 than theraal'un!" 



10 



PAUL CLUFOED. 



<< I was always a fool aboat childer,' 
rqoined Mrs. Lobkins ; " and I thinks 
as how little Paol was sent to be a 
comfort to my latter end! — fill the 
glass, Dimunie.'' 

" I 'as heard as ow Judith was onee 
l^owen to a great lord ! " said Dni^m:' 

''Like enough!" returned Mrs. 
Lobkins — " like enough ! She was 
always a fayourite of mine, for she 
had a spuret (spirit) as big as my 
own; and she paid her rint like a 
decent body, for all she was out of 
her sinses, or nation like it." 

''Ay, I hnmoB as how you liked 
her, — ^'cause yy ? — 'tis not your vay, 
to let a room to a voman ! You says 
aa how 'tis not respectable, and you 
only likes men to wisit the Mug !" 

" And I doesn't like all of them 
as comes here!" answered the dame: 
" 'specially for Paul's sake ; but what 
can a lone 'oman do % Many^s the gen^ 
tleman highwayman wot comes here, 
whose money is as good as the clerk's 
of the parish. And when a bob* is 
in my hand, what does it sinnify 
whose hand it was in afore V* 

" That's what I call being sinsible 
and prcuAicaly* said Dummie, approv- 
ingly. " And arter all, though you 
'as a mixture like, I does not know 
a halehouse where a cove is better 
entertained, nor meets of a Sunday 
more Ulegant company, than the Mug !" 

Here the conrersation, which the 
reader must know had been sustained 
in a key inaudible to a third person, 
receiyed a check from Mr. Peter Mac 
Grawler, who, haying finished his 
revery and his tankard, now rose to 
depart. First, however, approaching 
Mrs. Lobkins, he observed that he 
had goAe on credit for some days, 
and demanded the amount of his bill. 
Glancing towards certain chalk hiero- 
glyphics inscribed on the wall at the 
other side of the fire-place, the dame 
answered, that Mr. Mac Grawler was 

♦ Shilling. 



indebted to her for the sum of one 
shilling and ninepenee three farthings. 

After a short preparatory search 
in his waistcoat pockets, tiie critic 
hunted into one comer a solitary 
half-crown, and haying caught it be- 
tween his finger and thumb, he gave 
it to Mrs. Lol^ins, and requested 
change.- 

As soon as the matron felt her 
hand -anointed with what has been 
called by some ingenious Johnson of 
St Gilo's ^'the oil of palms," her 
countenance softened into a compla- 
cent smile; and when she gave the 
required jchange to Mr. Mac Grawler, 
she graciously hoped as how he would 
recommend Uie Mug to the public. 

" That you may be sure of," said 
the editor of " The Asin»um." " There 
is not a place where I am so much at 
home." 

With that the learned Scotsman 
buttoned his coat and went his way. 

" How spitefiil the world be !" said 
Mrs. Lobkins after a pause, " 'specially 
if a 'oman keeps a &8hionable sort of 
a public! When Judith died, Joe, 
the dog's-meat man, said I war all the 
better for it, and that she left I a trea- 
sure, to bring up the. urchin. One 
would think a thumper makes a man 
richer, — 'cause why] — every man 
thumps I I got nothing more than a 
watch and ten guineas when Judy 
died, and sure that scarce paid for 
the burrel (burial)." 

" You forgits the two qtdda* I giv* 
you for the hold box of rags, — ^much 
of a treasure I found there!" said 
Dummie, with sycophantic archness. 

"Ay," cried the dame, laughing* 
"I fuioies you war not pleased with 
the bargain. I thought yon war too 
old a rag-merchant to be so free with 
the b7unt : howsomever, I supposes it 
war the tinsel petticoat as took yon 
in!" 

" As it has mony a viser man than 

* Qnineas. 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



11 



the like of I," rejoined Dummie, who 
to his various secret professions added 
the ostensible one of a rag-merchant 
and dealer in broken glass. 

The recollection of her good bar- 
gain in the box of rags opened our 
landlady's heart. 

'* Drink, Dummie/' said she good- 
humouredly, — "drink, I scorns to 
score lush to a friend." 

Dummie expressed his gratitude, 
refilled his glass, and the hospitable 
matron knocking out from her pipe 
i^e dying ashes, thus proceeded : — 

*^ You sees, Dianmie, though I 
often beats the boy, I lores him, as 
mndi as if I war his raal mother — I 
wants i^ make him an honour to his 
country and an ixciption to my fa- 
milyr 

''Who all flashed their irories at 
Surgeon's Hall!" added the meta- 
phorical Dummie. 

"True!" said the lady, — "they 
died game, and I ben't aE^amed of 
'em. But I owes a duty to Paul's 
mother, and I wants Paul to hare a 
long life. - I would send him to school, 
but you knows as how the boys only 
corrupt one another. And so, I should 
like to meet with some decent man 
as a tutor, to teach the lad Latin and 
varine 1 " 

"My eyes ! " cried Dummie, aghast 
at the grandeur of this desire. 

" The boy is 'cute enough, and he 
loves reading," continued the dame. 
" But I does not think the books he 
gjpts hold of wUl teach him the way 
to grow old." 

"And ow came he to read anyhows ? " 

" Ranting Rob, the strolling player, 
taught him. his letters, and said he'd 
a deal of jonius ! " 



"And why should not Ranting 
Rob tache the boy Latin and vartue 1 " 

" 'Cause Ranting Rob, poor fellow, 
wm lagged for doing a panny / " ♦ 
answered the dame, despondently. 

There was a long silence: it was 
broken by Mr. Dummie : slapping 
his thigh with the gesticulatory vehe- 
mence of an TJgo Poscolo, that gentle* 
man exclaimed, — 

" / 'as it — ^I 'as thought of a tutor 
for leetle Paul!" 

" Who 's that ?— you quite frightens 
me ; you 'as no marcy on my narves," 
said the dame, fretfully. 

" Vy it be the gemman vot writes," 
said Dummie, putting his finger to 
his nose, — " the gemman vot payed 
you so flashly I " 

" What 1 the Scotch genunani " 

" The worry same ! " returned 
Dummie. 

The dame turned in her chair, and 
refilled her pipe. It was. evident 
from her manner that Mr. Dunnaker^s 
suggestion had made an impression 
on her. But she recognised two 
doubts as to its feasibility: one, 
whether the g^itleman proposed 
would be adequate to the task; the 
other, whether he would be willing 
to undertake it. 

In the midst of her meditations on 
this matter, the dame was interrupted 
by the entrance of certain claimants 
on her hospitality ; and Dummie 
soon after taking his leave, the sus- 
pense of Mrs. Lobkins' mind touching 
the education of little Paul remained 
the whole of that day and night 
utterly unrelieved. 



* Transported for buiglaiy. 



12 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



[CHAPTER IIL ^ 

** I own that I am enylous of the pleasure yon will have in finding yourself more 
learned than other boys— even those who are older than yourself! What honour this 
will do you ! What distinctions, what applauses will follow wherever you go ! " 

Lord CHSsTCRrisLD'a Letters to hii Son. 

" Example, my boy— example is worth a thousand precepts." 

Maximilian Solbjun. 



Tabpeia was crashed beneath the 
weight of ornaments ! The language 
of the vnlgar is a sort of Tarpeia ! 
We have therefore relieved it of as 
many gems as we were able ; and, in 
the foregoing scene, presented it to 
the gaze of our readers, simplex tmm- 
dUiis. Nevertheless, we could timidly 
imagine some gentler beings of the 
softer sex rather displeased with the 
tone of the dialogue we have given, 
did we not recollect how delighted 
they are with the provincial bar- 
barities of the sister kingdom, when- 
ever they meet them poured over the 
pages of some Scottish story-teller. 
As, unhappily for mankind, • broad 
Scotch is not yet the universal lan- 
guage of Europe, we suppose our 
countrywomen will not be much 
more unacquainted with the dialect 
of their own lower orders, than with 
that which breathes nasal melodies 
over the paradise of the North. 

It was the next day, at the hour of 
twilight, when Mrs. Margery Lobkins, 
after a satisfiEUJtory tSte-d-tSte with Mr. 
Mac Grawler, had -the happiness of 
thinking that she had provided a 
tutor for little Paul. The critic 
having recited to her a considerable 
portion of Propria quce Maribus, the 
good lady had no longer a doubt of 
his capacities for teaching; and, on 
the other hand, when Mrs. Lobkins 
entered on the subject of remunera- 
tion, the Scotsman professed himself 
perfectly willing to teach any and 



every thing that the most exacting- 
guardian could require. It was finally 
settled that Paul should attend Mr* 
Mac Grawler two hours arday; that 
Mr, Mac Grawler should be entitled 
to such animal comforts of meat and 
drink, as the Mug afforded; and, 
moreover, to the weekly stipend of 
two shillings and sixpence, the shil- 
lings for instraction in the classics, 
and the sixpence for all other human- 
ities ; or, as Mrs. Lobkins expressed 
it, " two bobs for the Latin, and a sice 
for the vartue ! " 

Let not thy mind, gentle reader, 
censure us for a deviation from proba- 
bility, in making so excellent and 
learned a gentleman as Mr. Peter Mac 
Grawler the feimiliar guest of the lady 
of the Mug. First, thou must know 
that our story is cast in a period ante- 
cedent to the present, and one in 
which the old jokes against the cir- 
cumstances of author and of critic 
had their foundation in truth; se- 
condly, thou must know, that by 
some curious concatenation of cir- 
cumstances, neither bailiff nor bailiff's 
man was ever seen within the four 
walls continent of Mrs. Margery 
Lobkins ; thirdly, the Mug was. 
nearer than any other house of public 
resort to the abode of the critic ; 
fourthly, it afforded excellent porter ; 
and fifthly, — reader, thou dost Mrs. 
Margery Lobkins a grievous wrong, 
if thou supposest that her door was 
only open to those mercurial gentry 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



13 



who are afflicted with the morbid 
cariosity to pry into the mysteries of 
their neighbours' pockets : — other 
Tisitors of fair repute were not unoften 
partakers of the good matron's hospi- 
tality; although it must be owned 
that they generally occupied the pri- 
yate room in preference to the public 
one. And sixthly, sweet reader (we 
grieye to be so prolix), we would just 
hint to thee, that Mr. Mac Grawler 
was one of those yast-minded sages 
who, occupied in contemplating 
monJs in the great scale, do not 
fritter down their intellects by a base 
attention to minute details. So that, 
if a descendant of Langfimger did 
sometimes cross the yenerable Scot 
in his yisit to the Mug, the apparition 
did not reyolt that beneyolent mo- 
raUst so much as, were it not for the 
aboye hint, thy ignorance might lead 
thee to imagine. 

It is said, that Athenodorus the 
Stoic contributed greatly by his con- 
yersation to amend the fitults of 
Augustus, and to effect the chan^ 
Tisible in that fortunate man, after 
his accession to the Boman empire. 
If this be true, it may throw a new 
light on the character of Augustus, 
snd, instead of being the hypocrite, 
he was possibly the conyert. Certain 
it is, that there are few yices which 
cannot be conquered by wisdom : and 
yet, melancholy to relate, the instruc- 
tions of Peter Mac Grawler produced 
but slender amelioration in the habits 
of the youthful Paul. That ingenious 
stripling had, we haye already seen, 
under the tuition of Banting Bob, 
mastered the art of reading; nay, 
he could eyen construct and link 
together certain curious pot-hooks, 
which himself and Mrs. Lobkins were 
wont graciously to term "writing." 
So fer, then, the way of Mac Grawler 
was smoothed and prepared. 

But, unhappily, all experienced 
teachers allow that the main diffi- 
culty is not to learn, but to unlearn ; 



and the mind of Paul was already 
occupied by a yast number of hetero- 
geneous miscellanies, which stoutly 
resisted the ingress either of Latin 
or of yirtue. Nothing could wean 
him from an ominous affection for 
the history of Bichard Turpin: it 
was to him what, it has been said, 
the Greek authors should be to the 
Academician, — ^a study by day, and a 
dream by night. He was docile 
enough during lessons, and some- 
times eyen too quick in conception 
for 'the stately march of Mr. Mac 
Grawler's intellect. But ^it not un- 
frequently happened, that when that 
gentleman attempted to rise, he found 
himself, like the Udy in Comus, ad- 
hering to — 

" A venomed seat 
Smeared with gums of glatinoos heat :" 

or his legs had been secretly united 
under the table, and the tie was not 
to be broken without overthrow to 
the superior powers; these, and ya- 
riouB other little sportive machina- 
tions wherewith Paul was wont to 
relieve the monotony of literature, 
went far to 'disgust the learned critic 
with his imdertaking. But *'the 
tape " and the treasury of Mrs. Lob- 
kins re-smoothed, as it were, the irri- 
tated bristles of his mind, and he 
continued his labours with this philo- 
sophical reflection : — " Why fret my- 
self 1 — ^if a pupil turn out well, it is 
clearly to the credit of his master ; if 
not, to the disadvantage of himself." 
Of course, a similar suggestion never 
forced itself into the mind of Dr. 
Keate.* At Eton, the very soul of 
the honest head-master is consumed 
by his zeal for the welfiEtre of little 
gentlemen la stiff cravats. 

But to Paul, who was predestined 
to enjoy a certain quantum of know- 
ledge, circumstances happened, in the 
commencement of the second year of 



* A oelebiated Fdnoipal of Eton. 



14 



PAUL CLIPFOEIX 



Ua pttpi]«ge, which pTodigiouslj acce- 
lerated the progress of his BchoUstic 
career. 

At the apaftment of Mac Grawler, 
Ftol one morning encoautered Mr. 
AngoBtas Tomlinaon, a young man of 
great promise, who pursued tlie peace- 
ful occupation of chromcUug in a 
leading newspaper, " Horrid Miurders," 
"Enormous Melons/' and "Bemark- 
able Circumstances." This gentleman, 
having the advantage of some years' 
seniority over Paul, was slow in un- 
bending his dignity ; but observing at 
last the eager and respectful attention 
with which the stripling listened to a 
most veracious detail of five men being 
inhumanly murdered in Canterbury 
Cathedral by the Reverend Zedekiah 
Fooks Ban^cle, he was touched by the 
impression hehadcreated,and shaking 
Paul graciously by the hand, he told 
him there was a dealof natural shrewd- 
ness in his countenance; and that 
Hr. Augustus Tomiinson did not 
doubt but that he (Paul) might have 
the honour to be murdered himself 
one of these days. — " You understand 
me ! ** continued Mr. Augustus, — ** I 
mean murdered in effigy,— ^assassin- 
ated in type, — ^while you yourself, 
iraoonscious of the circnmstance, are 
quietly enjoying what you imagine to 
be your existence. We never kill 
common persons : to say truth, our 
chief spite is against the Church ; — 
we destroy bishops by wholesale. 
S(mietime8, indeed, we knock off a 
leading barrister or so ; and express 
tiie anguish of the junior eonnsel at a 
loss BO destructive to their interests. 
But that is only a stray hit ; and the 
fihun barrister often lives to become 
ftfetomey-general, lenounce Whig prin- 
ciples, and prosecute the very press 
that destroyed him. Bishops are our 
proper food : we send them to heaven 
on a sort of flying griffin, of which the 
back is an apoplexy, and the wings 
are puffii. The Bishop of ^~^, whom 
we despatched in this manner the 



other day, being rather a froetieoa 
personage, wrote to remonatrate with 
us thereon; observing, that though 
heaven was a very good translation 
for a bishop, yet that, in such cases, 
he preferred ' the original to the trans- 
lation.' As we murder bishops, so is 
there another class of persons whom 
we onlyafflictwith lethiferous diseases* 
This latter tribe oonsistsof his Mijesty 
and his Majesty's ministers. When- 
ever we cannot abuse thehr measures, 
we always Ml foul on thMr health; 
Does the king pass any popular law,—* 
we immediately insinuate that his 
constitution is on its last legs. Dom 
the minister act like a man of sense, 
— ^we instantly observe, with great 
regret, that his complexion is remark- 
ably pale. There is one manifest 
advantage in disetmiug pe<^le, instead 
of absolutely destroying thsm. The 
public may flatly contradict its in one 
case, but it nevet can in the other : — 
it is easy to prove that a man is alive : 
but utterly impossible to prove that 
he is in health. What if some opposing 
newspaper take up the cndgels in his 
behalf, and assert that the victun of 
all Pandora's complainta, whom ve 
send tottering to thie gvave, passes one 
half the day in kno(^ing op a 'dis- 
tinguished company' at a shooting- 
party, and the other half in outdoing 
the same * distinguished company' 
after dinner? What if the affiieted 
individual himself write w word that 
he never was better in his life1-*^we 
hftve only mysteriously to shake our 
heads and observe, that to contcadict 
I is not to prove, — ^thatit is UtUe likely 
that our authority should have been 
mistaken, and — (we aie vei^ fond of 
an historical compari6on)^-4>^ our 
readers to remember, that when Car- 
dinal Richelieu was dying, nothing 
enraged him so muich as hinting th«t 
he was ill. In short, if Hosaee is right, 
we are the veiy princes of poets; for 
I dare say, Mn Mac Grawler, that jaa, 
— and yea, too^ ny little ^ntlemin, 



PAUL CUFFOBD. 



16 



pesiftetly remember tke ^words of the 
vise old Boman, — 

* nieper extentnm ftmem mihi poaie-videtar 
Ire poeta, meum qui peotas iaaniter angit, 
Iizitat, midoet* fidate IwvkUnw Inptot.' "* 

Haying uttered this quotation with 
considerable self-complacency, and 
thereby entirely completed his con- 
quest oyer Paul, Mr. Augustus 
Tomlinson, turning to Mac Grawler, 
concluded his business with that 
gentleman, which was of a literary 
nature, namely a joint composition 
against a man who, being under fiye- 
and-twenty, and too poor to g^ye 
dinners, had had the impudence to 
write a sacred poem. The critics were 
exceedingly bitter at this ; and haying 
TCiy little to say against the poem, 
the Court journals called the author a 
** coxcomb,** and the liberal ones "the 
son of a pantaloon ! " 

TSiere was an ease, — ^a spirit, — a life 
about Mr. Augustus Tomlinson, which 
captiyated the senses of our youn^ 
hero : then, too, he was exceedingly 
smartly attired ; wore red heels and a 
bag ; had what seemed to Paul quite 
the air of a "man of fa^ion;" and, 
aboye all, he spouted the Latin mih 
a Temarkable grace ! 

Some days afterwards, Mac Grawler 
Bent our hero to Mr. Tomlinson's 
lodging^ with his share of the joint 
abuse upon the poet 

Doubly was Paul's reverence for 
Mr. Augustus Tomlinson increased by 
a sight of his abode. He found him 
settled in apolite part of the town, in 
a yeiy spruce parlour, the contents of 
which manifested the uniyersal genius 
of the inhabitant It hath been ob- 
jected imto US by a most discerning 
critic, that we are addicted to tli^ 
dramng of " uniyersal geniuses." We 
plead Kot Q^uilty in former instances ; 
"we allow Uie soft impeachment in the 



« «He appean to me to be, to fhe foUest 
•zt0nt» apoet wlw airily tonMute taj teeast, 
~ altwithuiniatarai.'' 



instmee of Mr. Augustas TomlinioiL 
Orer his finplaoe were arranged box- 
ing' gloyes and fencing foils. On h53 
table lay a eremcma and a flageolet 
On one side of the wall were ahelTOB 
eontaioing the Coyent Garden Maga- 
zine, Bom's Jastice,a pocket Horace, 
a Prayer-book, Mccerpta ex Taeito, a 
yolume of Plays, Philosophy made 
Easy, and a Key to all Knowledge. 
Fmrthennore, there were on another 
table a riding-whip, and a driying- 
whip, and a pair of spuia, and three 
guineas, with a litUe mountain of 
loose silyer. Mr. Augustas was a tall, 
fur young man, with a freckled com- 
plexion ; green eyes and red eyelids ; 
a snuling mouth, rather under-jawed; 
a sharp nose ; and a prodigiously large 
pair of ears. He was robed in a 
greet! damask dresiing^^own ; and 
he reeeiyed the tender Paul most 
giaciooftly. 

Tbiere was something yezy engaging 
about our hero. He was not only 
good-looking, and frank m aspect, but 
he had tiiat appearance of briflkness 
and intellect which belong to an 
embtyo rogue. Mr. Augustas Tun- 
linson profiessed the greatest regard 
for him,-— asked him if he eonld box 
— ^made him put on a pair of gloyes-— 
and, yeiy condescendingly, knod^ed 
him down three times sneeessiyely. 
Next Jie ^played him, both upon his 
flageolet :'^DA his ciemona^ some of 
the most modish airs. Moreover, he 
sang him a little song of his own 
composing. He thai, taking np the 
driying-whip, flanked a fly from the 
opposite wall, and throwing himself 
(natumlly.&tigned with faia numerous 
exertions) on his bo&, he observed, .in 
a careless tone, that he and his friend 
Lord Dunshunner were uniyeraally 
esteemed the best whips in the metro- 
polis. ''I,*' quoth Mr. Augustos, "am 
tiie best on the road ; but my lord is 
a deyil at tuning a comer.'* 

Baol, who had hitherto lived too 
TmHophirti<nted a life to be amwn «of 



16 



•PAUL CLIFFORD. 



the importance of which a lord would 
naturally be in the eyes of Mr. 
Augustas Tomlinson, was not so much 
struck with the grandeur of the con- 
nexion as the murderer of the journals 
had expected. He merely observed, 
by way of compliment, that Mr. 
Augustus and his companion seemed 
to be "rolling kiddies." 

A little displeased with this meta- 
phorical remark — ^for it may be ob- 
served that " rolling kiddy " is, among 
the learned in such lore, the cus- 
tomary expression for " a smart thief " 
— ^the universal Augustus took that 
liberty to which, by his age and 
station, so'much superior to those of 
Paul, he imagined himself entitled, 
and gently reproved our hero for his 
indiscriminate use of flash phrases. 

"A lad of your parts," said he, — 
'' for I see you are clever by your eye, 
—ought to be ashamed of using such 
vulgar expressions. Have a nobler 
spirit — ^a loftier emulation, Paul, than 
that which distinguishes the little 
ragamuffins of the street. Know that, 
in this country, genius and learning 
carry every thing before them; and 
if you behave yourself properly, you^ 
may, one day or another, be as high 
in the world as myself." 

At this speech Paul looked wistfully 
round the spruce parlour, and thought 
what a fine thing it would be to be 
lord of such a domain, together with 
the appliances of flageolet and cre- 
mona, boxing gloves, books, fly-flank- 
ing flagellum, three guineas, with the 
little mountain of sUver, and the 
reputation — shared only with Lord 
Dunshunner— of being the best whip 
in London. 

" Yes !" continued Tomlinson, with 
conscious pride, "I owe my rise to 
myself. Learning is better tluin house 
«iid land. 'Doctrina sed vim/ &c. 
You (know what old Horace says? 
Why, sir, you would not believe it ; 
but I was the man who killed his 
'msgesty the King of Sardinia ia our 



yesterday's paper. Kothing is too 
arduous for genius. Fag hard, my 
boy, and you may rival — ^for the 
thing, though difficult, may not be 
Impossible — Augustus Tomlinson ! " 

At the conclusion of this harangue, 
a knock at the door being heard, 
Paul took his departure, and met in 
the hall a fine-looking person dressed 
in the height of the fashion, and 
wearing a pair of prodigiously lai^ 
buckles in his shoes. Paul looked, 
and his heart swelled. " I may rival," 
thought he — ^those were his very 
words — " I may rival— for the thing, 
though difficult, is not impossible— ^ 
Augustus Tomlinson ! " Absorbed in 
meditation, he went silently home. 
The next day the memoirs of the 
great Turpin were committed to the 
flames, and it was noticeable that 
henceforth Paul observed a choicer 
propriety of words,— that he assumed 
a more refined air of dignity, and 
that he paid considerably more atten- 
tion than heretofore to the lessons of 
Mr. Peter Mac Grawler. Although 
it must be allowed that our young 
hero's progress in the learned lan- 
guages was not astonishing, yet an 
early passion for reading growing 
stronger and stronger by application, 
repaid him at last with a tolerable 
knowledge of the mother-tongue. We 
must, however, add that his more 
fikvourite and cherished studies were 
scarcely of that nature which a pru- 
dent preceptor would have greatly 
commended. They lay chiefly among 
novels, plays, and poetry, which last 
he afiect«d to that degree that he 
became somewhat of a poet himselt 
Nevertheless these literary avocations, 
profitless as they seemed, gave a cer^ 
tain refinement to his tastes, which 
they were not likely otherwise to 
have acquired at the Mug ; and while 
they aroused his ambition to see some- 
thing of the gay life they depicted, 
they imparted to his temper a tone of 
enterprise and of thoughtlesa gene 



PAUL CUFFOBB. 



17 



Todtj, which peihape oontribuied 
greaUy to counteract those evil influ- 
ences towaands petty yice, to which the 
examples around him must haye ex- 
posed his tender youth. Bat, alas 1 a 
-great disappointment to Paul's hope 
of assistance and companionship in 
his literaiy labours hefd him. Mr. 
Augustus Tomlinson, one bright 
morning, disappeared, leaving word 
with his numerous Mends, that he 
was going to accept a lucratiTe situ- 
ation in the North of Bngland. Not- 
withstanding the shock this occasioned 



to the affMStionate heart and aqthring 
temper of our friend Paul, it abated 
not his ardour in that field of science, 
which it seemed that the distinguished 
absentee had so Bucceaaliilly culti- 
vated. By UtUe and Uttle, he possessed 
himself 0n addition to the literaiy 
stores we have alluded to) of^ it was 
in the power of the wiseaa4v>lbund 
Peter Mao Grawler to impm unto 
him; and at the age of siztsen he 
began (0 the presumption of youth !) 
to fancy himself more learned than 
his master. 



CHAPTER IV. 



*' He had now beoome a yoimg man of extreme faabion, and aa mnoh r^pandu In aoeiety 
aa the utmost and moat exigent ooyeter of London oelebrity oonld dealrai He waa. of 
ooorae, a member of the olnba, fto. *o. ho. He waa. in ahort, of that oftdaaorlbed aet 
before whom all minor beaux sinK into insigniflcance, or among whom they eventually 
obtain a aubaltem ffrade, by a aaorifioe of a due portion of their fortune.**— ^{macJU 
Revisited. 



Bt the soul of the great Male- 
branche, who made " A Search after 
Truth," and discovered everything 
beautiful except thatwhichhe searched 
for ; — ^by the soul of the great Male- 
branche, whom Bishop Berkeley found 
Sttfiering under an inflammation in 
the lungs, and very obligingly talked 
to death, — an instance of conversa- 
tional powers worthy the envious 
emulation of all great metaphysicians 
and aiguers; — by the soul of that 
illustrious man, it is amazing to us 
what a number of truths there are 
broken up into little fragments, and 
scattered here and there through the 
world. What a magnificent museum 
a man might make of the precious 
minerals, if he would but go out with 
his basket under his arm, and his 
eyes about him ! We, ourselves, 
picked up, this yery day, a certain 
small piece of truth, with which we 
propose to explain to thee, fiur reader, 
a sinister turn in the fortunes of Paul. ' 

No. 22. 



"Wherever," says a living sage, 
"you see dignity, you may be sure 
there is expense requisite to support 
it."* So was it with Paul. Ayoung 
gentleman who was heir-presumptive 
to the Mug, and who enjoyed a hand- 
some person with a cultivated mind, 
was necessarily of a certain station of 
society, and an object of respect in the 
eyes of the manoeuvring mammas of 
the vicinity of Thames Court. Many 
were the parties of pleasure to Dept- 
ford and Greenwich which Paul found 
himself compelled to attend; and we 
need not refer our readers to novels 
upon fifcshionable life, to inform them 
that, in good society, the geaUemen 
always pay for the ladiee ! Nor was 
this all the expense to which his expec- 
tations exposed him. A gentleman 
could scarcely attend these elegant 
festivities without devoting some 
little attention to his dress; and a 



* <« Popular Fallaoiea.'* 



18 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



fi^UooaUe tailor :pl«iyB the dMceinth 
.one's yearly «Ilo«iiice I 

We, who reii4e, be it kaomi to yoa, 
leMer, an Littk Bctttny^ «re ficrt veiy 
well ao^ttaiBied with Uie anumem of 
the bettor dlAnsBfaL St. JttBtt's. But 
there wis one great vice mong the 
finepM^le ahoiit Tb$m» Ooavt^whioh 
we md&tw 4ouibt does not enst^Miy 
where ^he, vis., iheeefime .people were 
alwa^ iii«]i Agony tt> Beam finer tioian 
th^ weto ; and the more airo a gen- 
tleuutn or a lacbr ga^^ 'him or herself, 
the more unportant they beoame. 
Joe, the dog's-meat man, had indeed 
^t into sociely, entirely from a knack 
of saying impertinent things to every 
body ; and the smartest exclusives of 
the place, who seldom visited any one 
where there was not a ulver teapot, 
used to think Joe hada great deal in 
him becsnse he tnmdled his cart with 
his head in tiie air, and one day gave 
l^e very beadle otf the parish '' the cnt 
direct." 

Kow this desire to be so exceedingly 
fine* not only made the socie^ about 
Thames Ooust oopleaaant, but ex- 
pensiTe. Svery 0ne vied with'^ his 
neighbour; andAsthee^Nritofrivaliy 
is particnlazly strong in youtihfiil 
bosoms, we oaoi «oaroely wonder that 
it led Paid iiKto many •extnwBganees. 
*Fhe evil of all chr<ae8 that <profeflB to 
be seleot iahigfa p^y,^->*andtiieraa8oii 
Sfl obvioua: penons who have ithe 
power to bestow on another an advan- 
tage he coivets, woidd mdier sell it 
than give it; and Faal, gmdtiaUy 
ancireasing in popularity and ion, 
found himsflif, despite of his olasaioal 
education, no match lor the finished, 
or, rather, finishing geuUemen with 
whom he b^gan to «flsoohiAe. JSis 
first admiitanoeinto tiie -select cotene 
of these men of the wfnrld wasibrmed 
at the honseiof Bachelor BiU,'a person 
of great notoriety among that portion 
of the ^«few9dch«Bi!pliaticaily entitles 
itself " Flash ! " However, as it is our 
rigid intention in this work to portray 



iU lengih no epiaodUsal ehanctora 
whataoeTor, we can afford our xeadera 
but a slight and rapid idwtoh of Ba- 
chelor BilL 

This personage was of Devonahivo 
oBtraetion. JSis mother had kept the 
pleaaantest public-honse in town, and 
at her death Bill sneoeeded to her pM- 
perty and popnhoily. All the young 
ladies In the neighbourfaood -of Fid- 
dler's Jtow, where he resided, eet their 
«a)» at him : all the moat iMhionable 
priffs, or te^i^mm, aooght to get him 
into their aet; 4yad tiie meet cradc 
bUnoen in London would have given 
her ears at any time for a loving word 
from Bachelor BilL But Bill was a 
long-headed, prudent fellow, and of a 
remarkably cautious temperament. 
He avoided marriage and friendship, 
viz., he was neither plundered nor 
eomuied. Be wasa "toll, aiistoeratic 
coife, of a deviliah neat addreas, and 
very gallant, in an honest way, to tiie 
Uowena, Like most single men, being 
very much the gentleman so fiur as 
money was ceneeraed, he gKre ihem 
plenty of "feeds," aaMl from time to 
time a veiy agMeabie "Jbop." His 
" bingo *** was mneaasqitMniahle ; and 
as for kia ''stn^-naked," fit was voted 
the moat. briUiaBt tiling in nature. 
in a very short time, 1^ his btowB-ont 
•and this bachelorship,-— ibr single men 
ahvaya anive at the apes -of hofut ton 
movo'easily thanmarried,>-^he became 
the veiy glass of fiuhion ; jmd many 
were the tight^pranticeB,«von at the 
west end of tbs town, who used to 
torn back in admiration «f Baohelor 
Bill, when, >of a Sunday afternoon, he 
drove <down his varment ^ to his 
snug little box on the borders of 
Tnmham Oreen. BiU's hsupfSaieKi 
was not, however, wholly withont 
aHoy. The ladies of pleasure axe 
alwn^ so oxeessively angry when it 
man does not make love tothem, Ihat 
there is nothing they will not say 



*Bniidy. 



t GllL 



PAUL CUlVOfiD. 



k ilim? «ndl ilM tor nateoBB in 
Hbe yvaaity-^U Fkldler'fl B/om flpread 
all "tf*i">^ of iinfiwmAiid nportB 
MgmaA 9o«r JIacbelor WHL B7 4e- 
gBMB, h«««v«c^cHr, m Tadtas Iub 
flui, douMHS vilfli a proplMtio ^lyie 
iOfBacaielMr BftH» <<4flM inrtli gauw 1^ 
ddar*"— 'thiae s^orte l»agan io die 
TimciitWyaway; dadBii^vowwwamg 
nflHr ia lOio aarifiaasvaf wi^dte aga^Ua 
MoDida comfortably aaiHad for him 
4Jui*]M waold %e Baokelar Bitt«H1iiB 
Hfa. JBIarMwriBt»liava84ttaxoelkait 
.ftilliiWj -giawi laa baskaA ▼ietab to 
tiiftpaog .frofeaiicd a Wkenl tern af 
tlnaA^^S, And ia lU tha qoMmlB 
iMOiig liha blaweM <y««r araak Uov- 
eaa an a quanralaema aetl) alvagn 
iadkpMiniUi^ibeiNakeat. Altho^ 
Bis «fiMed 4a be vaiy aelacb m bk 
^om^maij, be vaa nayanfojoijallQl of bis 
^oUAMkis; aad 3iMu Miui^eiy Lob- 
kms hmmkg been wiy .^oad <to Una 
vbfl& ka -mm « little bay in a akaleUnx 
jMiaeiy be mwriablb^ aest bar a caed 
to bis Boiriea, lSh» -geod Mj, bow- 
emr» bad not <of late Teaon deserted 
bar ohiiBBiey eomer. bidaed, tihe 
Tadket af'fawhimiable ble ii»s<too maob 
lor bar nervea, and tbe invitation bad 
beeome ft cratomaiy form not ax- 
paeted to be >aeted ^>on, but net a 
whiik ii»» leflB aegvhaiy used for that 
raaaoB. As Faid bad now attamed 
bia maEteentb year, and was a &ie, 
baaidaame lad, (tbe *dame tbongbt be 
uroiild maikie an eaceUent re^resenta- 
tiYO of ibe Hug's mistress ; and that, 
for bar prot^^, a ball at Bill's bouse 
would be no bad oommeneement of 
'* life in Jjoodxm" Aooerdmgly, she 
intimated tp itbe Bacbelor a wish to 
tbat e£^, and Paul received tbe fol- 
lowing invita^iiofn from <Bill : — 

'*Mr, William Duke gives a bop 
and feed in a quiet way on Monday 
next, and Twps Mr. Paul Lobluns will 
be of tbe party. IS'.B. Gentlemen w 
expected to come in pumps." 

Wben Paul entered, be_foimd Ba^ 



aUar BiM laaiinr off iba baa to ilA 
tiBe of <'Bn>pa of BmBdy,'' wilb m 
yoaqglady to iAM»-^beeH8a aba bad 
bacBi a itNlttng vlafor-^tba Ladiaa 
Patronesses af FiddiUr^s Boir bad 
ibaogbt fcupar to babM witii m W7 
oaralier civility, 1*ba good baobater 
bad mo aottoii, as he «acpreaaad It, «f 
Boeh toAtnunSy and be«aiuad it to ba 
ohenbML amo^ tiie finest of the 
blowens, tbat ''be exipaotod «I1 who 
fciokad thefar baekatt bis bonaa voold 
behave deomt and paUto to 9«na|^ 
Jfa.Biot." fflttBuMaDaHhiaa^oonvifed 
to the todtoa wife att Hhrt ffmrianalii^ 
Tdldah :&r whiob Baehekr Bill waa ao 
remarkahia, tpfodnoed a ootoUealfeet; 
9akd Maa. Ba^ being mvw tod 4xff by 
the flash Badtelor, was mer p m nmi 
with civiMas tbe Mat of the «vanlB|[^ 

Wben tha danoa ww ended, BttL 
•vwy polity abook hands with Panl^ 
and tfiok an *aaify opportanily of in- 
trodncing him to aome of tbe meafc 
''noted flharacteni'' af ihe town. 
Among itfheBe iatas tthe smart Mr. All- 
&v, the iTifdTWMrf.ing Hewy Finish, 
'tbe many Jaek Stoobey, i^ knowing 
C^iaileB Vrywit, and -vanons othars 
^qnaV^ noted for tbeir Aatt in livhiig 
handsomely span Ijhoir own bialna* 
*apd .Ae ipeiwaiiHiB of ethar peiqnile. T^ 
say tnMib, HasSL, 'who at tbat time wm 
an boneat lad, was less cfbarmed than 
bebadanrfiimpaied by the ooDversstion 
of tdnaeobavaUaEBaf industry. Hewaa 
more pleased with the clever, though 
sd[f«uffieifint iianwrks of it gentleman 
watb :a remarkably fine bead of hair, 
and whom wie inmld more imprea- 
sively ttban the ivest introduce to our 
reader, under tbe appellation of Me. 
Bdward Pepper, generally termed 
Long Ked. As this worthy waa 
destiaed afterwards to be an intimato 
associate of 'Paul, oar madn reifionior 
attending the hop at Bachelor B^m 
is to note, as Idiel inq»ortanoe cdT the 
-eventtdeseiwes, the epoch of idie oonir 
mancement of their .acquaintanee. 

Ijong Kedand £bul happened to a^ 
c2 



20 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



oiezt to each other at sapper, and they 
eonrersed together so, amicably that 
Paal, in the hospitality of his heart, 
expressed a hope that " he should see 
Mr. Pepper at the Mug ! " 

"Mug— Mug!" repeated Pepper, 
half shutting his eyes with the air of 
a dandy about to be impertinent ; 
" Ah — the name of a chapel — ^is it not 1 
There's a sect called the Muggleto- 
nians, I think I " 

" As to that," said Paul, colouring 
St this insinuation against the Mug, 
'* Mrs. Lobkins has no more religion 
than her betters; but the Mug is a 
•yeiy excellent house, and frequented 
by the best possible company." 

''Don't doubt itr said Ned. "Re- 
member now that I was once there, 
and saw one Dummy Dunnaker — is 
not that the name ? I recollect some 
.years ago, when I first came out» that 
Dummie and I had an adventure toge- 
ther ; — ^to tell you the truth, it was 
not the sort of thing I would do now. 
But, would you bclieye it, Mr. Paul 1 
this pitiful fellow was quite rude to 
me the only time I erer met him nnce ; 
— ^that is to say, the only time I ever 
entered the Mug. I hare no notion of 
such airs in a merchant— a merchant 
of rags ! Those commercial fellows 
are getting quite insufferable ! " 

"You surprise me!" said Paul. 
*' Poor Dummie is the last man to be 
rude. He is as civil a creature as 
«ver lived." 

"Or sold a rag I" said Ned. 
" Possibly 1 Don't doubt his amiable 
qualities in the least. Pass the bingo, 
my good fellow. Stupid stuff, this 
dancing!" 

" Devilish stupid !" echoed Harry 
Finish, across the table. "Suppose 
we adjourn to Fish Lane, and rattle 
the ivories 1 What say you, Mr. 
Lobkins t" 

Afraid of the "ton's stem laugh, 
which scarce the proud philosopher 
can scorn," and not being very partial 
to dancing, Paul assented to the pro- 1 



position ; and a little party, consisting 
of Harry Finish, AUfiur, Long Ned, 
and Mr. Hookey, adjourned to Fish 
Lane, where there was a dub, oelfr- 
brated among men who live by their 
wits, at which "lush" and "baccy" 
were gratuitously sported in 'the 
most magnificent manner. Here the 
evening passed away yery delight- 
fully, and Paul went home without a 
"brad " in his pocket. 

From that time, Paul's visits to 
Fish Lane became unfortunately 
regular ; and in a very short period 
we grieve to say, Paul became that 
distinguished character — agentleman 
of three outs — " out of pocket, out 
of elbows, and out of credit" The 
only two persons whom he found 
willing to (iceommodate him with a 
dight loaji, as the advertisements 
signed X. T. have it, were Mr. Dum^ 
mie Dunnaker and Mr. Pepper, snr- 
named the Long. The latter, however, 
while he obliged the heir to the Mug, 
never condescended to enter that 
noted place of resort ; and the former, 
whenever he good-naturedly opened 
his purse-strings, did it with a hearty 
caution to shun the acquaintance of 
Long Ned. " A parson," said Dum- 
mie, " of wery dangerous morals, and 
not by no manner of means a fit 
Bociate for a young gemman of cracter 
like leetle Paull" So earnest was 
this caution, and so especially pointed 
at Long Ned, — although the company 
of Mr. Allfair or Mr. Finish might 
be said to be no less prejudicial, — 
that it is probable that stately ftstidi- 
ousness of manner, which Lord Nor< 
manby rightly observes, in one of 
his excellent novels, makes so many 
enemies in the world, and which some- 
times characterised the behaviour of 
Long Ned, especially towards the 
men of commerce, was a main reason 
why Dummie was so acutely and 
peculiarly alive to the immoralities 
of that lengthy gentleman. At the 
same time we must observe, that 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



%1: 



irfaen Paul, remembering what Pepper 
bad said reapecting faia early adyen- 
tore with Mr. Diumiker, repeated it 
to the merchant^ Dnmmie could not 
conceal a certain oonfuaion, though 
he merely remarked, with a sort of 
laoghy that it was not worth speaking 
about; and it appeared evident to 
Paul that aomethhig nnpleaaant to 
the man of rags, which was not 
shared by the unconadous Pepper, 
lurked in the reminiacenoe of their 
past acquaintance. Howbeit, the dr- 
Munatanoe glided from Paul's atten- 
tion the momoDit afterwards; and he 
paid, we are concerned to say, equally 
little heed to the cautions against 
Ifed with, which Dummie regaled 
him. 

Perhaps (for we must now direct 
a ^ance towards his domestic con- 
ceins) one great cause which droye 
Paol to Fish Lane waa the uncom- 
fortable life he led at home. For 
though Mrs. Lobkins was extremely 
lond of her proUgi, yet she was pos- 
sessed, as her customers emphati<»lly 
Temarked, "of the deyil's own tern- 
fter;" and her native coarseness 
never having been softened by those 
^pictures of gay society which had, in 
many a novel and comic fieurce, refined 
ihe temperament of the romantic 
Paul, her manner of ven^g her 
maternal reproaches was certainly not 
a little revolting to a lad of some 
delicacy of feeling. Lideed, it often 
occurred to him to leave her house 
altogether, and seek his fortunes 
alone, after the manner of the inge- 
idous Oil Bias, or the enterprising 
Boderick Bandom; and this idea, 
-though conquered and reconquered, 
gradually swelled and increased at 
his heart, even as swelleth that hairy 
ball found in the stomach of some 
auffering heifer after its decease. 
Among these projects of enterprise, 
the r^er will hereafter notice, that 
an early vision of the Green Forest 
Cave, in which Torpin was accus- 



tomed, with a friend, a ham, and a 
wife, to conceal himself flitted aoro8a< 
his mind. At this time he did not, 
perhaps, incline to the mode of life 
practised by the hero of the roads ; 
but he certainly clung not the less 
fondly to the notion of the cave. 

The melancholy flow of our hero's 
life was now, however, about to be 
diverted by an unexpected turn, and 
the crude thoughts of boyhood to 
burst, '<like Ghilan's Giant Palm," 
into the fruit of a manly resolution. 

Among the prominent features of 
Mrs. Lobkins' mind was a sovereign 
contempt for the unsuocesBfiil ; — ^the 
imprudence and ill-luck of Paul 
occasioned her as much scorn as com- 
passion. And when, for the third 
time within a week, he stood, with a 
rueful visage and with vacant pockets, 
by the dame's great chair, requesting 
an additional supply, the tides of her 
wrath swelled into overflow. 

"Look you, my kinchin cove," 
said she, — and in order to give pecu'^ 
liar dignity to her aspect, dhe put on 
while she spoke a huge pair of tin 
spectacles,— " if so be. as how you 
goes for to think as how I shall go 
for to supply your wicious necessities, 
you will find yourself planted in 
Queer Street Blow me tight,, if I 
gives you another mag." 

*' But I owe Long Ked a guinea^" 
tudd Paul; ''and Dummie Dunnaker 
lent me three crowns. It ill becomes 
your heir apparent, my dear dame» 
to. fight shy of his debts of honour." 
^. ''Taradididdle, don't think for to 
wheedle me with your debts and your 
honour," sud the dame in a passion. 
"Long Ned is as long in the forks 
(fingers) as he is in the back : may 
Old Hany fly ofiT with him! And as 
for Dummie Dunnaker, I wonders 
how you, brought up such a swell, 
and blest with the weiy best of hedi- 
cations, can think of putting up with 
such wulgar sedates ! I tells you 
what, Paul, you'll please to break 



PAUL ^SJfWSD. 



iritk Hhaat, smaok and alt <nitf% or 
deirlL a brad y <m 'U evei 9«t ftott Peg 
lAbkiiiB.'' So eti,yimg,iSke «ld IimIt^ 
tamed sound is Her chair, and helpadf 
liaRMBlf to a pi|>o of tobacea 

Paai wallop twico up* aad doiim 
iiie apavlmeiiifc, a>d sfc laat st«ppod! 
•ppoflitetfae duoe'a oliaiv: lie was a 
7«atk of higli s^xit, aiiA thoo^ he 
«B8 itttn-hAttrted, aad bad a lore fi>r 
Mrs. Lobklbfl, i^ticfai hat aar»' aaid 
aflbctlan ftnr him irall daaerred, 7«t 
h» nii Ton^ ia. tentper, aadi not 
moHtmlAf fOmooHh in «pc«vk : 16. is 
tni»1dittb Ms. h«a^ Biaoto hiA aftep^ 
mida, whaMNstr h» had aaad angr 
ihing «» aaaogr Mis; Lohkiin : out 
h& waa ainnigra tte fiist io teak a 
MooitciliaitioR^ MrirafmiFOMb p»»i> 
dnee oold M^oot, and sosfoir fiiv tba 
part ia nut abraya efteaaioaa in 
anmdi^g tile fainm, Paid tken^ 
ptriTdd «p> yMi. m» TsaAtr of hia 
genteel edaoalioa^ and the Mandidiip 
of Long- Fed (who went ta Biniiriagh, 
and woM 9&m9 oloolDad stosfcii^ga^ 
•toppod' «fipeRif» i» Mi«. i^bkiB^ 
dair^aad aaMmdtkgtaalaolBtaBiijc^ 

<^liF. Pappof^ «aad&ni> aa^v vai^ 
propadjf that 1 aiiail hayo monof t» 
■appovt myaaif like » g«jitlaniaiL<: and 
if yon won't gifs ilr ma^ I am deto»- 
aolHec^ with many thanka for your 
past &yours, to throw n^iaelf o&tha 
tiarid, and aaek my fbrtnaa.^ 

1i Paal waafof n» oily and bluad 
iMnper, dame TtaagBO^ LoUdna, it 
kaa bean aeeoy had no adyantega on 
iba* 0eoiie>^^-we dara say the roadar 
luiaobaartad that nothltaig so enrages 
pWMma on whom one dependaaaaay 
aK p ra a ecd detemiaatloa of aaeking 
indepenleace. Qaaing, Ibevelbre^ for 
ana moment at the open bat resolute 
aamtonaneo ol Pkral, while all the 
Mood ef her reina aeamad gathering 
In lire' and scarlet to her enlargiiig 
akaaka^ Dame Lobkins^aaid-- 

«ifliaka> Master Pride^i»dads I 
aad: yanr [fortune ymtrself, will yo«i? 
1!!ya' oomaa of my bnnging yoa vp, 



and lettittg yon eat the bread of 
kHeoeas and efaanly, yon toad of a 
thoaaand! Take tha« and b* d—^d 
to yon I " aad, suiting the aatian to 
the WQordy the tobo wikieh she had 
withd^wn from her months in order 
to nMer her geaitle rebake, whiaaed 
thnPBgh the air, graaed Flwlfs :oheek, 
and United it» eaathly eaieeriby 
oeadng in leiolani eontaet wkh the 
right eye of DnmBria I>nnnaker, -who 
at that exact moment entered the 
room. 

Pan! had wiiaeoi £» a moment to 
atoid the mi8n^>^-4tt tiiO' next ka 
stood petfec% npr^t; hia eheeka 
glowed^ his okest swefled; and the 
entranee ^f Itaimie Danasktr who 
was thus made the spectator of the 
aAont he had reeled, stirred his 
blood mio a deeper anger and a mora 
bitter sell^haaailiatian>«-all hin toa> 
mer rasoi«tio«e< of depavtme-'-all the 
hakl werd% the eoeraa aQosienfl^ the 
pm»tf«al insidta he had at any time 
reeei^eed, rushed i^on him at oook 
Ee mavely oast one looit^ at ttm old 
wemaa, whose rage was am Imlf 
Bttbaidnd^ and tnaned slovKly and ift 
silmioetathedDen 

^ere< la oft^ something alusming 
in an oeeumemie, merely beoaaae it ia 
tha« wMch we least ei^eet: the 
aetata Mns^ Lobkitts/ remembering 
the hardy temper and fiery paaaiona 
of Pl»d; had expected seme burst ef 
mge^ some yehement repfy ; and wken 
she eaaght nith one wanderiQg eye 
his parting look, and saw him turn 
ao< passively and mutely ta^ tiie door, 
k«* heart misgave her, she mised her- 
self from her dialr, and' made towards 
Uttk Unhappily fbr her ohanee of 
recenoilfalion^ riie had lAai di^ 
quaffed more eopiously of tiie boi^ 
than usual, and the signs of intoad- 
eation yi^ble in her uncertain gait, 
her meainngless eye, her yacant lees^ 
hw rul^ cheek, all inspired Pttid 
with feelings which, at the moment, 
eon7rortad> resentment into something 



PAUL CLIFFOBD. 



reaj maotLWbe mwt&iKL H« vpnag' 
fnm Imv gBMp to tlie threskoUL 
"Whan be jon goings T^^ inp ot 
tkeiRxridr cned the dune. << Qet 
in witik jimv and say no more on the 
maiMer; he a bob-oulV— drop the 
]Riliifl8,aBd70itBhail hare the blut!" 

But Fteat heeded Bo^thkiaiitatioa. 

«I wUl eat the beead of idieiMM 
aad okaority ao longer/' said he> 
solkBly. '^Qood by.^-aad if QTer I 
eaa pay you what i h»re coet you» 
IwiU!" 

He tuned away as he apeke; aad 
tiie dsme^ kindling witix resentment 
at his nnseeialy retua to her pro^ 
fared kkufaMMB, hallooed after him, 
aad hade that dark-^olonrad gentle- 
Bian wlio keepa the fire^igkt beloiv, 
go aloiig'with him. 

Swelling with anger^ piide, ihamej 
and » lialf-j<^yowi fMling of eraanci* 
patad iBdependeiMe) Paul walked on 
he knew not whither, with hia head 
in the air, and hia 1^ manihalMng 
tiMmaelfes into a military gait of 
He had not pvoeeeded ihr, 
he heard hia name aitered 
bekind him,--->he tamed, and saw the 
raefttl &oe of Dummie Dannahen. 

Yery inofimsiyely hjMi tiiat raspeot^ 
able person been employed during 
tihe last part of the scene we have 
doambed> in caressing his afiicted 
eye, and muttering phttesophical 
obseivationB on the daa^ inenrred 
l^ all those who are acquainted with 
IndieB of a choleric tempemment : 
iHien Mn. Lobkins, tomiBg roond 
alter PaaFs departure, and seeing^ the 
piMfnl person of that Dummie Dnn^ 
naker, whose name she remembered 
Pianl had mentioned in his opening 
8peeoh> and whom, therefore, with an 
^logical confiislon of ideas, she con- 
aidmd a party in the late dispute, 
exhausted upon him aU that rage 
whioh it was necessary for her oomfort 
that die should unbnrthen somewhere. 

She seized the little man by the 
collar— the tenderest of all places in 



with regard to the w^fs of lift, and 
giving him a ^\vm, yMsh took eflfhet 
on his other and hitherto undamaged 
eye, eried out» *< I '11 teaoh you, yon 
bleodrSQcker {i, «. parasite), to spunge 
upon those as has espeetat&ona 1 III 
teaeh you to ooasn the heir of the 
Httg» you saiveHing, wh^fitoed 
g^Mst of a &rthing rushlight f Whatl 
you 11 lend my Paul three crowns^ 
wiH you; when yon knows as how 
yon told me yon oould not pay me a 
pitiAil tiaiyl Oh, you 're a queer one 
I warrants; but you won't queer 
lAurgeiy Lohhins. Ont of my ken^ 
you cur of the maoge i-^^eui of my 
ken; and if ewes I daps my sees on 
you again, or if ever I knows as how 
you makea a flat of my Paul, blow me 
tighl^ but. Ill weave you a hempen 
coUnr: 111 hang^ you/ you dog, I 
will. Whatl you will answer, me^ 
will yon WO yon Tiper, budge^ and 
begone!'^ 

It was in vain that Dummie pnv 
tested his innocence^ A mlent coup 
depi0d broke oif all ftirtber parhnce. 
He made< a clear house <^ the Mug; 
and the landlady thereof tottering 
back to her eftbow^dudr, sought out 
another pipe, and, like all imaginatlye 
personsn^ien the woild gees wvong 
with them, conaoied herself for ti)e 
absent of realitile» bg^ th« ereations 
of smoke. 

Meanwhile, Dummie Dunnakep, 
muttering and murmuring bitter fim- 
cies, overtook Pbul, and aecuaed that 
youth of having been the occasion of 
the injuries he had just undergone^ 
Paul was not at titiat moment in the 
humour beet adapted for ik^ patient 
bearing of aocUBafeionS'; he anawered 
Mr. Dunnaker veiy shortly ; and that 
respectable individual, still smarting 
under his bnnse8> replied with equal 
tartness. Words grew high> and at 
length, Pan]» desirous of oonoluding 
the conference^ denohed hia fist^ and 
told the redoubted Dummie that he 



a* 



PAUL CLIFFORD, 



vonld " knoek him down." There is 
something peculiarly harsh and stun- 
ning in those three hard, wirej, sturd j, 
stubborn monoiE^ilables. Their veiy 
sound makes you double your fist — 
if you are a hero; or your pace — ^if 
you are a peaceable man. Th^ pro- 
duced an instant effect upon Dunmie 
Dunnaker, aided as they were by the 
efifect of an athletic and youthful 
figure, already fast approaching to the 
height of six feet, — a flushed cheek, 
and an eye that bespoke both passion 
and resolution. The rag-merchant's 
Toice sunk at once, and with the 
countenance of a wronged Cassius he 
whimpered forth, — 

'< Knoek me down !-*0 leetle Paul, 
TOt Ticked yhids are those! Yotl 
^ Dummie. Dunnaker as h w dandled 
you on his knee mony's a time and 
oft ! Yy, the core's art is as ard as 
junk, uid as proud as a gardener^s 
dog Tith a nosegay tied to his tail." 
TMs pathetic remonstrance softened 
Firol's anger. 

« Well, Dummie," said he, laughing, 
" I did not mean to hurt you, and 
there's an end of it; and I am veiy 
sorry for the dame's ill conduct ; and 
BO I wish you a good morning." 

'^ Yy, rere be you trotting to, leetle 
Paull" said Dummie, grasping him 
by the tail of the coat. 

"The deuce a bit I know," an- 
swered our hero ; ** but I think I shall 
drop a call on Long Ked." 

"Arast there!" said Dummie, 
iq^eaking under his breath ; if so be 
as yon ron't blab, 1 11 tell you a bit of 
a secret. I heered as ow Long Ned 
started for Hampshire this werry 
morning on a toby consam !"* 

<'Hal" said Paul, ''then hangme 
if I know what to do ! " As he uttered 
these wordsy a more thorough sense 
of his destitution (if he persevered in 
leaying the Mug) than he had hitherto 
felt rushed upon him ; for Paul had 



« Hif hw»7 expedition. 



designed for a while to throw himself 
on the hospitality of his Patagonian 
friend, and now that he found that 
friend was absent from London, and 
on so dangerous an expedition, he 
was a little puzzled what to do with 
that treasure of intellect and wisdom 
which he carried about upon his l^s.- 
Already he had acquired sufficient 
penetration (for Charles Tiywit and 
Harry Finish were excellent masters 
for initiating a man into the know- 
ledge of the world) to perceive that a 
person, however admirable may be 
his qualities, does not readily find a 
welcome without a penny in his 
pocket. Li the neighbourhood of 
Thames Court he had, indeed, many, 
acquaintances ; but the fineness of his 
language, acquired from his education, 
and the elegance of his air, in which 
he attempted to blend, in happy 
association, the gallant effirontery of 
Mr. Long Ned with the graceful neg- 
ligence of Mr. Augustus Tomlinson, 
had made him many enemies among 
those acquaintances ; and he was not 
willing, — so great was our hero's 
pride,— to throw himself on the 
chance of their welcome, or to pub- 
lish, as it were, his exiled and crest- 
fidlen state. As for those boon 
companions who had assisted him in 
making] a wilderness of his pockets, 
he had already found, that that was 
the only species of assistance which 
they were willing to render him : in 
a word, he could not for the life of 
him coigecture in what quarter he 
should find the benefits of bed and 
board. While he stood with his 
finger to his lip, undecided and 
musing, but fully resolved at least on 
one thing — not to return to the 
Mug, — little Dummie, who was a 
good-natured fellow at the bottom, 
peered up in his face, and said, " Yy, 
Paul, my kid, you looks down in the 
chops : cheer up, care killed a cat ! " 
Observing that this appropriate and 
encouraging fact of natural histoiy 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



25 



did not lessen the cloud upon PaaVs 
brow, the acute Dummie Dimnaker 
proceeded at once to the grand pa- 
nacea for all eyils, in his own profound 
esUmation. 

** Paul, my ben cull," said he, with 
a knowing wink, and nudging the 
young gentleman in the left side, 
''▼ot do you say to a drop o' blue 
mini or, as you likes to be comsh 
(genteel), I doesn't care if I sports 
yon a glass of port ! " While Dunnaker 
was uttering this invitation, a sudden 
reminiscence flashed across Paul : he 
bethought him at once of Mac Graw- 
ler; and he resolyed forthwith to 
repair to the abode of that illustrious 
sage, and petition at least for accom- 
modation for the approaching night. 
So soon as he had come to this deter- 
miuation, he shook off the grasp of 
the amiable Dummie, and refusing, 
with many thanks, his j hospitable 
invitation, requested him to abstract 
from the dame's house, and lodge 
within his own, until called for, such 
articles of linen and clothing as be- 
longed to Paul, and could easily be 
Iiud hold of, during one of the matron's 
evening sieaUis, by the shrewd Dun- 
naker. The merchant promised that 
the eommlBsion should be speedily 
executed; and Paul, shaking hands 
with him, proceeded to the mansion 
of Mac Qrawler. 

We must now go back somewhat 
in the natural course of our narrative, 
and observe, that among the muior 
causes which had conspired with the 
great one of gambling to bring our 
excellent Paul to his present situation, 
was his intimacy with Mac Grawler; 
for when Paul's increasing years and 
coving habits had put an end to the 
sage's instructions, there was thereby 
iopped off from the preceptor^sfinances 
the weekly sum of two shillings and 
i^pence, as well as the freedom of 
the dame's cellar and larder ; and as, 
in the reaction of feeling, and the 
perverse course of human affiurs. 



people generally repent the most of 
those actions once the most ardently 
incurred; so poor Mrs. Lobkins, 
imagining that Paul's irregularities 
were entirely owing to the knowledge 
he had acquired from Mac Growler's 
instructions, grievously upbraided 
herself for her former folly, in seek- 
ing for a superior education for her 
proUgS; nay, she even vented upon 
the sacred head of Mac Grawler him- 
self her dissatisfiiction at the results 
of his instructions. In like manner, 
when a man who can spell comes to 
be hanged, the anti-educationists ac- 
cuse the spelling-book of his murder. 
High words between the admirer of 
ignorant innocence and the propa- 
gator of intellectual science ensued, 
which ended in Mac Grawler's final 
expulsion from the Mug. 

There are some young gentlemen 
of the present day addicted to the 
adoption of Lord Byron's poetry> with 
the alteration of new rhymes, who 
are pleased graciously to inform us, 
that they are bom to be the roin of 
all those who love them : an inte- 
resting fact, doubtless, but which they 
might as well keep to themselves. 
It would seem, by the contents of 
this chapter, as if the. same misfortune 
were destined to Paul. The exile of 
Mac Grawler, — the insults offered to ' 
Dummie Dunnaker, — alike occasioned 
by him, appear to sanction that 
opinion. Unfortunately, though Paul 
was a poet, he was not much of a 
sentimentaUst ; and he has never 
given us the edifying ravings of his 
remorse on those subjects. But Mac 
Grawler, like Dunnaker, was resolved 
that our hero should perceive the 
curse of his fatality; and as he still 
retained some influence over the mind 
of his quondam pupil, his accusations 
against Paul, as tho origin of his 
banishment, were attended with a 
greater success than were the com- 
plaints of Dummie Dunnaker on a 
similar calamity. Paul, who, like 



PAUL CLIFFOBD. 



most people who are good fbr nothing, 
had an excellent heart, was exceed- 
ingly grieved at Mae &rawler'» ba- 
nishment on his acconnt : and he 
endeavoured to atone for it by saeh 
peoaniaay consolations as he was 
enabled to ofBear, These Mae Growler 
(purely, we nui^ suppose, from a 
benevolent desire to lessen the boy's 
vemorae) sampled not to. accept ; and 
thus, so similar often are the eflfeets 
of virtue and of vioe» the exemplary 
Mac Crawler conspired with the nn- 
principled Long Hedand the heartless 
Henry Finish, in producing tiiot un- 
enviable state of vacuity which now 
saddened over the pockets of Paul; 

As our hero was slowly walking 
towards the sage's abode, depending^ 
on his gratitude and friendshipfor a 
temporary shelter, one of those lights 
ning flashes of thought which often 
illumine the profoundest abyss of 
affiiction darted across his mind. 



BecaBing' the isnge of ^tfae critic, he 
remembered that he had seen . tiiat 
ornament of ** The Asinsram" receive 
sundry* sums- for h» arUoeal lucu- 
brations. 

'' Why," said Paul, sei^g on that 
foot, and stopping short in tiba- street, 
'' why should I not turn critic myself," 

The* only person to whom one ever 
puts a qnestioa with a toleiable eer- 
tain<^ of zeoeiviD^ a satia&etory 
answer is one's seli The moment 
Paul started tlos-himisDus-saggaation, 
it appeared to him that he had dis- 
covered the mines of PotosL Burning 
with impatienoe ta discuss witfi the 
great Mac G^wler the foasUNJ^ of 
his project, h» qnidfisned his. piise 
almost into a run, and in a -yoj fow 
minutes, hwriag only overthiowai one 
chimney-sweeper and twoapplswomen 
1^ Uie wagr, h« aRsv«d ok, tJbe^ nge's 
door. 



CHAPTEE V. 



' Ye realms yet unreveal'd to human sight ! 
Ye canes athwart the hapless bands that wxlte ! 
Ye critfe ohiefa— pwnnit me to relate 
TJUt mjfltto wondflEB of your silent state ! " 



FoKFumB had smiled upon: Mr. Mac 
Grawler since- he first undertook the 
tuition of Mrs; Lobkins' protSgi, He 
now inhabited a second-floor, and de- 
fied the sheriff and his evil spirits. It 
was at the dusk of evening that Paul 
found him at home and alone* 

Before the mighty man stood a pot 
of London porter ; a candle, with an 
unregarded irick, shed it& solitary 
light upon his labours; and an infont 
eat played sportively at his leaimed 
feet, beguiling the weary moments 
with the remnants of the spiral cap 



TiBOiL» JBn, h. vi. 

wherewith, instead of laurel^ tbe critio 
had hitherto nig^y adorned- his 
brows. 

So aeon as Mbo Qra^r, plereing 
through the gloomy mist which hung 
about the, chambet^, pepe«^red> the per^ 
sen of the intmder, a frown aetUed 
upon his brow; 

'' Hbve I not iMf yon> youngster ! ** 
he growled, ** never to enter a gentto^ 
man's room wiUkout knocking? I 
t^l you,, sir, that manners are no less 
essential to human hapless than 
virtue; wherefore> never disturb a 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



n 



genilflniaii in his »roaiiioD% and sit 
jODfwif down wiUkoat nolostiB^ tb% 

FmiI, -who knew thatt his reepeeted 
tutor didiked anj one to trace the 
aonroe of ib» wenderM q>irit which 
he infnsed into hia critical oompo- 
■itioBs, aActad not to penseive the 
pewtor lEKppoerane, and with many 
apologies Ibr his want of prepaiatoiy 
pcditoDoaSy seated himself as directed. 
It waal^en that theiblkwing edil^ing 
eonTersatfon ensued. 

'' The aofdents," quoth Fan!, ''were 
▼«I7 great men, Mr. Mae G^rawler." 

"Thaj were so, sir/'* retnmed the 
erilie; "wo make it » rale in Our 
fcoftasion te aarart that fact I * 

'^Bnl^ sir/ said Pan^ ''they wen 
wMBg now and then."* 

''Kover, Ignoramoa; ne^er!" 

"They praised poTertfy, Mr. Mae 
Gntwler !" said Paul, with asigh. 

^'Henl" <pioth 1^0 Clitic, a littie 
staggered, but presently recorering his 
eharactoristie aovmen, he observed^ — 

"It is true, Paul; but that was the 
poverty of oAer people.** 

There was a sight pause. " Criti- 
eian^" renewed Pianl, "must be a 
most difficidt art.*' 

" A-hem ! And what art is there, 
riT, that is not difficult— at least, to 
become master of V' 

"True," ragbed Paul ; "or dse " 

" Or else what, boy 1" repeated Mr. 
Mac Grawler, seeing that Paul hesi- 
tated, either from fear of his superior 
knowledge, as tide critic's yaaity sug^ 
ge8ted> or from {whtA wa^ equally 
likely) want of a word to express his 
meaning* 

"Why, I was thinkings sir," said 
Paul, with that desperato courage 
which gires a distinct and loud into- 
nation to the voice of all who set, or 
think they set, their ftkte upon a cast: 
"I was thinking that I should like to 
become a eritic myself ! " 

«W— h— e— w!" whistled Mac 
Grawler, elevating his ^ye-brows;| 



"w^" h e w ! great ends haveooms 
of less beginnings ! " 

Bneouraging as this assertion was^ 
oeming as it did from the lips of so 
great a man and so great a critic^ at 
the very moment too when notfaiag 
short of an anathema agatnat ano^ 
gance and presumption was expeeted 
to issue ftom those portals of wi8» 
dom: yet, such is the iUlacy of all 
human hopes, that Paul's of a sorety 
would have been a| little less 'elitody 
had he, at the same time his ean 
drank in the balm of these gi»> 
cious words, been able to have dived 
into the souree wh^ice they ema- 
nated. 

" Know thyself ! " was apreeeptthe 
sage Mac Grawler had endeavoured to 
obey : consequently the resnlt of hia 
obedience wns, tiiat even by himself 
he was better known than trusted. 
Whatever he might appear to othen^ 
he had in reality no vain fluth in the 
infallibility of his own talents and 
resources ; as well might a butoher 
deem himself a pwfect anatomist 
from the frequent amputatien of legs 
of mntten, as the critic of " The Asi^ 
menm" have laid "the flattering 
unction to his soul," that he waa 
really skilled in the ait of criticism^ 
or even acquainted with one of its 
commonest rules, because he could 
with aU speed cut up and diqointany 
work, from the smallest to ihe great- 
est^ from the most superficial to the 
most superior ; and thus it was that 
he never had the want of candour to 
deceive hUnadf as to his own talents. 
Paul's wish, therefore, was no sooner 
expressed, than a vague but golden 
scheme of ftiture profit illumed the 
brain of Mac Grawler :*-in a word, he 
resolved that Paul should henc^p- 
ward share the labour of his critiqnee; 
and that he, Mac Grawler, should re- 
ceive the whole profits in return for 
the honour thereby conferred on his 
coacyutor. 

Looking, therefore, at our h^o 



28 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



with a benignant air, Mr. Mac Graw- 
ler thus continued : — 

"Yes, I repeat, — ^great ends have 
come from less beginnings! — Rome 
was not built in a day, — and I, Paul, 
I myself was not always the editor of 
*The Asinnum/ You say wisely, cri- 
ticism is a great science->a very great 
science, and it may be divided into 
three branches; viz. 'to tickle, to 
slash, and to plaster.' In each of 
these three, I believe without vanity, 
I am a profound adept ! I will initi- 
ate you into all. Your labours shall 
begin this very evening. I have three 
works on my table, they must be des- 
patched by to-morrow night ; I will 
take the most arduous, I abandon to 
you the others. The three consist of 
a Romance, an Epic in twelve books, 
and an Inquiry into the Human Mind, 
in three volumes ; I, Paul, will tickle 
the Romance, you this very evening 
shall plaster the Epic and slash the 
Inquiry ! " 

" Heavens, Mr. Mac Grawler ! ** cried 
Paul, in consternation, ** what do you 
meani I should never be able to 
read an epic in twelve books, and I 
should fall asleep in the first page of 
the Inquiry. No, no, leave me the 
romance, and take the other two 
under your own protection ! " 

Although great genius is always 
benevolent, Mr. Mac Grawler could 
not restrain a smile of inefiable 
contempt at the simplicity of his 
pupil. 

" Know, young gentleman,** said he 
solemnly, " that the romance in ques- 
tion must be tickled ; it is not given 
to raw beginners to conquer that 
great mystery of our science.*' 

" Before we proceed fiurther, explain 
the words of the art," said Paul, impa- 
tiently. 

" Bsten, then,** rejoined Mac Graw- 
ler ; and as he spoke the candle cast 
jan awfiil glimmering pn his counte- 
nance, ** To sUsh is, speaking gram- 
matically, to employ the accusative. 



or accusing case ; you must cut up 
your book right and left, top and 
bottom, root and branch. To plaster 
a book, is to employ the dative, or 
giving case, and you must bestow on 
the work all the superlatives in the 
language ; you must lay on your praise 
thick and thin, and not leave a cre- 
vice untrowelled. But to tickle, sir, 
is a comprehensive word, and it com- 
prises all the infinite varieties that 
fill the interval between slashing and 
plastering. This is the nicety of the 
art, and you can only acquire it by 
practice; a few examples will suffice 
to give you an idea of its delicacy. 

" We will begin with the encourage 
ing tickle. ' Although this work is 
full of &ults ; though the charact^s 
are unnatural, the plot utterly improp 
bable, the thoughts hackneyed, and 
the style ungrammatical ; yet we 
would by no means discourage the 
author firom proceeding; and in the 
meanwhile we confidently recommend 
his work to the attention of the 
reading public* 

" Take, now, the advising tickle. 

" * There is a good deal of merit in 
these little volumes, although we must 
regret the evident haste in which they 
were written. The author might do 
better — ^we recommend him a study of 
the best writers,* — ^then conclude by a 
Latin quotation, which you may take 
from one of the mottoes in the Spec- 
tcUor, 

" Now, young gentleman, for a spe- 
cimen of the metaphorical tickle. 

** * We beg this poetical aspirant to 
remember the fikte of Pyrenieus, who, 
attempting to pursue the Muses, for- 
got that he had not the wings of the 
goddesses, flung himself from the 
loftiest ascent he could reach, and 
perished.* 

** This you see, Paul, is a loftier and 
more erudite sort of tickle, and may 
be reserved for one of the Quarterly 
Reviews. Never throw away a simile 
unnecessarily. 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



29 



' ** Now for a sample of the fitoetions 
tickle. 

** * Mr. — has obtained a con- 
siderable reputation ! Some fine 
ladies think him a great philoso- 
pher, and he has been praised in 
our hearing by some Cambridge 
■Fellows, for his knowledge of fikshion- 
aUe society.' 

"For this sort of tickle we gene- 
rally use the dullest of our tribe, and 
I hare selected the foregoing example 
from the criticisms of a distingaished 
writer in ' The Asinseum/ whom we 
call, par excellence, the Ass. 

"There is a variety of other tickles; 
the fioniliar, the yulgar, the polite, 
the good-natured, the bitter : but in 
general all tickles may be supposed to 
signify, howeyer disguised, one or 
other of these meanings:*-' This book 
would be exceedingly good if it were 
not exoeediagly bad;' — or, 'This book 
would be exceedingly bad if it were 
not exceediogly good.' 

",You have now, Paul, a general 
idea of the superior art required by 
the tickle?" 

Our hero signified his assent by a 
sort of hysterical sound between a 
laugh and a groan. Mac Grawler con- 
tinued : — 

" There is another grand difficulty 
attendant on this class of criticism, — 
it is generally requisite to read a few 
pages of the work ; because we seldom 
tickle without extracting, and it re- 
quires some judgment to make the 
context agree with the extract; but it 
is not often necessary to extract when 
you slash or when you plaster ; when 
you slash, it is better in general to 
conclude with-— 

" 'After what we have said, it is un- 
necessary to add that we cannot offend 
the taste of our readers by any quota- 
tion from this execrable trash.' And 
when you plaster, you may wind up 
with,** We regret that our limits will 
not allow us to give any extracts from 
this wonderful and unrivalled work. 



We must refer our readers to the boo)c 
itself.' 

"And now, sir, I think I have 
given you a sufficient outline of the 
noble science of Scaliger and Mae 
Grawler. Doubtless you are recon- 
ciled to the task I have allotted you ; 
and while I tickle the Bomance, you 
will slash the Inquiry and pUister the 
Bpicr 

"I will do my best, sir !" said Paul, 
with that modest yet noble simplicity 
which becomes the virtuously ambi- 
tious:— and Mac Grawler forthwith 
gave him pen and paper, and set him 
down to his undertaking. 

He had the good fortune to please 
Mac Grawler, who, after having made 
a few corrections in style, dedued he 
evinced a peculiar genius in that 
branch of composition. And then it 
was that Paul, made conceited by 
praise, said, looking contemptuously 
in the face of his preceptor, and 
swinging lus legs to and fro, — 
"And what, sir, shall I receive for 
the plastered Epic and the slashed 
Inquiry ? " As the fiice of the school- 
boy who, when guessing, as he thinks 
rightly, at the meaning of some mys- 
terious word in Cornelius Nepos, re- 
ceiveth not the sugared epithet of 
praise, but a sudden stroke across the 
OS humerwee* even so, blank, puz- 
zled, and thunder-stricken, waxed the 
&ce of Mr. Mac Grawler, at the abrupt 
and astounding audacity of Paul 

" Beceive I " he repeated, " receive I 
— Why, you impudent, ungrateful 
puppy, would you steal the bread 
from your old master] If I can obtain 
for your crude articles an admission 
into the illustrious pages of ' The 
Asinseum,' will you not be sufficiently 
paid, sir, by the honour ? Answer me 
that. Another man,. young gentle- 
man, would have chiurged you a pre- 
mium for his instructions ; — and here 
have I, in one lesson, imparted to you 



* Face or shoulders. 



u 



F±lJh CUDFFOBD. 



sH ihemf^beaoM of iktd waeaeit, wd 
for nothing ! And you talk to me <if 
•'wweirer— 'racerro!* Yomg gen- 
tlflman, m Hut inorda of ikeimmiaM 
htdd,nmaa\dm lief Tea Ittd ta&ed 
tomeofifttilMmel"' 

*'lu fine, tfaea, Mr.lCfteOrawlec, I 
fihall get ua&jaag te my traublel " 
flftid Paul. 

" To be sure not, sir; the ver^tert 
iraiter xa 'TPJie .Aflsun 
thme BhillmgB aa/jtflklfti'' JkhoMt 
«Mve than iie teer^w, 4m 
sniglvt iMive «dded ; ^urht 
for nobody sbmdd neodve AoAing 

'' Then, sic," <cpMtli 4be mflMeiiBiy 
f^ted ^tee^, iadiafAng, fceMdced 
intii one kiek, ^€be «Kt» tiie i^, mad 
the in^my 4o the «tiMr «nd of tiie 
roem ; "" THton, «ir, yon nay aU go ie 
4ihe devil !" 

We do nol, O gHitte readers seek 
to excuse this jhas^^aatheiiia :«<-*«the 
Inbits ef childhood will sometimes 
break forth despite ef the after idese- 
ings of edncatioQ. And we set a»taip 
BmiI for thine imitation as thact modal 
^ Txrtae and of wisdom iriUwh 
we design thee t* idiMoror an Mac 
'€krawl€r. 

' When that ^UMt mitie i^eroeived 
Paul had risen and was Betreatingin 
'h%h dndgeom towads the ^ooc, he 
Tose ,8380, and i«p«ftting f^nPe last 
w^rds, B8id,^'aoitol^devUr J^ot 
BO quick, young 'gsMsimxkf'^ fae i m a 
2ente,— ^ingooditime. Whottiiongh 
I did, astonii^ied 9kt your ^wemature 
request, say that -yoa Avnld xeceive 
nothing ; yet my ^eat lore for you 
imay induce me ito be^tk myself on 
your 'behalf. ' The AsiMnim,' it is 
true, only g^s Htnee flhiliings an 
ardole an geneval ; but I-mai its editor, 
and will inteicede with the pr/ipnetors 
tm your 'belalf. Tes-^yes. I will see 
yrhki is to be done. Btop « bit, my 
boy." 

Paul, though iteiy hrasoible, was 
easilypacifLed: her fifl^p-^-^*^ hiinaAlf n-nH 
taking Mac Giawler's hand, said, — 



e f or s^ iwtttteiiee, my 
dear sir ; but, to tell you the hniflet 
trsth/ 1 am inny low in the worid just 
at tpreamt, aiad mjosA get menoy fa. 
scne may or another : in short, I must 
etther ^iidL .po^eto or wirite (not jpEfr* 
tutmH^ for ' 9^e AsintMan/ " 

Jjid, ivithont Itrtiier pmeliaiiBaxsi^ 
Paul related his present cmmmektmoM 
to^e'critic; dedarediiis'detensina- 
tisn oiot tb9 return to the Mug; and 
rogmented, at leMt, Arem ^khe idamA- 
Bh^ of his old piraoepior ihB aceaaa- 
iBfodation of ahelter for thstmgfatb 

Mac Gnmder was ezeeediBgly di»- 
omcertedat hearing ao bad an aeoonnt 
of Mb piq>ir« tfintmces 418 WfiH j« psoe* 
peels ; for ^ had seeMtlyintoaded to 
liegate hnsself that «veiBi|g with a 
bowl of puBch, to> wideh he puipoaed 
thatPjidl'shoaULipay^ bntMheksnw 
the qnidowas of pasrte posaessad fay 
the young gentleman, aa^dso the|;ieaA 
affMstion entertained for Idm by Mrs. 
Lobkins, who, in aU proM}illty, wonld 
soHcxt his return ^e neatt day, he 
thought it sot unlikely iiuit Panl 
would enjoy the same good Itortaneas 
that pcei^ding over his f eiiBe oanpa- 
nion, which, though it had just beea 
kicked te tibe«otdier end^of the apart- 
ment, was now resuming its former 
oocnpation, unhnrt^ luad no less 
merrily t^n befbie. He, therefor^ 
thoi^ht it (would beimprudeaat to dift- 
card his quondam pi:q>il, despite of ihis 
piesent poverty; aiui, moreover, al- 
though the first happy |kiojeet of 
pnnAaftting^ll the profits derrvAble from 
Paul's sEMlttstiy waa now AbaoadoBed, 
he still peroeiaiwd groat iiMsility in 
pocketing a pact of the same reoeipts. 
He therefore answeied Panl ^veiy 
warmly, that /he fully empathised 
with him in has present tniteiQheily 
situation ; ihat» so iar as he was, oon- 
cenned, Jie would share his '\MiMfMn§ 
with Jzis 'beloved pupil, but that he 
regretted tat that moment he had only 
eleven-pence hidi^ienny in his peeket; 
that he would, however^ exert himself 



PAUL CUFFOSD. 



SI 



ieibeiitmort Ia pranriing tn opening 
far BMd's Hlecaiy geniiis ; and that, 
if Paul liked to take the slashing and 
plasteiBig part ef the business on 
iiitirMMJf, he wcpnld willingly surrender 
it to bim, «nd grre Jam aM the pvofits 
iriatBP^er^faeynigiit be. JSmaUeaideutL 
be leerettod 4int a Tiole^ rheoBM- 
tiaai pre y e ate d ius giving up ^his -vwd. 
bed to his pt^Si^ %iit <ihat he niglit, 
wMi ^"fhefleanireteagiBabl^ sleep 
tq»«L tlie /n^ 'btffoe <he ^m. Pml 
waa aa^Acfted by thiakhidwefwai tke 



worthy mail, thai, tiumgh not mveh 
addicted to the melting nM>od, 'he shed 
tears of gratitude ; •he insisted, how- 
ever, on not reeeiviiig the whole re- 
ward of his labours ; and at length it 
was settled, though with a noble 
relnetance on the part «f Ifate^Oraw- 
ler, 4hat it shoald be equally shared 
*botwiee& the cxit&B and the critie% 
pitaSg$; the half jirofits bong rea- 
sonably awarded to Mac Ofwwler for 
his instmctiama and Ids vecontmen- 



CHAPTER YI 

'* Bad event? pe^ out o' the tafl of.ip>od pn^poaeB.** 

BartholoiMw Fair. 



It wui not long before ftheve was 'a 
▼iflibieinpreveinMit in tihe ipages •of 
'"TheAslnffiOin*:^ (the fllasfaiiig port 
of thitt iaieoaapKsMb journal "was aad- 
denly ceaioeived and caerisd anw3l&;a 
Tigotnr and spldt which sstanidMsd 
the inll^wnd few who eactnbuted 1k> 
its^instiatiim. It ww not diffimilt to 
•aee (thact % new soldier had been en- 
listed in Iftie service; 'tiiierewas some- 
thing nse fr«8h -and tarty about the 
abase, tAaA it oould never have pro- 
ceeded from l&e worn-out aoerbity of 
an did -siaiAeT. .To 'be sure, a Mttie 
ignonmoe of eordiaary ihets, and wa. 
inncyvnti^g method <ff appljteg ^pranrds 
to meanings wMeh thf^ siever were 
meanft to denote, were oiew and ttben 
distingQiahaMe in the 40Eltiei8m6 *of 
the new AcldUes : neve9»tiiidl»B,ilt was 
easy to attvibttte these peedlittrities to 
an oj^gteal tom of tMiddng; tindthe 
rise Tifi^^iiperi^on tbe appeaivnoe 
of a senies of addles upon oontempo- 
raiy aiithor%iwf3rtten by thir'' eminent 
hand," was so Temai^EaAAe, that fifty 
copies— « nmmber perfeotty unprece- 
dented in ttihe anmalB of " ^e Asi- 
i absolutely iMld in one 



week : indeed, (rsmenvbeving tiie^riB- 
cxple on wM4^ 4t was ftmnded, one 
steFdy eld- wadter dedoned, that the 
journal weald •seen de for itself and 
become popuho:. l^erewasaTenuok- 
abie 'peculiarity about the literaiy 
'd&mtant, who signed liimself ''Kobi- 
IHas." He not only piit old words to 
a new sense, but he used words whicdi 
had never, among the gmienil run of 
wnters, been used before. This was 
espeoiaJly r^narkable in the applica- 
tion of iuvrdnflOBies to authors. Once, 
in censmrii^ « popcfto' writer for 
pleasing the public, and thereby 
growing rich, tbe '' eminent hand " 
ended with — "Bewho surreptitiously 
acoumnlaftes buitie* is, in fact, nothing 
better than abuzz fflmik / "+ 

ISicse enigmatical words and re- 
condite phrases imparted a great air 
of learning to the style of the new 
«ritic; /and, from the 'unintelligible 
fiubllmity of his diction, it seemed 
doubtful *wbether he was a poet irom 
Highgate, 'or a philosopher from 
Kdningsbusg. At all events, the 



♦ money. 



t Wokpocket. 



32 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



reviewer preserved his incognito, and, 
while his praises were rung at no 
less than three tea-tables, even gloiy 
appeared to him less delicious than 
disguise. 

In this incognito, reader, thou hast 
already discovered Paul; and now, we 
have to delight thee with a piece of 
unexampled morality in the excellent 
Mac Grawler. That worthy Mentor, 
perceiving that there was an inherent 
turn for dissipation and extravagance 
in our hero, resolved magnanimously 
rather to bring upon himself the sins 
of treachery and mal-appropriation, 
than suffer his friend and former 
pupil to incur those of wastefulness 
and profusion. Contrary, therefore, 
to the agreement made with Paul, 
instead of giving that youth the half 
of those profits consequent on his 
brilliant lucubrations, he imparted 
to him only one fourth, and, with 
the utmost tenderness for Paul's 
salvation, applied the other three 
portions of the same to his own 
necessities. The best actions are, 
alas ! often misconstrued in this world); 
and we are now about to record a 
remarkable instance of that melan- 
choly truth. 

One evening, Mac Grawler, having 
"moistened his virtue "in the same 
manner that the great Cato is said to 
have done, in the confusion which 
such a process sometimes occasions in 
the best regulated heads, gave Paul 
what appeared to him the outline of 
a certain article, which he wished to 
be slashingly filled up, but what in 
reality was the following note from 
the editor of a monthly periodical : — 

"Sir, 
" Understanding that my friend, 

Mr. , . proprietor of ' The Asi- 

nseum,' allows the very distinguished 
writer whom you have introduced to 
the literary world, and who signs 
himself ' Nobilitas,' only five shillings 
an article. I beg, through you, to 



tender him double that sum: the 
article required will be of an ordinary 
length. 

** I am, sir, Iec. 



Kow, that yery mommg, Mac 
Grawler had informed Paul of this 
offer, altering only, from the amiable 
motives we have already explained, 
the sum of ten shillings to that of 
four; and no sooner did Paul read 
the communication we have placed 
before the reader, than, instoad of 
gratitude to Mac Grawler for his con- 
sideration of Paul's moral infirmities, 
he conceived against that gentleman 
the most bitter resentment He did 
not, however, vent his feelings at 
once upon the Scotsman ; indeed, at 
that moment, as the sage was in a 
deep sleep under the table, it would 
have been to no purpose had he 
unbridled his indignation. Bat he 
resolved without loss of time to quit 
the abode of the critic. " And, in^ 
deed,** said he, soliloquising, "I am 
heartily tired of this life, and shall be 
very gUid to seek some other employ- 
ment. Fortunately, I have houded 
up five guineas and four shillingB, 
and with that independence in my 
possession, since I have forswotn 
gambling, I cannot easily starve." 

To this soliloquy succeeded a mit- 
anthropical revery upon the fidth- 
lessness of friends ; and the meditation 
ended in Paul's making up a little 
bundle of such clothes, &c as Dummie 
had succeeded in removing from the 
Mug, and which Paul had taken from 
the rag-merchant's abode one morning 
when Dummie was abroad. 

When this easy task was concluded, 
Paul wrote a short and upbraiding 
note to his illustrious preceptor, and 
left it unsealed on the table. He then, 
upsetting the ink-bottle on Mac 
Grawler's sleeping countenance, de- 
parted from the house, and strode 
away he cared not whither. 

The evening was gradually closing 



PAUL OLIFrOSD. 



33 



as Pan], eheidng tne end of Us bitter 
Andes, fonud himself on London 
Bridge. He paused there, and, lean- 
ing oTer the bridge, gazed wistfiillj 
on the gloomy waters that roUed on^ 
mnl, earing not a. minnow for the 
numerons charming yovng ladies who 
have thought proper to drown them- 
selTes in thosemerdless waTos, thereby 
depriving many a good mistress of 
an excellent housemaid or an in- 
valuable cook, and many a treacherous 
Phaon of letters beginning with " Fkr- 
Jured Yillen," and ending with " Yonr 
affeetionot but molancoUy Molly." 
. While thus musing, he was suddenly 
accosted by a gentleman in boots and 
spun, having a riding-whip in one 
hand, and the other hand stuck in 
the pocket of his inexpressibles. The 
. hat of the gallant was gracefully and 
carefully put on, so as to derange as 
little as possible a profusion of dark 
curls which, streaming with unguents^ 
fell low not only on either side of the 
face, but on the neck, and even the 
shoulders of the owner. The &oe 
was saturnine and strongly marked, 
but handsome and striking. There 
was a mixture of frippery and stern- 
ness in its expression; — something 
between Madame Yestris and T. P. 
Cooke, or between "lovely Sally" and 
a "Captain bold of Hali&x." The 
stature of this personage was remark- 
ably tall, and his figure was stout, 
muscular, and well knit In fine, to 
complete his portrait, and give our 
readers of the present day an exact 
idea of this hero of the past, we shall 
add that he was altogether that sort 
of gentleman one sees swaggering in 
the Burlington Arcade, wifii his hair 
and hat on one side, and a military 
doak thrown over his shoulders ;— or 
prowling in Begent Street, towards 
the evening, whiAered and dgcared. 

Laying Us hand on the shoulder of 
our hero, this gentleman said, with 
an affected intonation of voice : — 

" How dost, my fine fellow T— long 
1 No. 28. 



sinee I saw yon !-H!ammee, hot yon 
look the worse for wear. What hast 
thou been doing with thyself 1" 

"Hal" cried our hero, returning 
the salutation of the stranger, "and 
is it Long Ked whom I behold 1 I am 
indeed glad to meet you ; and I say, 
my friend, I hope what I heard of you 
is not true 1" 

"Histr said Long Ned, looking 
round fearfully, and sinking his voice, 
— ^" never talk of what yon hear of 
gentlemen, except you wish to brii^ 
them to their last dying speech and 
confession. But come with me, my 
lad; there is a tavern hard by, and 
we may as well discuss matters over a 
pint of wine. Yon look cursed seedy, 
to be sure, but. I can tell Bill the 
waiter — ^fiunous fellow, that Bill ! — 
that yon are one of my tenants, come 
to complain of my steward, who has 
just distrained yon for rent» you 
dog I — No wonder you look so worn 
in the rigging. Come follow me. 
I can't walk wiik thee. It would look 
too like Northumberland House and 
the butcher's abode next door taking 
a stroll together." 

"Really, Mr. Pepper," said our 
hero, colouring, and by no means 
pleased with the ingenious comparison 
of his friend, "if you are ashamed of 
my dothes, which I own might be 
newer, I will not wound you with 
my ^" 

"Pooh! my lad — pooh!" cried 
Long Ned, interrupting him ; "never 
take offence. / never do. I never 
take any thing but money, — except, 
indeed, watches. I don't mean to 
hurt your feelings, — all of us have 
been poor once. 'Gad, I remember 
when I had not a dud to my back, 
and now, you see me — you see me, 
Paul! But come, 'tis only through 
the streets you need separate from 
me. Keep a little behind — very 
litUe— that will do.— Ay, that will 
do," repeated Long Ned, mutteringly 
to himself, "they'U take him for a 
l» 8 



u 



TAUIi ffWfVOSD. 



' iM^Uff It looks lumdfleme nomdajs 
to be BO utt^ed* It jdiews ono hmi 
credit once f* 

Meanwhile P911I, tiiOttgh by no 
jaeftos plea&ed with the eootempt 
expressed for his perseoal appfumce 
by his leQ«|% assodit^, «l4 im- 
pressed with a. keener MBse ikm 
ever of the crimes fit his ooftt lonl 
the yices of bis <Hher |;wiiioi^"0 
breathe not its name ! "-4ol!e>W0l 
doggedly and sullenly the ^tratting 
iBteps of the coxoombical Xr. Pepper. 
fFhat personage arrired at last «t a 
small tarem, and, arresUng a waiter 
who was running wstq^B flie passage 
into the cofiee-room with « 4Usdi of 
'hong-beef, demanded (no doubt 'from 
a pleasing anticipa>tion of a similar 
pendulous catastrophe) a plate of the 
same excellent cheer, to be canied, 
in company with a bottle -of port, 
into a private apartment. "Sxt sooner 
did he find himself alone irith Paul, 
than, bursting into a kmd laugh, Hr. 
iired Buryeyed his comrade from heaad 
-to foot, through an eye^Uiss irhi(^ 
he wore fiutened to his buttpn-hole 
by a piece of blue ribsnd. 

"Wen— *gad now," said he, stop- 
ping ever and anon, as if to laugh the 
more heartily — ^"stab my t1I»i1s> but 
you are a comical quiz; I wonder 
what the women would say, if they 
saw the dashing Edward Pepper, 
Jlsquire, walking arm in arm with 
thee at Banelagh or TauxbaU t ]^ay, 
man, never be downcast ; if I laogh 
at thee, it is only to make thee look 
a little merrier thyself. Why, l^ou 
lookest like a book of my grand- 
£Etther'B called Burton's Anatomy of 
Melancholy; and faith, a shabbier 
bound copy of it I never saw." 

** These jests are a little hard," said 
Paul, struggling between anger and 
an attempt to smile ; and then recol- 
lecting his late literary occupations, 
and the many extracts he had taken 
from Gleanings of the Belles Lettres, 
In ord^ to impart elegance to ^ his 



eiiticisms, he tinresr oat his hand 
theatricafiy, and spouted witii « 
solemn f 



«<( Of all the grlefii that hanaB the dIstNsk;* 
fSife the BMtt MMer la ajeamAa jeat r ^ * 

''•Well now, prithee forghre me/' 
flhSd Long Ked^ composing his fe^ 
tores; ''and just tell me what you 
have been doing the last two months.^ 

^'^adiSng and plasterhig f said 
Paul, with conscious pride. 

"SlaJdiiug-and what! The boy's 
ma4,— what do you mean, Ptall " 

"In other words," said our hero, 
speaking vcay slowly, "know, very 
iionglfed! that I have been critic to 
'The AsSnflsnm.*" 

If Paul's eonii«ie'lfl^hedatifa«t, 
he now langhed ten tinvs more 
.merrily than • ever. He threw his 
length of limb upon a neighbouring 
S0&, and literally rolled with eaehin- 
natory convulsions; nor did his risible 
csnotioQB subside until the entrance 
of the hung-beef restored him to 
recollection. Beelng, then, tbat a 
cloud lowered oyer Paul's counte- 
nance, he went up to him, with some- 
thing like gravity; begged his pardon 
for his want of politeness ; and desired 
him to wash away all unkindness in 
^ bumper of port. Paul, whose ex- 
cellent dispositions we have before 
had occasion to r^naik, was not im- 
pervious to his friend's apologies. 
He assured Lo^g Ked, that he quite 
forgave him for his ridicule of the 
high situation he (Paul) had enjoyed 
in the literary world ; that it was the 
duty of a public censor to bear no 
malice ; and that he eihould be very 
glad to take his share in ike interment 
of the hung-beef. 

The pair now set down to their re- 
past, and Paul, who had fared but 
meagrely in that Temple of Athena 
over which Mac Grawler presided, 
did ample justice to the viands before 
him. By degrees, as he ate and 
drank, his heart opened to his com- 
panion ; and, laying aside that Asi. 



(Bian4 fsamoBD. 



S5 



i e^tj^l^mk lifi Ittd at ftnt 
it iigrnntont mi bim to 
hfi .enttiteiiied Fappir with 
"all the particulars of the life he had 
lately passed. iHe j MUfr ato d te him 
hm biMwh'tnith Danae LoUdna ; his 
ai;re6ni«st with "Hmc Giwrler; tiie 
giozyiie had aoqoiiiBd, aadthe fRongs 
he Ittd flostaiiifld ; and he condudeijl, 
aa now* the •aeeend bottle made its 
appesEsace, bj stattoghis derire «f 
ezchao^ng, for a»aae sane aotire 
prolMsion^tfaat wdantaryearearwhioh 
ho had-so pcoatioingiy began. 

Thia last part of Banlls oenfteaioiis 
aeeietly del%h|ad the asul of haag 
Ked ; for that expfllieiiflad ofllfeotor 
«f ibe higfani98^-*<Ned, was, kuieed, 
<^ «o less aohte >a pcafiMsioft) ».ibad 
kng'^fixed an^ e^ i^Km oar haro^as 
OBO whom hetheafght HMsr to be an 
hemiir to that eniterpiniwg caffiag 
vwhieh he 0q>epaed, and an aaafitl 
aasislaiit to hiaoarif. fle ^lad not, in 
his earlier acquaintance with Paal^ 
when the yoath was under the roof 
and ike MwrveSUmot of the proc^aaed 
and wary lifs. Lobkins, deemed it 
prudent to expoee the exact nature of 
his own pufmits, and had contented 
hiaaaelf by gradnaily ripening the 
miad and the finances of Paal into 
that state when the proposition of a 
leap 6om a hedge woold not be Hkely 
greatly to reroltr the person to whom, 
it was made. He now thought that 
time near at hand; and, filling our 
hero's glass up to the brim, thus 
art&iliy addressied him : — 

*^ Coninge, my frigid I -f your narm- 
tion has given me a sensible pleasure; 
for, enrse me if it has not strengthened 
toy fevourite opinion,— that every 
'tiling is for the best. If it had not 
been for the meanness of that pitiful 
fellow, Ma6:Gra^ler, you. might still 
be inspire with the paltzy amMtion 
of earning a few shllliitg(^-a-week, and 
Tilifying a pareerof poor devils in 
file what'di'yfroall^it,'' with a hard 
name; whereas now, my gdod Paul, 



I tniat I ahitt htf aUo^to^oiiiBL to yaar 
goniBS A sow<aNar,ia which gniaaaa 
aro had foFth»aflkaiag^*-^ wiiich you 
may wear 2fi»e oloihM, and ogle the 
ladles at Baaalafh; aad wlMin yon 
aie tiled of gh>cy and MbeH^« Paul 
.why you have oaly to jnafce your bow 
to an h£imaa^ or u widow with a 
apanidttg joiatare, and quit tho ham 
of wBailike ai fiinainnafaMi i ** 

Though Paul's perception into the 
ahoteaaer boatheaoif ni«ala was not 
vary aeate,*'^*«»d at that time the 
port wine had conaidanMy iBonfaaed 
tho ftw notaana he poasMsed upon 
^ tb» foeaafy of virtn^"*««i«t ho oonld 
not bnt perceiie that Xr. Peppei^s 
indmnatod i»ropoailAefi was &r from 
baling ono wUdi thfi4»anch of bishops, 
or a synod of mraaliatB, would oon- 
scientiously have approved: he conae- 
qnontly veoiphMd dlont; and Long 
Ked, a£ker a paiaae, eoBtoiaed^^ 

*'Yon teown^ ganaalogy, ^y 
good foltow^^-rl i»s theaon of Liawyer 
Pepper, a ahrawd old dqg> bataa hot as 
Oaleutta; andthegmndaonoffie^ton 
Pepper, a great author, who wrote 
verses on tombstoneB, and hepta stall 
of religions traeto in Oariiale. My 
grandfather, the aeston, waa the beat 
temper of the funily ; Sot all of us 
are a little inc£ned to be hot in the 
mouth. Well, my fine fellow, my 
father left me his blessing, and this 
devilish good head of hair. I lived 
for some years on my own resources. 
I fqnnd it a partieaiarly ineonvenient 
mode of lifb, and of lato I have taken 
to live on the public. My father aad 
grandfatiier did it before me, though 
in a different line. 'Tis the pleaaantest 
plan in Idie worM. Follow my el- 
ample, and your eoatshall be as spruce 
as my vmu-T^hfd^ Eaul, your 
health!" . ^ 

** But, longest o£ m6rtals i'f aaad 
Paul, refilling ius.ghuM» <^thangh the 
public may allow you to eat yoi»r 
mutton off their baoka finr a shoi^t 
tame, they will iciok up at lasi|, and 

d2 



86 



PAUL CUFFOBD. 



upset yon and yonr banquet : in other 
worda,— (pardon my metaphor, dear 
Ked, in remembrance of the part I 
have lately maintained in ' The Asi- 
nsBom/ that most magnificent and 
metaphoricalof journals!)— in other 
wordB^ the police will nab thee at 
last; and thou wilt have the distin- 
guished fibte, as thou already hast 
the distinguishing characteristie— of 
Absalom ! " 

" Tou mean that I Shan be hanged/' 
said Long Ned. ** That may or may 
not be ; but he who fears death never 
eigoys life. Consider, Paul, that 
though hanging is a biEtd fibte, starring 
is a worse ; wherefore fill your glass, 
and let us drink to the healtii of 
that great donkey, the people, and 
may we nerer want saddles to ride 

itr 

"To the great donkey," cried Paul, 
tossing off hlB bumper; "may your 
(shears be as long! But I own to 
you, my friend, thai I cannot enter 
into your plans. And, as a token of 
my resolution, I shall drink no more, 
for my eyes already begin to dance in 
the air: and if I listen longer to 
your resistless eloquence, my feet may 
share the same fiite ! " 

So saying, Paul rose; nor could 
any entreaty, on the part of his 
entertuner, persuade him to resume 
his seat. 

"Nay, as you will," sidd Pepper, 
affecting a rumchalarU tone, and 
arranging his cravat before the glass. 
"NAy, as you will. Ned Pepper 
requires no man's companionship 
against his liking : and if the noble 
spark of ambition be not in your 
bosom, 'tis no use spending my breath 
in blowing at what only existed in 
my too flattering opinion of your 
qualities. So, then, you propose to 
^return to Mac Grawler, (the scurvy 
old cheat !) and pass the inglorious 
remainder of your life in the mangling 
of authors and the murder of gram- 
marl Go, my good ^fellow, got 



scribble again and for ever for Mae 
Grawler, and let him live u}K>n thy 
brains, instead of suffering thy brains 
to " 

" Hold 1 " cried Paul. " Although 
I may have some scruples which pre- 
vent mj adoption of that rising line 
of life you have proposed to me, yet 
you are veiy much mistaken if yon 
imagine me so spiritless as any longer 
to subject myself to the frauds of 
that rascal Mac Grawler. No! My 
present intention is to pay my old 
nurse a visit It appears to me pass- 
ing strange, that tiiough I have left 
her so many weeks, die has never 
relented enough to track me out, 
which one would think would have 
been no difficult matter: and now you 
see that I am pretty well off, having 
five guineas and four shillings, all my 
own, and she can scarcely think I 
want her money, my heart melts to 
her, and I shall go and ask pardon 
for my haste ! " 

" Pshaw ! sentimental," cried Long 
Ned, a little alarmed at the thought of 
Paul's gliding from those clutches 
which he thought had now so firmly 
closed upon him. " Why, you surely 
don't mean, after having once tasted 
the joys of independence, to go back 
to the boozing ken, and bear all 
Mother Lobkins' drunken tantarums f 
Better have stayed with Mac Grawler 
of the two I" 

"You mistake me," answered Paul'; 
" I mean solely to make it up with 
her, and get her permission to see the 
world. My ultimate intention is — to 
travel." 

" Right ; " cried Ned, "on the high- 
road — and on horseback, I hope ! " 

"No, my Colossus of Roads! No! 
I am in doubt whether or not I shall 
enlist in a marching regiment, or 
(give me your advice on it) I fency I 
have a great turn for the stage^ ff^Mfr 
since I saw Garriek in Richard. 01iaU 
ItumstroUerl It mwt be a merrj 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



87 



"0, the deviir cried Ned. ''I 
myself onoe did Cuflio in a barn, and 
eveiyone swore I enaetad the dnmken 
scene to perfection ; but you have no 
notion what a lamentable life it is to 
a man of any susceptibility. Ko, my 
Mend. No! There is only one line 
in all the old plays worthy thy atten- 



• Tobp or not tobp,* that ii the quMUon.* 

I forget the rest 1" 

" WeU ! " said our hero, answering 
in the same jocular rein, " I confess, I 
have 'the actor's high ambition.' It 
is astonishing how my heart beat, 
when Richard cried out, 'Come6tM<^t 
huUe I ' Yes, Pepper avaunt ! — 

*A thonaand hearts are great within my 



"Well, weU,"said LongNed, stretch- 
ing himself, " since you are so fond of 
the play„what say you to an excursion 
thither to-night ] Qarrick acts ! " 

" Done ! " cried Paul 

« Done I " echoed lazily Long Ned, 
rising with that bl€u€ air which dis- 
tjnguishes the matured man of the 
world from the enthusiastic tyro. 
'' Done ! and we will adjourn after- 
wards to the White Horse." 

" But stay a moment,^* said Paul ; 
"if you remember, I owed you a 
guinea when I last saw you : here it 
is!" 

"Nonsense," exclaimed Long Ned, 
refusing the money, " nonsense 1 you 
want the money at present ; pay me 
when you are richer. Nay, never be 
coy about it : debts of honour are not 
paid now as they used to be. We lads 
of the Fish Lane Club have changed 
all that. WeU, well, if I must." 

And Long Ned, seeing that Paul 
insisted, pocketed the guinea. When 
this delicate matter had been ar- 
ranged, — 

"Come," said Pepper, "come get 



« The highway. 



t 



your hat; but^ bless me I I have for- 
gotten one thing." 

"Whatr 

" Why, my fine Ftal, ooudder, the 
play is a bang-up sort of a place ; look 
at your coat and your waistcoat^ that 's 
aUI" 

Our hero was struck dumb with 
this argumenium ad hominan. But 
Long Ned, after eigoying his pei^ 
plexity, relieved him of it^.by telling 
him that he knew of an honest trades- 
man who kept a ready-made shop, 
just by the theatre, and who would 
fit him out in a moment. 

In fiMst Long Ned was as good as 
his word ; he carried Paul to a tailor, 
who gave him for the sum of thirty 
shillings, half ready money, half on 
credit^ a green coat with a tarnished 
gold lace, a pur of red inexpressibles, 
and a pepper«ndHudt waistcoat ; it is 
true, they were some what of the laigest, 
for they had once belonged to no less 
a person than Long Ned himself: but 
Paul did not then r^;ard those nice- 
ties of apparel, as he was subsequently 
taught to do by Gentleman George (a 
personage hereafter to be introduced 
to our reader), and he went to the 
theatre, as well satisfied with himself 

as if he had been Mr. T , or the 

Count de M , 

Our adventurers are now quietly 
seated in the theatre, and we shall not 
think it necessary to detail the per- 
formances they saw, or the observa- 
tions they made. Long Ned was one 
of those superior beings of the road 
who would not for the world have 
condescended to appear any where but 
in the boxes, and, accordingly, the 
friends procured a couple of places in 
the dress-tier. In the next box to 
the one oar adventurers adorned, they 
remarked, more especially than the 
rest of the audience, a gentleman and 
a young lady seated next each other; 
the Utter, who was about thirteen 
years old, was so uncommonly beau- 
tiful, that Paul, despite his dramatic 



sr 



BAffLCLIRF^Xfiu 



eillllilBiMlxi^ cMd. Mttoifl^ dH«it Ub 
eyes from her countaiMao» td ike 
stage. Her hair, of a bright- aAd G&r 
aaAMtftt, ]Mtt9' il» ptvfttB linglefts 
aJl^iit h«r M^y siieMteg a Mitir 
skaide u)N« ii« eoivpletlta in wkftch> 
the roses seemed just budding, as ii 
yMKf, ittlD- bladt: B«r ^yw litt|^, 
bltte, aiid mfcAr ki|;«iiMB|r thut 
btllQa&t, TWM eurtoiMd by thli diriCr 
&tk Utthttr; her tfmitk mealed Bt^^ 
nlly girt iMi slitflw; 09 amber- 
leas wevfr the- dim^es^ tiisfc ermff 
thne the flOi; ilpe^ ^mj 1^^ weie 
parted, rose Mo sHS^t; sod the em« 
dumtmttii of ihe dkiiple§ ivfWakted 
by iwo rofrs^ef' tMh mens diwftiiig 
than the ridieni' fnM thai eter 
glittefed Oft » btidiit lUi Ite ohkf 
ohanft ^ the tefe IIM itti ekeeedHag 
and tmKdiiiig iHr of iinMettee and 
girlish mAmk; yw ld|^ hn^ 
gased fiKP ei^BP upen tiM fliwi tot* 
Bpeakable bldeiti, thirt all inlte«ehed 
and stafatlese dewn; lAkk Mesned a» 
if' a vevy breel^ eo^d* mar ih 1^- 
haps the firae ndghi htm wanted 
a&ima<len ; but, pMhiqw, albe> H her- 
reired fima fha^ wttifr an* atHaetlon, 
ihe refkMM of tite featiuOi was m soft^ 
and gentie, thaft «li# ejre ifMdered 
there with the stihe dldigli^ and left 
it vith the same relaotmee^ ifhieh it 
ezperlenoMin dw^btgon or in qtdt- 
Mng those hnes irtdeh are f^und te 
harmonise the Btoflif uMi itn Tiik»k 
But while Paul war feadlhg Ide gaae 
on this 7<m4gr heaaty^ the keen 
gknces of Leiig^ ]^ed had foimd an 
ofcjeet no less ihsiefaiaihig in a large 
gold watch wkioh Ike gentlettan who 
acoompanied iSke dftttiad erer and 
ahon brou^t fo hia ey<B, at if he were 
waxing a mUe Weaify ef the length 
of the pieees dr the li^gerii^ pro- 
gressien of tine* 

" What a betattfhl iheeP whia- 
pered PaoL 

"Is the fitoe gidd, theft, ««> weil a» 
the back V wfaispeMd Long Ked-in 
petanu 



Onr hero fCaited^ frownad^-Hkitd 
dMptU Ike giganAaa atataie of hia 
coBMdiy tekl Um^ reiy aBgi%» ta 
find anae oftker subioei for jesttag^. 
Ned in kte ittoa alMai, bmindeaax 
reply,. 

lieMMrklle Fknl, ikongh the hid^' 
war latkir toe yfuqrlo.Adl in fare. 
with, began wondering what relatM»« 
ship her companion bore to her. 
Though the gentleman altogether was 
handsome, yet his IMbrs^ aad tke< 
wki^ chartieter oi hia ha^ were 
Widely dfflbrenfc £roai tbeee ennffkick 
PUnl gaud witk sadi dekg^ fia 
waa- no4^ lOeBiagly, above fiftwad^ 
fOrty^hiit hkr forehead waa kait int(» 
many a fine and fairiw; and in hiar 
eyes the light, though searching, was 
more sober and staid than becanfe 
his years. A disagreeable expression 
pkHfeA ahent tte mouth, aad the 
shape of the ftee, wideh waa long and* 
Iftitt, cMMidlAab^ dettaeted from the 
preposeesBing eflbct of a handseme 
aquiline nose, fine teetit, and a dark, 
manly, though saUow con^lezion. 
There wae a mingled idr of shMwd- 
neai and distractien in the etpressloii 
of his Ikee. He seemed to pay reij 
Utile attentkm to the play, or te any 
thing about him; but he testified 
▼cry considerable alacrity when the 
pby wae over in petting her doak 
around his young companion, and in 
threading their way through the thiclt 
crowd that the boxer were new pour- 
ings forth. 

Paal and his companien nientiy, 
and' eaeh ii4th vety cBffBreot mo- 
tives fix>m the other, followed them. 
They were now at Hko door <tf thtt 
theatre. 

A serrant stepped forward and in*^ 
fonnedihe genttonan thathiacaniage 
was a few^ paeee -dietant, but that it 
might be some time bdfere it conld 
drive up to the theatre. 

" Omi you watt U liie carriage, my 
dear?*' said th e g e ntl e man to hia 
young ekarge ; and gke onawesiqg in 



PAiUli qU^MAJX 



3ft 



the affizmatlTe, they both left the 
house, preceded by the semmt. 

" Come on ! " said Long Ned, 
hastily, and walking in the^ same 
direction which the strangert' Iia4< 
taken. Paul readily agreed; they 
soon oyertook the strang^i:S: HottS;' 
Ked walked the nearest to the gen* 
tleman, and brushed by> him <^ in 
passing. Presently a vofce crfed, 
" Stop thief I " and Long- If ©d'feirffngr 
to Paul, "Shift for yourt^If— runr*' 
darted from our hero's side into the 
<aPo#a» tmShnsiAitk ii» & tntakHligx 
Bslbre^Baal c^uld r«wwkik 
be fowMk hiimell siddM^ 
the odHar; h» tosMdi 9iamgAf,.wm^ 
mm the ^tfk fiMRnf tkv yran^Mfito 



99ii^^hr tlkCMgrb^ .ilnti m 



'< Wiiftdir' wpMitiil Pm4 b«Mi*« 
dtftdj MAAolkilf 'fOt^e MkM ttfitllir 
yena^f kidy nlfadiliiig'i&onr JbiMlBfaqK 
doM ]ii»«nt8toKH^ Watck4 " 

"Ay,.y«iBi^3BMr <»M:» Monr 
in a gv^rt-eoafft^ wlio now «wid«diy 9^' 
pidiirad.€atbe'OliMr«id#of Paul.; "tM* 
geoikeaM^ntKte]^ l^eaa* yiorhooso 
(ililtiiiiiWg tlii»cwa»Utott^i^ /beti 
wtttcbtoo^^^-HOnttl triBOup thiacliiyr 

^By ttt-'M iMBI /' crio* tiw gsti^ 
SBtai; '*7 ymM iMtrkvrar kst a^ 
wat^fi»rt«4wdite'Talil*.: Lctmawattr 
I flww tU^feflow^comfBiion sftatch 
it from my fob. The thief's gfUM-^ 
tee wtf 110^9 at^ \m8k the oeboaa^lite. 
I giT6 hiM in. fltriot diarg» td ym% 
mriwhWBrt; tftk« ^M ednM^aenMi if 
you I^t lidtt>eM»{Ni;'' 

Th«r watirtuwm mamstAf sii^fcMly, 
that iMdUL tioiwimt^td be tknneeimi; 



"Don't answer me, fellow 1" said 
the gentleman haughtily; "do as I 
tell you ! " And, after a little col- 
loquy, Paul found himself suddenly 
ttia^ltod off between two tall fellows, 
who looked prodigiously inclined to 
e^ him. % this time he had re- 
co^esed Ilia sf&rprise and dismay : he 
did not^ want -the penetration to see 
tlat hi# comfanion had really com- 
mttM^tlle^cilftnce for which he was 
Charged ; and he also foresaw that the 
circumstance might be attended with 
Md' eerikseifiMntai t» hiMNlf. 



^MmAtttiM 



of thecMB^ hat 
tfttenpi ij^ etcipv 

■i*W«Kimptf«dffi[it prtwwding 
ottiUi pairt} aoMK&igly, alMr moyiBg. 
m i mnyim m' f my qvkily aad 7«iar pm* 
mf^ h^twtiielMd bis on^eit«ii1;y^ 
wMXicte* Miatf f vsw the griq^ of^ 
tte gMrffa■HB,l»l^Jlit i^aodbroBgli^ 
t^er.h«iA;thi«ft;ve]«llied 2tgimi^ih^> 
dnekiol tlMBginAkliam ok. his rig^ 
wMl)a[>'hiat4y.lfrgeod.wlll a» t»'e«n» 
htefttoielin^uMi hlsbold, aKbretfe«|i 
toieaards tki arm- inr SI 
staMtefft ip^Mxm. Bb« tittt louraA* 

attlrtt of Mow with the lelb^ finltiB 
vw|r:iaiAmMti«ble t^w<»d» tht pw a wg^ 
vstioBit of ft firok balanee'; attd bdbn^ 
Paisl '• httA. reeevtrei svAeisiiit^ to^ 
"bolt>" lie was 
praatraM i» thtr e«rlh^ by » Uon*^ 

tile other sttd madiwagid. 
wttMuna, wUchr nttarly d«pri!?Ml 
hkn of hui flnuns; and wtei he» 
rimi\vatfid thoM- nstfel pessMaon» 
(wMeh a nnn Aay reasonab^ b«M^ 
of loiiDg;.8iio» it i» oidy the -mixntity 
t» loss), ho fotnd 
hte3aif'8tcetdMd^oxta.bofioh iatbio 
HHkthimMu 



4Q 



PAUL OUFFOBD. 



CHAPTBBVn. 

* Bagirt witti BiMijr » gaUant tfATCb 
Appanird M beoomas tb« hrtef. 
Old Giallir Mt in hifdiwi : 

• « ' • • • 

• • • • • 
Mnoh I mbdoaM fhit w^rwwd bogr 
Will one day woik BMUore amKqr*** 



Thb leamed and ingenioiu John 
SchweighflBuser (a name &cile to spell 
and melliflnouB to pronounce) hath 
been pleased, in that Appendix eonH- 
nen8 parUatlam dodrintB de meiUe 
humand, which closeth the Tolnme of 
his Opwcula Academica, io observe 
(we translate from memory) that, "in 
the infinite yariety of things which in 
the theatre of the world oocnr to a 
man's survey, or in some manner or 
another afi^t his body or his mind, 
by £ur the greater part are so con- 
trived as to bring to him rather some 
sense of pleasure than of pun or dis- 
comfort.'* Assumiug that this holds 
generally good in well-constituted 
frames, we point out a notable ex- 
ample in the case of the inearoerated 
Paul; for, although that youth was in 
no agreeable situation at the time 
present, and although nothing very 
encouraging smiled upon him from 
the prospects of the friture, yet, as 
soon as he had recovered his con- 
sciousness, and given himself a rousing 
shake, he found an immediate source 
of pleasure in discovering, first, that 
several ladies and gentlemen bore him 
company in his imprisonment; and, 
secondly, in perceiving a huge jug of 
water within his reach, which, as his 
awaking sensation was that of burn- 
ing thirst, he delightedly emptied at 
a draught. He then, stretching him- 
self, looked around wiUi a wistfrd 
earnestness, and discovered a back 
turned towards him^ and recumbent 



on the floor, which, at the very first 
glance, appeared to him fiuniliar. 
" Surely,'' thought he, '' I know that 
frieze coat» and the peculiar turn of 
those narrow shoulders.** Thus solil<v 
quising, he raised himself, and, put- 
ting out his leg, he gently kicked the 
reclining form. "Mutt^ing strange 
oaths," the form turned round, and, 
laising itself upon that inhospitable 
part of the body in which ihe intro- 
duction of foreign feet is considered 
any thing but ah honour, it fixed its 
diUl blue eyes upon the fiMse of the 
disturber of its slumbers, gradually 
opening them wider and wider, until 
they seemed to have enlarged them- 
selves into proportions fit for the 
swallowing of the important truth 
that burst upon' them, and then from 
the mouth of the creature issued — 

"Queer my* glims, if that han't 
UttiePauU" 

"Ay, Dummie, here I ami — Not 
been long without being liud by the 
heels, you see! — Life is short; we must 
make the best use of our time ! " 

Upon this, Mr. Dunnaker (it was no 
less respectable a person) scrambled 
up from the floor, and seating himself 
on the bench beside Paul^ said, in a 
pitying tone, — 

"Vy,Uius-a-mel ifyouben't knocked 
o' the head !— Tour pole 's as bloody as 
Murphy's fiice ♦ ven his throat's cut ! " 

* •• Mttipby's face," nntoamed reader, 
appeareth, in Iriih phxaae, to mean « pig's 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



41 



"Tis only the fortune of war, 
Dmnmie, and a mere trifle: the 
heads manu&etnred at Thames Gonrt 
are not easily put out of order. But 
tell me, how come you here 1 " 

''Yy, I had been lushing heavy 
Tet 

".TOl you grew light in the head, 
eh ) and fell into the kennel." 

"Yes." 

"Mine is a worse business than 
that, I fear : " and therewith Paul, in 
a lower Toioe, related to the trusty 
Bummle the train of accidents which 
had conducted him to his present 
asylum. Dummie*B fiice elongated as 
he listened : however, when the nar- 
ratire was over, he endeavoured such 
consolatoiy palliatives as occurred to 
him. He represented, firsts the pos- 
sibility that the gentleman might not 
take the trouble to appear ; secondly, 
the certainty that no watch was found 
about Paul's person ; thirdly, the fiict 
that, even by the gentleman's confes- 
sion, Paul had not been the actual 
offender; fourthly, if the worst came 
to the worsts what were a few weeks', 
or even months', imprisonment? 

"Blow me tight 1" said Dummie, 
" if it ben 't as good a vay of passing 
the time as a cove as is fond of snug^ 
gery need desire I " 

This observation had no comfort for 
Paul, who recoiled,^ with all the 
maiden coyness of one to whom such 
unions are unfiuniliar, from a matri- 
monial alliance with the nmggery of 
the House of Correction. He rather 
trusted to another source for consola- 
tion. In a word, he encouraged the 
flattering belief, tiiat Long Ned, find- 
ing that Paul had been caught instead 
of himself, would have the generosity 
to come forward and exculpate him 
from the charge. On hinting this 
idea to Dummie, that accomplished 
" man about town" could not for some 
time believe that any simpleton could 
be so thoroughly unacquainted with 
the world as seriously to entertain so 



ridiculous a notion ; and, indeed, it is 
somewhat remarkable tiiat such a 
hope should ever have told its flatter- 
ing tale to one brought up in the 
house of Mrs. Margaret Lobkins. But 
Paul, we have seen, had formed many 
of his notions from books; and he 
had the same fine theories of your 
" moral rogue," that possess the minds 
of young patriots when they first leave 
eollege for the House of Commons, 
and think integrity a prettier thing 
than office. 

Mr. Dunnaker urged Paul, seriously, 
to dismiss so vague and childish a 
fimcy from his breast, and rather to 
think of what line of defence it would 
be best for him to pursue. This sub- 
ject being at length exhausted, Paul 
recurred to Mrs. Lobkins, and in- 
quired whether Dummie had lately 
honoured that hidy with a visit. 

Mr. Dunnaker replied that he had, 
though with much difficulty, appeased 
her anger against him for his supposed 
abetment of Paul's excesses, and that 
of late she had held sundxy conversa- 
tions with Dummie respecting our 
hero himself. Upon questioning 
Dummie frirther, Paul learned tbe 
good matron's reasons for not evinc- 
ing that solicitude for his return 
which our hero had reasonably antici- 
pated. The fact was, that she, having 
no confidence whatsoever in his own 
resources independent of her^ had not 
been sorry of an opportunity effec- 
tually, as she hoped, to humble that 
pride which had so revolted her ; and 
she pleased her vanity by anticipating 
the time when Paul, starved into sub- 
mission, would gladly and penitently 
re-seek the shelter of her roof, and, 
tamed as it were by experience, would 
never sgain kick against the yoke 
which her matronly prudence thought 
it fitting to impose upon him. She 
contented herself, then, with obtaining 
from Dummie the intelligence that 
our hero was under Mac Grawler's 
roof, and, therefore, out of all absolute 



4a 



PAUL CLIEFOWX 



evil; and^M skft^iild not fi)i«M» tho 
ingejuous exortiMU of iataUeci by 
whieli Paal had - c^nvecUd. InmBelf 
into the ''KobilUwi'' of "Th* Ami- 
immn" and tkeraby nvtd^ hmuaelf 
f^om utter pemu^r^ she was pesfeeUj 
conViDfiedf from hm knowledge' of 
c^imck&r, . iksA- the illiuivioue Mao 
Qjawler ironld Bot long continue ihxt 
protection to the rebeUious proti^, 
which, in her opinloii, waa his only' 
preeemttive.fifOip paeking peekets»or 
famishing. H6 the former deeeniak 
tematiare Bbe. knew Paol'a great and 
jejune aTcrsion, and she conae^^uMitly 
had littie fear for hia morala or hia 
safety, in thua abandoning him fiur a 
while to chance* Any amdety, too^ 
that she mi|^t otheswiae baTO keenly 
experienced waa deadened by the 
habitual intozicatiea now increasing 
upon the good lady witk age, and 
whioh, though at timea she could be 
excited to all her chacaeteriatio yehe* 
menoe, kept her aenaea for the most 
part plun^ into a Lethssan stupor; 
or, to apes^ more oonrteously, into a 
poetical abstiaction from the tlunga 
of the extecnal woiid. 

'' But," amd Dummies aa by dogvees 
he imparted the solution of the dame'a 
conduct to thft ^^"*^'**"g ear of hia 
companion^^" But I hope* aa how ven 
you be out of thia era scrape, leetle 
Paul, you Till take Yarning, and drop 
Meeater Pepper'a acquaintance (yiol^ 
I must say, I vaa alva^ a sorry, to aee 
you hencoumge), andgo home to the 
Mug, and &m gnu^ the old mort, for 
ahe haa not been like the aame eietur 
ever sinoe you vent. She 'a a delicate*' 
arted oman^ that Piggy Lob ! " 

So appropriate a panegyric on Mrs. 
Maigaret Lobkina mighty at another 
time, haye excited Paul'a risible 
mmseles; but at that moment he 
really felt compunction for the unce- 
remonioua manner in whx^ he had 
left her, and the softnesa of ngretfid 
affection imbued in ita hallowing 
«oloun eveor the image of Piggy Lob« 



InrConyenatiMW <tf rthia inteUeetaa 
and. domeatic deseriptien, the nightr 
and ensuing naaroiag pasaed away^ tUl 
Baal found himaelf in the awful pre- 
sence of > Juatioe Bnmflat> Sereial 
caaeaweror disposed of before hiaewn, 
and among o&ers Mr. Bumraie IhWi* 
naker obtained- his releaae, thoii^h 
not without. a aeycre reprimand fbc 
his sin of inebriety, which no doubt 
seuiibly affiieted.the ingenuous ^>irit 
of thatneUe chamet^. At length- 
Paul'a turn came. He heacd, aa he 
took hia 8taiio% a general boa&r AM 
first he imagined it waaat hia own in^ 
tereating appeanmee ; but^ raising hia 
eyesy he perceived that it waa at'ther 
entcaooe of the gentleman who waa ta 
become hia aeouaer^ 

"Huah," said, some one near him^ 
"'tie Lawyer Brandon^ Ah, he's 
a 'cute fellow ! It will go liaxd with 
the person he complaina of," 

There waa a happy fund of elastici^ 
of sj^i about our hero i and though 
he had not the good fortune te haHn 
''a blighted heart/* a circumataneQ 
which^ by the poets and philosophers 
of the preaent day, ia auppoeed to 
ina]^ a'lnan with wonderful courage, 
and. make him impervious to all lua* 
fortunea ; yet* he bore himaelf up with 
wonderful courage under hia preaent 
trying ntuationy and waa feir &om 
overwhelmed, though he waacertainly 
a little damped,. by the.obaervation he 
had just heurd. 

Id^. Brandon, was, indeed, a barria- 
ter of cmtsidendile reputation, and in 
high esteem inthe world,, not only for 
tatenty. but alao for a< great austerity 
of manners, wtiich, tiUough a littW 
mingled with stemneaa and acerbity 
for the errors of other men, waa naiu* 
ralfy thought the more praiseworthy 
on thai aoooont ; there being, as p«H 
Bona of experience are doubthwa awar^ 
two (Uvisiona in the first class H 
morality : imprimis, a great liatied for 
the vices of one's neighbour f secondly^ 
the posaession (^vtrtoea in ona'a ae]£ . 



2JJJU CUVFOSDt 



it 



Hr. Bmadoa irai notknd wilk 
gseat enulMgr by Justice BnrnflBly 
and u lie an%.ira4iili' in hud (ik 
boiTOvedtwatoh), M^^ikiiJ^ftine' 
was worth flye gvAmuk % aetnent^ 
the jiwtioeuWDoeeedediflundlaMlIf 'to 
busmeas. 

JbrotUift, eoaU he ekMBtv, .ahestir, 
or moiPiiitMihciteaqr, thaw the eiidmn 
of Mr«. BMNBdeiii The «>n«bomtlre 
teatuBoi^'QC' th« tietehiMuft>foikflveii ; 
and then* PanLinui called upon for his i 
defence^ 'EhiiwasequB%b!rle£wifeh>' 
the <du»8e;-^ut^ ahtol ii iwe no4 
equd^ soUflfiMtoey* Ifc eeaiMted ift 
& £aem deeJuiatieft e£ Ue iusoeenee, 
Hia^ eosMade^ he eenfewed^ might 
have stoles the initeh|*biit he humhlj 
Bvggestedr that that wis etaotlry the 
very reascok whj he had 4ie* atelODili. 

''Hosfknw, ftUowv" asked. Ji»tice 
Bamflaty '*hAve yea kuowii* jmr 

''Ahouihalfa^jFwH" 

"And what is his nameandcalMiig^" 

Baal hesiteledy a»d. ds^bied. to 
aasweB* 

'' Asad ]^|eceelbusiaes»t" sndtfae 
justioe^ in a^ ]aelaQeh<^j tea^ a&d 
flbakiaghla head porteateosly. 

The hHi^reraoqoiesoed ia Um aphfr* 
rism; but witk gseat mag&aaiaufly 
obserredy^ thai he did set wish ta be 
hard npoa the yexmgizuau HiaxBQ^ 
was in his furoasvaad his ofibnce^wae 
probably the oonseqiieaBee of evil eom- 
pany« He sqggested, therefore, thai 
as he »Bsi be perftetiy arwai» of the 
address of his frfead^ he sboiild reesKre 
&fall pwdottif he utivid iminedtately 
faYOv the nagutrote with>thal iate^ 
mation*. He ooaelBded by renarhii^ 
withaingihgphihHrthiiepy^thltt'it was 
not the pnnishment of ;the youth,.. iMi 
the recaiGeix of his- watek, thalt he 
desired. 

Justice Banfloty hat^.duly im- 
pressed npou, owrhere/is miad the 
disinterested and Chxistian. mercy of 
the complainant, and the eyerlasting 
obligfttioa Paal was qades tahiaa fes 



iti dl^p)^^ niTTepaited, ivith double 
Bcieomiiy; those qoeiiea lenpeoting 
the habitation and name of Long If ed^ . 
whMbrovrfaeto-hid hefcivileeUaed to 



<3mfid<anr«eU«oiiiBHtfaai Bud, 
tmgialiefid for^ and wte% antoaehed 
b^^.the bentHM benlgni^ of Lmvyevi 
Biaadoli^^ecmtinaed ten iahieetab* 
besu'denieliehetraf hieaoBirBlEb>aad 
iitfitfeefaeloMnnHv^haeaitiiiaed to* 
iaaiel apen hiatww iaaeeeaee and ant 
blenished>i*peeta)alityof ehaoMtor. 

'' Teornmt^ jvm^ mmV qaOth 
thejasticet. ''ToBrBflme^yoaaay,]a 
Faul'^'FMd what! joa haive laaoiy aa 
aJMu^I '11 be beand.". 

Heea the yooag geatlenuai. egaut 
haritoted: at length ha replied/^ 

" Faal Lehkias, yoar wiorshqi." 

*" Lebhins4" repeated the jadge^ 
''Lohhiaef oene hithen SauAsta: 
hmraaai wer Ihat auao dinm in oar- 
bUuskbooksr 

'''Stvpleasa year wonUip,'^ qaoth a 
litOe flieat ittaay vaij anfel imauuiy 
respects to the Festos of the police^ 
*' thsve* la one Peggy Lohkin% who 
keep* a pablie^house, aseriof ftmk 
kea^ called thoMag, ia Thaam Ceart^ 
neianctl^in eas beot^ yoaf waiship." 

" Hot, hoi" said Jaetioe Barafiat^ 
winkiag a* M«. BsamloB^ ** we amsfe 
sift thiar a lUtie. Ftajr, Ux* Ftol 
Lebk&BS^ lAai zehitien i» the good 
laadUi^efthfrMag, in ThaoMa Coast, 
toyeanelfr 

'' Neae ai aU^. sir," said Paal, 
haotUrr-^' ^ 's (»d|r a Msndl" 

Upoa thiaifaaia was a laa|^ in the 
coart* 

'' Siltaee;' etied the jnatioe: ^'and 
I dare 81^, Mr. Pael Lohkias, that 
thia friead of yearn wiil Ymask for ^e 
raipactabi]% of yoav ehanMrter, apoa 
widchiyaaaBapteesed to taiae yo«D> 
seftfr' 

" I ha^a net a doafot of it» sir,*' 
aaaweied Pan! ; aad there waaanother 
laagh. 

" And' »,th»ia' aa;f other eqaiHy 



44 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



weighty and pniieworUiy friend of 
yoan who will do you the like kind- 
neiBl" 

Paul heeitated; and atthatmomeiit^ 
to the snrpriae of the eovai, bnt^ aboTC 
all, to the utter and aatonndiiig snr- 
priaeof himaelf, two gentlemen, dressed 
in the height of the fiuhion, pushed 
forward, and, bowing to the jostiee, 
dedared themBolves ready to Voneh 
for the thorough reapeetobility and 
unimpeachable charMter of Mr. Ftral 
Lobkins, whom they had known, th^ 
said, for many yean, and for whom 
they had the greatest respect While 
Paul was sury^ring the persons of 
these kind Mends, whom he neyer 
remembered to have seen before in 
the course of his life, the lawyer, who 
was a very sharp fellow, whispered to 
the magistrate; and that dignitary 
nodding as in assent, and eyeing the 
new comers, inquired the names of 
Mr. Lobkins's witnesses. 

" Mr. Eustace Fitsheibert, and Mr. 
William Howard Bussell," were the 
several replies. ' 

Names so aristocratic produced a 
general sensation. But the impene- 
trable justice, calling the same Mr. 
Saunders he had addressed before, 
asked him to examine well the coun- 
tenances of Mr. Lobkins' friends. 

As the alguaail eyed the features of 
the memorable Don Baphael and the 
illustrious Manuel Monies, when the 
former of those accomplished person- 
ages thought it convenient to assume 
the traTelling dignity of an Italian 
prince, son of the sovereign of the 
valleys which lie between Switierland, 
the Milanese, and Savoy, while the 
latter was contented with being ser- 
vant to Mofueigneur U Prince ; even 
so, with fiur more earnestness than 
respect, did Mr. Saunders eye the 
features of those high-bom gentlemen, 
Messrs. Eustace Fitzherbert and Wil- 
liam Howard Bnssell; but^ after a 
long surv^, he withdrew his eyesy 
made an unsatiBfactoiy and unrecog- 



niring gesture to the magistrate, and 
said, — ** Please your worship, they are 
none of my flock ; but Bill Troutling 
knowB more of this sort of genteel 
f>lnip « tli ft n I does.** 

''Bid BiU TrotttiingH»peart'* was 
the laconic order. 

At that name a certain modest con- 
fiision might have been visible in the 
feces of Ifr. Eustace Fitsherbert and 
Mr. William Howard Bussell, had not 
the attention of the court been imme- 
diately directed to another case. A 
poor woman had been committed for 
seven days to the House of Correction 
on a charge of dim^apeekibUily, Her 
husband, the person most interested 
in the matter, now came forward to 
disprove the charge ; and by help of 
his neighbours he succeeded. 

"It is all very true," said Justice 
Bumflat; ''but as your wife, my good 
fellow, will be out in five days, it will 
be scarcely worth while to release her 
now."* 

So Judicious a decision could not 
fell of salasfying the husband ; and the 
audience became from that moment 
enlightened as to a very remarkable 
truth, via. that five days out of seven 
bear a peculiarly small proportion to 
the remaining two ; and that people 
in England have so prodigious a love 
for punishment^ that though it is not 
worth whUe to felease an innocent 
woman from prison five days sooner 
than one would otherwise have done, 
it is exceedingly well worth while to 
commit her to prison for seven 1 

When the husband, drawing hie 
rough hand across his eyesy and mut- 
tering some vulgar impertinence or 
another,had withdrawn, Mr. Saunders 
said,-- 

"Here be Bill Troutling, your 
worship!** 

" Oh, weU," quoth the justice,— 
' and now If r. Eustace Fits 



* A faot, oocnnring fn the month of Jana- 
try, 1880.— r<d< •• The Horaiag Hwiad.'* ' 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



45 



Hollo, how's this! where are Hr. 
William Howard Bnssell and his 
friend Mr. Bustaoe Fiisherbertr 

" Befao aiunmed^— When ? ** 

These noble gentlemen, having a 
natural dislike to be confit>nted with 
so low a person as Mr. Bill Trontling, 
had, the instant pnbUe interest was 
directed from them, silently disap- 
peared from a scene where their rank 
in life seemed. so little regarded. If, 
reader, yon should be anxious to leani 
from what part of the world the tran- 
sitoiy yisitants appeared, know that 
th^ were spirits sent by that inimit- 
able magician. Long Ned, partly to 
report how matters fiured in the conrt ; 
for Mr. Pepper, in pursuance of that 
old policy which teaches that the 
nearer the fox is to the hunters the 
more chance he has of being over- 
looked, had, immediately on Us abrupt 
departure firom Paul, dived into a house 
in the very street where his ingenuity 
had displayed itself, and in which 
oysters and ale nightly allured and 
regaled an assembly tiiat^ to speak 
impartially, was more numerous than 
select : there had he learned how a 
pickpocket had been seized for unlaw- 
ful affection to another man's watch ; 
jmd there, while he quietly seasoned 
his oysters, had he, with his charac- 
teristic acuteness, satisfied his mind, 
by the conviction that that arrested 
nnfortunate was no other than Paul. 
Partly, therefore, as a precaution for 
his own safety, that he might receive 
early intelligence should Paul's defence 
make a change of residence expedient, 
«nd partly (out of the friendliness of 
fellowship) to back his companion with 
such aid as the fiivourable testimony 
of two well-dressed persons, little 
known " about town," might confer, 
he had despatched those celestial 
beings, who had appeared under the 
mortal names of Eustace Fitzherbert 
and William Howard Bussell, to the 
imperial court of Justice Bumflat. J 



Having thus aeeounted for the appa- 
rition (the dUappaaritUm requires no 
commentary) of Paul's " friends," we 
return to Paul himself. 

Despite the perils with which he 
was girt» our young hero fought out 
to the hist^ but the justice was not by 
any means willing to displease Mr. 
Brandon; and observing that an in- 
credulous and biting sneer remained 
stationary on that gentleman's lip 
during the whole of Paul's defence, 
he could not but shape his decision 
according to the well-known acute- 
ness of the celebrated lawyer. Paul 
was accordingly sentenced to retire 
for three months to that country- 
house situated at BrideweU, to which 
the ungrateful functionaries of justice 
often banish their most active citizens. 

As soon as the sentence was passed, 
Brandon, whose keen eyes saw no 
hope of recovering his lost treasure, 
declared that the rascal had perfectly 
the Old-Bailey cut of countenance; 
and that he did not doubt but, if ever 
he lived to be a judge, he should also 
live to pass a very different descrip- 
tion of sentence on the offender. 

So saying, he resolved to lose no 
more time, and very abruptly left the 
office, withqpt any other comfort than 
the remembrance that, at all events, 
he had sent the boy to a place where, 
let him be ever so innocent at present, 
he was certain to come out as much 
inclined to be guilty as his friends 
could desire; joined to such moral 
reflection as the tragedy of Bombastes 
Furioso might have afforded to himself 
in that sententious and terse line, — 

** Thy waioh is gone,— watdhes an made 
to go I"* 

Meanwhile, Pftul was conducted in 
state to his retreat^ in company with 
two other offenders, one a middle- 
aged man; though a very old "/fe," 
who was sentenced forgetting money 
under fiJse pretences, and the other 
a little boy, who had been found guilty 



%i 



PAUL CLIFFOXD. 



of (dtspbig iiiid«r « ootmuMide ; it 
Mngihe etpemX hmKby vt ihe JSng- 
Msh Imr to milM ho fixn&^ffMrn awi 
nonsensical shadM 4f ^Sffflpenee be< 



tween yioe snd wMorinM, ■nd fts 
peculiar method of protecting^ the 
honest Mug to make aamaiiy rogues 
as possible ui^ iiboiL» jpaoe 4>f time. 



XJHAFTEE Yin. 

« r<MWMn Saue^yrhaX is the end of pmtWtmiwt as xesardsOie IndiirMiulpiiiiMied ? 

ewtom.— To iiiak« Urn better i 

ComwMmStfm.^'^Smr^ yim panMi twiv oflitfAsM^vlio eMffram fliiir ysoCli) 

tbaotheiiMtiiiPed? 

CtMtofli^We send than to ibe House of OoRfotiaiw tpta«oqistft«tth tho^d.. .. de i t 
rascals in ^e oonntry ! ** 



As it ms nther late ki the ^y 
^en Panl made His fimt €iiMs>at 
BridnrMl, he passed thaialght in the 
^reeMving^TOom." ^henextmoniiig, 
aa soon as he had been examined by 
Ihe soxgaon, and «lothed in the 
enstomajry vnlfbnn, he was vshersd, 
aeoording to his dasslfteatlon, among 
the good eompany mho had been 
^oniddezed gniify iji that eompendioas 
offenoe, *' a misdemeanoar." Here a 
tail gentleman marehed np to him, 
and addrcssed liim in a certain lan- 
guage, ^dudi might be called the free- 
masonry of 'flash; «id which Panl, 
though he did not eompr^end wrbor 
tim, rightly understood to be an 
inquiry whether he vna a thorough 
rogue and an en4aie rascal. He an- 
swered half in confusion, half in 
anger ; and bis leply was so detri- 
mental to any fiMrourable iniaenoe he 
mi^t othevwiser have exenased orer 
the interrogator, that the latter person- 
age, giving him a pinoh in the ear, 
shouted out, " Bamp, ramp !" and, at 
that significant and awful wotd, f^aul 
found hims^ sunoanded in a triee 
by a whole host of ingenious tor- 
mentom. One pulled i£is member, 
another jMnehed that ; one cuffed him 
before, and another tiirashed him 
behind. By wi^ of isterlnde to this 



^saSlngoeevpaltMi^ theyilHpped him 
of the Yfty ^MT tings ikai in his 
cSiaBge of dross he hadretainei. ' One 
eanriod cffhia faaadherdhltf, ai second 
his nedcdoth, and a tiibd, luckier 
than Mfther, possessed IteiBlilf <Sf a 
pair 4>f eomettan Bh]rt4mtiens, given 
to Paul asa-^o^ drameurhy a young 
lady who aold orai^^ near AeiPower. 
Happily, before tiiis-hiitiatoryprocess, 
teehnieally termed '^ranqMng,* and 
exereised upon SU new oomers who 
seem to hi^ a spark ^ decency in 
them, had redseed the bones of Paul, 
who tou^t tooth and nail in his 
defence, to the state ^ magnesia, a 
man of a grave a^MOt, who had 
hitherto plucked his oakum in quiet, 
suddenly rose, thrust hhnself between 
the victim and the assailants, and 
desired the latter^ like one having 
authority, to leave the lad akme, and 
go and be d d, 

This proposal to resort to another 
place for amusement, though uttered 
in a very grave and tranquU manner, 
produced tiiat instantaneous effect 
which admonitions from great rogues 
generally work upon litiie. Messieuis 
the ''rampers" ceased from their 
amusements, and the ting4eader erf 
the gang, thumping Paul heartily oA 
tiie baek, deelued he was a oapital 



PAUL GLIF90BD. 



47 



Hke^ i^«h>ke hoped liad not giTvn 



Fftol^ MUl tdenoyBg bb fiit, was 
ttbottt to a«nrar in no paeiftc mood, 
wtek a impAxiy, who did not care in 
file least hi&w auny men he locked 
up'liMr an oflfenoe, but iiIlo did not at 
ail IQbo tiie tionfole of looking alter 
anjrone of his flock to ice tl^t tiie 
cii^Boe yarn not committed, now ead- 
deidy appeared among the eet ; and, 
after ecoldiBg them for tho-exoesatTe 
plagae they ware to him, earned off 
two of the poeveat 4t Ihe mob to 
oQiiitBify eoBfinemaftt. It happened, of 
eonrae, that tiWae two had not taken 
the BBuUeat ehave in the dlatarbance. 
lEhis aeene oTor^theoompaay retvmed 
to picking oaJbom,— 4ie tread-mill, 
ihat admirably jnat iaventien, by 
whioh a strong man enffBra no litSgne, 
and a weak one loaes his health for 
life, not hanng been then introdaoed 
into oar excellent establiflhm«iits for 
«OReeting crime. Bitteriy, and with 
many dark and wrathfiil feelings, in 
wMch the sense of injnstioe at pmdah- 
ment alone bore him up against the 
hnmiliations to which he was sub- 
jected—bitterly, and with a swelling 
heart, in which the thoughts that lead 
to crime were sdzeady fbreing their 
way through a soil suddenly warmed 
for thdu* growth, did Paul bend oyer 
Ms employment. He felt himself 
touched on the arm, he turned, and 
saw that the gentieman who had so 
kindly deUrered him from his tor- 
mentors was now sitting next to him. 
Paul gazed long and earnestly upon 
his neighbour, "Struggling with Ihe 
thought that he had beheld that saga- 
cious countenance in happier times, 
although now, alast it was altered, 
not only by time and Ticissitade, but 
by that air of gravity which the cares 
of n^hood spread gradually oyer the 
&ee of the most thoughtiless,'^until 
•all doubt melted away, and he ex- 
claimed,— 



«* Is that 9Wk, Mx. fSOftttaMm!— 
How glad f am to see you heref" 

"And I,** returned the quondam 
mnxdwer for the mewapapera, with a 
naaal twang, " ahoirid be yery f^ to 
see myself any where else !" 

Paul mado no answer, and Angaatus 
eontinQed. 

'*' To a wke man all plaooa am the 
aame,'-HK> it has been aald. I doaft 
belieye it, P^ul,-^I don't bcdlefe it 
But a tniee torefleetaon. I remem- 
bered you the moment I saw yon, 
though you are suipnamgly gvown. 
How is my fHend Ifao Gvawlerl — 
still hard at woritfor 'The AMamoBir' 

" I belieye so,'' aald Paul auUenly, 
and hastening to ehaage the eonyer- 
aation ; " but tell mo, JSr. TomMnaon, 
how^eame you hither ? I heard you 
had gone down to -the north of 
Sngfamd to fiiMl a Uusvatifo employ- 
ment.^' 

'^PeaalUgrt the wwld always mis- 
vapreaente the aetlona of thoae who 
are constantly belJBre it t " 

" It is very true,* said Paul ; "and 
I have said the same thing myadf a 
hundred times in 'Tho Aiinsanm,' for 
we wore never too lavish of our truths 
in that magnificent Journal. 'Tis 
aatonishing what a way we made tiiree 
ideas go." 

** Tou remind me of myself and my 
newspaper labours," rained Augustus 
Tomfinson : '^ I am not quite sure 
that / had so many as tbfee ideas to 
spare ; for, as you say, it is astonish- 
ing how lar that number may go, 
properiy managed. It is with writers 
as witii strolling playsrs,^^the same 
three ideas that did for Turks in ot»e 
scene do for Highlanders in the next : 
but you must tell me your history 
one of these days, and you shall hear 
mine." 

" I should be excessively obliged 
to you for your confidoice," said Paul, 
" and I doubt not but your life must 
be excessively entertaining. Hine, tS& 
yet, has been but ingipid. The liyes 



48 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



. of litenufj men are not fraught with 
adventiire ; and I qnestion whether 
every writer in " The A8in»am' has 
not led pretty nearly the same ex- 
istence as that which I have sustained 
myself." 

In conversation of this sort our 
newly restored friends passed the 
remainder of the day, until the honr of 
half-past four, when the prisoners are 
to suppose night has b4^> and be 
locked np in tibeir bed-rooms. Tom- 
linson then, who was glad to re-find 
a person who had known him in his 
beaux joura, spoke privately to the 
turnkey ; and the reknlt of the oon- 
yersation was the coupling Paul and 
Augustus in the same chamber, which 
. was a sort of stone box, that generally 
accommodated three, and was, — for 
we have measured it^ as we would 
have measured the cell of the prisoner 
of Chillon,— just eight feet by six. 

We do not intend, reader, to indi- 
cate, by broad colours and in long 
detail, the moral deterioration of our 
hero; because we have found, by 
experience, that such pains on our 
part do little more thui make thee 
blame our stupidity instead of laud- 
ing our intention. We shall there- 
fore only work out our moral by 
subtle hhits and brief comments ; and 
we shall now content ourselves with 
reminding thee that hitherto thou 
hast seen Paul honest in the teeth of 
circumstances. Despite the contagion 
of the Mug,-— despite his associates 
in Fish Lane, — despite his intimacy 
with Long Ned, thou hast seen him 
braye temptation, and look forward 
to some other career than that of 
robbery or fraud. Nay, even in his 
destitution, when driven from the 
abode of Ids childhood, thou hast 
observed how, instead of resorting to 
some more pleasurable or libertine 
road of life, he betook himself at once 
to the dull roof and indpid employ- 
ments of Mac.Grawler, and preferred 
honestly eamuig his subsistence by 



the sweat of his brain to veenrting to 
any of the numerous ways of living 
on others with which his experience 
among the worst part of society must 
have teemed, and which, to say the 
■least of them, are more alluring to 
the young and the adventurous than 
the barren paths of literary labour. 
Indeed, to let thee into a secret, it 
had been Paul's daring ambition to 
raise himself into a worthy member 
of the community. His present cir- 
cumstances, it may hereafter be seen, 
made the cause of a great change in 
Ids desires; and the conTersation he 
held that night with the ingenious 
and skilfril Augustus, went more to- 
wards fitting hki for the hero of this . 
work than all the habits of his child- 
hood or the scenes of Ids earlier 
youth. Young people are apt, erro- 
neously, to believe that it is a bad 
thing to be exceedingly wicked. The 
House of Correction is so called, 
because it is a place where so ridi- 
culous a notion \a invariably corrected. 

The next day Paul was surprised 
by a visit from Mrs. Lobkins, who 
had heard of his situation and its 
causes from the friendly Dummie, 
and who had managed to obtain from 
Justice Bumflat an order of admission. 
They met, Pyramus and Thisbe like, 
with a wall, or rather an iron gate, 
between them: and Mrs. Lobkins,. 
after an ejaculation of despair at the 
obstacle, burst weepingly into the 
pathetic reproach, — 

" Paul, thou hast brought thy 
pigs to a fine market !" 

'"Tis a market proper for pigs, 
dear dame," sud Paul, who, though 
with a tear in his eye, did not refuse 
a joke as bitter as it was inelegant ; 
" for, of all others, it is the spot 
where a man learns to take care of 
his bacon." 

"Hold your tonguo-^'' cried the 
dame, angrily. '* What Inonness has 
you to gabble on so while^you are in 
limbol" 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



A9 



''Ah, dear dame,** said Paul, "we 
can't help these mbs and stumbles on 
our road to preferment 1 " 

'' Soad to the scragging post ! " 
cried the dame. " I tells you, child, 
you '11 live to be hanged in spite of all 
my care and 'tention to you, though 
I hedicated you as a scholard, and 
always hoped as how. you would grow 
up to be an honour to your ** 

"King and country," interrupted 
Paul. "We always say honour to 
king and country, which means get- 
ting rich and paying taxes. 'The 
more taxes a man pays, the greater 
honour he is to both,' as Augustus 
says. Well, dear dame, all in good 
time." 

/^What! you is merry, is you? 
•Why does not you weep 1 Your heart 
is as hard as a brickbat. It looks 
quite unnatural and hyasna-like to 
be BO devU-me-careish ! " So saying, 
the good dame's tears gushed forth 
with the bitterness of a despairing 
Parisina. 

" Nay, nay," said Paul, who, though 
he suffered for more intensely, bore 
the suffering far more easily than his 
patroness, " we cannot mend the mat- 
ter by crying. Suppose you see what 
can be done for me. I dare say you 
may manage to soften the justice's 
sentence by a little 'oil of palms;' 
and if you can get me out before I am 
quite corrupted, — a day or two longer 
in this infernal place will do the busi- 
ness, — I promise you that I will not 
only live honestly myself, but with 
people who live in the same manner." 

"Buss me, Paul," said the tender 
Mrs. Lobkins, " buss me, — oh ! but I 
forgits the gate ; I '11 see what can be 
done. And here, my lad, here 's sum- 
mat for you in the meanwhile — a drop 
o' the cretur, to preach comfort to 
your poor stomach. Hush ! smuggle 
it through, or they '11 see you." 

Here the dame endeavoured to push 
a stone bottle through the bars of the 
gate ; but, alas ! though the neck 

No. 24. 



passed through, the body refused, and 
the dame was forced to retract the 
"cretur." Upon this, the kind- 
hearted woman renewed her sobbings ; 
and so absorbed was she in her grief, 
that^ seemingly quite forgetting for 
what purpose she had brought the 
bottle, she applied it to her own 
mouth, and consoled herself with that 
dixir vitoi which she had originally 
designed for Paul. 

This somewhat restored her; and 
after a most affecting scene, the dame 
reeled off with the vacillating steps 
natural to woe, promising, as she 
went, that, if love or money could 
shorten Paul's confinement, neither 
should be wanting. We are rather 
at a loss to conjecture the exact 
influence which the former of these 
arguments, urged by the lovely Mar- 
garet, might have had upon Justice 
Bumflat. 

When the good dame had departed, 
Paul hastened to repick his oakum 
and rejoin his friend. He found the 
worthy Augustus privately selling 
little elegant luxuries, such as tobacco, 
gin, and rations of daintier viands 
than the prison allowed; for Augus- 
tus, having more money than the 
rest of his companions, managed, 
through the friendship of the turn- 
key, to purchase secretly, and to resell 
at about four hundred per cent., such 
comforts as the prisoners especially 
coveted.* 

" A proof," said Augustus dryly to 
Paul, "that, by prudence and exer- 
tion, even in those places where a 
man cannot turn hhnself, he may 
manage to turn a penny ! " 



« Avery common praotioe at the Bride- 
wells. The governor at the Coldbath-Fieids. 
apparently a very intelligent and active man, 
every way fitted for a most arduous under- 
taking, informed us, in the only conversaiion 
we have had the honour to hold with him, 
that he thought he had nearly, or quite, de- 
stroyed in his jurisdiction this illegal method 
of commerce. 

B 4 



50 



PAUL <}WFIO»D. 



llQiiftfi^«t<W» 8tK«tMWn«»->r(AeXii|ro^ betrayed ! ' 

Drypjbit'b J^tr^7, b. U.<4?fi* 



..tiiHV 'scaped rW4M{. 



place in the ohftriMtev of Autg^tm 
TomlinA(»i msio FiMil .hftd vlast en- 
countered tbatiUustriouB man. Th^n, 
Augustus had affected the man of 
pleaaure,— the leamed lounger about 
town, — ^the aUraccomplished Peridefi 
of the paperfr— now quoting Horace — 
now flanking, a fl/'from the leader of 
Lord Diinghunner ; in a word,, a dort 
of husLan half -way- house between 
Lord Dudley and the Marquess of 
Worcester. J^ow^ a grayer, yet not a 
less supercilious air had settled upon 
his featunes; ihe <pjetea[ioe of &shion 
had given w|iy to tiie pretence of 
wisdom ; and, from the man of plea- 
sure, Augustus Tomlin^n had gro;im. 
to the phiiosopher. With. this eleva- 
tion alone, too^ he W3is not content : 
he united the philosopher with the 
politician ; and the ingenious rascal 
was pleased especially to pique him- 
self upon being *' a mo4Q)»te Whig i " 
" Paul," he was vont to olwerve, " be- 
lieve me, moderate Whiggi^m is a 
most jevceUent.cr^ed. It adapts itself 
to eveiy possible change, — ^to every 
conceivable variety .of circumstance. 
It is the only politi^a for us who are 
the aristocrats of , that ^ee body who 
rebel against tyrannical laws ! for, 
hang it, I am none of your democrats. 
Let there be dungeons and twnheys 
for the low rascals who whip clothes 
from the hedge where they haag to 
dry, or steal down an area in quest of 
a silver spoon ; but houses of correc- 
tion are not made for men who have 
received an enlightened education — 



who^bh^oryonr p^ty^^eftf as much 
as a justice ot 4)0afievjcan. do^-^who 
ought never to be termed dishonest 
in th^ dealings^ hut, if tiiey are 
found out, 'urU^cky in i^eir*specul<i' 
Uons!** A pretty tJ|;iing, indeed, 
that there should be distinctions of 
fflji^k among other members of the 
community, and none among us! 
Where 's your boasted British consti- 
tuiioji> I should like to know-^where 
are your privileges of aristocracy, if I, 
who am . a . g^itleman bom, know 
Latin,. and have lived in the best 
society, should be thrust into this 
ahomtoable place with a dirty fi^ow, 
who was bom in a cellar, and cauld 
never earn more at a time thaa would 
purchase a sausage 3 — l^o,<nol none 
of your levelling principles for me ! I 
am liberal, Paul, and love liberty; 
but, thank Heaven, I despise your 
democrades ! " 

Thus, half in eaixiest, half v^eiling a 
natural tum to sarcasm, would Uua 
moderate Whig run on for the hour 
together, during those long nights, 
commencing at half-past four, in 
which he and Paiul bore ea^h other 
company. 

One evening, when Tomlinson was 
so bitterly di^poBed,to be prolix that 
Paul felt himself somewhat wearied 
by his eloquence, our hero, desirous 
of a change in the conversation, re- 
minded Augustus of his promise to 
communicate his history; and the 



*A.phnM asidkdtQanotoddtliMatflrof 
the publio money. 



PAUL CLIFFOBD. 



n 



phitoflophiffti Whig, aothiiig kftth to 
speftk of himself, cleared Ida throat, 
and began. 

husobt ow AuovBrrs Tovmrsoir. 

''•NieTer Bund vho ima my frther, 
noFwhat was my native place ! My 
first anoesfcor was Tommy Liim — (his 
heir heoame Tom Linn's son :)— yon 
have •heard the ballad made in his 
praise: — 

«« *Toaimy Lion te aflMtoiimaii born, 
Sia iMttd U teld^andhis bwrd is shorn ; 

Am. elder.JiMuok. is Tcumnj I4nnl ' * 

** There" was a sort of prophecy re- 
specting my ancestor's descendants 
darkly insinuated in the eoncluding 
stanza -of this ballad :~- 

« « Tommy Linn, and his wUo, and his wife's 

mother, 
Ther all feH Into ihe fire tofelher ; 
They that lay undermost got ahotaUn,— 
<We are not CAonghr said Tommy 

Linn.'t 

"Ton seetho prophecy; it is ap- 
plicable both to gentlemen rogues 
and to moderate Wldgs ; for both are 
fmdermost in the world, and both are 
perpetnaUy bawling ont, ' We are not 
enough!' 

*»I shall begin my own history by 
saying, I went to a North Country 
school; where I was noted for my 
aptness in kaming, and my skill at 
'prisoner's base :' — open my word I 
purposed no pun ! I was intended for 
the chorch : wishing, betimes, to in- 
stract myself in its ceremonies, I per- 
snadedmy schoolmaster'B nuud-serrant 
to assist me towards promoting a 
christening. My &ther did not like 
this premature loye for the sacred 
rites, fie took me home ; and, wish- 
ing to give my clerical ardour a dif- 
ferent turn, prepared me for writing 
seimons, by rtading me a dozen 
arday. I ^rew tired of this, strange 



• flee Ritaon's "Svrth-Cmmifnf Charitter, 
flbid. 



aa it may teem* to you. 'FiUmt/ 
said I, one mormng, 'it is no'vas 
talking, I wiU not go into the dtoMh 
— that 's poutive. Qive ne • jms 
blessings and a bundled ponnds^ and 
I '11 go up to London^ and geta JMif 
instead of a cnraoy.' My fiUlMr 
stormed, but I got the bettmr at hat 
I talked of becoming a* pKvate tntor ; 
mmn I had heard nothing was ao 
easy, — ^the only things wanted mero 
pupils ; and the only way to get thoa 
was to go to London, and let ay 
leamiagbe known. My poor ihther ! 
— well, he 's gone, and I am glad of it 
now ! (the ^Maker's Toice fidtered)— 
I got the better, I say, and I easne t» 
town, where I had a ration a book- 
seller. Through his interest, I wrote 
a book of ^IVavels in ^Ethiopia for an 
earl's son, who wanted to beeome a 
lion; and a Treatise on the Greek 
Particle, dedicated to the prima 
minister, for a dean, who wanted to 
become a bishop,---Greek being, next 
to interest, the best read to themitre. 
These two achievements were liberally 
paid ; so I took a lodging in a first 
floor, and resolved to nuike a bold 
stroke for a wife. What do you think 
I did Y— nay, never guess, it wonld he 
hopeless. First, I went to the beat 
taUor, and had my clothes sewn on 
my back ; secondly, I got the peenge 
and its genealogies by heart ; thirdly, 
I marched one night, with the eeoleat 
deliberation possible, into the house 
of a duchess, who was giving an 
immense rout ! The newspapers had 
inspired me with this idea. I had 
read of the vast crowds which a lady 
'at home' sought to win to her 
house. I had read of staircases im- 
passable, and ladies carried out in a 
fit ; and common sense told me how 
impossible it was that the &ir re- 
ceiver should be acquainted with the 
legality of every importation* I 
therefore resolved to try my chance, 
and — entered the body of Augnstns 
Tomlinson, as a piece of stolen goods. 

B 2 



PAUL CLIFFOKD. 



Faith I the first night I was shy, — I 
stnck to the staircase, and ogled an 
old maid of quality, whom I had heard 
annonnoed as Lady Margaret Sinclair. 
Donbtless, she had never been ogled 
before ; and she was evidently enrap- 
tured with my glances. The next 
night I read of a ball at the Coantess 
of My heart beat as if I were 

going to be whipped ; but I plucked 
up courage, and repaired to her lady- 
ship's. There I again beheld the 
divine Lady Margaret ; and, observing 
that she turned yellow, by way of a 
blush, when she saw me, I profited by 
the port I had drunk as an encourage- 
ment to my erUrie, and lounging up 
in the most modish way possible, I 
reminded her ladyship of an intro- 
duction with which I mid I had once 
been honoured at the Duke of Dash- 
well's, and requested her hand for the 
next cotillon. Oh, Paul 1 fancy my 
triumph ! the old damsel said with a 
sigh, ' She remembered me very well,' 
ha ! ha ! ha ! and I carried her off 
to the cotillon like another Theseus 
bearing away a second Ariadne. Not 
to be prolix on this part of my life, I 
went night after night to balls and 
routs, for admission to which half the 
fine gentlemen in London would have 
given their ears. And I improved my 
time so well with Lady Margaret, 
who was her own mistress, and had 
five thousand pounds, — ^a devilish bad 
portion for some, but not to be laughed 
at by me, — that I began to think 
when the happy day should be fixed. 
Meanwhile, as Lady Margaret intro- 
duced me to some of her Mends, and 
my lodgings were in a good situation, 
I had been honoured with some real 
invitations. The only two questions 
I ever was asked were (carelessly), 
'Was I the only son?' and on my 
veritable answer ' Yes ! * ' What, 
(this was more warmly put) — what 
was my county ? ' — Luckily, my 
county was a wide one, — Yorkshire ; 
and any of its inhabitants whom the 



fiur interrogators might have ques- 
tioned about me could only have 
answered, 'I was not in their part 
of it.' 

"Well, Paul, I grew so bold by 
success, that the devil one day put 
into my head to go to a great din- 
ner-party at the Duke of Dashwell's. 
I went, dined, — ^nothing happened : I 
came away, and the next morning 
I read in the papers, — 

"'Mysterious affair, — ^person lately 
going about, — first houses — most 
fashionable parties — ^nobody knows — 
Duke of Dashwell's yesterday. Duke 
not like to make disturbance — as*- 
royalty present.' * 

"The journal dropped from my 
hands. At that moment, the girl of 
the house gave me a note from Lady 
Margaret, — alluded to the paragraph ; 
— wondered who was * The Stranger;' 
— ^hoped to see me that night at Lord 

A 's, to whose party I said I had 

been asked ; — speak then more fully 
on those matters I had touched on ! — 
in short, dear Paul, a tender epistle I 
All great men are &talist8 : I am one 
now: fate made me a madman: in 
the very fiice of this ominous para- 
graph I mustered up courage, and 

went that night to Lord A 's. The 

fsuot is, my affairs were in confusion — 
I was greatly in debt : I knew it wa& 
necessary to finish my conquest over 
Lady Margaret as soon as possible ; 

and Lord A 's seemed the best 

place for the purpose. Kay, I thought 
delay so dangerous, after the cursed 
paragraph, that a day might unmask 
me, and it would be better therefore 
not to lose an hour in finishing the 
play of ' The Stranger,' with the farce 
of the 'Honey Moon.' Behold me 

then at Lord A ^"s, leading off 

Lady Margaret to the dance. Behold 
me whispering the sweetest of thinga 
in her ear. Imagine her approving 
my suit, and gently chiding me for 



*Fnct 



PAUL CUFFORD. 



58 



talking of Gretna Green. Conceive 
aXL this, my dear fellow, and jast at 
the height of my triumph, dilate the 
^yes of your imagination, and hehold 

the stately form of Lord A , my 

noble host, marching up to me, while 
a voice that, though low and quiet as 
•an evening breeze, made my heart 
sink into my shoes, said, ' I believe, 
sir, you have received no invitation 

from Lady A V 

" Not a word could I utter, Paul, — 
not a word. Had it been the high- 
road instead of a ball-room, I could 
have talked loudly enough, but I 
was under a spell. 'Eheml' I M- 
teredatlast: — 'E— h — e— m! Some 
mis— take, I— L* There I stopped. 
'Sir,' said the Earl, regarding me 
with a grave sternness, 'you had 
better withdraw!' 

'' ' Bless me ! what's all this V cried 
Lady Margaret^ dropping my palsied 
ann, and gazing on me as if she 
expected me to talk like a hero. 
'"Oh,' said I, 'Eh— e— m, eh— e— m, 
I will ezp — lain to-morrow, ehem, 
€ — ^h — e — ^m.' I made to the door; 
aU the eyes in the room seemed turned 
into burning glasses, and blistered the 
very skin on my face. I heard a 
gentle shriek as I left the apartment ; 
Xady Margaret fidnting, I suppose ! 
There ended my courtship and my 
adventures in 'the best society.' I 
fell melancholy at the Ul success of 
my scheme. You must allow, it was 
a magnificent project. What moral 
courage! I a^ire myself when I 
think of it. Without an introduction, 
without knowing a soul, to become, 
all by my own resolution, free of the 
finest houses in London, dancing with 
earls' daughters, and all but carrying 
off an earl's daughter myself as my 
wife. If I had, the friends must have 
done something for me; and Lady 
Hargaret Tomlinson might perhaps 
have introduced the youthful genius 
of her Augustus to parliament or the 
ministry. Oh what a fall was there ! 



yet fidth, ha ! ha ! ha ! I could not 
help laughing, despite of my chagrin, 
when I remembered that for three 
months I had imposed on these ' deli- 
cate exclusives,' and been literally 
invited by many of them, who 
would not have asked the younger 
sons of their own cousins; merely 
because I lived in a good street, 
avowed myself an only chUd, and 
talked of my property in Torkdure ! 
Ha, hal how bitter the mercenaxy 
dupes must have felt» when the dis- 
covery was made ! what a pill for the 
good matrons who had coupled my 
image with that of some filial Mary 
or Jane, — ^ha ! ha ! ha I the triumph 
was almost worth the mortification. 
However, as I said before, I fell melan- 
choly on it, especially as my duns 
became menacing. So, I went to 
consult with my cousin the bookseller; 
he recommended me to compose for 
the journals, and obtained me an 
offer. I went to work veiy patiently 
for a short time, and contracted some 
agreeable Mendahips with gentlemen 
whom I met at an ordinuy in St. 
James's. Still, my duns, though I 
paid them by driblets, were the plague 
of my life : I confessed as much to 
one of my new friends. ' Come to 
Bath with me,' quoth he, 'for a week, 
and you shall return as rich as a Jew.' 
I accepted the offer, and went to Bath 
in my friend's chariot. He took the 
name of Lord Dunshunner, an Irish 
peer who had never been out of Tip- 
perary, and was not therefore likely 
to be known at Bath. He took also 
a house for a year, filled it with wines, 
books, and a sideboard of plate : as 
he talked vaguely of setting up (at 
the next parliament) for the town, 
he bought these goods of the towns- 
people, in order to encourage their 
trade : I managed secretly to transport 
them to London and sell them ; and 
as we disposed of them fifty per 
cent, under cost price, our customers, 
the pawnbrokers, were not reiy 



PAITL CLIFFOBD. 



inqniiitim W4 liv«d a jolly life at 
Bi^ for a couple of montiu, and de- 
pvted one nighty leavmg our house- 
keeper to auiwer all interrogatories. 
We had taken the pieoaution to wear 
dJagwsei; stuffed oonelTes out> and 
changed the huea of our hair: my 
noble friend was an adept in these 
tanaformations, and though -the po- 
Bee .did^not sleep on the bufliness^ — 
theiy neyer stumbled on us. I am 
espeeiaUf glad we wwe not disooyered, 
for >I 'liked Bath exeesaiyely, and I 
intcBdj tto return thensome of these 
dayB(;and relire fiom the werld^— en 
an^hcBianl 

''W^U; Paul, shcxrtly after thk ad- 
TWtteDa^ I made your aoquaintaaee. 
IroontiBDed ostensibly n^ Utoiary 
poefe8Bion,bat' only a» a mask for the 
laboMS I did Hot proiMSi' Acifeum- 
rtmeet obliged me^to leave London 
xatbeRproeipitatefy. Lofd'Dunslran- 
ner jodned me in Edinlmigfai D ■ 
itp'iniitead of doing anything thsnf we 
wne * dona I The veriest urchin that 
ei«F ^aegA, Ahvough > the H%h Street is 
mon iheiL.a. matoh for< the most 
mtelific ofBni^hikiett. With us 
itiaaBh:;. with the Bootoh it isnatore. 
Thlg^ pick yeorpodcets, without using 
ihek fingers for it ; and they prevtent 
reprisal^ by hadng. nothing for yen 
tapiek*. 

''We left Edinbuish with yery 
long&oes^ and at Carlisle we found, it 
nadB88ai7/to.vB^aiate. Formypart^ 
I irestaa a.yaiet. toa nobleBsan. who 
hai^uaUortius but serrant^atCsrliale 
hj a leyer : my frtend ga?e. me the best 
ofuiBfaaniQters i My new maimer was 
a nraign cleyer man.' HeastonidM 
pec^ie at dinner by ibe impromptus 
heprepared at braakfiot ;— in a word^ 
hewaa a wit. He soon saw^ for he 
mm leamed himself^ that I had re- 
eoDMd « elassieal edueation, and he 
emploTed me in the eoMfidential eapa^ 
Gify.of finding quotatiooB forhbn. 
I . elaned these- alphabetieaUy and 
nBdes.ihree>heaaac ' PHriiiaftentBiiy 



liteTBxy, Dining-out' These^ were 
again subdivided, into. 'Fine/' — 
' Leaned/ and ' Jocular;' so tiiai my 
master loiew at onee where to refer 
for genius, wisdom, and wit. He was 
delighted with my manageme&t of 
his mteUeeta. In eeupliment to him, 
I paid more aUeriion to politics than 
I had done before, for he was a 'great 
Whig/ and uncommonly liberal in 
every thing, — but money) Hence, 
Paid, the origin of my politieal prin- 
ciples ; and, I thank Heaven, there is 
not now a rogue in Engbmd who is a 
better, thai is to s^r, more «f a mode- 
rate. Whig than your humUoservant ! 
I continued witii him neatly a year. 
He discharged me ior a fimlt wntiiy 
of my genius,-H>ih6r servants may 
lose the wateh or the coat of their 
master; I went at nobler game and 
lost hiin*--4c»iirMNite'CftariN(sr.^'" 

" How^ do you meaa^*^ 

" Why, I waa enamoured of a la^ 
who would' not bav9 looked at mo as 
Mr. Tomlinaon ; sol tookmy master's 
olothe^ and oeoasionaily hia^ careiage, 
and made love to* my nymph, as 

Lord ^ % Her vanity made her in- 

disoreet. The Toiypapen got^hokl 
of it J and my master, in a change of 
ministers, was declared by Oeorge 
the Thkd to bo 'toogagr fofta Chan- 
cellor of the ExchequMT.^ An' old 
gentleman who had had fiftees chU- 
dnn by a wife like a ^kwgon, was 
chosen instead- of my master $ and 
although the new minister was a fool 
in his -publit capaoityf the- moral 
pubUowere perfeetiiy content wi& 
him^ because of his j9rtMBf9vif4iie^ 

" My master was forioiis, .made the 
stiictest inquisy, founi'iatt oat> and 
tkom/td-mt out toe4 

" A Whig not in place has an«excQBe 
foi^ disliking the constltutien. My 
distress almost made me a rq^ublioan ; 
buty tniO'to my creed, I must conftss 
that I woidd only have levelled up- 
wards, I especially disafifeeted the 
iiM^tiiaiyi^of.ri<fae»: I tooked moodily 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



5S 



on eywy cantogcrtiittt paned i I efrnt 
firowned lik# a fieeottd CltliluM at ilM 
BtOBiB' of « g6&tleaiaa% kitehM I K;f 
last tiilttaillMfr had not been lucratife; 
I had-lA^^tedmy^ perq^ieltM/ in axf 
affiiottr f(Mr poU«ica» My master^ too, 
refoaad to gim iB6««lHM0ter r— ^beo 
would take me without one-f 

^I WW flfikiAg m^wtf'ilila* melan- 
cbdy ques^ou one- moviiAng^wlMtt I 
gaddai ily 0n<Mttit6i^^»oeofthefi]ke 
frtenite^I had' picked uj^ at^Bsy old 
hMuil9tth« ord^ttrjr, in -St. • JatfieBTft 
Bid name was Fepfm^ 

« Pi^>pci'?» criadPattl. 

Without^ hMdiflg iik&^wikmaAkwi, 
Tomlitoon ccattflified/ 

" Wi went t4 a tav«ni and draidt it 
bottle together/ Wtne mad6 me eem- 
mnnieatliye ;^ it also openfld my com- 
radcAi heatt^' Be^afik^ me totak^ a 
ride witb hfts^ that- night towards 
Bomifllow : I did 80>> a&d found' a 

«Hbw fortunate! Whewt* 
« Inia geatlemaa^ pcksk«t. — ^I wmb 
BO'pleaeed with my Inek, that I w^it 
the (Mam road twitoe a-wdek^ in order 
to fle# if I could piek up any met^ 
purtes.' Fate &TOtt>ed mo^ and I 
liiH^'fot a long time the^life of the 
blest. Oh, Paul, you know not— you 
kMNrnot what a gieiriouB^ ^fb is that 
of a higfadfaynan : but you shall taiite 
it^ioae^ of i3am»"daf8>y you- sh^l^ on 

" I norw liveil 1H«h a tlth of honest 
ftfiownf W6' caUed ounelres 'The 
ExduslTeg,' foir we were mighty re- 
served in our astfootetee; and .only 
tileee who did* busSnesfr^on a grand 
seale wef«ai&Qaitted«into our ftet# F6r 
ni^faii, with all my lore for my pr^ 
fes^on, I Uked ingennity still betteJt 
than forae, and- profefered' what the 
▼nlgar cafi swindling, even 'to the 
higltfoad;' On an expedition of this 
sovt, I rode onee id^a eonntiy tows, 
sad' saw a crowd aseeiBUed' in » one 
conMr/«-«I johied ity andr-^ess my 
feelings ! ^^ beh^d my poor Mend, 



Yifeeennt DiHuihnaner, Juatabeut tobe 
hanged! Iiodeeff as fhst as I could, 
-—I thougirt I Ba#> Jade Keleh at my 
heels. KyhoiKiethyewiinatahedge, 
and I broke my oollsM>OBe. In the 
oenftneineiit that«MHi<id, gtoomy ideas 
flouted before HHSt I did net like to 
be hanged I w f reasened agamst my 
errom, and • repeiitted.' I reoovered 
dewly^ retiffMd4o> t(ywn,^ftnd fepaii«d 
ton^coQsintheboohBeller.' To say 
ti^th, I had^i»h9«d him a Mttle trick ; 
oolleeted cwtte debts of >his by a mia- 
take— very naidtral in the conftision 
inddekKt on my di> fa! l ofl W». However, 
he waa extremely nnkind- about it; 
and the mistalM', nataraft -asi it wafl> 
had coBt^me hiti aequalntaneei 

" I went> now^^to hikn with the 
l>e]iM«n1ial aspeet^ the ptodigal son, 
and| 'fiilth,- h4 would not have made 
a bad represextttf^on 'Of tlM &lited calf 
about to be 'killed eo my return : so 
oerpulettt looked he, and so dejeeted 1 
< Graceleasv reptebite!' he began; 
' yonf pooTJ father is dead !' I was 
exoeedingly flJh«elMd1 btft^^^ieverlsar, 
Paol, I am^not abefrt»-to be pathetic. 
My jfiGVlherhiid- divided hk fortune 
ameng all his>eMkbfen I n^ 0hat« was 
5001. Thei. pesseaiden^f thief sum 
made my penMeHee-eeeift^BtBdk more 
sinoem in the eyea^ef my^goed cousin ! 
and 'Bii^iP % very pathetie scene, he 
took mei onee mer«^ iitto^ ftivonr. I 
now-consuUtod. wM him as^ to the 
best methdd'Of laykfg>oilt my capital 
9ssiA receverliff- iny charaoter. We 
eofM. not devkteanj^scAeme at the 
first cooJ^seneeji bnt the-seoond time 
I saw- him> my «onsiB<^satd w^ « 
cheerful eonn1enaii9», ' Cheer up, 
At^fttstOB, 'I hir^go« theei a situation. 
iKGr. A&grav«> thev baatef>, w9l take 
tiiee as^a^ deapk. : fier4a a most worthy 
man; and hanrlngia^ vast dea^oflearfl]b• 
ing, he wffl Teipect th#» for thy ac- 
quiAmtsKft/ Th^^8a»» day I was 
intrdduted 40i'Mlf. Asgiave^ who was 
a Utile man with^k fine bald benevolent 
head; and after a long convwaation 



JM5 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



which he ms pleased to hold with me, 
I became one of his qnill-driTere. I 
don 't know how it was, bat by little 
and little I rose in my master's good 
gnces : I piopitiftied him, I &ncy, by 
dispofiing of my 5002. according to his 
advice : he Udd it out for me, on what 
he said was fionons security, on a 
landed estate. Mr. Asgraye was of 
social habits, — ^he had a capital house 
and excellent wines. As he was not 
yeiy particular in his company, nor 
ambitious of yisiting the great, he 
often BuflSsred me to make one of his 
table, and was pleased to hold long 
aigumentswith me about the andents. 
I soon found out that my master was 
a great moral philosopher; and being 
myself in woik health, sated with 
the ordinaiy pursuits of the world, in 
which my experience had forestalled 
my yean, and naturally of a oontem- 
platiye temperament, I turned my 
attention to the monl studies which 
so fiwriuated my employer. I read 
through nine shdves foil of metaphy- 
sicians, and knew exactly the points in 
which those illustrious thinkers quar- 
relled with each other, to the great 
advance of the science. My master 
and I used to hold many a long dis- 
cussion about the nature of good and 
evil ; and as by help of his benevolent 
forehead, and a dear dogged Toice, he 
always seemed to our audience to be 
the wiser and better man of the two, 
he was very well pleased with our 
disputes. This gentleman had an only 
daughter, an awful shrew with a fiice 
like a hatchet : but philosophers oyer- 
come personal defects ; and thinking 
only of the good her wealth might 
enable me to do to my fellow-creatures, 
I secretly made lore to her. Tou will 
say, that was playing my master but 
a scurvy trick in return for his kind- 
ness : not at all, my master himself 
had convinced me, that there was no 
such virtue as gratitude. It was an 
error of vulgar moralists. I yielded in 
his arguments, and at length privately 



I espoused his daughter. The day 
after this took place, he summoned 
I me to his study. ' So, Augustus^' said 
he yeiy mildly, 'you have married 
my daughter: nay, never look con- 
fused; I sawa long time ago that you 
were resolved to do so, and I was veiy 
gUdofit.' 

" 1 attempted to fidter out some- 
thing like thanks. ' Never int^rupt 
me ! ' said he. ' I had two reasons 
for being glad: — l8t> Because my 
daughter was the plague of my lifo, 
and I wanted some one to take her off 
my hands ; — 2dly, Because I required 
your assistance on a particular point, 
and I could not venture to ask it of 
any one but my son-in-law. In fine, 
I wish to take you into partnership !! !' 

" * Partnership!' cried I, foiling on 
my knees. ' Noble — generous man ! ' 

" 'Stay a bit,' continued my fother^ 
in-law. ' What ftmds do you think 
requisite for carrying on a bank 1 Tou 
look puzzled ! Not a shilling ! Ton 
will put in just as much as I do. Tou 
will put in rather more ; for you once 
put in five hundred pound.% which 
has been spent long ago. / don 't put 
in a shilling of my own. I live on my 
clients, and I very wUlingly offer you 
half of them!' 

" Imagine, dear Paul, my astonish- 
ment, my dismay ! I saw myself mar- 
ried to a hideous shrew — son-in-law 
to a penniless scoundrel, and cheated 
out of my whole fortune I Compare 
this view of the question with that 
which had blazed on me when I con- 
templated being son-in-law to the rich 
Mr. A^grave. I stormed at first. 
Mr. Asgiave took up Bacon On the 
AdvancemeiU of Learmng, and made 
no reply till I was cooled by explo- 
sion. Tou will perceive that, when 
passion subsided, I necessarily saw 
that nothing was left for me but 
adopting my fother-in-law's proposal. 
Thus, by the fotality which attended 
me, at the very time I meant to 
reform, I was forced into scoundrelism. 



PAUL CLIFFOBD. 



57 



and I w&B driyen into defiranding 
a vast number of x>erson8 by the 
aocident of being son-in-law to a great 
moralist. As Mr. Asgrave was an 
indolent man, who passed his morn- 
ings in speculations on virtue, I was 
made the active partnei;. I spent the 
.day at the counting-house; and when 
I came home for recreation, my wife 
acxatched my eyes out." 

'' But were you never recognised as 
' the stranger/ or ' the adventurer,' in 
your new capacity 1 " 

"No; for, of course, I assumed, in 
all my changes, both aliases and dis- 
^ises. And, to tell you the truth, 
my marriage so altered me that, what 
with a snuff-coloured coat and a brown 
scratch wig, with a pen in my right 
«ar, I looked the very picture of staid 
respectability. My fiu^ grew an inch 
longer every day. Nothing is so 
respectable as a long face ! and a sub- 
dued expression of coimtenance is the 
49nrest sign of commercial prosperity. 
Well, we went on splendidly enough 
for about a year. Meanwhile I was 
wonderfully improved in philosophy. 
You have no idea how a scolding wife 
sublimes and rarifies one's intellect. 
Thunder clears the air, you know! 
At length, unhappily for my &me (for 
I contemplated a magnificent moral 
history of man, which, had she lived 
a year longer, I should have com- 
pleted), my wife died in child-bed. 
My father-in-law and I were talking 
over the event, and finding fault with 
civilisation, by the enervating habits 
of which women die of their children, 
instead of bringing them forth without 
being even conscious of the circum- 
atance; — when a bit of paper, sealed 
awry, was given to my partner : he 
looked over it — ^finished the discus- 
sion, and then told me our bank had 
atopped payment. ' Now, Augustus,' 
said he, lighting his pipe with the bit 
of paper, ' you see the good of having 
nothing to lose 1 ' 

" We did not pay quite sixpence in 



the pound; but my partner was 
thought so unfortunate that the 
British public raised a subscription 
for him, and he retired on an annuity, 
greatly respected and very much com- 
passionated. As I had not been so 
well known as a moralist, and had 
not the prepossessing advantage of a 
bald Itenevolent head, nothing was 
done for me, and I was turned once 
more on the wide world, to monJise 
on the vicissitudes of fortune. My 
cousin the bookseller was no more, 
and his son cut me. I took a garret 
in Warwick Court, and, with a few 
books, my only consolation, I endea- 
voured to nerve my mind to the 
future. It was at this time, Paul, that 
my studies really availed me. I 
meditated much, and I became a true 
philosopher, vis. a practical one. My 
actions were henceforth regulated by 
principle; and, at some time or other, 
I will convince you, that the road of 
true morals never avoids the pockets 
of your neighbour. So soon as my 
mind had made the grand discovery 
which Mr. Asgrave had made before 
me, that one should live according to 
a system, — for if you do wrong, it is 
then your system that errs, not you, — 
I took to the road, without any of 
those stings of conscience which had 
hitherto aimoyed me in such adven- 
tures, I formed one of a capital knot 
of ' Free Agents,' whom I will intro- 
duce to you some day or other, and 
I soon rose to distinction among 
them. But, about six weeks ago, 
not less than formerly preferring by- 
ways to highways, I attempted to 
possess myself of a carriage, and sell 
it at discount. I was acquitted on 
the felony; but sent hither by Justice 
Bumflat on the misdemeanour. Thus 
far, my young friend, hath as yet 
proceeded the life of Augustus Tom- 
linsoiL" 

The history of this gentleman made 
a deep impression on Paul. The im- 
pression was strengthened by the 



58 



PAUL CUEVGKD. 



oonverMlImB • Bnbfleqaently holdan 
wlih -AngofllMi. THt worthy w» a 
cUaig«roiiB and sabtte persuader. He 
liad reftlly md » good deal «f hietoiy, 
and Homethkig of morals; and he 
had an ing^ons way of d^ending 
his nuMally prsolioes by- s^le^smB 
from the latler^ aaid esnonpleB from the • 
formAr; Theae theorle»'^e elenohed^ 
as it were; by a refefSBce io^ the* 
ezitftkigpolitk»of4lifeday. GhesteiB 
of th#^pnbKc, on iBkne^ pfeteneea, 'he 
w«9 ' phMuaed' to term ' " moderate 

Wh4ff»^" biillyin^'deiaaadenof yo«r 
pnrse w«« " high* Tories f' and thiev^ 
ing in -gaafegs^ w»v •" ^hff^ efifOt qf-^^ 
gpirU- of 'pBorf^,** Were wa» this 
diftnnee belweiett Avgnstiis Tomiib- 
son '^aad ' Long" Ked; Ned>'wn tiie> 
aeting* kaiave ; AiAg«rtiiB$-thereaB(»- 
ii%(Mie; aadf w&-may> fie6> tfaeKftxhd, 
by a Uttto tefl^etion; that Tdnriinsott 
wa8>«i&rniore p«41aii0 companion 
than Pepper,* fon ehowy theories are 
ahni^w merer sedactivo • to -^^e* young 
and - Qlifmt ^than*' smuiA^ve examples, 
and tbe'vanity of thevyowlMil makes 
then beMor pleased* by being con- 
Tineed'of ' a filing, than* by bdng 
eottead'toritii 

A dfl^^rtMFOitffceFtlfe nitR«tit«rof 
Mri;.^eailinsDn, Paul was aga&n^visfted 
by Mirtk Lobkifi»; for the regriations 
againt-' fraqnent yishors^' yrwv n0t 
th«i so «ttictiy enforced as we nnder- 
stSBtd them to be -ncDW ,* and the good 
daaote^ame to.deplere the ill sneeess' 
ef lito iatevviewwitili Jnslico Bnrn- 
flsb 

- W^ spam* th« tender-hearted reader 
a detaH of tbe affecting 'kitertiewthat' 
eneaedk ^ Iitdeed, it was* hot a repe- 
titieH' of "'tiier- <HLe we havv' before 
namkfeed/ We shall only say^ as- a 
pzoef *ef 'Patol^B' teodeRiem of heart, 
that^wbett'he•t09k•'lea1peof the good- 
]XHrtrott/*«iid baide^^' God blen her/' 
his voice filtered, and the tears stood 
in>his'eyeerH*^ "(^ th«y were- wont 
to do in tfao eyes of€HBorge the Third, 
when th&t exeelleiit monarch was 



pkamd ^raoMuHf to- eneatfe " God 
save tile Emg V 

" 1 11 be hanged,** soHlocpflaed odr 
hero, as he- slowly bent his eonrse 
towards the sobile" Angmius^*^" 1 11 
be- hanged (hifinpli^ thfO-dfliraiidation 
is prophetic)) if I don't fold as grata* 
fill- to t^ old'lady for her eai« of me 
astf8hehadnererill-Med<aBeL^ Asfor 
my parents, I beMev« I hanro tttlio to be 
grateftil'lbf; orprottd^ef, in thM^ quar- 
tei\' Wf poor-ffiothei^ byaB^ooDttnts, 
seems scarcely to havo^had' ef«n 
tho^brote fii^tfe of matoraali toider- 
ness* and in all hn«Btti«"iikdlihood 
I shall nearer know<wlMliier I had 
one fatiiM: or fifty. Bwi wfaar^matlBia 
it? I rather dike the bettor -to be 
independeMt,' aad| afttr.all^ whai4o 
nme-ieBths ot ns ever get ftxah. 'Ortr 
pneaets batatf i^fy'nariiB^«w*«dHee 
whleh/4f ire follow,- we aivwretekoi^ 
---and' if wenejglBet) w^»iMr dlito- 
herited'l*^ 

Ooarf^MTting hli«wif«'wtt& theis 
thoughts; wyc^ pevhspa^took thefa: 
pMlesophaoal eompleaeioift fiinii' the 
cett¥efM^ns- he had^krtely hlftd with 
Aagastus^and yAA^- brokevoff Jinto 
the smlterod abf:'of 

*< Wh}i should we quanwl for riohos %** 

Panl repaired to his^cttflMlfKry Biro- 
catioitt. 

In th* third week of oar iiero^ 
captivil^, Tomlinson cottttraiiieated 
to him a plair of eseapo'that had 
occurred to his-fis^acioin bAdn. In 
th^ yard' appropriated' to*theanM80- 
nxents of thegenlSemeir^ misdemeatt- 
ing," there wns'^a 'W«lei>^{)Ape''thait, 
sldrtsag the«widl> pffised dtera'door, 
through whicAi, eterf monih%; tfre 
pionseaptlrei-passed,*^ in their way*lM> 
the ehuipel. By thir, TdStolinsoii "pro- 
posed to esca^? fof^-to tho-pipie 
whleh TeaoiNd-from- th« idoor tO'the 
wall> in aslanfeing^andea^r direction, 
thew wa» a «ort' of ^skfrting^'lfoard'; 
and a dexterous and nimble main 
m^fht readily, by the hdp of this 



PAUL CUFFOBD. 



iHMrd, convey hhoMtf akmgr the pipe, 
imfcil the ptogiwef that nieliil cfla^ 
dactor (whiBh' jtm hi^pi^ Teiy bri«f) 
•wm -fitopfod by the mnmiiit of the 
iraU^ when it found • a Beqvel in 
aaetiMxt pipe, that dfleeended to the 
gxomdiOiitiieopponteaideofthewall. 
Kov> on-thiscoppesite aide was tlie 
garden of the priaon.^ in i*hia> gaiden 
watt.a WBtehman ^ andthia wstdunan* 
waa. th« hobgoUioi of Tamlin8on'«i 
Bdtmau^ ** For/snppoae vs safe in- the 
garden," said he, " what shall we do 
with this confounded fellow 1" 

" Bttt.that is not all," added Paul ;< 
*' for even were there no watchman,i 
iheittiwaieKrililewati^ which I noted. 
eq>ecially last nmkiy whea-we were 
80liia>9n3i^'iii/ihe ^pardeii, and which 
has no pipcy^aofea peipendieslar one, 
thatAJBaft nmal^hsFethe l^ga of a fly 
toibaiaMbtocfiBAr' 

" Mb nwa l'» lekudM&'TianMnaMi : 
'' I iritti shoir-you how to( climb the 
8t«bhenN«t«'Widlin^ Christendom', if 
one Jiaa^'bnfevtha* coast deur: it is 
ttaewaAi^iiBnHv^-tite wsiebmia% we 



"Whatr ailBMi Panl^ obaerviBg; 
his ooaumde <did nelp eondnde^the 



It» was «oai»^tiiiie> belbre the sa^ 
Angnrtasjt^Uedtj he<^«tt 8ald,i&a 
iDDBaing t<xte*^^ ■ 

''I have beentthinldiig/ Peal, 
whetheti tt woidd^ be icoaaiitent wHh 
yirtaeyand thatetReteode of monds 
by wMofa all*my aotiooid ava regidated, 
tONHali^r the wHtcfaskan t'* 

** Qoed heavflur* enedP«i]^.h«p- 

'' Aad I have deoMod,'^ coatinved 
Anyilfaiiyt soleMn^y, wMioat' r^gud 
tDth»«xciniiatMn, '' th»t the aotieo; 
wetOd be pe^fBctiy jostiliabiel " 

'< YiUaial" ezdaiiiied Pattl, reoefii^ 
ing to thee^er end of the4rtioiie boK 
-^f(tr it w«» night)r^iii which th^ 
#aFe cooped. • 

'' Bdty" pvsoed ' Augostos) who 
aeeaiedaolileqviflifli^ aad whose T»ee, 



Bounding eaim and thosghtfti], like 
Yoimg^s in the fiunoaa monologae in 
Hamiet, denoted that he heeded not 
the tineoarteona intemiptien— '^ bnt 
<^inion dees not always inflnenee 
oondeot; and although it may be 
▼irtaons to mnrdsr ^e watchman, 
I have not'the hoaii to do it. I tmat 
in my fdtoie hislevy I shall not, by 
disoeming moialitts, be too sermly 
oensvied for a waafauMofor which my 
physical temperameat is alone to 
bbme!'' 

Despite the tnm of the aoiUoqtiy, it 
wflsta long time before Fanl ooald be 
reoonciled to fovther ooanrenHtion 
with Augostua^' and it waa only tcmn, 
the belief that the moralist had leaned 
to- the jesting Tekb that he at length 
ACS— l ed the ooBsidtation. 

The cou^intots did- net, however, 
bring their Bchemev that aijg^t to any 
nhimate decision. The next- day, 
AngnstttSy Paul,' and some othen of 
the company, were set to w<Hrk in the 
gardes j and Pavlthev' jbaerved that 
his^ead, wheeling a lArrow close by 
the spot wheie the. watchman stood, 
o^Bertomed ita couteuts. The wateh- 
man • waa geed-natured enough to 
assist iiim in leftUing the barrow ; and 
TomlinaoB profited so well by the oc- 
casion, tfaat^ tibat nighty he informed 
Paul, that Ihey would ha¥e nothing to 
dread from th* watchman's vigilance. 
"Hehaa pmmised," said Ai^paattts, 
''for certain^ con*side»ra4i-ona^ to 
allowme to knock him down } he has 
also promised to-be so nrach hnrt^ as 
net to be able to < move^' until we are 
over the wall. Our main diffleall^ 
newrtheay is, the ^first- step, — namely, 
te climb the pipe unpeioeiired J " 

" As to that," said Panl, whodeve- 
lopedy thiough the whole of the 
seheuey oigana of sagaei^, badness, 
SAd inyentKon, which <diarmed his 
friend^ andcwtamly promdsed well 
for his'firtiire caieer y^** as to that,. I 
think^ we may manage the first ascent 
with lesadanger than yon imagine: 



60 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



the mornings, of late, have been very 
foggy; they are almost dark at the 
hour we go to chapel. Let you and I 
close the file: the pipe passes just 
above the door; our hands, as we 
have tried, can reach it ; and a spring 
of no great agility will enable us to 
raise ^ourselves up to a footing on the 
pipe and the skirting-board. The 
climbing, then, is easy; and, what 
with the dense fog, and our own 
quickness, I think we shall have little 
difficulty in gaining the garden. The 
only precautions we need use are, to 
wait for a very dark morning, and to 
be sure that we are the last of the file, 
60 that no one behind may give the 
alarm " 

" Or attempt to follow our example, 
and spoil the pie by a superfluous 
pluml" added Augustus. "Tou 
counsel admirably; and one of these 
days, if you are not hung in the 
meanwhile, will, I venture to argue, 
be a great logician." 

The next morning was clear and 
frosty ; but the day after was, to use 
Tomlinson's simile, " as dark as if all 
the negroes of AMcahad been stewed 
down into air." "You might have 
cut the fog with a knife," as the pro- 
verb says. Paul and Augustus could 
not even see how, significantly each 
looked at the other. 

It was a remarkable trait of the 
^ring temperament of the former, 
that, young as he was, it was fixed 
that he shonld lead the attempt. At 
the hour, then, for chapel — ^the pri- 
soners passed as usual through the 
door. When it came to Paul's turn, 
he drew himself by his hands to the 
pipe, and then creeping along its 
fiinuouB course, guned the watt before 
he had even fetched his breath. 
Bather more clumsily, Augustus fol- 
lowed his friend's example : once his 
foot slipped, and he was all but over. 
He extended his hands involuntarily, 
imd caught Paul by the leg. Happily 
our hero had then gained the waU to 



which he was clinging, and for once 
in a way, one rogue raised himself 
without throwing over another. Be- 
hold Tomlinson and Paul now seated 
for an instant on the wall to recover 
breath ! the latter then, — ^the descent 
to the ground was not very great, — 
letting his body down by his hands, 
dropped into the garden. 

** Hurt ] " asked the prudent Augus- 
tus in a hoarse whisper before he 
descended from his " bad eminence," 
being even willing 

•' To bear those Ols he had. 
Than fly to others that he knew not of,** 

without taking every previous pre- 
caution in his power. 

" No 1 " was the answer in the same 
voice, and Augustus dropped. 

So soon as this latter worthy had 
recovered the shock of his &11, he lost 
not a momemt in running to the 
other end of the garden: Paul fol- 
lowed. By the way Tomlinson stopped 
at a heap of rubbish, and picked up 
an immense stone ; when they came 
to the part of the wall they had agreed 
to scale, they found the watchman, 
about whom they needed not, by the 
by, to have concerned themselves; 
for had it not been arranged that he 
was to have met them, the deep fog 
would have efiectually prevented him 
from seeing them : this faithful guar- 
dian Augustus knocked down, not 
with the stone, but with ten guineas ; 
he then drew forth from his dress a 
thickish cord which he had procured, 
some days before, from the turnkey, 
and fastening the stone firmly to one 
end, threw that end over the wall. 
Now the wall had (as walls of great 
strong^ mostly have) an overhanging 
sort of battlement on either side, and 
the stone, when flung over and drawn 
to the tether of the cord to which 
it was attached, necessarily hitched 
against this projection ; and thus the 
cord was, as it were, fastened to the 
wall, and Tomlinson was enabled by 



PAUL CLIPEORD. 



W 



it to draw himself up to the top of 
the barrier. He performed this feat 
with gymnastic address, like one who 
had often practised it; albeit, the 
discreet adventurer had not men- 
tioned in his narratiye to Paul any 
previous occasion for the practice. As 
soon as he had gained the top of the 
wall, he threw down the conl to his 
companion, and, in consideration of 
Paul's inexperience in that manner 
of climbing, gave the &8tening of 
the rope ^an additional security by 
holding it himself. With slowness 
and labour Paul hoisted himself up ; 
and then, by transferring the stone 
to the other side of the wall, where it 
made, of course, a similar hitch, our 
two adventurers were enabled suc- 
cessively to slide down, and consum- 
mate their escape from the house of 
correction. 

" Follow me now I" said Augustas, 
as he took to his heels; and Paul 
pursued him through a labyrinth of 
alleys and lanes, through which he 
shot and dodged with a variable and 
shifting celerity that, had not Paul 
kept close upon him, would very soon 
(combined with the fog) have snatched 
him from the eyes of his young ally. 
Happily the immaturity of the morn- 
ing, the obscurity of the streets passed 
through, and, above all, the extreme 
darkness of the atmosphere, prevented 
that detection and arrest which their 
prisoners' garb would otherwise have 
insured them. At length, they found 



themselves in the fields ; and, skulk- 
ing along hedges, and diligently 
avoiding the highroad, they continued 
to fly onward, until they had advanced 
several miles into " the bowels of the 
land." At that time "the bowels" 
of Augustus Tomlinson began to 
remind him of their demands; and 
he accordingly suggested the desira- 
bility of their seizing the first peasant 
they encountered, and causing him 
to exchange clothes with one of the 
fugitives, who would thus be enabled 
to enter a public-house and provide 
for their mutual necessities. Paul 
agreed to this proposition, and, ac* 
cordingly, they watched their oppor- 
tunity and caught a ploughman. 
Augustus Stripped him of his frock, 
hat, and worsted stockings ; and Paul, 
hardened by necessity and compa- 
nionship, helped to tie the poor plough- 
man to a tree. They then continued 
their progress for about an hour, and, 
as the shades of evening fell around 
them, they discovered a public-house. 
Augustus entered, and returned in a 
few minutes laden with bread and 
cheese, and a bottle of beer. Prison 
fare cures a man of daintiness, and 
the two fugitives dined on these 
homely viands with considerable com- 
placency. They then resumed their 
journey, and at length, wearied with 
exertion, they arrived at a lonely 
haystack, where they resolved to 
repose for an hour or two. 



PAUL CLIFKOEP. 



OHAFTEB X. 

<* THOXkB the rlteld, wlmo UeentiooA Jest 
Pollotofl his baiiqiiet, and imolts hlsfOMt ; 
From wealth and gnmdeiir«u3r to 4M(Miid, 
«MW jor*at to hMvthe maatar in tb^Mand : 
Wajmmd thy board thp riiaerfait witala iai\ 
Gay with the smile of Uaad equality ; 
No fodal care the gncioua lord disdains : 
ham promyts to love, -andTeyerenoe revere n ce gBbn." 
^nranikMon tfhvcMM to Pno^ pr^beedto Ute T»^fOi Paper qf"T%e BamMeir**' 



OoTLT Blune down th« ba«hfiil ^iars 
upon our«adTieiitiir6a^«%aftera Bhort 
nap bekind the hagnrt«ck, ibej 
stietflb/ed th^naelreB, and, looking at 
each other, bont inio an invoLnnlazy 
and hilariona iavgh at the pros- 
perona tenuaation of their e2!ploit. 

Hitherto they had been too oor: 
pied, first by Uieir flight, then by 
hunger, then by iatigae, for aelf^grar 
tulation; now they rubbed their 
hands, and joked tike runaway school- 
boys, at their esc^M. 

By degrees their thopghts tuned 
from the past to the foture ; and " Tell 
me, my dear fellow,'' said AHgnstis, 
" what you intend to do. I trust I 
have long ago conyineed yen, that it 
Ib no sin 'to serve our friends * and to 
' be true to our party ; ' and there£ore, 
I suppose, you will decide upon taking 
to the road!" 

"It is very odd," answered Paul, 
** that I should hare any scruples left 
after your lectures on the subject ,* but 
I own to you frankly, that, somehow 
or other, I have doubts whether 
thieving be really the honestest pro- 
fession I could follow." 

''Idsten to me, Paul," answered 
Augustus; and his reply is not un- 
worthy of notice. " All crime and all 
excellence depend upon a good choice 
of words. I see you look puzzled ; I 
will explain. If you take money from 
the public, and say you have robbed, 
you have indubitably committed a 



great ensue ; but if you do thewme^ 
and say jou have been rdiemng As 
neeemitiea df ^ poor, yooihttroibiie 
an exo^lent aotion r i^ in -aftcrvnffda 
dividing this money with your 4xm- 
panions, you aay yon »fairve '>bean 
sharing booty, yon faMroeomiBiMedsn 
offence against the laws of yonroenn- 
tiy ; but if you o bca iT o Hkh^^tm^have 
been ehming wih pour Jrieetde ^the 
gaine o/pour Huitte6ry,youhkreihemk 
perfonning one of the noblest «ctai»8 
of humanity. To knock a ntanon tho 
head is neither tuluous nor gBltty, 
but it depends upon the iao^^nage 
applied to the action to makodtiaMi<- 
der or glory.* Why not say, then, 
that you have teatified ' the eonmge 
of a hero/ rather than 'Ae atredfy 
o/arufianf ThisispediBBtiy^lMr, 
is it not]" 
" It seoms so," ancnrared AoL 
''It is so self-evident, <tet it isiho 
way all gofieraaoBouts «re icuned-^mi. 
Wherefore, my good Paul, we only do 



* We ohserre in a paragraph from an 
American paper, copied without oomment 
into the Morning Chronicle, a wfngnlar 
proof of the truth of Tomlinson's philo- 
sophy. <* Mr. Rowland Stephenson (so 
runs the extract), the celebrated English 
banker, has Just purchased a consider- 
able tract of land,** fto. Most philosophical 
of paragraphists I *< CeMnrated EngliiHe 
banker I " that sentence is a better Ulnstra- 
tion of verbal fallacies than all Bentham's 
treatises put together. " Celebrated t ** O 
Mercury, what a dezteroos epithet ! 



?iMh.QUjnS{m>. 



68 



w}iai«Uotlierkgu]iiio»io. We«rf 
never rogaes bo Irag aawe call oar- 
B^lfseB honest feUons, and we maver 
0Qm«iit> » €iix»e so long, m we oaa 
tina it » visUiel -WWi My J»« 
now]" 

Paul jwiiled, anid was ^oat< a ibw 
XMDieuU 'before hoi replied : 

''Tlieie is Tei7.Uttle4o»btbQtibat 
y0«.are wnong ; yet if you arei so-are^ 
aU tbe^zest :of tthe mnid. It ia of no 
use to. be the^y wMte jsbeep of ihe 
flock. YTberefore^ my doar Toulin- 
Bon, I will in< fatme be. a& exoeUent 
citizen, rdUve 'tik neoamtks of (A«' 
jpoor, aad^Aortfi^Ai^^wtw^ qfmaf mokta- , 
ey^ vdih «.y frienda,'* i 

'^ Brayo 1" fined Tojoliafion. ''Joid 
now that Abat ia- settled, the sooner 
you v^ iBai:^prKtedtbe better. > Siace 
the atarj^ght >has shone lorth, I - see 
that I am .in a j^lace I ovght U>ihe 
T&rj well acquunted wUh ;' or, if jou- 
like to foe iHuq^ciona» youniay bdioTe 
that I h»re brought yon purposely in 
this direction : but first let.me ask if 
you lieel any gsreat desire to , psss the 
night by this haystack, or whether i 
you would like a song SAdthei punch- • 
bowl ajljnost as much as the open air, 
with the chance of being eat up in a 
pinch of hay by aome stroUing cow !" 

''You nmy conceire my choice/' 
answered PauL 

'* W^l, then, there is an exoellent 
fellow near here, who keeps a public- 
hous^ and is a' firm ally and gentvons 
patron of the lads of the cross. At, 
certain pedods they hold .weMj 
meetingfr at his house : this is .one of 
the nights. What say you 1 shall I; 
introduce you to the club V 

" I shall be very glad, if they wUl, 
admit me!" returned Paul, whom 
many and conflicting thoughts ren- 
dered Ifu^nic. 

" Oh ! no fear of that, under my 
audioes. To tell you the ;truth, 
thoagh we are a tolerant sect, we 
welcome every new proselyte with 
enthusiasm. But are you tired 'i " 



''A little;, the hMse^is not Ur, 
you say]" 

"About amile off,"an8veied9}om- 
linson. " Lean ttn^n^" 

OHr wandiiien> Aow iawjing .the 
iiaiaitaiski [rtrookatsros^ part-of Finch- 
ley ^Common ; .for the abode /of the 
worthy puhljoan wa^ feUaitonaly^nta- 
ated, .and ihe soane in whioh .his 
g|M«fca^selebc«ted Ihteir fostivities/sas 
dose by. that on whi^/ th^ often 
performed their exploits. 

As they proceeded, PaoX^nestioned 
his friend touabing 4^0.. name «and 
chacaeter of 'fmine host;".«and the 
all-knowing Augustus Tomlinaan anr 
svFored hlm«..QuikorUk% l^y.a qoes- 
tionr— 

"Qaye you noirer heard of Qcmtle- 
nanGeoi^e]" 

''.What !. the noted head o£ a flash 
pnblicrhouse . in the countiy 1 To be 
sure I haTei.ioften; my poor nnrse, 
Dsme Iiobldns, used to say he waa 
th^- bast^spokon man tin the.tnMie 1" 

■' Ay, sorhe is < still. In his yonth^ 
(koige was. & very hmdaomA lellow» 
bat a little too l9nd ol his.laBS and hia 
bottle to pleasethis &ther, a veiy staid 
old gentlomaiv who walked abont on 
Sundays in a..bob>wig ^and a gold- 
headed cane^andnwa a mneh. 'better 
fanner on week-days .than he -was 
head of a publio-honse. (aheorge used 
to be. a remarkably smart-dessaed 
fellow* and so he is to this day. He 
h"', a great desi of,wi<v is ft very good 
whist-piajser, has a i^i»tal cellar, and 
is so fond'of saeingrhis friends nhrunk, 
that he bought aome time ago a large 
pewter measure in which sixmen can 
stand npi ^ht. The girls, or rather 
the old women, to which last he used 
to be much more civil of the iwo, 
always liked him ,* they say, nothing 
is so fine as his fine speeches, and 
they give him the title of ' OenUeman 
George.' He is a nice^ kind-hearted 
man in many things. Pray Heaven 
we shall have no cause to miss him 
when. he departs. But, to -tell you 



64 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



the truth, he takes more than his 
share of our common purse." 

*' What, is he avaricious ? " 

" Quite the reverse ; but he 's so 
cursedly fond of building, he invests 
all Ms monej (and wants us to invest 
all (mra) in houses; and there's one 
confounded dog of a bricklayer, who 
runs him up terrible bills, — a fellow 
called ' Cunning Nat,' who is equally 
adroit in spoiling ground and im- 
proving ground rent." 

" What do you mean 1 * 

''Ah! thereby hangs a tale. But 
we are near the place now ; you will 
see a curious set." 

As Tomlinson said this, the pair 
approached a house standing alone, 
and seemingly without any other 
abode in the vicinity. It was of 
curious and grotesque shape, painted 
white, with a Gtothic chimney, a 
Chinese sign-post (on which was de- 
picted a gentleman fishing, with the 
words "The Jolly Angler" written 
beneath), and a porch that would 
have been Grecian, if it had not been 
Dutch. It stood in a little field, with 
a hedge behind it, and the common 
in front ! Augustus stopped at the 
door, and, while he paused, bursts of 
laughter rang cheerily within. 

"Ah, the merry boys!" he mut- 
tered: "I long to be with them!" 
and then with his clenched fist he 
knocked four times on the door. 
There was a sudden silence, which 
lasted about a minute, and was 
broken by a voice within, asking who 
was there. Tomlinson answered by 
some cabalistic word; the door was 
opened, aud a little boy presented 
himself. 

"Well, my lad," sidd Augustus, 
"and how is your master?— -Stout 
and hearty, if I may judge by his 
voice." 

"Ay, Master Tommy, ay, he's 
boosing away at a fine rate in the 
back-parlour, with Mr. Pepper and 
fighting Attie, and half-a-score more 



of them. He 11 be woundy glad to 
see you, 1 11 be bound." 

" Shew this gentleman into the 
bar," rejoined Augustus, " while I go 
and pay my respects to honest 
Geordie!" 

The boy made a sort of a bow, and 
leading our hero into the bar, con- 
signed him to the care of Sal, a buxom 
barmaid, who reflected credit on the 
taste of the landlord, and who received 
Paul with marked distinction and a 
gill of brandy. 

Paul had not long to play th« 
amiable, before Tomlinson rejoined 
him with the information that Gen- 
tleman George would be most happy 
to see him in the back-parlour, and 
that he would there find an old 
Mend in the person of Mr. Pepper. 

"What! is he here?" cried Paul. 
"The sorry knave f to let me be 
caged in his stead ! " 

" Gently, gently, no misapplication 
of terms," said Augustus; "that was 
not knavery, that was prudence, the 
greatest of all virtues and the rarest. 
But come along, and Pepper shall 
explain to-morrow." 

Threading a gallery or passage, 
Augustus preceded our hero, opened 
a door, and introduced him into a 
long low apartment, where sat, round 
a table spread with pipes and liquor, 
some ten or a dozen men, while at 
the top of the table, in an arm-chair, 
presided Gentleman George. That 
dignitary was a portly and comely 
gentleman, with a knowing look, and 
a Welsh wig, worn, as the Mominff 
Ohronide says of his Majesty's hat, 
" in a dSgagS manner, on one side." 
Being afflicted with the gout, his left 
foot reclined on a stool; and the 
attitude developed, despite of a lamb's- 
wool stocking, the remains of an 
exceedingly good leg. 

As Gentleman Geoigewas a person 
of majestic dignity among the Knights 
of the Cross, we trust we shall not be 
thought irreverent in applying a few 



PATTL CLIFFOBD. 



of the words bj irhicli the foresaid 
Morning Chronide depicted his Ma- 
jesty, on the day he laid the first 
stone of his fitther's monument, to 
the description of (Gentleman Qeoige. 

" He had on a handsome blue coat^ 
and a white waistcoat^' moreover, 
''he laughed most good-humouredly/' 
as, turning to Augustus Tomlinson, 
he saluted him with^- 

'' So, this is the youngster you pre- 
sent to us? — ^Welcome to the Jolly 
Angler! Give us thy hand, young 
sir ; — I shall be happy to blow a doud 
with thee." 

'*With all due submission,'* said 
Mr. Tomlinson, "I think it may first 
be as well to introduce my pupil and 
friend to his future companions." 

" You speak like a leaiy cove," cried 
Gentleman George, stUl squeezing our 
hero's hand; and, turning round in 
his elbow-chair, he pointed to each 
member, as he severally introduced 
his guests to Paul : 

"Here," said he,— "here's a fine 
chap at my right hand — (the person 
thus designated was a thin mUitary- 
looking figure, in a shabby riding 
frock, and with a commanding, bold, 
aquiline countenance, a little the worse 
for wear)~here 's a fine chap for you ; 
Fighting Attie we calls him : he 's a 
devil on the road. ' Halt— deliver — 
must and shall— can't and sha'nt — do 
as I bid you, or go to the devil,' — 
that's all Fighting Attie's palaver; 
and, 'sdeath, it has a wonderful way 
of coming to the point! A fiimous 
cull is my fnend Attie — an old sol- 
dier—has seen the world, and knows 
what is what ; has lots of gumption, 
and devil a bit of blarney. Howsom- 
ever, the highflyers doesn't like him ; 
and when he takes people's money, he 
need not be quite so cross about it ! — 
Attie, let me introduce a new pal to 
you." Paul made his bow. 

" Stand at ease, man ! " quoth the 
veteran, without taking the pipe from 
his mouths 

No. 25. 



Gentleman George then continued ; 
and, after pointing out four or five of 
the company (among whom our hero 
discovered, to his surprise, his old 
friends, Mr. Eustace Fitzherbert and 
Mr. William Howard Russell), came, 
at length, to one with a very red fuse, 
and a lusty frame of body. "That 
gentleman," said he, " is Scarlet Jem ; 
a dangerous fellow for a preaa, though 
he says he likes robbing alone now, 
for a general press is not half such a 
good thing as it used to be formerly. 
You have no idea what a hand at dis- 
guising himself Scarlet Jem is. He 
has an old wig which he generally 
does business in ; and you would not 
go for to know him again, when he 
conceals himself under ihe'vng. Oh, 
he's a precious rogue, is Scarlet Jem t 
— ^As for the cove on t'other side," 
continued the host of the Jolly Angler, 
pomting to Long Ned, " all I can say 
of him, good, bad, or indifferent, is, 
that he has an unkimmon fine head 
of hair : and now, youngster, as you 
knows him, spose you goes and sits 
by him, and hell introduce you to the 
rest; for, split my wig! (Gentleman 
Geoige was a bit of a swearer) if I 
ben't tired, and so here's to your 
health ; and if so be as your name's 
Paul, may you alway rob Peter* in 
order to pay Paul ! " 

This witticism of mine host's being 
exceedingly well received, Paul went> 
amidst the general laughter, to take 
possession of the vacant seat beside 
Long Ned. That tall gentleman, who 
had hitherto been cloud-compelling 
(as Homer calls Jupiter) in profound 
silence, now turned to Paul with the 
warmest cordiality, declared himself 
overjoyed to meet his old friend once 
more, and congratulated him alike on 
his escape from Bridewell, and his 
admission to the councils of Gentle- 
man George. But Paul, mindful of 
that exertion of "prudence" on the 



* Peter: a portmanteau. 



. PAUL CMFFOBD. 



pMrt of Mr. Pepper, by vbieh he had 
been left to his &te and the mercy of 
Justice Bamflat, received his ad- 
Tanoes very sullenly. This ooolness 
BO incensed Ned^ who was natozally 
dioleric, that he tnmed his back on 
onr hero, and being of an aristocratic 
Bpiiit, muttered something about 
^' npstart, and mlgar ely&kers being 
admitted to the company of swell 
tobymen." This mnrmnr called all 
Paul's blood into his cheek; for 
though he had been punished as a 
•dyfi&ker (or pickpocket)^ nobody knew 
better than Long Ned whether or not 
he was innocent; and a reproach from 
him came therdbre with double in> 
justice and sererity. In his wrath, 
he seized Mr. Pepper by the ear, 
and, tolUng him he was a shabby 
scoundrel, challenged him to fight. 

So pleasing an inyitation not being 
amiounoed sotto voce, but in a tone 
suited to the importance of the pro- 
position, evezy one around heard it ; 
and before I^ng Ned could answer, 
the fiill voice of Qentleman Qeorge 
thundered forth — 

'' Keep the peace there, you young- 
ster ! What 1 are you just admitted 
into our merry-makings, and must 
you be wrangling ab*eady? Haricye, 
gemmen, I have been plagued enough 
with your quarrels before now, and 
the first cove as breaks the present 
quiet of the Jolly Angler, shall be 
turned out neck and crop---6han't he, 
Attier 

'< Bight about, march," said the 
hero. 

« Ay, that's the word, Attie," said 
Gentleman George. "And now, Mr. 
Pepper, if there be any ill blood 
'twist you and the lad there, wash it 
away in a bumper of bingo, and let 's 
hear no more whatsomever about it" 

"I'm willing," cried Long Ned, 
with the deferential air of a courtier, 
and holding out his hand to Paul. 
Our hero, being somewhat abashed by 
the novelty of his situation and the 



rebuke of GenUemaaG^(ng<^aeoepted> 
though with some reluctanoe^ the pro- 
fened courtesy. 

Order h&ng thus restored, the con- 
versation of the eonvivialiats began to 
assume a most fiiseinating bias. They 
talked with infinite goAt of the sums 
th^ had levied on tibe public^ and the 
peenlations they had committed for 
what one called the ^' good <^ Ike com' 
mwnUy" and another, the ^ettor 
Mished order" — meanings themselves. 
It was eaqr to see in whi^ school the 
discerning Augustus Tomlinson had 
learned the value of words. 

There Was something edii^g in 
hearing the rascals ! . So nice was 
their language, and so honest their 
enthusiasm for their own interests, 
you might have imagined you were 
list^oiog to a coterie of cabinet minis* 
tors conferring on taxes, or debating 
on perquintes. 

" Long may the Commons flourish ! " 
cried punning Georgie, filling hisglass; 
" it is by the commons we 're fed, and 
may they never know cultiwation ! " 

" Three times three !" shouted Long 
Ned : and the toast was drunk as Mr. 
Pepper proposed. 

" A little moderate cultivation of 
the commons, to speak frankly," sud 
AugustusTomlinsonmodestly, "mi^ 
not be amiss; for it would decoy people 
into the belief that they might travel 
safely; and, after all, a hedge or a 
barley-field is as good for us as a bar- 
ren heath, where we have no shelter 
if once pursued!" 

" You talks nonsense, you spooney ! " 
cried a robber of note, odled Bagshot ; 
who, being aged, and having been a 
lawyer's footboy, was sometimes deno- 
minated "Old Bags." " You talks 
nonsense; these innowating ploughs 
are the ruin of us. Every blade <^ 
com in a common is an encroachment 
on the constitution and rights of the 
gemmen highwaymen. I 'm old, and 
mayn't live to see these things; but, 
mark my words, a time will come 



PAUL CLIFPOBD. 



irhea a man may go from Limmin to 
Jolumy Groat's without losiiig a peuiy 
by one of us ; when Hounslow will be 
safe, and Finchl^ secure; My eyes^ 
what a sad thing for us that 11 be ! " 

The yenerable old man became sud- 
denly sUent, and the tears started to his 
eyes. Qentlenuin George had a gieat 
horror of blue derils, and partlcnlariy 
disliked all disagreeable subjects. 

''Thunder and oons. Old Bags!" 
quoth mine host of the Jolly Angler, 
"this will noTer do: we're all met 
here to be merry, and not to listen to 
your muUancolly taratarantarums. I 
says, Ned Pepper, spose you tips us a 
song, and 111 beat time with my 
knuckles.'' 

Long ^ed, taking the pipe from his 
mouth, attempted, like Walter Scott's 
Lady Heron, one or two pretty excuses : 
these being dro¥med by an uniyersal 
shout, the handsome purloiner gare 
the following song, to the tune of 
'' Time li«« not thinned my flowing 
hair." 

LONG NED'S BONO. 



'* Oh, if my handa adhere to ouih. 

My glores at least are oleao. 

And rarely have the gentry flash 

In sprucer clothes been seen. 

2. 
Sweet Public, since your coffers 

Afford our wants relief, 
Oh ! sootiies it not to yield the dust 

To Bueh a ohaxming thief 7 



I never robbed a single coach 

But witii a lover's air ; 
And though you might my eourMrepioaobj 

You never oonld my hair, 

4. 

John BuU, who loves a hanBlen Joke» 

Is apt at me to grin. 
But why be cross with laughing folk. 

Unless they laugh and win ? 



1 Bull has money in his box ; 
And though his wit's divlne» 
Yet let me laugh at Johnny's loeltt^ 
And John may laugh at mine ! '* 



" 'And John may laugh aA mine,' 
excellent ! " cried Gentleman George, 
lighting his i^pe and winking at Attie, 
'' I hears as how you be a iiEunous 
feUow with the lassea." 

Ked smiled and answered,—'' No 
man should boast; but——" Pepper 
paused significantly, and then glanc- 
ing at Attle, saldr— " Talking of kuses, 
it is my turn to knook down a genUe- 
man for a song, and I knock down 
Fighting Attie." 

" I neyer sing," said the warrior. 

"Treason, treason," cried Pepper. 
" It is the law, and you must obey the 
law ; — so begin." 

" It is true, Attie," said Gentleman 
George. 

There was no appeal from the honest 
publican's fiat; so, in a quick and 
laconic manner, it being Attic's fa- 
vourite dogma, that the least said is 
the soonest mended, the warrior sung 
as follows: — 

FIGHTING ATTIE*9 SONG. 
Air^^* H« was famed for deeds of anna." 

" Rise at BU-4taie at two- 
Bob your man without ad(v- 
Such my maxims— if you doubt 
Their wisdom, to the right about ! " 
(Signing to a taUova gentkman on 
the same tide cf Me XaMe to tend 
up the brandp bowU) 
** Pais round the bingo,— of a gun. 
You musky, dusky, hutkp ton! "* 
{The tattowgentlemeuh in a koarte 
voice,) 
<• Attie— the bingo 's now with me, 
I can't resign it yet, d'ye see I ** 
{AUU, teizing the bowl,) 
•* Basign, resign it— oeaae your dust ! ** 

( Wretilng it awap, andflgrcdy re- 
garding the tallow genUenuxn.) 
« Yon have resign'd it— and you must." 

CHoaus. 
M You have resign'd it s a d yon must." 



* Much of whatever amusement might be 
occasioned by the not (we trust) ill-natured 
travesties of certain eminent characters in 
F 2 



PAITL CLIFFORD. 



While the chonu, laughing at the 
discomfited tippler^ yelled forth the 
emphatic words of the heroic Attley 
that pendnage emptied the brandy at 
a draught, resumed his pipe, and, in 
as few words as possible, 'called on 
Bagshot for a song. The excellent 
old highwayman, with great diffidence, 
obeyed the request, cleared his throat, 
and struck off with a ditty somewhat 
to the tune of " The Old Woman." 

OLD BAGS' SONG. 



** Are the days then gone, when on 1 

• low Heath . 

We flash'd our nagi ? 
When thestouteet botonu qiuU'd beneath 

The voice of Bags? 
Ne'or was my work half undone, lest' ' 

I should bo nabb'd : 
Slow was old Bags, but he never oeated 

Till the whole was grabb'd. 

cnoRus. 
Tin the whole was grabb'd. 

When the slow ooaoh paused, and the 
gemmen storm 'd, 

/ bore the brunt— 
And the only sound which my grave lips 
form'd 

Was * blunt '—still < blunt ! ' 
Oh ! those Jovial days are ne'er forgot I— > 

But the tape lags— 
When I bo's dead, you H drink one pot 

To poor old Bags ! 

CHORUS. 

To poor old Bags I ** 

"Ay, that we will, my dear Bag- 
shot," cried Gentleman Geoige, affec- 
tionately ; but, observing a tear in the 
fine old fellow's eye, he added, "Cheer 
up. What, ho! cheer up! Times 
will improYC, and Providence may 
yet se^d us one good year, when you 
shall be as well off as ererl You 



this part of onr work, when first published, 
like all poUtloal aUnsions, loses point and 
beoomes obscure as the applications cease to 
beCMniUar. It is already necessary, perhaps^ 
to say, that Fighting Attie herein typlfles or 
iUnstrates the Dnkeof Wdlington's abimpt 
«« Tw*i— ^1 Iff yf r Hnrit Ihbmi 



shakes your poll. Well, don't be 
humduigeoned, but knock down a 
gemman." 

Dashing away the drop of sensi- 
bility, the yeteran knocked down Gen- 
tleman George himself. 

" Oh, dang.it!" sud George, with 
an air of dignity "I ought to skip, 
since I finds the lush; buthowsom- 
ever here goes." 

GENTLEMAN GEORGE'S SONG. 
Atr^-^ Old King Cole." 

••I he's the cove— the merry old cove, 
Of whose max all the rufflert sing. 

And a lushing covet. I thinks, by Jove, 
Is as great as a sober king I 

CHORUS* 

Is 8S great as a sober king. 

Whatever the noise as is made by the boys. 

At the bar as they lush away ; 
The devil a noise my peace alloys. 

As long as the rascals pay ! 

CHORUS. 

As long ss the rascals pay ! 

What if I sticks my stones and my bricks 
With mortar I takes from the snobbish ? 

All who can feel fur the public wenl. 
Likes the publio-houae to be bobbish. 

CHORUS. 

Likes the public-house to be bobbish.* 

"There, gemmen!" said the pub- 
lican, stopping short, " that 's the 
pith of the matter, and split my wig 
but I 'm short of breath now. So, 
send round the brandy, Augustus : you 
sly dog, you keeps it all to yourself," 

By this time the whole conclave 
were more than half-seas over, or, as 
Augustus Tomlinson expressed it, 
"their more austere qualities were 
relaxed by a pleasing and innocent 
indulgence." Paul's eyes reeled, and 
his tongue ran loose. By degrees the 
room swam round, the faces of his 
comrades altered, tiie countenance of 
Old Bags assumed an awful and 
menacing air. He thought Long Ked 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



«9 



iiunilied him, and that Old Bags took 
the part of the assailant, doubled his 
fistSy and threatened to put the plain- 
tiff's nob into chancery, if he disturbed 
the peace of the meeting. Yarious 
other imaginary evils beset him. He 
thought he had robbed a mail-coach 
in company with Pepper; that Tom- 
linson informed against hhn, and that 
Gentleman George ordered him to be 
hanged ; in short, he laboured under 
a temporary delirium, occasioned by a 
sudden reyerse of fortune — ^irom water 
to brandy ; and the hist thing of which 
he retained any recollection, before he 
sunk under the table, in company with 
Long Ned, Scarlet Jem, and Old Bags, 
was, the. bearing his' psut in the bur- 
then, of what appeared to him a chorus 
of last dying speeches and confessionc^ 
but what in reality was a song made 
in honour of .Gentleman,George, and 
sung by his grateful guests as a finale 
to the festivities. It ran Uius :— ■ 

THB ROBBER'S GRAND TOAST. 

" A tiunbl«r of blae mln, 1111, fill for me I 

Red tape those as likee it may drain. 
But whateyer the lush, it a bumper most be, 

If we ne'er drinka a bumper again ! 
Now— now in the orfb, where a r^gUr may 
lie. 
Without fear that the trapt afaoold distKaa 
him. 
With a drop In the month, and a drop In the 
eye, 
Hete's to Gentleniaii Oe orgo- Ood bless 
himi 



Gtod bless him— God bless him I 
Bero's to Gentleman George— God bless 
him! 

'Moog the pals of the Prince, I have heard 
it 's the go. 
Before they have tippled enoagh. 
To smarten their punch with the best 
' cnragoa. 
More oonish to render the stuff! 
I boast not such lash I— but whoerer his 
gla« 
Docs not like, 111 be hang'd if I prem 
him! 
Upatanding. my kiddies lonnd, round let 
-it pass! 
Here *8- to GenUeman George-God blesa 
hbn! 
God blsas him— God bless him ! 
Here's to Gentleman Georgo— God bless 
him! 

See-see— the fine fellow grows weak on the 
stumps, 
Assist him, ye rascals, to stand I 
Why, ye stir not a peg I— Are you all in the 
■ dumps?— 
Fighting Attic, go, lend him a hand ! * 

{l%e rcbbtrt crowd mrmtnd Gentleman 
George, «acft, under pretence tifeup- 
porting him, pulling him Jirtt one 
wag and then anotker,) 

ComCi lean npon me— at jam senrlce I am I 
Get away ftom bis dbow, yon whelp!— him 
You 11 only upset— them 'ere fellows but 
sham! 
Here 's to Gentleman George— God help 
him! 
God help him— God help him !— 
Here 's to Gentleman George— God help 
him!" 



n 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



CHAPTER XL 



'* I boMtno lonf in magic wimdera rifs. 
But yet, O Nature i is tbere nought to f rise^ 
Familiar in thy hoataa. ecenes of life ? 
And dwells in daylight truth's salubrious skies 
No form with which the soul may sympathise ? 
Young, innooant, on whose sweet forehead mlU 
TheiMoted ringlet shone In simplest giiiie. 
An imnate in the home of Albert smiled. 
Or Uestbis noondaj walk— she was his only child.** 

Oertrude ^ Wifoming. 



vaa, thou luuit played sirange 
tricks with us ! and ve bleas ihe stars 
that made us a novelist, and permit 
ng now to retaliate. Leaving Paul 
to the instmotions of Angnstofi Tom- 
linson and the festiyities of the Jolly 
Angler, and suffering him, by slow but 
sure degrees, to acquire the graoes and 
the reputation of the accomplished and 
perfect appropriator of othermen's pos- 
sessions, we shall pass over the lapse of 
years with the same heedless rapidity 
with which they have glided over us, 
and summon our reader to a very 
different seoie from those which would 
be likely to greet his ^yes, were he 
following the adventures of our new 
Telemachus. Nor wilt thou, dear 
reader, whom we make the umpire 
between ouxself and those who never 
read — ^the critics ; — ^thou who hast, in 
the true spirit of gentle breeding, 
gone with us among places where 
the novelty of the scene has, we fear, 
scarcely atoned for the coarseness, not 
giving thyself the airs of a dainty 
abigail, — ^not prating, lacquey-like, on 
the low company i£ou hast met, — 
nor wilt thou, dear and friendly reader, 
have cause to dread that we shall 
weary thy patience by a " damnable 
iteration " of the same localities. Paus- 
ing for a moment to glance over the 
divisions of our story, which lies before 
us like a map, we feel that we may 



promise in future to conduct thee 
among aspects of society more fami- 
liar to thy habits ;~where events flow 
to their allotted gulf throu^ land* 
seapes of more pleasing variety, and 
among tribes of a more luxurious 
civilisation. 

Upon the banks of one of &ir Eng- 
land's fairest rivers, and about fifty 
miles distant from I^ndon, still stands 
an old-fiishioned abode, wMch we shall 
here term Warlock Manor-house. It 
is a building of brick, varied by stone 
copings, and covered in great part 
with ivy and jasmine. Around it lie 
the ruins of the elder part of the &bric, 
and these are sufficiently numerous in 
extent, and important in appearance^ 
to testify that the mansion was once 
not without pretensions to the mag- 
nificent. These remains of power, 
some of which bear date as fiir back 
as the reign of Henry the Third, are 
sanctioned by the character of the 
country immediately in the vicinity 
of the old manor-house. A vast tract 
of waste land, interspersed with groves 
of antique pollards, and here and there 
irregular and sinuous ridges of green 
mound, betoken to the experienced 
eye the evidence of a dismanUed chase 
or park, which must originally have 
been of no common dimensions. On 
one side of the house the lawn slopes 
towards the river, divided from a 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



71 



terraoe, which fonns the most im- 
portant embelliahmei&t of the pleasoie- 
gronndB, by that fence to which haa 
been given the ingenious and sig- 
nificant name of " ha>faa ! " A few 
scattered trees of giant growth are 
the «de obstades that break the view 
of the river, which has often seemed 
to us, at that particnlar passi^ of its 
coarse, to gtide with nnnsaal oJmness 
and serenity. On the opposite side of 
the stream there is a range of steep 
hills, celebrated for nothing more 
romantic than their property of im- 
parting to the flooksthat browse upon 
their short, and seemingly stinted 
herbage, a fayour peculiarly grateful 
to the loyers of ^at pastoral animal 
whidi changes its name into mutton 
after its decease. Upon these hills the 
▼estige of human habitation is not 
visible; and at times, when no boat 
defaces the lonely smoothness of the 
river, and the evening has stilled the 
sounds of labour and of life, we know 
few scenes so utterly tranquil, so 
steeped in quiet^ as that which is pre- 
sented by the old, quaint-fashioned 
house and its antique grounds, — ^the 
smooth lawn, the silent, and (to speak 
truly, though dispara^gly) the some- 
what sluggish river, together with 
the large hills (to which we know, 
from simple, though metaphysical 
causes, how entire an idea of quiet» 
and immovability, peculiarly attaches 
itself), and the white flocks — ^those 
most peaceful of God's creatures, — 
that in fleecy clusters stud the 
ascent. 

In Warlock House, at the time we 
refer to, lived a gentleman of the 
name of Brandon. He was a widower, 
and had attained his fiftieth year, 
without casting mueh regret on the 
past, or feeling much anxiety for the 
future. In a word, Joseph Brandon 
ifrts one of those careless, quiescent, 
indifierent men, by whom a thought 
upon any subject is never recurred to 
without a very urgent nececeity. He 



was good-natured, inofliaiBive, and 
weak ; and if he was not an incom- 
parable ciUien, he wa% at least, an 
excellent vegetable. He was of a 
fiunily of high antiquity, and fonneriy 
of considerable note. For the last 
four or five generations, however, the 
proprietors of Warlock House, gradn- 
ally losing something alike from 
their acres and their consequenee, 
had left to their descendants no 
hi^er rank than that of a small conn- 
try squire. One had been a Jacobite, 
and had drunk out half a dozen £ums 
inhonour of Charley over thewater ,«— 
Charley over the water was no very 
dangerous person, but Charley over 
the wine was rather more ruinous. 
The next Brandon had been a fox- 
hunter, and fox-hunters live as largely 
as patriotic politicians. Pausanias 
tells us, that the same people who 
were the most notorious for their love 
of wine, were also the most notorious 
for their negligence of afiairs. Times 
are not much altered since Pausanias 
wrote, and the remark holds as good 
with the English as it did with the 
Phigalei. After this Brandon came 
one who, though he did not scorn the 
sportsman, rather assumed the fine 
gentleman. He married an heiress, 
who, of course, assisted to ruin him : 
wishing no assistance in so pleasing 
an occupation, he overturned her 
(perJuipa not on purpose), in a new 
sort of carriage which he was learning 
to drive, and the good lady was 
killed on the spot. She left the fine 
gentleman two sons, Joseph Brandon, 
the present thane, and a brother some 
years younger. The elder, being of a 
fitting age, was sent to school, and 
somewhat escaped the contagion of 
the paternal mansion. But the 
younger Brandon, having only reached 
his fifth year at the time of his mo- 
ther's decease, was retained at home. 
Whether he was handsome, or clever, 
or impertinent, or like his father 
about the eyes (that greatest of all 



72 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



merite), we know not; bnt the 
widower became so fond of him, that 
it was at a late period, and with great 
reluctance, that he finally intmsted 
him to the providence of a BchooL 

Among harlots, and gamblers, and 
lords, and sharpers, and gentlemen 
of the guards, together with their 
frequent accompaniments-— guards of 
the gentlemen— viz. baUiflb, William 
Brandon passed the first stage of his 
boyhood. He was about thirteen 
when he was sent to school ; and be- 
ing a boy of remarkable talents, he 
recovered lost time so well, that when, 
at the age of nineteen, he a4Joumed 
to the university, he had scarcely 
reuded there a sLugle t&rm before he 
had borne off two of the highest 
prizes awarded to academical merit. 
From the university he departed on 
the "grand tour," at that time 
thought so necessary to complete the 
gentleman : he went in company with 
a young nobleman, whose friendship 
he had won at the university, stayed 
abroad more than two years, and on 
Ms return he settled down to the 
profession of the law. 

Meanwhile his fitther died, and his 
fortune, as a younger brother, being 
literally next to nothing, and the 
ftmily estate (for his brother was not 
ununUing to assist him) being terribly 
involved, it was believed that he 
struggled for some years with very 
embarrassed and penurious circum- 
stances. During this interval of his 
life, however, he was absent from 
London, and by his brother supposed 
to have returned to the Continent: 
at length, it seems, he profited by a 
reneiral of his friendship with the 
^ young nobleman who had accom- 
panied him abroad, reappeared in 
town, and obtained, through his 
noble friend, one or two legal ap- 
pointments of reputable emolument : 
soon afterwards he got a brief on 
some cause where a major had been 
raiding a corps to his brother officer. 



with the better consent of the brotiier- 
officer's wife than of the brother offi> 
cerhimselt Brandon's abilities here, 
for the first time in his professiim, 
found an adequate vent ; his reputa- 
tion seemed made at once, he rose 
rapidly in lus profession, and, at the 
time we now speak of, he was sailing 
down the full tide of fiune and wealth, 
the envy and the oracle of all young 
Templars and barristers, who, having 
been starved themselves for ten years, 
began now to calculate on the pos- 
sibility of starving their clients. At 
an early period in lus career he had^ 
through the good offices of the noble- 
man we have mentioned, obtained a 
seat in the House of Commons ; and 
though his eloquence was of an order 
much better suited to the bar than 
the senate, he had nevertheless ac- 
quired a very considerable reputation 
in the latter, and was looked upon by 
many as likely to win to the same 
brilliant fortunes as the courtly Mans- 
field—a great man, whose political 
principles and urbane address Bran- 
don was supposed especially to afiect 
as lus own model Of unblemished 
integrity in public life — for, as he 
supported all. things that exist with 
the most unboiding rigidity, he could 
not be accused of incondstency— 
William Brandon was (as we have 
said in a former place of unhappy 
memory to our hero) esteemed in 
private life the most honourable, the 
most moral, even the most austere of 
men ; and his grave and stem repute 
on this score, joined to the dazzle of 
his eloquence and forensic powersy 
had baffled in great measure the 
rancour of party hostility, and ob- 
tained for him a character for virtues 
almost as high and as enviable as that 
which he had acquired for abilities. 

While William wis thus treading 
a noted and an honourable career, 
his elder brother, who had married 
into a clergyman's fiunily, and soon 
lost his .consort^ had with his only 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



73 



e^d, a daaghter named Lu<97, Tended 
in his paternal mansion in undis- 
turbed obscurity. The discreditable 
character and habits of the preceding 
k>ids of Warlock, which had sunk 
iheir respectability in the county, as 
ivell as curtailed their property, had 
rendered the surrounding gentry little 
anxious to cultivate the intimacy of 
the present proprietor ; and the heavy 
mind and retiml manners of Joseph 
Brandon were not calculated to 
counterbalance the foults of his fore- 
fibthers, nor to reinstate the name of 
Brandon in its ancient popularity and 
esteem. Though dull and little cul- 
tivated, the squire was not without 
his "proper pride;'* he attempted 
not to intrude himself where he was 
unwelcome, avoided county meetings 
and county balls, smoked his pipe 
with the parson, and not unoften with 
the surgeon and the solicitor, and 
suffered his daughter Lucy to educate 
herself^ with the help of the parson's 
wife, and to ripen (for Nature was 
more &vourable to her than Art) into 
the very prettiest girl that the whole 
county — we long to say the whole 
country — at that time could boast ot 
Never did glass give back a more 
lovely image than that of Lucy Bran- 
don at the age of nineteen. Her 
auburn hair fell in the richest luxuri- 
ance over a brow never ruffled, and a 
cheek where the blood never slept; 
with every instant the colour varied, 
and at every variation that smooth, 
pure, virgin cheek seemed still more 
lovely, than before. She had the 
most beautiful laugh that one who 
loved music could imagine, — silvery, 
low, and yet so full of joy! all her 
movements, as the old parson said, 
seemed to keep time to that laugh ; 
for mirth made a great part of her 
innocent and childish temper ; and 
yet the mirth was feminine, never 
loud, nor like that of young ladies 
who had received the last foiish at 
Highgate seminaries. Everything 



joyous affected her, and at once; — 
air, — ^flowers, — sunehine, — ^butterflies. 
Unlike heroines in general, she very 
seldom cried, and ^e saw nothing 
charming in having the vapours. 
But she never looked so beautiful as 
in sleep 1 and as the light breath 
came from her parted lips, and the 
ivory lids closed over those eyes 
which only in sleep were silent— and 
her attitude in her sleep took that 
inefiable grace belonging solely to 
childhood, or the fr^ youth into 
which childhood merges, — she was 
just what you might imagine a sleep- 
ing Margaret, before that most simple 
and gentle of all a poet's visions of 
womanhood had met with Faust, or 
her slumbers been ruffled with a 
dream of love. 

We cannot say much for Lucy's 
intellectual acquirements ; she could, 
thanks to the parson's wife, spell in- 
differently well, and write a tolerable 
hand ; she made preserves, and some- 
times riddles— it was more difficult to 
question the excellence of the former 
tiian to answer the queries of the 
latter. She worked to the admiration 
of all who knew her, and we beg leave 
to say that we deem that " an excel- 
lent thing in woman." She made caps 
for herself and gowns for the poor, 
and now and then she accomplished 
the more literary labour of a stray 
novel that had wandered down to the 
Manor-house, or an abridgment of 
ancient history, in which was omitted 
every thing but the proper names. 
To these attainments she added a cer- 
tain modicum of skill upon the spinet, 
and the power of singing old songs 
with the richest and sweetest voice 
that ever made one's ^es moisten, or 
one's heart beat. 

Her moral qualities were more fully 
developed than her mental. She was 
the kindest of human beings; the 
very dog that had never seen her 
before, knew that truth at the first 
glance, and lost no time in making 



74 



PAUL CLIPPOBIX 



her acqnaintanee. The goodnen of 
her heart repoeed upon her fetce like 
fRiBBhine, and the old wife at the 
lodge said poetically and truly of the 
eflfoct it produced, that "one felt 
warm when one looked on her." If 
we could abstract from the description 
a certain chilling tmnsparency, the 
following exquisite yerses of a forgot- 
ten poet* might express the purity 
and lustre of her countenance : — 

** Her face was like the milky way i* the sky. 
A meeting of gentle ligfate without a name** 

She was surrounded by pets of all 
kinds, ugly and handsome, from Balph 
the raven to Beauty the pheasant, and 
from Bob, the sheep-dog without a 
tail^ to Beau, the Blenheim with blue 
ribands round his neck; all things 
loved her, and she loved all things. 
It seemed doubtful at that time 
whether she would ever have sufficient 
steadiness and strength of character. 
Her beauty and her character ap- 
peared so essentially womanlike — soft, 
yet lively, buoyant, yet caressing, — 
that you could scarcely place in her 
that moral dependence that you might 
in a character leas amiable, but less 
yieldingly feminine. Time, however, 
and circumstance, which alter and 
harden, were to decide whether the 
inward nature did not possess some 
latent, and yet undiscovered proper- 
ties. Such was Lucy Brandon, in the 

year , and in that year, on a 

beautiful autumnal evening, we first 
introduce her personally to our readers. 
She was sitting on a garden-seat by 
the river side with her father, who 
was deliberately conning the evening 
paper of a former week, and gravely 
seasoning the ancient news with the 
inspirations of that weed which so 
bitterly excited the royal indignation 
of our British Solomon. It happens, 
unfortunately for us, — ^for outward 
peculiarities are scarcely worthy the 
dignity to which comedy, whether in 



*8neklinf. 



the drama or the nanatiTe, aspires,—- 
that Squire Brandon posseased so few 
distinguishing traits of mind, that he 
leaves his delineator little whereby to 
designate him, save a confused and 
parenthetical habit of speech, by 
which he Teiy often appealed to thoM 
who did not profit by long experience, 
or close observaUon, to say exactly, 
and somewhat ludicrously, that which 
he did not mean to convey. 

" I say, Lucy," observed Mr. Bnm* 
don, but without lifting his eyes from 
the paper ; " I say, com has fiiUen— 
think of that, girl, think of that! 
These times, in my opinion, (ay, and 
in the opinion of wiser heads than 
mine, though I do not mean to say 
tiiat I have not some experience in 
these matters, which is more than 
can be said of dU ovrneighboun^ are 
very emioua, and even danfferous." 

" Indeed, papa ! " answered Lucy. 

" And I say, Lucy, dear," resumed 
the squire after a short pause, '' there 
has been (and very strange it is, too, 
when one considers the crowded 
neighbourhood — ^Bless me ! what 
times these are ! ) a shocking murder 
cammiUed upon {the tobaeetystopper'-^ 
there it is) — ^think, you know, girl- 
just by Epping ! — an old gentleman !" 

" Dear, how shocking ! by whomf " 

"Ay, that's the question! The 
coroner's inquest has (what a blessing 
it is to live in a civilised country, 
where a man does not die without 
knowing the why and the wherefore!) 
sat on the body, and declared (it is 
very strange, but they don't seem to 
have made much discovery ; for why t 
we knew as much before,) that the 
body was found (it was found on the 
floor, Lucy,) murdered ; murderer cr 
fnvrderers (in the bureau, which was 
broken open, they found the mon^ 
left quite untouched,) — ^unknown ! " 

Here there was again a slight pause, 
and passing to another side of the 
paper, Mr. Brandon resumed in a 
quicker tone,— 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



r« 



"Ha! well, now this is odd J Bnt 
he's a deuced clcTer fellow, Lacyl 
that brother of mine has (and in a 
vexy honourable manner too, which I 
am flare is highly creditable to the 
fiunil J, though he has not taken too 
much notice of me lately ;— a circum- 
stance which, considering I am his 
elder brother, I am a little angry at ;) 
—distinguished himself in a speech, 
remarkable, the paper eays, for its 
great lega^(I wonder, by the by, 
whether William could get me that 
agistment-money 1 'Us a heavy thing 
to lose; but going to law, as my poor 
fiither used to say, is like fish^ for 
gudgeons [not a bad little fish, toe eon 
have some/or wpper,] with guineas) — 
knowledge, as wdl as its splendid and 
overpowering— (I do love Will for 
keeping up the £unily honour; I am 
sure it is more than I hare done— 
heigh-ho !) — eloquence ! " 

" And on what sulgect has he been 
speaking, papaT' 

'' Oh, a very fine subject ; what yon 
call a — ^t is astonishing that in this 
country there should be such a wish 
for taking away people's characters, 
which, for my part, I don't see is a bit 
more entertaining than what you are 
always doing — splaying ' with those 
stupid birds)— libell" 

"But is not my uncle William 
coining down to see usl He promised 
to do so, and it made you quite happy, 
papa» for two days. I hope he wUl 
not disappoint you; and I am sure 
that it is not his fault if he ever 
seems to neglect you. He spoke of 
you to me, when I saw him, in the 
kindest and most affectionate mannnfr. 
I do think, my dear fiither, that he 
loves you very much." 

<' Ahem ! " said the squire, evi- 
dently flattered, and yet not con- 
vinced. " My brother Will is a very 
acute fellow, and I make no— my 
dear little girl — question, but that — 
(when you have seen as much of the 
world as I have, you will grow sus- 



p!cious,)--he thought that any good 
word said of me to my daughter, 
would — (you see, Lucy, I am as clear- 
sighted as my neighbours, though I 
don't give myself all their airs ; which 
I very well might do, considering my 
great great great grand&ther, Hugo 
Brandon, had a hand in detecting the 
gunpowder plot,)— be told to me 
again!" 

" Nay, but I am quite sure my uncle 
never spoke of you to me with that 
intention." 

" Possibly, my dear child ; but when 
(the evenings are much shorter than 
they were I) did you talk with your 
uncle about me V 

"Oh, when staying with lire. 
Warner, in London ; to be sore, it is 
six years ago ; but 1 remember it per- 
fectly. I recollect^ in particular, that 
he spoke of you very handsomely to 
Lord Mauleverer, who dined with him 
one evening when I was there, and 
when my uncle was so kind as to take 
me to the play. I was afterwards quite 
Sony that he was so good-natured, as 
he lost — ^u remember I told you the . 
story)~« very valuable watch." 

" Ay, ay, I remember all about that, 
and so, — liow long friendship lasts 
with some people t — Lord Mauleverer 
dined with William ! What a fine 
thing it is for a man — (it is what I 
never did, indeed, I like being what 
they call 'Cock of the Walk'->let 
me see, now I think of it, Pillum 
comes to-night to play a hit at back- 
gammon) — to make Mends with a 
great man early in (yet Will did not 
do it veiy early, poor fellow! he 
struggled first with a great deal of 

sorrof w ■ h ardship that is ) 

life! rt is many years now, since 
Will has been hand-and-glove with my 
('tis a bit of a puppy) Lord Mauleverer, 
—what didyou think of his lordship 1" 

"Of Lord Mauleverer? Indeed I 
scarcely observed him ; but he seemed 
a handscnne man, and was very polite. 
Mnu Warner said he had been a very 



w 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



wieked penon when he was young, 
but he seems good-natured enough 
now, papa." 

"By the by," said the squire, "his 
lordship has just been made— (this 
new ministry seems very unlike the 
old, which rather puzzles me ; for I 
think it my. duty, d'ye see, Lucy, 
always to YOte for his Majesty's 
goyemment, especially seeing that 
old Hugo Brandon had a hand in 
detecting the gunpowder plot ; and it 
is a little odd, at least, at first, to 
think that good now, which one has 
always before. been thinking abomin- 
able) Lord Lieutenant of the county." 

" Lord Mauleverer our Lord Lieu- 
tenant 1" 

" Yes, child ; and since his lordship 
is such a friend of my brother^s, I 
should think, considering especially 
what an old fcunily in the county we 
are,— not that I wish to intrude my- 
self where I am not thought as fine as 
the rest,-^that he would be more 

attentive to us than Lord was ; 

but that, my dear Lucy, puts me in 
mind of Pillum, and so, perhaps, you 
would like to ynXk. to the parson's as 
it is a fine evening. John shall come 
for you at nine o'clock wUh (the moon 
is not up then) the lantern." 

Leaning on his daughter's willing 
arm, the good old man then rose and 
walked homeward ; and so soon as she 
had wheeled round his eaqr chair, 
placed the backgammon-board on the 
table, and wished the old gentleman 
an easy victory over his expected 
antagonist the apothecary, Lucy tied 
down her bonnet> and took her way 
to the rectoiy. 

When she arrived at the clerical 
mansion, and entered the drawing- 
room, she was surprised to find the 
parson's wife, a good, homely, lethargic 
old lady, run up to her, seemingly in 
a state of great nervous agitation, and 
crying, 

" Oh, my dear Miss Brandon t 
which way did yon come? Did you 



meet nobody by the road 1 Oh, I am 
so frightened 1 Such an accident to 
poor dear Dr. Slopperton 1 Stopped 
in the king's highway, robbed of some 
tithe-money he had just received from 
Farmer Slowforth : if it had not been 
for that dear angel, good, young man, 
Qod only knows whether I might not 
have been a disconsolate widow by 
this time!" 

While the affectionate matron was 
thus running on, Lucy's eye glancing 
round the room discovered in an arm- 
chair the round and oily little person 
of Dr. Slopperton, with a countenance 
from which all the carnation hues, 
save in one circular excrescence on 
the nasal member, that was left, like 
the last rose of summer, blooming 
alone, were fided into an aspect of 
miserable pallor : the litUe man tried 
to ooiyure up a smile while his wife 
was narrating his misfortune, and to 
mutter forth some syllable of uncon- 
cern; but he looked, for all his 
bravado, so exceedingly scared, that 
Lucy would, despite herself, have 
Umghed outiight> had not her eye 
rested upon tiie figure of a young 
man who had been seated beside the 
reverend gentleman, but who had 
risen at JJaefs entrance; and who now 
stood gazing upon her intently, but 
with an air of great respect Blushing 
deeply, and involuntarily, she turned 
her eyes hastilyaway,and approaching 
the good doctor, jmade her inquiries 
into the present state of his nerves, 
in a graver tone than she had a 
minute before imagined it possible 
that she should have been enabled to 



" Ah 1 my good young lady," said 
the doctor, squeedng her hand, " I— 
may, I may say the church— for am 
I not its minister f-^was in imminent 
danger:— but this excellent gentle^ 
man-prevented the sacrilege, at least 
in great measure. I only lost some 
of my dues— my rightful dues— for 
which I console myadf with t hinkin g 



PAUL CLIFFORD, 



77 



tliat the infamous and abandoned 
Ylllain will suffer hereafter." 

'* There cannot be the least doubt 
of that,** said the young man : " had he 
only robbed the mul coach, or broken 
into a gentleman's house, the offence 
might have been expiable ; but to rob 
a clergyman, and a rector, too ! — Oh, 
the sacrilegious dog !" 

" Your warmth does you honour, 
or" said the doctor, beginning now 
to recover ; " and 1 am very proud 
to have made the acquaintance of 
a gentleman of such truly religious 
opinions I " 

"Ah!" cried the stranger, "my 
foible, sir — ^If I may so speak — ^is a 
sort of enthusiastic fervour for the 
Protestant Establishment. Nay, sir, 
I never come across the very nave of 
the church, without feeling an inde- 
scribable emotion — a kind of sym- 
pathy, as it were,:-^with^-with— -you 
understand me, sir — I fear I express 
myself ill." 

" Not at all, not at all !" exclaimed 
the doctor : " such sentiments are un- 
common in one so young." 

" Sir, I learned them early in life 
from a friend and preceptor of mine, 
Mr. Mac Qrawler, and I trust they 
may continue wiUi me to my dying 
day." 

Here the doctor's servant entered 
with (we borrow a phrase from the 
novel of * * * *) " the tea-equipage," 
and Mrs. Slopperton betaking herself 
to its superintendence, inquired, with 
more composure than hitherto had 
belonged to her demeanour, what sort 
of a looking creature the ruffian was 1 

" I win tell you, my dear, I will 
tell you. Miss Lucy, all about it. I 
was walking home from Mr. Slow- 
forth's, with his money in my pocket, 
thinking, my love, of buying you 
that topaz cross you wished to have." 

"Dear good man ! " cried Mrs. Slop- 
perton ; " what a fiend it must have 
been to rob so excellent a creature !" 

"And," resumed the doctor, "it 



also occurred to me, that the Madeira 
was nearly out — ^the Madeira., I mean, 
with the red seal ,* and I was think- 
ing it might not be amiss to devote 
part of the money to buy six dozen 
more; and the remainder, my love, 
which would be about one pound 
eighteen, I thought I would divide, 
— 'for he that giveth to the poor 
lendeth to the Lord!' — among the 
thirty poor fiunilies on the common : 
that is, if they behaved well, and the 
apples in the back garden were not 
feloniously abstracted !" 

" Excellent, charitable man ! " ejacu- 
lated Mrs. Slopperton. 

'^ While I was thus meditating, I 
lifted my eyes, and saw before me two 
men ; one of prodigious height, and 
with a great profusion of hair about 
his shoulders ; the other was smaller, 
and wore his hat slouched over his 
face : it was a very large hat. My 
attention was arrested by the singu- 
larity of the tall person's hair, and 
while I was smiling at its luxuriance, 
I heard him say to his companion, — 
'Well, Augustus, as you are such a 
moral dog, he is in your line, not 
mine : so I leave him to you.' — Little 
did I think those words related to 
me. No sooner were they uttered, 
than the tall rascal leaped over a gate 
and disappeared ; the other fellow, then 
marching up to me, very smoothly 
asked me the way to the church, and 
while I was explaining to him to turn 
first to the right and then to the left, 
and ISO on— for the best wj^y is, you 
know, exceedingly crooked — the hy- 
pocritical scoundrel seized me by the 
collar, and cried out — ' Your money, 
or your life ! * I do assure you, that I 
never trembled so much; not, my 
dear Miss Lucy, so much for my own 
sake, as for the sake of the thirty 
poor families on the common, whose 
wants it had been my intention to 
relieve. I gave up the money, finding 
my prayers and expostulations were 
in vain; and the dog then, brandishing 



78 



PAUL CLIFPOED. 



ov«r my head an enonnou bludgeon, 
said— what abominable language !— 
' I think, doctor, I shall put an end 
to an existence derogatory to your- 
self and nseless to others.' At that 
moment the yonng gentleman beside 
me sprang over the yeiy gate by which 
the tall raffian had disappearod, and 
cried, * Hold, villain ! ' On seeing my 
deliverer, the coward started back, and 
plunged into a neighbouring wood. 
The good young gentleman pursued 
him for a few minutes, but then re- 
turning to my aid,condncted me home ; 
and as we used to say at school :^ 



Which, being interpreted, 
(sir, excuse a pun, I am sure se great 
a Mend to the church understands 
Latin) — that I am very glad to get 
back safe to my tea. He ! he ! And 
now, MiBS Lucy, you must thank that 
young gentleman for having saved 
the life of your pastoral teacher, whidi 
act will no doubt be remembered at 
the Great Day r' 

As Ltt<7, looking towards the 
stranger, said something in compli- 
ment, she observed a vague, and, as 
it were;, covert smile upon his coun- 
tenance, whidh immediately, and as 
if by sympathy, conjured one to her 
own. The hero of the adventure, 
however, in a very grave tone, replied 
to her compliment^ at the same time 
bowing profoundly : — 

" Mention it not, madam ! I were 
unworthy of the name of a Briton, and 
a man, could I pass the highway with- 
out relieving the distress, or light- 
ening the burthen, of a fellow-creature. 
And," continued the stranger, after 
a momentary pause, colouring while 
he spoke, and concluding in the high- 
flown gallantry of the day, " methii^s 
it were sufficient reward, had I saved 
the whole church, instead of one 
its most valuable members, to receive 
the thanks of a lady, whom I might 



reasonably take for one of those celea* 
tial beings to whom we have been 
piously taught that the church la 
especially the care 1 " 

Though there might have been 
something really ridiculous in this 
overstrained compliment, coupled as 
it was with the preservation of Dr. 
Slopperton, yet, coming from the 
month of one whom Lucy thought the 
very handsomest pwson she had ever 
seen, it appeared to her any thing 
but absurd ; and, for a very long time 
afterwards, her heart thrilled with 
pleasure when she remembered that 
the cheek of the speaker had glowed, 
and his voioe had trembled, as he 
spoke it. 

The conversation now, turning from 
robbers in particular, dwelt upon rob- 
beries in general It was edifying 
to hear the honest indignation with 
which the stranger spoke of the law- 
less depredators with whom the coun- 
try, in that day ^of Macheaths, was 
infested. 

" A pack of in&mousiaseals i " said 
he, in a glow ; " who attempt to justify 
their xdsdeeds by the example of 
honest men; and who say, that th^ 
do no more than is done by lawyers 
and doctors, soldiers, clergymen, and 
ministers of state. Pitiful delusion, 
or rather shameless hypocri^ 1 " 

'* It all comes of educating the poor," 
said the doctor. " The moment they 
pretend to judge the conduct of thdr 
betters— ^ere 's an end of all order ! 
They see nothing saered in the laws, 
though we hang the dogs ever so ftst ,- 
and the very peers of the land, spi- 
ritual and temporal, cease to be vene- 
rable in their eyes." 

" Talking of peers,'* said Mrs. Slop- 
perton, "I hear that Lord Mauleverer 
is to pass by this road to-night, on his 
way to Mauleverer Park. Do you 
know his lordship. Miss Lucy? he is 
very intimate with your uncle." 

" I have only seen him once," an- 
swered Lucy. 



PAUL CLIFFOBD. 



79 



. "Axe you sue that hialoidBhip will 
come thiB road 1" Mked the struiger, 
carelessly : " I heard something of it 
this morning; but did not know it was 
settled." 

"Oh, quite sol" rqjoined Mrs. 
Slopperton. "His lordship's gentle- 
man wrote for post-horses to meet his 
lordship at Wybum, about three miles 
on the other side of the village, at ten 
o'clock to-night. His lordship is very 
impatient of delay." 

" Pray," said the doctor, who had 
not much heeded this turn in the 
conversation, and wbb now " on hos- 
pitable cares intent;" — " Pray, sir, if 
not impertinent, are you visiting, or 
lodging in the neighbourhood; or, 
will you take a bed with usi" 

" You are extremely kind, my dear 
sir, but I fear I must soon wish you 
good evening. I have to look after a 
little property I have some miles hence, 
which, indeed, brought me down into 
this part of the world." 

" Property 1— in what direetion, sir, 
if I may aski " quoth the doctojr ; " I 
know the country for miles." 

" Do you, indeed ?— where 's my pro- 
perty, you say ? Why, it ia rather dif- 
ficult to deseribe it^ and it is, after all, 
a mere trifle : it is only some common- 
land near the high-road^ and I came 
down to try the experiment of hedging 
€md draining" 

"'Tis a good plan, if one has capi- 
tal, and does not require a speedy 
return." 

" Yes; but one likes a good inte- 
rest /or the lo88 of princvpcU, and 
a speedy return is always desirable ; 
although,' alas! it is often attended 
with risk ! " 

" I hope, sir," said the doctor, " if 
you must leave us so soon, that your 
property will often bring you into our 
neighbourhood." 

" You overpower me with so much 
unexpected goodness," answered the 
stranger. "To tell you the truth, 
nothing can give me greater pleasure 



than to meet those again who have 
once obliged me." 

" Whom you have obliged, rather I '* 
cried Mr& Slopperton, and then added, 
in a loud whisper to Lucy — " How 
modest 1 but it is always so with true 
courage ! " 

" I assure you, madam/' returned 
the benevolent stranger, " that I never 
think twice of the little &vours I rea> 
der my fellow-men — my only hope is^ 
that they may be asforgetful as myself." 

Charmed with so much unaffected 
goodness of disposition, the Dr. and 
Mrs. Slopperton now set up a sort of 
duet in praise of their g^est: after 
enduring their conmiendations and 
compliments for some minutes with 
much grimace of disavowal and dif- 
fidence, the stranger's modesty seemed 
at last to take pain at the excess of their 
gratitude; and, accordingly, pointing 
to the clock, which was within a few 
minutes of nine, he said— 

" I fear, my respected host» and my 
admired hostess, that I must now 
leave you ; I have fiur to go." 

" But are you yourself not afraid of 
the highwaymen!" cried Mrs. Slop- 
perton, interrupting him. 

" The highwaymen ! " said the 
stranger, smiling : " No ! I do not 
fear them; besides, I have little about 
me worth robbing." 

" Do you superintend your property 
yourself]" said the doctor; who farmed 
his own glebe, and who, unwilling to 
part with so charming a guest, 8ei:^d 
him now by the button. 

" Superintend it myself 1 — ^why, not 
exactly, ^here is a bailif, whose 
views of things don't agree with mine, 
and who now and then gives me a 
good deal of trouble ! " 

" Then why don't you discharge 
him altogether 1 " 

"Ah! I wish I could: but 'tis a 
necessary evil. We landed proprie- 
tors, my dear sir, must always be 
plagued with something of the sort. 
For my part» I have found those 



80 



PAUL CLIPPOED. 



cursed bailifis would take away, if they 
could, all the little property one has 
been trying to accumulate. Bat," 
abruptly changing his manner into 
one of great softness, " could I not 
proffer my senrices and my compa- 
nionship to this young lady 1 Would 
she allow me to conduct her home, 
and, indeed, stamp this day upon my 
memory as one of the few delightful 
ones I have ever known]" 

" Thank you, dear sir, " said Mrs. 
Slopperton, answering at once for 
Lucy ; " it is very considerate of you ; 
and I am sure, my love, I could not 
think of letting you go home alone 
with old John, after such an adventure 
to the poor dear doctor." 

Lucy began an excuse which the 
good lady would not hear. But as 
the servant whom Mr. Brandon was 
to send with a lantern to attend his 
daughter home had not arrived, and 
as Mrs. Slopperton, deispite her pre- 
possessions in favour of her husband's 
deliverer, did not for a moment con- 
template his accompanying, without 
any other attendance, her young friend 
across the fields at that unseasonable 
hour, the stranger was forced, for the 
present, to re-assume his seat ; an open 
harpsichord at one end of the room 
gave him an opportunity to make 
some remark upon music, and this 
introducing an eulogium on Lucy's 
voice from Mrs. Slopperton, neces- 
sarily ended in a request to Miss 
Brandon to indulge the stranger with 
a song. Never had Lucy, who was 
not a shy girl — she was too innocent 
to be bashful — ^felt nervous hitherto 
in singing before a stranger ; but now 
she hesitated and faltered, and went 
through a whole ftries of little natural 
affectations before she complied with 
the request. She chose a song com- 
posed somewhat after the old J^iglish 
school, which at that time was reviv- 
ing into fashion. The song, though 
conveying a sort of conceit, was not, 
perhaps, altogether without tender- 



ness;— it was a fibvonrite with Lucy, 
she scarcely knew why, and ran thus :-^ 

LUCYV SONa 

<* Why stflcp, ye fentle flowen, ab, wiiy« 
When tender ere is falling. 
And starlight drinks the happy slgli 
Of winds to fairies oaUing ? 

calling with low and plaining noCOy 
Most like a ringdove chiding. 

Or ilute faint-heard from distant hoat 
O'er smoothest waters gliding. 



Lo, round you steals the wooing 

Lo, on you falls the dwr ! 
O Sweets, awake, for scaopely thesa 

Can oharm while wanting you 1 

Wake ye not yet^whlle fast, below 

The silver time is ileeing ? 
O Heart of mine, those flowers hat sbow 

Thine own contented being. 

The twilight bat preserves the bloom. 

The sun oan bat decay ; 
The warmth that brings the rich perfanub 

Bat steals the life away. 

O Heart ei^y thy present calm. 

Rest peaceful in the shade. 
And dread the sun that gires the balm 

To bid the blossom fade.** 

When Lucy ended, the strangei^s 
praise was less loud than either the 
doctor's or his lady's; but how tar 
more sweet it was ; and for the first 
time in her life Lucy made the dia- 
coveiy, that eyes can praise as well as 
lips. Por our part, we have often 
thought that that discovery is an 
epoch in life. 

It was now that Mrs. Slopperton 
declared her thorough conviction that 
the stranger himself could sing — " He 
had that about him," she said, " which 
made her sure of it." 

"Indeed, dear madam," said he, 
with his usual undefinable half-frank, 
half-latent smile, "my voice is but 
so-so, and my memory so indifferent^ 
that even in the easiest passages I 
soon come to a stand. . My best notes 
are in the falsetto, and as for my 
exeeiUian — ^but we won't talk of that. 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



81 



"Nay, nay; you are m modesC 
said Krs. Slopperton: "I am sure 
yon could oblige us if you would." 

"Your conimaud,''8aid the stranger, 
moving to the harpsichord, " is all- 
sufficient; uid since you, madam" 
(turning to Lucy), " hare chosen a song 
after the old school, may I find pardon 
if I do the same J My selection is, to 
be sure, from a lawless song-book, and 
is supposed to be a baUad by Robin 
Hood, or, at least, one of his merry 
men ; a very different sort of outlaws 
from the knayes who attacked you, 
sir!" 

With this prefiMse, the stranger sung 
to a wild yet jovial air, with a toler- 
able voice, the following efifusion : — 

THB LOVE OF OUR PROFESSION; OR, 
THE ROBBER'S LIFE. 

•« On the stream of the World, the Robber's 
life 
In borne on the bllthese wave ; 
Noir it bounds Into light in a gladsome 
strife, 
Now it laughs in Its hiding oave. 

At his maiden's lattice he stays the rein. 

How still is bis coarser proud ! 
(Bat etfll as a wind when it hangs o*er the 



In the breast of the boding dond)— 

With the champed bit and the arched ci«st, 
And the eye of a listening deer, 

Like valour, frMU most in rest. 
Least ohaf 'd wh«n in career. 

Fit slave to a Lord whom all else ref osa 

To save at his desperate need ; 
By my troth I I think one whom the world 



Hath a right to a gallant steed. 

• Away, my beloved, I hear their fcet I • 

* I blow thee a kiss, my fair. 
And Iph>mise to bring thee, whan next we 
meet, 
A braid for thy bonny hair. 

• Hurra ! for the booty !~my steed, hurra ! 

Thorough bosh, thorough brake, go we ; 
And the coy Moon smiles on our merry way, 
Like my own love— timidly.' 
No. 26. 



The Parson he rides with a jingling pouch. 
How it blabs of the rifled poor ! 

The Courtier he lolls in his gilded coach. 
How it smacks of a sinecure ! 

The Lawyer revolves in his whirling chaise 
Sweet thoughts of a miaohief done ; 

And the Lady that knoweth the card slie 
pUys 
Is counting her guineas won ! 

' Ho. Lady !— What, hoUa, ye sinless men ! 

My claim ye can scarce refuse ; 
For when honest folk live on their neigh- 
bours, then 

They encroach on the Robber's dues ! * 

The Lady changed cheek like a bashful 
maid. 
The Lawyer talk'd wondrous fair, 
The Parson blasphemed, and the Courtier 
pray'd. 
And th« Robber bore off his share. 

< Hurra ! for the revel ! my steed, hurra ; 

Tliorottgh bush, thorough brake, go we I 
It is ever a virtue^ when others pay. 

To rulHe It merrily 1 * 

Oh ! therenever was life like the Robber's— so 

Jolly, and bold, and free ; 
And its end— why, a cheer fh>m the crowd 



And a leap from a leafless tree ! " 

This veiy moral lay being ended, 
Mrs. Slopperton declined it was ex- 
cellent; though she confessed she 
thought the sentiments rather loose. 
Perli^ps the gentleman might be in- 
duced to &vour them with a song of 
a more refined and modem turn — 
something sentimental, in short. 
Glancing towards Lucy, the stranger 
answered, that he only l^ew one song 
of the kind Mrs. Slopperton specified, 
and it was so short, that he could 
scarcely weary her patience by grant- 
ing her request 

At this moment, the river, which 
was easily descried from the windows 
of the room, glimmered in the star- 
light, and directing his looks towards 
the water, as if the scene had suggested 
to him the verses he sung, he gave 
the following stanzas in a very low, 
sweet tone, and with a far purer taste 



PAUL CLIFFOED. 



than, perliapB, would haye suited the 
prece^ng and ruder song. 

THE WISH. 

- As dMpfl the dreaming Eve heiaw, 
Ito holiett star keeps ward abore. 

And jonder wnve begins to gloir, 
Like Friendship bright'nhig into Lore ! 

•* Ah 1 would fhy bosom were that stream* 
Ne'er woo'd sare by the Tirgin air I— ~ 

Ah ! wonld that I were that star* whose beam 
Looks dowB and finds tts image ikerei " 

Scarcely was the song ended, before 
the arrivid of Miss Brandon's servant 
was announced, and her destined 
escort starting up, gallantly assisted 
her with her cloak and her hood — 
happy, no doubt, to escape, in some 
measure, the oyerwhelming compli- 
ments of his entertainers. 

" But," said the doctor, as he shook 
hands with his deliyerer, "by what 
name shall I remember and" — (lifting 
his reverend eyes) — ^"pray for the 
gentleman to whom I am so much 
indebted 1" 

"You are very kind," said the 
stranger; "my name is Clifford. 
Hadiun" (turning to Lucy), "may I 
offer my hand down the stairs 1 " 

Lney accepted the courtesy, and 
the stranger was half way down the 
staircase, when the doctor, stretching 
out his little neck, exclaimed, — 

" Qood eyening, sir i I do hope we 
ghaU meet again." 

"Pear not," said Mr. Oifford, 
laughing gaily, "I am too great a 
traveller to make that hope a matter 
of impossibility. Take care, madam 
—one step more." 

The night was calm and tolerably 
dear, though the moon had not yet 
risen, as Luey and her companion 
passed through the fields, with the 
servmt preeeding them at a little 
distance with the lantern. 

Alter a panae of some length, Clif- 
ford said, wiih4i little hesitation, " Is 



Miss Brandon related to the cele- 
brated barrister of her name 1 '* 

" He \a my uncle," said Lucy ; " do 
you know him ? " 

"Only your undet" said Clifford, 
with vivacity, and evading Lucy's 
question. "I feared — ^hem! hem! 
— ^that is, I thought he might have 
been a nearer relatioo.." There was 
another, but a shorter pause, when 
Clifford resumed, in. a low yoice, 
" Will Miss Brandon think me very 
presumptuous if I say, that & counte- 
nance like hers, once seen, can never 
be forgotten; and I believe, some 
years since, I had the honour to see 
her in London, at the theatre? It 
was but a momentary and distant 
glance that I was then enabled to 
gain; and yet," he added, signifi- 
cantly, " it sufficed I " 

"I was only once at the theatre 
while in London, some years ago," 
said Lucy, a little embarrassed; "and, 
indeed, an unpleasant occurrence 
which happened to my uncle, with 
whom I was, is sufficient to make me 
remember it'* 

" Ha !— and what was it r 

" Why, in going out of the play- 
house, his watch was stolen by some 
dexterous pickpocket." 

"Was the rogue caughll" asked 
tiie stranger. 

"Yes ; and was sent the next day 
to Bridewell. My undo said he was 
extremely young, and yet quite har^ 
dened. I remember that I was foolish 
enough, when I heard of lus sentence, 
to beg very hard that my uncle would 
intercede for him ; but in vain." 

"Did you, indeed, intercede for 
him 1 " said the stranger, in so earnest 
a tone that Lucy coloured for the 
twentieth time that night, without 
seeing any necessity for the blush. 
Clifford continued in a gayer tone, 
"Well, it is surprising how rogues 
hang together. I should not be greatly 
surprised if the person who despoiled 
your uncle were one of the same gang 



PAUL CLIPPOED. 



88 



as the rascal who so terrified your 
worthy friend the doctor. But is this 
. handsome old place your home 1 *' 

" This is my home," answered Lncy ; 
"but it is an old-fi^hioned, strange 
place : and few people, to whom it 
was not endeared by associations, 
would think it handsQme/' 

" Pardon me ! " said Lucy's compa- 
nion, stopping, and sunreying, with a 
look of great interest, the quaint pile, 
which now stood close before them; 
its dark bricks, gable-ends, and ivied 
walls, tinged by the starry light of 
the skies, and contrasted by the river, 
which rolled In silence below. The 
shutters to the large oriel window of 
the room, in wliich the squire usually 
sat, were still unclosed, and the 
steady and warm light of the apart- 
ment shone forth, casting a glow, even 
to the smooth waters of the river : at 
the same moment, too, the friendly 
bark of the house-dog was heard, as 
in welcome ; and was followed by the 
note of the great bell, announcing the 
hour for the last meal of the old- 
fashioned and hospitable family. 

" There is a pleasure in this ! " .said 
the stranger, unconsciously, and with 
a half-sigh : ** I wish I had a home ! " 

" And have you not a home 1 " said 
Lucy, with naiveU, 



" As much as a bachelor can baye, 
perhaps," answered Clifford, recover- 
ing without an eflfort his gaiety and 
self-possession. '' But you know we 
wanderers are not allowed the same 
boast as the more fortunate Bene- 
dicts; we send our hearts in search 
of a home, and we lose the one with- 
out gaining the other. But I keep 
you in the cold, and we are now at 
your door." 

" You will come in, of course 1 " said 
Miss Brandon, "and partake of our 
evening cheer." 

The stranger hesitated for an in- 
stant, and then said in a quick tone, — 

"No I many— many thanks; it is 
ah*eady late. Will Miss Brandon 
accept my g^titude for her conde- 
scension, in permitting the attend- 
ance of one. unknown to her 1 " As 
he thus spoke, Clifford bowed pro- 
foundly over the hand of Ms beautiful 
charge ; and Lucy, wishing him good- 
nighty hastened, with a light step, ta 
her father's side. 

Meanwhile, Clifford, after lingering 
a minute, when the door was closed 
on him, turned abruptly away ; and, 
muttering to himself, repaired with 
rapid steps to whatever object he had 
then in view. 



CHAPTER Xn. 



*' Up roiue ye then 
Hymerzy, merry men .'"-^OANVA BaOiUb. 



WtrsN the moon rose that night, 
there was one spot upon which she 
palely broke, about ten miles distant 
from Warlock, which the forewarned 
traveller would not have been eager to 
pass, but which might not have 
afforded a bad study to such artists as 
have caught from tiie savage painter 
of the Apennines a love for the wild 



and the adventurous. Dark trees, 
scattered fax and wide OTer a broken, 
but verdant sward, made the badc- 
ground ; the moon shimmered through 
the boughs as she came slowly forth 
from her pavilion of cloud, and poured 
a broader beam on two figures just 
advanced beyond the trees. More 
plainly brought into light by her rays 



Si 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



than his companion, here a horseman, 
dad in a short cloak that barely 
covered the crupper of his steed, was 
looking to the priming of a large 
pistol which he had just taken from 
his holster. A slouched hat, and a 
mask of bUck crape, conspired with 
the action to throw a natural suspi- 
cion on the intentions of the rider. 
His horse, a beautiful darl^grey, stood 
quite motionless, with arched neck, 
and its short ears quickly moving to 
and fro, demonstratlYe of that saga- 
cious and antidpative attention which 
characterises the noblest of all tamed 
animals: you would not hava per- 
ceived the impatience of the steed, 
but for the white foam that gathered 
round the bit, and for an occasional 
and unfrequent toss of the head. Be- 
hind this horseman, and partially 
thrown into the dark shadow of the 
trees, another .man, similarly dad, 
was busied in tightening the girths 
of a horse, of great strength and size. 
As he did so, he hummed, with no 
unmusical murmur, the air of a popu- 
lar drinking song. 

" 'Sdeath, Ned ! " said his comrade, 
who had for some time been plunged 
in a BUent revery, — ^"'Sdeath! why 
can you not stifle your love for the 
fine arts, at a moment like thisi 
That hum of thine grows louder every 
moment^ at last I expect it will burst 
out into a full roar ; recollect we are 
not at Qentieman George's now ! " 

'* The more 's the pity, Augustus," 
answered Ned. " Soho, Littie John ; 
woaho, sir! a nice long night like 
this is made on purpose for drinking. 
Will you, sir ? keep still then ! " 

" ' Man never is, but always to be 
blest,' " said the moralising Tomlin- 
8on; "you see you sigh for other 
scenes even when you have a fine 
night and the chance of a God-send 
before you." 

"Ay, the night is fine enough," 
said Ned, who was rather a grumbler, 
as, having finished his groom-like 



operation, he now slowly mounted. 

"D it, Oliver* looks out as 

broadly as if he were going to blab. 
For my part, I love a darh night, 
with a star here and there winldng 
at us, as much as to say, ' I see you, 
my boys, but I won't say a word 
about it,' and a small, pattering, 
drizzling, mizzling rain, that prevents 
Little John's hooft being heard, and 
covers one's retreat^ as it were. Be- 
sides, when one is a little wet, it is 
always necessary to drink the more, 
to keep the cold firom one's stomach 
when one gets home." 

"Or in other words," said Augus- 
tus, who loved a maxim from his very 
heart, "light wet cherishes heavy 
wet!" 

"Good!" said Ned, yawning. 
"Hang it, I wish the captain would 
come. Do you know what o'clock it 
is 1 — Not fax short of eleven, I sup- 
pose 1" 

" About that !— hist, is that a 
carriage 1— no—it is only a sudden 
rise in the wind," 

"Very self-sufficient in Mr. Wind 
to allow himself to be rused without 
our help!" said Ned: "by the way, 
we are of course to go back to the 
Red Cave." 

"So Captfdn Lovett says ^Tell 

me, Ned, what do you think of the 
new tenant Lovett has put into the 
cave?" 

" Oh, I have strange doubts there," 
answered Ned, shaking the huiy 
honours of his head. " I don't half 
like it; consider, the cave is our 
stronghold, and ought only to be 

known " 

"To men of tried virtue," inters 
mpted Tomlinson. "I agree with 
you; I must try and get Lovett to 
discard his singular proUg€, as the 
French say." 

"'Gad, Augustus, how came you 
by so much learning % Yon know all 



* The moon. 



PAUL CLIPFOBD. 



B5 



the poett by heart» to say nothing of 
Latin and French." 

" Oh, hang it, I was brought vp, 
like the captain, to a literary way of 
life." 

"That's what makes yon so thick 
with him, I suppose, ffe writes (and 
flings too) a tolerable song, and is cer- 
tainly a deuced cleyer fellow. What 
a rise in the world he has made I Do 
you recoUect what a poor sort of way 
he was in when you introduced him 
at Gentleman George's 1 and now he 's 
the Captain Crank of the gang." 

"The gang! the company you 
mean. (Sing, indeed 1 One would 
think you were speaking of a knot of 
pickpockets. Yes, Lovett is a deyer 
fellow; and, thanks to me, a yery 
decent philosopher!" It is impos- 
sible to convey to our reader the grave 
air of importance with which Tom- 
linson made his concluding laudation. 
" Yes," said he, after a pause, "he has 
a bold, plain way of viewing things, 
and, like Yoltaire, he becomes a phi- 
losopher by being a Man of Sense ! 
Hist ! see my horse's ears 1 some one 
is coming, though I don't hear him ! 
Keep watch!" 

The robbers grew sUent> the sound 
of distant hooft was indistinctly heard, 
and, as it came nearer, there was a 
crssh of boughs, as if a hedge had 
been ridden through; presently the 
moon gleamed picturesquely on the 
figure of a horsenum, approaching 
through the copse in the rear of the 
robbers. Now he was half seen 
among the sinuosities of his forest- 
path; now in full sight, now alto- 
geth^ hid ; then his horse neighed 
Impatiently; now he again came in 
sight, and in a moment more he had 
joined the pair! The new comer 
was of a tall and sinewy frame, and 
in the first bloom of manhood. A 
frock of dark green, edged with a 
narrow silver lace, and buttoned from 
the throat to the middle, gave due 
effect to an upright mien, a broad 



chest, and a slender, but rounded 
waist, that stood in no need of the 
compression of the tailor. A short 
riding-cloak clasped across the throat 
with a silver buckle, hung pio 
turesquely over one shoulder, while 
his lower limbs were cased in military 
boots, which, though they rose above 
the knee, were evidently neither 
heavy nor embarrassing to the vigo* 
reus sinews of the horseman. The 
caparisons of the steed — ^the bit, the 
bridle, the saddle, the holster — ^were 
according to the most approved 
fitshion of the day; and the steed 
itself was in the highest condition, 
and of remarkable beauty. The 
horseman's air was erect and bold ; a 
small but coal-black mustachio height- 
ened the resolute expression of his 
short, curved lip ; and from beneath 
the large hat which overhung his 
brow, his long locks escaped, and 
waved darkly in the keen night air. 
Altogether, horseman and horse ex- 
hibited a gallant and even a chival- 
rous appearance, which the hour and 
the scene heightened to a dramatie 
and romantic effect. 

"Ha! Lovett." 

"How are you, my merry men T** 
were the salutations exchanged. 

" What news t" said Ned. 

"Brave news! look to it. Ify 
lord and his carriage wUl be by in 
ten minutes at most." 

"Have you got anything more out 
of the parson I frightened so glori- 
ously 1" asked Augustus. 

" No ; more of that hereafter. Now 
for our new prey ! " 

"Are you sure our noble friend 
will be so soon at hand % " said Tom- 
linson, patting his steed, that now 
pawed in excited hilarity. 

" Sure ! I saw him change horses ; 
I was in the stable-yard at the time ; 
he got out for half an hour, to eat, I 
fancy ;— be sure that I played him a 
trick in the meanwhile." 

" What force 1" asked Ned. 



86 



PAUL CLIPPOJftD. 



"Self and servant." 

"The post-boys r' 

'* Ay, I forgot them. Never mind, 
you must frighten them." 

" Forwards ! " cried Ked, and his 
horse sprang from his armed heel. 

"One moment/' said Lovett; "I 
mnst pnt on my mask — soho — Robin, 
soho ! Now for it— forwards ! " 

As the trees rapidly disappeared 
behind them, the riders entered, at a 
hand gallop, on a broad track of 
waste land interspersed with dykes 
and occasionaUy fences of hurdles, 
over which their horses bounded like 
quadrupeds well accustomed to such 
exploits. 

Certainly at that moment, what 
with the fresh air, the fitful moon- 
light now breaking broadly out, now 
lost in a rolling cloud, the exciting 
exercise, and that racy and dancing 
stir of the blood, which all action, 
whether evil or noble in its nature, 
raises in our reins; what with all 
this, we cannot but allow the fascina- 
tion of that lawless life ; — a fascination 
BO greats that one of the most noted 
genUemen highwaymen of the day, 
one too who had received an excellent 
education, and mixed in no inferior 
society, is reported to have said when 
the rope was about his neck, and the 
good Ordinary was exhorting him to 
repent of his ill-spent life, " /Z^spent, 
you dog!— Gad! (smacking his lips) 
it was ddicious I " 

" Fie ! fie ! Mr. , raise your 

thoughts to Heaven I " 

" But a canter across a conunon — 
oh ! " muttered the criminal ; and his 
soul cantered off to eternity. 

So briskly leaped the heart of the 
leader of the three, that, as they now 
came in view of the main road, and 
the distant wheel of a carriage whirred 
on the ear, he threw up his right hand 
with a joyous gesture, and burst into 
a boyish excUunation of hilarity and 
delight. 

"Whist, captain!" said Ned, check- 



ing hlB own spirits with a mock air of 
gravity, "let us conduct ourselves 
like gentlemen ; it is only your low 
fellows who get into such confoundedly 
high spirits; men of the world like 
us should do everything as if their 
hearts were broken." 
"Melancholy* ever cronies with 



* A nuuJm which would have pleated 
Madame de Stael, who thought that phllo- 
aophy oooflisted in fine sentiments. In th« 
Life of Lord Bfnm, jost paUkhed by Mr. 
Moore, the diatingnWied hiognq»h«v makes 
a similar assertion to that of the sage Au- 
gustus : *' When did ever a sublime thought 
spring up in the soul that Melancholy was 
not to be found, however latent, in its neigh- 
bourhood?" Now, with due deference' to 
Mr. Moore, this is a yery sickly piece of 
nonsense^ that has not even an atom of 
truth to stand on. ** Qod said, Let there be 
light, and there was light I "--We should like 
to know where lies the Melancholy of that 
sublime sentence? ** Truth,** says Plato, 
«<i8 thebodyof God,andLigbtis hisafaadow." 
In the name of common sense, in what pos- 
sible comer, in the vicinity of that lofty 
image, lurks the jaundiced face of this 
etenuil hiU nair of Mr. Moore's ? Again, in 
that sublimest passage in the suUimest of 
the Latin poets (Lucretius), which bursts 
forth in honour of Epicurus,* is there any 
thing that speaks to us of sadness ? On tho 
contrary, in the three passages we have re- 
ferred to^ especially in the two first quoted, 
there is something ^endidly luminous and 
cheering. Joy is often a great source of the 
sublime; the suddenness of its ventings 
would alone sufSce to make it so. What 
can be mere sublime than the triumphant 
Psalms of David, tntoxloated as they are 
with an almost delirinm of transport ? Even 
in the gloomiest passages of the poets, where 
we reoognise sublimity, we do not often find 
fnelanchoty. We are stricken by terror, 
appalled by awe, but seldom softened into 
sadness. In fact, Melanoholy rather belongs 
to another class of feelings than those excited 
by a sublime passage or those which en- 
gender its composition. On one hand, in the 
loftiest flights of Homer, Milton, and Shak- 
speare, we will ohallenge a critic to diaoover 
this "green sickness" whioh Mr. Moore 
would convert into the magnificence of the 

* " Primus Grains homo mortaleis tollere, 
contra," &c. 

To these instances wemightespeoially add 
the odes of Pindai^ Horace, and Campbell. 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



87 



Sublimity, and Courage is sublime," 
sud AugnstuB, with the pomp of a 
mazim-maker. 

" Now for the hedge ! ** cried Lovett, 
imheeding his comrades^ and his hone 
sprang into the road. 

The three men now were drawn up 
quite still and motionless by the side 
of the hedge. The broad road lay 
before them, carving out of sight on 



plague. On the ofher hand^ where Is the 
evidenoe that Melancholy made the haUtnal 
temperaments of those divine men? Of 
Homer we know nothing ; of Shakqware 
and Milton, we haye reaaon to believe the 
ordinary tempenunent was oonstitutionatly 
oheerfoL The latter beaats of It. Athoo. 
sand instanoea, in contradicti o n to an asser- 
tion it were not worth whUe to contradict, 
were it not so generally popular, so highly 
sanctioned, and so eminently pernicious to 
everything that is manly and noUe in litera- 
ture, rush to our memory. Bnt we think 
we have already quoted enough to diq^ve 
the sraitenoe, which the illustrious bio> 
grapher has himself diqtroved in more than 
twenty passages, which, ifhtia piessed to 
forget, we thank Heaven, posterity never 
wilL Now we are on the subject of this 
Lif^ so excellent in many respects, we 
eannot bnt observe that we think the whole 
Boope of its phUoi&phy utterly unworthy of 
the accomplished mind of the writer ; the 
phikMophy oonsists of an mpardonable dis- 
torting of general truths, to suit the pecu- 
liarities of an individual, noble indeed, but 
proverbiallymorbidandecoentric. AstrUdng 
Instance of this ooours in the laboured asser* 
tion that poets make but sorry domestic 
characters. What ! because Lord Byron is 
said to have been a bad husband, was (to go 
no further back for examples)— was Walter 
Scott a bad husband? or was Campbell ? or 
is Mr. Moore himself? Why, in the name 
of justice, should it be Insinuated that 
Milton was a bad husband, when, as far as 
any one can judge of the matter, it was Mrs. 
Milton who was the bad wife? And why, 
oh I why should we be told by Mr. Moore, a 
man who, to judge by Captain Rock and the 
Epicurean, wants neither learning nor dili- 
gences-why are we to be told, with peculiar 
«mphasis, that Lord Bacon never married, 
when Lord Bacon not only married, but his 
marriage was to advantageous as to be an 
absolute epoch in his career ? Beally, really, 
one begins to believe that there is not such 
a thing as a fact In the world I 



either side; the ground was harden- 
ing under an early tendency to frost, 
and the clear ring of i^PP'^^'^li'U^ 
hoofs sounded on tbe ear of the rob- 
bers, ominous, haply, of the chinks of 
"more attractive metal" about> if 
Hope told no flattering tale, to be 
their own. 

Presently the long-expected vehicle 
made its appearance at the turn of 
the road, and it rolled n^dly on 
behind four fleet poet-horses. 

'* You, Ned, with your large steed, 
stop the horses ; you Augustus, bully 
the post-boys; leave me to do the 
resV' said the captain. 

'' As agreed," returned Ned, laconi- 
cally. ** Now, look at me ! " and the* 
horse of the vain highwaymaii sprang 
flrom its shelter. So instantaneous 
were the operations of ihese experi- 
enced tacticians, that Lovett's orders 
were almost executed in a briefer ;time 
than it had cost him to give them. 

The carriage being stopped, and 
the post-boys white and tr6mbling> 
with two pistols (levelled by Augustus 
and Pepper) cocked at their heads, 
Lovett dismounting, threw open the 
door of the carriage, and in a very 
civil tone, and with a rezy bland 
address, accosted the inmate. 

" Do not be alarmed, my lord, you 
are perfectly safe; we only require 
your watch and purse." 

" Beally," answered a voice still 
softer than that of the robber, while 
a marked and somewhat French coun- 
tenance, crowned with a fur cap, 
peered forth at the arrester, — ** really, 
sir, your request is so modest that I 
were worse than cruel to refiise you. 
My purse is not very fbU, and you 
may as well have it as one of my ras- 
cally duns ; but my watch I have a 

love for, and " 

" I understand you, my lord," inter- 
rupted the highwayman. "What do 
you value your watch atT 

" Humph — ^to you it may be worth 
some twenty guineas." 



88 



PAUL CLIFFOBD. 



''Allow me to see it!" 

« Your curiosity is extremely gra- 
Hfymg" returned the nobleman, as 
with great reluctance he drew forth 
a gold repeater, set^ as was sometimes 
the &shion of that day, in precious 
stones. The highwayman looked 
slightly at the bauble. 

" Your lordship," said he, with great 
grayity, " was too modest in your 
calcuktion— yourtaste reflects greater 
cre,dit on you : allow me to assure you 
that your watch is worth fifty guineas 
to us at the least. To shew you that 
I think so most sincerely, I will either 
keep it, and we will say no more on the 
matter ; or I will return it to you upon 
your word of honour that you will give 
me a cheque for fifty guineas pay- 
able, by your real bankers, to ' bearer 
for sel£' Take your choice; it is 
quite immaterial to me ! *' 

" Upon my honour, sir," said the 
trayeller, with some surprise strug- 
gling to his features, " your coolness 
and self-possessionare quite admirable. 
I see you know the world.'* 

" Your lordship flatters me 1 " re- 
turned Lovett, bowing. " How do you 
decide?" 

" Why, is it possible to write drafts 
without ink, pen, or paper 1" 

LoYett drew back, and while he was 
searching in his pockets for writing 
implements, which he always carried 
about him, the traveller seized the 
opportunity, and, suddenly snatch- 
ing a pistol from the pocket of the 
carriage, levelled it full at the head 
of the robber. The traveller was an 
excellent and practised shot — he was 
almost within arm's length of his in- 
tended victim— his pistols were the 
earj of all his Irish friends. He 
pulled the trigger — the powder flashed 
in the pan, and the highwayman, not 
even changing countenance, drewforth 
a small ink-bottle, and placing a steel 
pen in it, handed it to the nobleman, 
saying, with incomparable sangfroid, 
*' Would you like, my lord, to try the 



other pistol? If so, oblige me by a 
quick aim, as you must see the neces- 
sity of despatch. If not» here is the 
back of a letter, on which you can 
write the draft** 

The traveller was not a man i^t to 
become embarrassed in anything-* 
save his drcumstanoes ; but he cer- 
tainly felt a little discomposed and 
confosed as he took the paper, and, 
uttering some broken words, wrote the 
cheque. The highwayman glanced 
over it, saw it was written according 
to form, and then with a bow of cool 
respect, returned the watch, and shut 
the door of the carriage. 

Meanwhile the servant had been 
shivering in front — ^boxed up in that 
solitary convenience termed, not eu- 
phoniously, a dickey. Him the robber 
now briefly accosted. 

"What have you got about yon 
belonging to your master ?" 

" Only his pills, your honour ! which 
I forgot to put in the " 

" Pills !— throw them down to me I * 
The valet tremblingly extracted from 
his side-pocket a little box, which he 
threw down, and Lovett caught in his 
hand. 

He opened the box, counted the 
pills— 

" One, — two, — four, — twelve, — 
Aha!" He reopened the carriage 
door. 

" Are these your pills, my lord V 

The wondering peer, who had begun 
to resettle himself in the comer of his 
carriage, answered " that they were ! " 

** My lord, I see you are in a high 
state of fever ; you were a littledelirions 
just now when you snapped a pistol 
in your friend's face. Permit me to 
recommend you a prescription — swal- 
low off all these pills !" 

"My God!" cried the traveller, 
startled into earnestness : " What do 
you meani — twelve of those pills 
would kill amanl" 

" Hear him !" said the robber, ap- 
pealing to his comrades, who roared 



PAUL CLIFFOED. 



89 



with laughter. "What, my lord, wonld 
yoa rebel against your doctor 1 — Fie^ 
fie I be persuaded." 

And with a soothing gesture he 
■tretched the pill-box towards the 
recoiling nose of the trayeller. But 
though a man who could as well as 
any one make the best of a bad con- 
dition, the trareller was especially 
careful of his health ; and so obstinate 
was he where that was concerned, that 
he would rather have submitted to the 
effectual operation of a bullet^ than 
incurred the chance operation of an 
extra pill. He, therefore, with great 
indignation, as the box was still ex- 
tended towards him, snatched it from 
the hand of the robber, and, flinging 
it across the road, said, with dignity : — 

" Do your worst, rajscals f But, if 
you leave me alive, you shall repent 
the outrage you have offered to one of 
his Majesty's household!" Then, as 
if becoming sensible of the ridicule of 
affecting too much in his present situ- 
ation, he added in an altered tone : 
" And now, for Heaven's sake, shut 
the door ; and if you must kill some- 
body, there 's my servant on the box 
— ^he's paid for it." 

This speech made the robbers laugh 
more than ever; and Lovett, who 
liked a joke even better than a purse, 



immediately closed the carriage-dooi» 

" Adieu t my lord ; and let me give 
you a piece of advice : whenever yon 
get oat at a country inn, and stay half- 
an-hourwMleyonrhorses are changing, 
take your pistols with yon, or you may 
chance to have the chaige drawn.** 

With this admonition the robber 
withdrew ; and seeing that the valet 
held out to him a long green purse, 
he said, gently shaking his head, — 

" Rogues should not prey on each 
other, my good fellow. You rob your 
master-HK> do we — ^let each keep what 
he has got." 

Long Ned and Tomlinson then 
backing their horses, the carriage was 
freed ; and away started the post-boys 
at a pace which seemed to shew less 
regard for life than the robbers them- 
selves had evinced. 

Meanwhile the captain remounted 
his steed, and the three confederates, 
bounding in gallant style over the 
hedge through which they had pre- 
viously gained the road, galloped off 
in the same direction they had come ; 
the moon ever and anon bringing 
into light their flying figures, and 
the sound of many a joyous peal of 
laughter ringing through the distance 
along the firosty air. 



PAUL CLIFFQBD. 



CHAPTER Xm.; 
*«Wliatisber«f— 
oftUstrffli 



^ Omm then ft osHate laid,Mit» Hfnay diMt, 

Fmh M ft teidfgxoom.'' 

i« I do not kMw tke mftB ] 
SoMMmuthfttqiAreGMaiiuI Hei 
Beisftgraat obflcnrer: lad he looks 
Qoite throogh the deedsof men. 
et/tenhemUflB; butmaOmtnaoA^wart, 
Aft if he mocked faimaelf or loonied bit ipltftf 
That ooald be moved to mile ftft anjrtbiiig.'* 






Jfaim$C0$ar. 



Ths next day, late ai noon, aa La<7 
waa Bitting with her &ther, not aa 
QBnal engi^ged either in vork or in 
reading, but seemingly quite idle, 
with her pretty foot npon the squire's 
. gouty stool, and her qrea fixed on 
the carpet, while her hands (never 
were handa so soft and so small as 
Lucy's, though they may hare been 
eclipsed in whiteness) were lightly 
dasped together and reposed listlessly 
on her ](neea, — the surgeon of the 
viUage abruptly entered with a &ce 
full of news and honor. Old Squire 
Brandon waa one of those persons 
who always hear news, whatever it 
may be, later than any of their neigh- 
bours ; and it was not till all the gossips 
of the neighbourhood had picked the 
bone of tiie matter quite bare, that 
he was now informed, through the 
medium of Mr. Pillum, that Lord 
Mauleverer had on the preceding 
night been stopped by three highway- 
men in his road to his country seat, 
and robbed to a considerable amount 

The £une of the worthy Doctor 
Slopperton's mal*adventure having, 
long ere this, been spread fax and 
wide, the whole neighbourhood was 
naturally thrown into great conster- 
nation. Magistrates were sent to, 



hirge dogs borrowed, blunderbusses 
cleaned, and a subscription made 
throughout the pariah for the raising 
of a patroL There seemed little doubt 
but that the offenders, in either case, 
were members of the same horde ; and 
Mr. PUlum, in his own mind, waa per- 
fectly convinced that they meant to 
enciuach upon his trade, and destroy 
all the surrounding houaeholdera who 
were worth the trouble. 

The next week passed in the moat 
diligent endeavonia, on the part of 
the neigbouring magistrates and yeo- 
maniy, to detect and seize the robberc, 
but their labours were utterly fruit- 
less; and one justice of peace, who 
had been particularly active, waa 
himself entirely " cleaned out ** by an 
old gentleman, who, under the name 
of Mr. Bagshot — ^rather an ominoua 
cognomen — offered to conduct the 
unsuspicious magistrate to the veiy 
spot where the miscreants might be 
seized. No sooner, however, had he 
drawn the poor justice away from hia 
comrades into a lonely partof the road, 
than he stripped him to hia shirt. 
He did not even leave hia worship hia 
flaunel drawers, though the weather 
was as bitter aa the dog days of 
eighteen hundred and twenty-nine. 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



91 



" 'Tis not my way," said the hoary 
raffian, when the justice petitioned at 
least for the latter article of attire; 
" 'tiB not my way — I he's slow about 
my work, but I does it thoroughly — 
so off with your ragB^old 'un.'* 

This was, however, the only addi- 
tional instance of aggression in the 

• yicinity of Warlock Manor-house ; 
and, by degrees, as the autumn de- 
clined, and no&rther enormities were 
perpetrated, people began to look out 
for a new topic of conversation. This 
was afforded them by a piece of unex- 

. pected good fortune to Lucy Brandon. 
Mrs. Warner, an old lady to whom 
she was slightly related, and with 
whom she had been residing during 
her brief and only visit to London, 
died suddenly, and in her will de- 
clared Lucy to be her sole heiress. 
The property, which was in the funds, 

, and which amounted touxty thousand 
pounds, was to be enjoyed by Miss 
Brandon immediately on her attaining 
her twenty-first year; meanwhile the 
executors to the will were to pay to 
the young heiress the annual sum of 
six hundred pounds. The joy which 
this news created in Warlock Manor- 
house may easily be conceived. The 
squire projected improvements here, 
and repairs there; and Lucy, poor 
girl, who had no idea of money for 
herself, beyond the purchase of a new 
pony, or a gown from London, seconded 
with affectionate pleasure all her 

. £Bither's suggestions, and delighted 
herself with the reflection that those 
fine plans, which were to make the 
Brandons greater than the Brandons 
ever were before, were to be realised 
by her own, own money ! It was at 
this identical time that the surround- 
ing gentry made a simultaneous and 
grand discovery— viz. of the asto- 
nishing merits and great good sense 
of Mr. Joseph Brandon. It was a pity, 
they observed, that he was of so 
reserved and shy a turn — it was 
not becoming in a gentleman of so 



ancient a fitmily. But why should they 
not endeavour to draw him from his 
retirement into those more public 
scenes which he was doubtless well 
calculated to adorn 1 

Accordingly, as sooii as the first 
month of mourning had expired, 
several coaches, chariots, chaises, and 
horses, which had never been seen at 
Warlock Manor-house before, arrived 
there one alter the other in the most 
friendly manner imaginable. Their 
owners admired every thing — the 
house was such a fine relic of old 
times ! — for their parts they liked an 
oak-staircase! — and those nice old 
windows I — and what a beautiful pear 
cock ! — and, Heaven save the mark ! 
that magnificent chestnut-tree was 
worth a forest I — Mr. Brandon was 
requested to make one of the county 
hunt, not that he any longer hunted 
himself but that his name would give 
such consequence to the thing 1 — 
Miss Lucy must come to pass a week 
with her dear friends the Honourable 
Misses Sansterrel — Augustus, their 
brother, had such a sweet lady's horse ! 
— ^In short, the customary change 
which takes place in people's charac- 
ters after the acquisition of a fortune, 
took place in the characters of Mr. 
and Miss Brandon ; and when peo^de 
become suddenly amiable, it is no 
wonder that they should suddenly 
gain a vast accession of Mends. 

But Lucy, though she had seen so 
little of the world, was not quite 
blind ; and the squire, though rather 
obtuse, was not quite a fool. If they 
were not rud,o to their new visitors, 
they were by no means overpowered 
with gratitude at their eoAdesoension. 
Mr. Brandon declined subscribing to 
the hunt, and Miss Lucy laughed in 
the face of the Honourable Augustus 
Sansterre. Among their new guests, 
however, was one who to great know- 
ledge of the world joined an extrarae 
and even brilliant polish of manners, 
which at least prevented deceit from 



92 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



being disagreeable, if not wholly from 
being unseen : — this was the new 
lieutenant of the county. Lord Maule- 
Terer. 

Though posBessed of an immense 
property in that district, Lord Manle- 
yerer had hitherto resided but little 
on his estates. He was one of those 
gay lords who are now somewhat un- 
common in this country after mature 
manhood is attained, who live an easy 
and rakish life, ratiier among their 
parasites than their equals, and who 
yet, by aid of an agreeable manner, 
natunU talents, and a certain graceful 
and light cultivation of mind (not the 
less pleasant for its being universally 
coloured with worldliness, and an 
amusing rather than offenuve regard 
for self), never lose their legitimate 
station in society ; who are oracles in 
dress, equipages, cookery, and beauty, 
and, having no character of their own, 
are able to fix by a single word a cha- 
racter upon any one else. Thus, while 
Mauleverer rather lived the dissolute 
life of a young nol>leman, who prefers 
the company of agreeable demireps to 
that of wearisome duchesses, than 
maintained the decorous state befit- 
ting a mature age, and an immense 
interest in the country, — ^he was quite 
as popular at court, where he held a 
situation in the household, as he was 
in the green-room, where he enchanted 
every actress on the right side of forty. 
A word from him in the legitimate 
quarters of power went farther than 
an harangue from another; and even 
the prudes, — at least, all those who 
had daughters, — confessed " that his 
lordship was a very interesting cha- 
racter." Like Brandon, his fimiiliar 
friend, he had risen in the world 
(from the Irish baron to the English 
earl) without having ever changed his 
politics, which were ultra-Tory ; and 
we need not observe that he was 
deemed, like Brandon, a model of 
public integrity. He was possessed 
of two places under government^ siz 



votes in the House of Commons, and 
eight livings in the church ; and we 
must add, in justice to his loyal and 
religious principles, that there was 
not in the three kingdoms a firmer 
friend to the existing establishments. 

Whenever a nobleman does not 
many, people try to take away his 
character. Lord Mauleverer had 
never married ; the Whigs had been 
very bitter on the subject ; they even 
alluded to it in the House of Com- 
mons, that chaste assembly, where 
the never-fiiiling subject of reproach 
against Mr. Pitt was the not being of 
an amorous temperament; but they 
had not hitherto prevailed against the 
stout earl's celibacy. It is true, that 
if he was devoid of a wife, he had 
secured to himself plenty of substi- 
tutes ; his profession was that of a man 
of gallantry ; and though he avoided 
the daughters, it was only to make 
love to the mothers. But his lord- 
ship had now attained a certain age, 
and it was at last circulated among his 
friends that he intended to look out 
for a Lady Mauleverer. 

"Spareyour caresses," said his toady- 
in-chief to a certain duchess, who had 
three portionless daughters: "Maule- 
verer has sworn that he will not choose 
among your order: you know his high 
politics, and you will not wonder at 
his dechuring himself averse in matri- 
mony as in morals, to a community of 
goods,** 

The announcement of the earl's 
matrimonial design, and the circu- 
lation of this anecdote, set all the 
cleigymen's daughters in England on 
ablaze of expectation; and when Maul- 
everer came to ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ shire, upon ob- 
taining the honour of the lieutenancy, 
to visit his estates and court the friend- 
ship of his neighbours, there was not 
an old-young lady of forty, who worked 
in broad-sUtch and had never been to 
London above a week at a time, who 
did not deem herself exactly the sort 
of person sure to fiudnate his lordship. 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



9S 



It WB0 late in the afternoon when 
tlie tniyeUing chariot of this distin- 
gnifthed person, preceded bj two ont- 
ridera in the earl's nndresB livery of 
dark green, stopped at the hall door 
of Warlock House. The sqnire was 
at home, actually and metaphorically; 
for he never dreamed of denying him- 
self to any one, gentle or simple. The 
door of the carriage being opened, 
there descended a small slight man, 
richly dressed (for lace and silk vest- 
ments were not then quite discarded, 
though gradually growing less the 
mode), and of an air prepossessing, 
and ditHnguithed, rather than dig- 
n^ied. His years,— for his counte- 
nance, though handsome, was deeply 
marked, and evinced the tokens of 
dissipation, — seemed more numerous 
than they really were; and, though 
not actually past middle age. Lord 
Mauleverer might fiurlyhave received 
the unpleasing epithet of elderly. 
However, his step was firm, his gait 
upright, and his figure was consider- 
ably more youthfol than his phy- 
siognomy. The first compliments of 
the day having passed, and Lord 
Mauleverer having expressed his con- 
cern that his long and frequent absence 
from the county had hitherto pre- 
vented his making the acquaintance 
of Mr. Brandon, the brother of one of 
his oldest and most esteemed friends, 
conversation became on both sides 
rather an effort. Mr. Brandon first 
introduced the subject of the weather, 
and the turnips — ^inquired whether 
his lordship was not very fond — (for 
his part he used to be, but lately the 
rheumatism had disabled him, he 
hoped his lordship was not subject to 
that complcuni)--qf$JiooUngf 

Catching oiUy the last words, — ^for, 
besides the awful complexity of the 
squire's sentences, Mauleverer was 
slightly afflicted by the aristocratic 
complaint of deafness^ — the earl 
answered with a smile, — 

" The comphunt of shooting I — 



Very good indeed, Mr. Brandon ; it is 
seldom that I have heard so witty a 
phrase. No, I am not in the least 
troubled with that epidemic. It is a 
disorder very prevalent in this county." 

" My lord t" said the squire, rather 
puzzled — and then observing ihat 
Mauleverer did not continue, he 
thought it expedient to start another 
subject. 

" I was exceedingly grieved to hear 
that your lordship, in travelling to 
Mauleverer Pftrk — (that is a very 
ugly road across the waste land ; the 
roads in this county are in genenX 
pretty good—for my own part, when 
I was a magistrate I was very strict in 
that respect) — was robbed. You have 
not yet> I believe, detected — (for my 
part^ though I do not profess to be 
much of a politician, I do think that' 
in afiairs of robbery there is a great 
deal of remissness in the minUten) — 
the vUlaina /** 

"Ourfriendisdisafiected!" thought 
the lord-lieutenant, imagining that 
the last opprobrious term was applied 
to the respectable personages specified 
in the parenthesis. Bowing with a 
polished smile to the squire, Maule- 
verer replied aloud, that he was 
extremely sorry that their conduct 
(meaning the ministers) did not meet 
with Mr. Brandon's approbation. 

"Well," thought the squire, "that 
is playing the courtier with a ven- 
geance!" "Meet with my approba- 
tion !" said he, warmly : "how could 
your lordship think me— (for though 
I am none of your saints, I am, I hope, 
a good Christian; an excellent one 
judging from your words, your lord" 
thip must he!) wpartiai to crime!" 

"7 partial to crime 1" returned 
Mauleverer, thinking he had stumbled 
unawares on some outrageous demo- 
crat, yet smiling as softly as usual ; 
'* you judge me harshly, Mr. Brandon t 
you must do me more justice, and you 
can only do that by knowing mt 
better.** 



94 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



Whatever unlucky answer the sqaire 
might otherwise hare made, was cut 
off by the entrance of Lucy ; and the 
earl, secretly delighted at the inter- 
ruption, rose to render her his homage, 
and to remind her of the introduction 
he had formerly been so happy as to 
obtain to her through the friendship 
of Mr. William Brandon, — "a Mend- 
ship," said the gallant nobleman, "to 
which I hare often before been in- 
debted, but which was never more 
agreeably exerted on my behalf." 

Upon this Lucy, who, though she 
had been so painfully bashful during 
her meeting with Mr. Clifford, felt 
no overpowering diffidence in the 
presence of so much greater a person, 
replied laughingly, and the earl re- 
joined by a second compliment. Con- 
versation was now no longer an effort ; 
and Mauleverer, the most consummate 
of epicures, whom even royalty trem- 
bled to ask without preparation, on 
being invited by the unconscious 
squire to partake of the family dinner, 
eagerly accepted the invitation. It 
was long since the knightly walls of 
Warlock had been honoured by the 
presence of a guest so courtly. The 
good squire heaped hib plate with a 
profiision of boiled beef; and while 
the poor earl was contemplating in 
dismay the alps upon alps which he 
was expected to devour, the grey- 
headed butler, anxious to serve him 
with alacrity, whipped away the over- 
loaded plate, and presently returned 
it, yet more astoundingly surcharged 
with an additional world of a compo- 
sition of stony colour and sudorific 
aspect, which, after examining in 
mute attention for some moments, 
and carefully removing as well as he 
was able, to the extreme edge of his 
plate, the earl discovered to be suet 
pudding. 

" You eat nothing, my lord," cried 
the squire ; *' let me pve you (this ip 
more underdone ;)" holding between 
blade and fork in middle viir a horrent 



fragment of scarlet, shaking its gory 
locks, — " another sUce." 

Swift at the word dropped upon 
Mauleverer's plate the hai^y finger 
and ruthless thumb of the gr^-headed 
butler. 

"Not a morsel more," cried the 
earl, struggling with the murtherous 
domestic. " My dear sir, excuse me ; 
I assure you I have never ate such a 
dinner before — never ! " 

"Nay, now!" quoth the squire, 
expostulating, " you really — (and this 
air is so keen that your lordship should 
indulge your appetite, if you foUaw 
the phpfncian*s advicef) eat nofhing ! " 

Again Mauleverer was at fault 

"The physicians are right, Mr. 
Brandon," said he ; "very right, and 
I am forced to live abstemiously : 
indeed I do not know whether, if I 
were to exceed at your hospitable 
table, and attack all that you would 
bestow upon me, I should ever re- 
cover it. You would have to seek a 
new lieutenant for your charming 
county^ and on the tomb of the last 
Mauleverer the hypocritical and un- 
related heir would inscribe, ' Died of 
the visitation of Beef, John, Earl, &c.' " 

Plain as the meaning of this speech 
might have seemed to others, the 
squire only laughed at the effeminate 
appetite of the speaker, and inclined 
to think him an excellent fellow for 
jesting so good-humouredly on his 
own physical infirmity. But Lucy 
had the tact of her sex, and, taking 
pity on the earl's calamitous situation, 
though she certainly never guessed at 
Its extent, entered with so much grace 
and ease into the conversation which 
he sought to establish between them, 
that Mauleverer's gentleman, who had 
hitherto been pushed aside by the zeal 
of the grey-headed butler, found an 
opportunity, when the squire was 
laughing and the butler staring, to 
steal away the overburthened plate 
unsuspected and unseen. 

In spite, however, of these evils of 



PAUL CLIPPOBD. 



95 



board and lodgment^ Maoleviarer wm 
exceedingly well pleaaed irith his 
Tiiit ; nor did he tenninato it till 
the shades of night had begun to 
dosoy and the distaace from his own 
residence conspired with experience 
to remind him that it was posnble 
for a highwayman's andadty to attack 
the equipage even of Lord Manlererer. 
He then reluctantly re-entered his 
carriage, and, bidding the postilions 
drive as fast as pNOsslble, wrapped him- 
self in his roqudaire, and divided his 
thoughts between Ln<7 Brandon and 
the honuird au graUn with which he 
purposed to console himself imme- 
diately on his return' home. However, 
Pate, which mocks our most cheridied 
hopes, ordained that on arriving at 
Mauleverer Park the owner should be 
suddenly afflicted with a loss of appe- 
titOy a coldness in the limbs, a pain in 
the chest, and various other ungra- 
cious symptoms of portending malady. 
Lord Mauleverer went straight to bed ; 
he remained there for some days, and 
when he recovered his phymcians 
ordered him to Bath. The Whig 
Methodists, who hated him, ascribed 
his illness to Providence; and his 
lordship was firmly of opinion that it 
should be ascribed to the beef and 
puddings However this be, there was 
an end, for the present^ to the hopes 
of young ladies of forty, and to* the 
intended festivities at Mauleverer 
Padc <'Qood Heavens!" said the 
earl, as his carriage, wheels turned 
from his gates, " what a loss to coun*> 
tiy tradesmen may be oceastoned by 
a piece of undertkue beef, especiaUy 
if it be boiled r 

About a fortnight had elapsed since 
Mauleverer's meteoric visit to Warlock 
House, when the squire reeeived ihmi 
his brother the following epiatle >— - 

" My deab Josbph, 
" You know my numerous avoca-- 
tionsy and, amid, the press of business 
which surrounds me^ will, I am sure, 



forgive me for being a Tery negligent 
and remiss correspondent. Neverthe- 
less, I assure you, no one can more sin- 
cerely sympathise in that good fortune 
which has befallen my charming niece, 
and of which your last letter informed 
me, than I do. Pray give my best love 
to her, and tell her how complacently 
I look forwsrd to the brUli«it sensa- 
tion she will create, when her beauty 
is enthroned upon that rank which, 
I am quite sure, it will one day or 
other cenmisnd. 

" You are not aware, perhaps, my 
dear Joseph, that I have for some 
time been in a veiy weak and de- 
clining state of health. The old 
nervous complaint in my &oe has of 
late attacked me grievously, and the 
anguish is sometimes so great that I 
am scarcely able to bear it. I believe 
the great demand which my profession 
makes upon a frame of body never 
strong, ahd now beginning prema- 
turely to fael the infirmities of time, is 
the real cause of my maladies. Atlast^ 
however, I must absolutely punish 
my pockety and indulge my inclina- 
tions by a short respite from toil, 
nie doctors— sworn friends, you know, 
to the iawyers^Hsinoe they make eom- 
men cause against mankind, have 
peremptorfly ordered me to lie by, 
and to try a short course of air, exer- 
cise, social amuaement8,and the waters 
of Bath. Portunattely this is vacation 
time, and I can afford ^to lose a few 
weeks of emolument, in order, per- 
haps, to secure many years of life. I 
purpose, then, early next week, re- 
pairing to that melancholy reservoir of 
the gay, where persons danoe out of 
life and are fiddled across the Styx. 
In a word, I shall make one of the 
adventurers after health, who seek the 
goddess at King Bladud's pump-room. 
Will yon and dear Lu<7 join me therel 
I ask it of your friendship, and I am 
quite sure that neither of you will 
shrink aghast at the proposal of 
solacing your invalid relation. At 



96 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



the same time tliat I am recoyering 
healthy my pretty niece will be ayeng- 
ing Pluto, by conngning to his 
dominions many a better and younger 
hero in my stead. And it will be a 
double pleasure to me to see all the 
hearts, &C. — I break off, for what 
can I say on that subject which the 
little coquette does not anticipated 
It is high time that Lucy should 
see the world ; and though there are 
many at Bath, aboye all places, to 
whom the heiress will be an object of 
interested attentions, yet there are 
also many in that crowded city by no 
means undesenring her notice. What 
say you, dear Joseph 1 — ^But I know 
already; you will not refuse to keep 
company with me in my little holiday, 
and Lucy's eyes are already sparking 
at the idea of new bonnets, Milsom 
Street, a thousand adorers, and the 
Pump-room. 

" £yer, dear Joseph, 

** Tours affectionately, 
"William BaANDOir. 

•* P-S.— I find that my Mend Lord 
Mauleyerer is at Bath ; I own that 
is an additional reason to take me 
thither ; by a letter firom him, receiyed 
the other day, I see that he has paid 
you a yisit, and he now rayes about 
his host and the heiress. Ah, Miss 
Luqr, Miss Lucy! are you going to 
conquer him whom all London has, 
for years more than I care to tell 
(yet not many, for Mauleyerer is 
still young), assailed in yaini Answer 
mer' 

This letter created a considerable 
excitement in Warlock House. The 
old squire was extremely fond of his 
brother, and grieyed to the heart to 
find that he spoke so discouragingly 
of his health. Nor did the squire for 
a moment hesitate at accepting the 
proposal to join his distinguished rela- 
tiye at Batii. Lucy also, — who had 
for her uncle, possibly from his pro- 



fiise yet not indelicate flattery, a yerj 
great regard and interest, though she 
had seen but little of him, — surged the 
squire to lose no time inarrangmg 
matters for their departure, so as to 
precede the barrister, and prepare 
eyeiything for his arrival. Thefiither 
and daughter being thus agreed, there 
was little occasion for delay ; an answer 
to the inyalid's letter was sent by 
return of post, and on the fourth day 
from their receipt of the said epistle, 
the good old squire^ his daughter, 
a countiy girl, by way of abigail-* 
the grey-h^ed butler, and two or 
three liye pets, of the size and habits 
most conyenient for trayelling, were 
on their way to a city which at that 
time was gayer, at least, if somewhat 
less splendid, than the metropolis. 

On the second day of their arriyal 
at Bath, Brandon (as in future, to 
ayoid confusion, we shall call the 
younger brother, giying to the elder 
his patriarchal title of squire) joined 
them. 

He was a man seemingly rather fond 
of parade, though at heart he dis- 
relished and despised it He came to 
their lodging, which had not been 
selected in the yery best part of the 
town, in a carriage and six, but at> 
tended only by one fayourite servant. 

They found him in better looks and 
better spirits than they had antici- 
pated. Few persons, when he liked 
it, could be more agreeable thaa 
WUliam Brandon ; but at times there 
mixed with his conversation a bitter 
sarcasm, probably a habit acquired in 
his profession, or an occasional tinge 
of morose and haughty sadness, possi- 
bly the consequence of his ill-health. 
Tet his disorder, which was somewhat 
approaching to that painful affliction 
the tic doloureux, though of fits move 
rare in occurrence thiua those of that 
complaint ordinarily are, never seemed 
eyen for an instant to operate upon 
his mood, whatever that might be. 
That disease worked unseen; not a 



PAUL CLIFPOKD. 



» 



muscle of his face appeared to qniyer; 
the smile never vanished from his 
month, the blandness of his voice 
never grew faint as with pain, and, in 
the midst of intense torture, his reso- 
lute and stem mind conquered every 
external indication; nor could the 
most observant stranger have noted 
the moment when the fit attacked or 
released him. There was something 
inscrutable about the man. You felt 
that you took his character upon trust, 
and not on your own knowledge. The 
acquaintance of years would have left 
you equally dark as to his vices or his 
virtues. He varied often, yet in each 
variation he was equally undiscover- 
able. Was he performing a series of 
parts, or was it the ordinary changes 
of a man's true temperament that you 
beheld in him) Commonly smooth, 
quiet, attentive, flattering in social 
intercourse; he was known in the 
senate and courts of law for a cold 
asperity, and a caustic venom, — 
scarcely rivalled even in those arenas 
of contention. It seemed as if the 
bitterer feelings he checked in private 
life, he delighted to indulge in public. 
Tet, even there, he gave not way to 
momentary petulance or gushing pas- 
sion ; all seemed with him systematic 
sarcasm, or habitual sternness. He 
outraged no form of ceremonial, or 
of society. He stung, without appear- 
ing conscious of the sting ; and his 
antagonist writhed not more beneath 
the torture of his satire, than the 
crushing contempt of his self-com- 
mand. Cool, ready, armed and de- 
fended on all points, sound in know- 
ledge, unfailing in observation, equally 
consummate in sophistry when needed 
by himself, and instantaneous in de- 
tecting sophistry in another ; scorning 
no art, however painful, — ^begrudging 
no labour, however weighty, — ^minute 
in detail, yet not the less compre- 
hending the whole subject in a grasp; 
such was the legal and public charac- 
ter William Brandon had established. 
No. 27 



f and such was the fame he joined to 
the unsuUied purity of his moral 
reputation. But to his friends he 
seemed only the agreeable, clever, 
lively, and, if we may use the phrase 
innoeenUy, the worldly mtoi, — never 
affecting a superior sanctity, or an 
over-anxiety to forms, except upon 
great occasions; and rendering hia 
austerity of manners the more ad- 
mired, because he made it seem so 
unaccompanied by hypocrisy. 

" Well," said Brandon, as he sat 
after dinner alone with his relations, 
and had seen the eyes of his brother 
close in diurnal slumber, — " tell me. 
Miss Lucy, what you think of Lord 
Manleverer ; do you find him agree- 
able 1" 
" Very ; too much so, indeed ! " 
*' Too much so ! that is an uncom« 
mon fault, Lucy; unless you mean 
to insinuate that you find him too 
agreeable for your peace of mind." 

" Oh, no ! there is little fear of that. 
All that I meant to express was, that 
he seems to make it the sole business 
of his life to be agreeable ; and that 
one imagines he had gained that end 
by the loss of certain qualities which 
one would have liked better." 
" Umph f and what are they 1 " 
'< Truth, sincerity, independence, 
and honesty of mind." 

" My dear Lucy, it has been the 
professional study of my life to dis- 
cover a man's character, especially so 
far as truth is concerned, in as short 
a time as possible ; but you excel me 
by intuition, if you can tell whether 
there be sincerity in a courtier's cha- 
racter at the first interview you have 
with him." 

" Nevertheless, I am sure of my 
opinion," said Lucy, laugrhing ; " and 
I will tell you one instance I observed 
among a hundred. Lord Mauleverer 
is rather deaf, and he imagined, in 
conversation, that my father said one 
thing— it was upon a very trifling 
subject — ^the speech of some member 
B 7 ' 



FAUL CLnrFOBD. 



of parliament (the lawyer ■iBiled)» 
when in reality he meant to aiy an- 
other. Lord Maaleverer, in the warmest 
manner in the world, chimed in with 
hun, appeared thoroughly of hia opi- 
nion, api^anded hiB sentimenti^ and 
wiahed the whole eonntry of his mind. 
Suddenly my fikUier apohe. Lord Ifaur 
kverer bent down hie ear, and found 
that the sentiments he had so landed 
were exactly those my fiithurthe least 
&voured. No sooner did he make 
this discorery, than he wheeled round 
again, dextmusly and grao^hlly, I 
allow; condemned all that he had 
before extolled, and extolled aU that 
he had b^ore abused 1" 

" Andis tbatall, ImeyV said Baa- 
don, with a keener sneer on his lip 
than the oeoasifm waifsated. ''Why, 
that is what every one does ; only some 
more giayely than others. HanleTerar 
insoeiety; I,atthebar; the minister 
in parliament; friend to ftiend; loYsr 
to mistress ; mistress to Iotat ; half of 
us are employed in saying white is 
bhtck, and the other half in swesjring 
that bhtck is white. There ia only one 
difference, my pretty nieee^ betireen 
the clever man and the Ibol ; the Ibol 
says what is fidse while the oolonrs 
stare in his &ee and give him the lie ; 
but the clever man taies, a&it were, a 
brush, and literally turns the htsiok 
into white, and the white into blaek, 
before he makes the aaaertion, whidi 
JB then true. The fool ehai^res, and is 
a liar; the clever man sukes the 
colours change, and is a genius. But 
this is not for your young yem yet^ 
Lucy." 

" But^ I can't see the neeessi^ of 
seeming to agree with peo]^," said 
Lucy, simi^y ; " surely they would be 
just as well pleased if you diiftred 
fhnn them civilly and witii respect)" 

"No, Lucy," said Brand<m, still 
sneering ; '* to be liked, it is not ne- 
cessary to be any thing but com- 
pliant ; lie, oheat, make every word a 
snare, and every act a forgexy — ^but 



never eontradiet. Agree with people^ 
and they make a cooeh for you in 
thMr hearts. You know the story of 
Dante and the buffoon. Both werci 
entertained at the court of the vain 
pedanl^ who caUed himaalf Prince 
Sealiger ; the former poorly, the latter 
sumptuously. ' How etmiea it,' said 
the buffoon to the poet, ' that I am sen 
rich and you so poorl' ' I shall ha 
as rich as you,' was the atmging and 
true reply, 'whenever I osn &id % 
patron as like myself as Fiinoft 
Sealiger is like yon r» 

" Tet iny bird^," said Luit^ eareok 
ing the goldfinoh, whieh nestled ta 
her bosom, "are not like me^ and I 
love them. ISa^, I often think I 
could love those better who diffnr 
from me the most. I feel it so ift 
books ;— when, for instance, I read ai 
novel or a play ; and you, imeH I llk» 
almost in proportion to my perceiving 
in myself ncihi«g in oomuMai with 
you." 

" Yes," said Brandon, ''yon have ia 
common with me a love few old stoneB 
of Sir Hugo» and Sir Bnpert, and aU 
the other 'Sirs 'of our moaldeiod and 
by-gone raecw So you shall sing mo 
the ballad about Sir John do Brandon^ 
and the dragon he slew in the Holy 
Land. We will adjourn to the draw^ 
ing-room, not to disturb your fiither.*! 

Lucy agreod, to<^ her uncle's arm, 
rqMdred to the drawing-room, and,, 
seating hers^ at the harpsichord^ 
eang to an inspiriting, yet somewhat 
rude air, the family ballad her undo 
had demand^ 

It would have been amusing to noto 
in the rigid &eeof the hard^ed and 
habitual man of peace and parch-* 
ments, a certain enthusiasm which 
ever uid anon crossed his oheek, aa 
the venes of the ballad rested on 
some allusion to the knightly Houso 
of Brandon, and its old renown. It 
was an early prigudice, breaking oui 
despite of himself— a flash of charac- 
ter, stricken from the hard fossil iuf 



PAUL cujvomk 



whieh it was imbedded. One woM. 
bwresapposed thai tht silUeet of ell 
pridea (for the {Mride of money, though 
meaner, ie leBsseneelees), fionily pride, 
was the last veakneaa whioh at that 
time the calloae and astote lawyer 
would hare oonfteeed, em to himself. 

** Lucy,* said Brandon, as the song 
ceased, and he gazed on his beantifnl 
meoe with a eertain pride in his 
aspect, — " I long to witness your first 
appearance in the world. This lodg- 
ing, my dear, is not fit but par- 
don me ! what I was about to say is 
this; your father and yourself are 
here at my invitation, and in my 
bouse you must dwell: you are my 
guests, not mine host and hostess. I 
hare, therefore, already directed my 
servant to secure me a house, and 
provide the necessary establishment ; 
and I make no doubt, as he is a quick 
fellow, that within three days all will 
be ready. You must then be the 
magnet of my abode, Lucy; and^ 
meanwhiIs,yonmwt explain this to my 
brother, and, for yon know his Jealous 
hoqntaUty, obtun his aeqniescenee.*' 

« But ** began Lncy. 

'' But me no buts," said Brandon, 
quickly, but witii an affeetionaEte tone 
of wil^lness ; ** and now^as I feel veiy 
much &tig«ed with my jonmeyy yon 
must allow me to seek my own room." 

" I will conduct you to it myself,* 
said Lucy, for she was anxious to 
fdiow her &ther^ brother the care and 
forethought which she had lavished 
on her ftrrsngemenfcs for his eomifort. 
Biandon followed her into an apart- 
ment, which his eye knew at a gfamee 
had been solgeeted to that female 
soperintouience which nmkes sneh 
uses finom what men reject as insigni* 
ficant; and he thanked her with 
more than his usual amenity, for the 
grace whidi had presided over, and 
ibe kindness whieh had dictated, her 
preparations. As soon as he was left 
alone, he wheeled his arm-dudr near 
ths clear, bright fire, and resUng his 



ftee upon hia hand, in tiM attitvde of 
a man who prepares himseU; as it 
were, for the indulgence of medhalfen, 
he muttered >— 

*< Teal these women an^ firat^ what 
Nature maket them, and that is good : 
next, wliat we make them, and that 
is evil 1 Now, could I persuade my* 
self that we ought to be nice m to 
the use we put tiMse poor p«ppe(s to, 
I should shrink firona enforcing the 
destiny which I have marked for thia 
girl. But that is a pitiful considera- 
tion, and he is but a silly player who 
loses his money for the sake of pre- 
serving his counters. So the young 
lady must go as another score to the 
fortunes of William Brandon. After 
all, who suffers l—iM et she. ^a will 
have wealth, rank, honour: / shall 
suffer, to yield so pretty and pure a 
gem to the coronet of— &ugh ! How 
I despise that dog ! but how I could 
hate, crush, mangle him, could I be- 
lieve that he demised me 1 Could he- 
do so? ITmph! No, I have reaolved 
myself that is impossible. W^, let- 
ma hope tkcU matiimonial point will 
be aetUed ; and now, let me consider 
what nextstep I i&all take for mysctf 
—myself t— ay — only myaelf f— with 
me perishes the last male of Brandon. 
But the lii^t shall not go out under & 
bushel." 

Aa he said this, the solikMi«ist sank 
into a moie absorbed, and a silent 
revery, firom which he waa disturbed 
by the entrsaoe of his oervank Bran- 
don, who was never a dreamer, lave 
when alone, broke at onee from has 
reiectimiB. 

"Ten have obeyed my ordost 
Barlow;^" said he. 

** Tea» sir," answered ^e dnnestic. 
" I have taken the best house yet un- 
occupied, and when tfrs. Boberts 
(Brandon's housekeeper) arrives from 
London, every thing will, I trust, be 
exactly to your wishes." 

"Good ! And you gave my note 
to Lord Mauleverer]" 
n 2 



100 



PAUL CLIFFOBD. 



"With my dwii hands^ sir; his 
lordship will await you at home all 
to-morrow* 

" Very well I and now. Barlow, see 
that your room is within call (bells, 
though known, were not common at 
that day)^ and give out that I am 
gono to bed, and must not be dis- 
turbed. What 's the hour ? " 

'< Just on the stroke of ten, sir." 

*' Place on that table my letter-case, 
and the inkstand. Look in, to help 



me to undress, at half-past one; I 
shall go to bed at that hoar. And — 
stay— -be sure. Barlow, that my bro- 
ther believes me retired for the night. 
He does not know my habits, and will 
yez himself if he thinks I sit up so 
late in my present state of health." 

Drawing the table with its writing 
appurtenances near to his master, the 
servant left Brandon onse more to his 
thoughts or his occupaUons. 



CHAPTER Xiy. 

« Servant Get away, I say, wid dat nasty beU. 
Punch. Do you call this a bell ? [patting it) . It ia an c 
Servant. I say it is a bell— a nasty bell I 
Punch. I say it is an organ (Hriking him with {().— What do you say It is now ? 
Servant An organ, Mr. Punch ! ** 

The Tragical Comedp of Punch and Judy. 



The next morning, before Lucy 
and her father had left th%ir apart- 
ments, Brandon, who was a remark- 
ably early riser, had disturbed the 
luxurious Mauleverer in his first 
slumber. Although the courtier pos- 
sessed a villa some miles from Bath, 
he preferred a lodging in the town, 
both as being warmer than a rarely 
inhabited country-house, and as being 
to an indolent man more immediately 
convenient for the gaieties and the 
waters of the medicinal city. 

As soon as the earl had rubbed his 
eyes, stretched himself, and prepared 
himself for the untimeous colloquy, 
Brandon poured forth his excuses for 
the hour he had chosen for a visit. 

"Mention it not, my dear Bran- 
don," said the good-natured noble- 
man, with a sigh ; " I am glad at any 
hour to see you, and I am veiy sure 
that what you have to communicate 
is always worth listening to." 

" It was only upon public business, 
though of rather a more important de- 
scription than usual, that I ventured 



to disturb you," answered Brandon, 
seating himself on a chair by the 
bedside. "This morning — an hour 
ago — I received by private express a 
letter from London, stating that a 
new arrangement will positively be 
made in the cabinet—nay, naming 
the very promotions and chEtnges. I 
confess, that as my name occurred, as 
also your own, in these nominations, 
I was anxious to have the benefit of 
your necessarily accurate knowledge 
on the subject, as well as of your 
advice." 

"Really, Brandon," said Mauleverer^, 
with a half-peevish smile, "any other 
hour in the day would have done for 
'the business of the nation,' as the 
newspapers call that troublesome farce 
we go through ; and I had imagined 
you would not have broken my nightly 
slumbers, except for something of real 
importance — the discovery of a new 
beauty, or the invention of a new 
dish." 

"Neither the one nor the other 
could you have expected from me, my 



PAUL CLIFFORD, 



U)l 



dear lord," rejoined Brandon. " You 
know the dry trifles in wluch a lawyer's 
life wastes itself away ; and beauties 
and dishes hare no attraction for us, 
except the former be damsels deserted, 
and the latter patents invaded. But 
my news, after all, is worth hearing, 
unless you have heard it before." 

" Not I ! but I suppose I shall hear 
it in the course of the day: pray 
Heaven I be not sent for to attend 
some plague of a council. Begin t*' 

*' In the first place. Lord Duberly 
resolves to resign, unless this nego- 
tiation for peace be made a cabinet 
question." 

" Pshaw ! let him resign. I have 
opposed the peace so long, that it is 
out of the question. Of course. Lord 
Wanstead will not think of it, ^uid he 
may count on my boroughs. A peace ! 
shajneful, disgraceful^ dastardly pro- 
position!" 

" But, my dear lord, my letter says, 
that this unexpected firmness on the 
part of Lord Duberly has produced so 
great a sensation, that, seeing the 
impossibility of forming a durable 
cabinet without him, the king has 
consented to the negotiation, and 
Duberly stays in t" 

" The devil !— what next 1" 
. '' Safiden and Stemhold go out in 
favour of Baldwin and Charlton, and 
in the hope that you will lend your 
aid to " 

"IV* said Lord Mauleverer, very 
angrily ; " I lend my aid to Baldwin, 
the Jacobin, and Charlton, the son of 
a brewer 1" 

" Very true I " continued Brandon. 
" But in the hope that you might be 
persuaded to regard the new arrange- 
ments with an indulgent eye, you are 

talked of instead of the Duke of 

for the vacant garter and the office of 
chamberlain." 

" You don't mean it 1" cried Maul- 
everer, starting from his bed. 

" A few other (but, I hear, chiefly 
promotions aro to be made. 



Among the rest, my learned brother, 
the democrat &irsden, is to have a 
silk gown ; Cromwell is to be attorney- 
general ; and, between ourselves, they 
have oflTered me a judgeship." 

" But the garter !" said ifaulcverer, 
scarcely hearing the rest of the law- 
yer's news, — ^"the whole object, ahn, 
and ambition of my life. How truly 
kind in the king! After all," con- 
tinued the earl, laughing, and throw- 
ing himself back, " opinions are 
variable — truth is not uniform — the 
times chjinge, not we — and we must 
have peace instead of war ! " 

'^Your maxims are indisputable, 
and the conclusion you come to is 
excellent," said Brandon. 

'' Why, you and I; my dear fellow," 
said the earl, "who know men, and 
who have lived all our lives in 
the world, must laugh behind the 
scenes at the cant we wrap in tinsel, 
and send out to stalk across the stage. 
We know that our Coriolanus of Tory 
integrity is a corporal kept by a pros- 
titute ; and the Brutus of Whig liberty 
is a lacquey turned out of place for 
stealing the spoons ; but we must not 
tell this to the world. So, Brandon, 
you must write me a speech for the 
next session, and be sure it has plenty 
of general maxims, and concludes 
with ' my bleeding country ! ' " 

The lawyer smiled. " You consent 
then to the expulsion of Stemhold 
and Rafiden 1 for, after all, that is the 
question. Our British vessel, as the 
d— d metaphor-mongers call the state, 
carries the public good safe in the 
hold like brandy ; and it is only when 
fear, storm, or the devil makes the 
rogues quarrel among themselves, and 
break up the casks, that one gets 
above a thimblefull at a time. We 
should go on fighting with the rest of 
the worid for ever, if the ministers 
had not taken to fight among them- 
selves." 

" As for Stemhold," said the earl, 
" 'tis a vulgar dog, And voted for 



lOS 



PAUL ClilFFOED. 



eeoBomical refoim. Beudes^ I don't 
know him ; he may go to ths deril 
for avght I oaro : b«t Baffden must 
be deak handaomel j withy or, despite 
the garter, I will &U back amoaig the 
Whigi» who, after all, giv« tolerable 



''Bat why, my lord, miut SaflStot 
be treated better than his brother 
reeoantt" 

"Became he aent me, in the hand- 
Bomeat manner poflsible, a pipe of that 
wonderfiil Madeira) which yon know I 
conrider the chief graoe of my cellars, 
and he gare np a cimal navigation bill, 
which would hare emiohed his whole 
coanty, when he knew that it wonld 
injure my property. No, Brandon, 
coraepabliocant; we know what that 
ia. Bat we an gentlemen, and onr 
priTate friends most not be thrown 
oferboard,*— onleei, at least, we do it 
in the ciTilest manner we can." 

** Fear not," nid the lawyer; ''yon 
h«fa on^ to aaj the word, and the 
cabinet ota eook np sen emhaaqr to 
Owk]iiee,and aend BaSden ihere with 
a stipend of five thooaand vymt" 

"Ah! that^ weU thought of; or 
we might give him a grant of a hnn- 
died ^ouaad acres in one of the 
oohNdei^ er laihim boy cnnni4aitdat 
a diseennt of eighty per eent. Qo 
that's aetaed." 

"And now, my dear Mend," said 
Bmadon, " I wiU tell you finanlOy why 
leomeaaear^; I am required to give 
a baaty answerio tiie proposal / have 
rseeived, aame^, of the jndgeahip. 
Yonr opinion f 

"Ajadgeahip! youajodgel WhatI 
fittsake yonr brilliant career for so 
petty a digadty V-yon jest ! " 

"Not ai aU,--Jkt6n. Ton know 
how bltteily I h«re opposed this peaee^ 
and whai hot enemies I have made 
among thenewfrieads of the adminis- 
timtimi : on the one hand, these ene- 
mies insist on sacrificing me; and on 
the other, if I were to stay in the 
Lower Honse and speak lor what I 



have before opposed, I should forfeit 
the soi^rt of a grwt portion of my 
own party : hated by one body, and 
mistrusted by the other, a seat in the 
House of Commons ceasea to be an 
object. It is pn^KNwd that I should 
retire on the dignity of a judge, with 
the positive imd pledged, though 
secret, promise of the first vacancy 
among the chiefs. The place of chief 
justice or chief baron is indeed the 
only har remuneration for my sur- 
render of the gains of my profession, 
and the abandonment of my parlia- 
mentaiy and legal career; the title, 
which wUl of course be attached to ii^ 
might go (at least, by an exertion of 
interest^) to the Mest son of i^ 
niece, in case she married a com- 
moner :'-<fr" added he, after a paose^ 
"her second son in ease she married 
a peer." 

" Ha— trae 1 " said Mauleverer quick- 
ly, and as if struck by some sudden 
thought; "and your charming nieoe^ 
Brandon, would be worthy of any 
honour either to her diildren or her- 
selt Ton do not know how stnud^ I 
was with her; there is something so 
graceful in hm* simplicity ; and in her 
manner of smoothing down the little 
rugosities of Warlock Honse, there 
was so gemnne and so ea^ a dignity, 
tint I declare I almost thought my- 
adf yoimg again, and capable of the 
self-cheat of believing myself in lovn. 
Bat, ohl Brandon, imagine me at 
yonr brother's board !~-me, for whom 
artoiauB are too substantial, and who 
feel, when I tread, the slightest ine* 
qmdity in the carpets of Touznay ! — 
imi^gine me, dear Brandon, in a black 
wainacot room, hung round with yonr 
ancestors in brown wigs with posies 
in their buttonJhole%— «n immense 
fire on one side, and a thorooi^ 
draught on the other, — a huge drde 
of beef before me, smoking like Y esu- 
vius, and twice as Urge, — a platefol 
(the plate was pewter— is there not a 
metal so called?) of this mingled 



PAUL CLIFFOBD. 



lOS 



flime and lava sent under my veiy 
Aomril, and upon pain of ill-bi«eduig 
to be despalehed down my proper 
]BOiith,-^an old gentleman in ftistia]^ 
breeehes and vcMsted stockinge, by 
ivay of a bntler^ filling me a can of 
ale,--and your worthy brother asking 
me if I would not pn^port, — a lean 
footaaan in li^ny (8noh a lively, ye 
gods !) scarlet, blue, yellow, and green, 
a rainbow HI made ! on the oppodte 
aide of the table looking at the ' Lord ' 
with «yeB and month equally open, 
and large enough to swidlow* me, — 
and your excellent brother himself at 
the head of the table glowing through 
the mists of the beef, like tbo rising 
•nn in a sign-poet ;—>and then, Bian* 
don, tuming from this image, behold 
beside me the &ir, delioate, aristo- 
cimtic, yet simple lovelinen of your 
niece, and— but you look angiy-^I 
ha^e offended yon.* ■ 

It was high time for Mauleyerer to 
ask that question; for, during the 
whole of the earl's recital, the dark 
&ee of his companion had literally 
burnt with nwe : and here we may 
observe how genemlly selfishness, 
which make» the man of the world, 
jpreeento its possessor, by a sort of 
paradox, from being eonaummaidpmk 
for Mjkuleverer, occupied by the 
pleasure he felt at his own wit^ and 
never having that magic sympathy 
with others, which creates l^e incesp 
sanUy keen observer, had not, for a 
moment, thought that he was offend- 
ing to the quick the hidden pride of 
the lawyer. • ISTay, so little did he 
suspect Brandon's real weaknesses, 
that he thought him a philosopher, 
who would have laughed alike at 
principles and people, however near 
to him might be the latter, and how- 
ever important the former. Mastering 
by a single effort, which restored his 
cheek to its usual steady hue, the 
outward signs of his displeasure, 
Brandon rejoined. 

"Offend me I by no means, my 



dear lord. I do not wonder at your 
painful situation in an old countiy 
gentleman's house^ which has not for 
centuries ofibred scenes fit for the 
presence of so distinguished a guest 
Kever, I may say, since the time 
when Sir Charles de Brandon enter- 
tained Elizabeth at Warlock; and 
your ancestor ^ou know my old musty 
studies on those points of obscure 
antiquity), John Hauleverer, who was 
a noted goldsmith of London, supplied 
the plate for the occasion/' 

** Fairiy retorted," said Mauleverer, 
smiling; for thou|^ the earl had a 
great contempt for low birth, set on 
high plaoes, in other men, he was 
utterly void of pride in his own family. 
** Fairly retorted I but I never meant 
anything else but a laugh at your 
brother's housekeeping; a joke, surely, 
pennitted to a man whose own fiw- 
tidiousness on these matters is so 
standing a jest But, by heavens, 
Biandon ! to turn from these subjects, 
your niece is the prettiest girl I have 
seen for twenty years; and if she 
would foiget my being the descendant 
of John Mauleverer, the noted gold- 
smith of London, she maybe Lady 
Mauleverer as soon as she pleases." 

" Nay, now, let us be serious, and 
talk of the judgesMp,** said Brandon, 
affecting to treat the proposal as a joke. 

"By the soul of Sir Charles de 
Brandon, I am serious!" cried the 
eari; "and as a proof of it, I hope 
you will let me pay my respects to 
your niece to-day — not with my offer 
in my hand, yet— for it must be a 
love match on both sides." And the 
Earl, glancing towards an opposite 
glass, which reflected his attenuated 
but comely features, beneath his velvet 
night-cap, trimmed with Mechlin, 
laughed half-triumphantly as he spoke. 

A sneer just passed the lips of 
Brandon, and as instantly vanished ; 
while Mauleverer continued : — 

"And as for the judgeship, dear 
Brandon, I advise you to accept it 



104 



PAUL CLIFFORD, 



though you know host; and I do think 
no man will stand a £ftirer chance of 
the chief-justiceship : or, though it be 
somewhat unusual for ' common' law- 
yers, why not the woolsack iteelf 1 As 
you say, the second son of your niece 
might inherit the dignity of the 
peerage!" 

" WeU, I will consider of it fiiYOurar 
biy/' said Brandon, and soon after- 
wards he left the nobleman to renew 
his broken repose. 

" I can't laugh at that man," said 
Mauleverer to himself, as he turned 
round in his bed, "though he has 
much that I should laugh at in 
another ; and &ith, there is one litUe 
matter I might well scorn him for, if 
I were not a philosopher. 'Tis a pretty 
girl, his niece, and with proper instruc- 
tions might do one credit; besides 
she has 60,00OZ. ready money; and, 
^th, I have not a shilling for my own 
pleasure, though I have, or, alaa ! had, 
fifty thousand a-year for that of my 
establishment ! In all probability, she 
will be the lawyer's heiress, and he 
must have made, at least, as much 
again as her portion ; nor is /te, poor 
devil, a very good life. Moreover, if 
he rise to the peerage 1 and the second 
Bon — W^ll! well! it will not be such a 
bad match for the goldsmith's descend- 
ant either I " 

With that thought. Lord Mauleverer 
fell asleep. He rose about noon, 
dressed himself with unusual pains. 



and was just going forth on a viait to 
Miss Brandon, when he suddenly 
remembered that her uncle had not 
mentioned her address or his own* 
He referred to the lawyer's note of the 
preceding eyening ; no direction was 
inscribed on it ; and Mauleverer was 
forced, with much chagrin, to forego 
for that day the pleasure he had pro* 
mised himsell 

In truth, the wary lawyer, who, as 
we have said, despised show and out* 
ward appearances as much as any man» 
was yet sensible of their effect even Ia 
the eyes of a lover; and moreover. 
Lord Mauleverer was one whose habits 
of life were calculated to arouse a cer* 
tain degree of vigilance on points of 
household pomp, even in the most 
unobservant. Brandon therefore re* 
solved that Lucy should not be visited 
by her admirer, till the removal to 
their new abode was effected ; nor wa9 
it tUl the third day from that on which 
Mauleverer had held with Brandoa 
the interview we have recorded, that 
the earl received a note from Brandon, 
seemingly turning only on political 
matters, but inscribed ilith the address 
and direction in full form. 

Mauleverer answered it in person* 
He found Lucy at home, and morc- 
beautiful than ever; and from that 
day his mind was made up, as the 
mammas say, and his visits became 
constant. 



PAUL CLIFFOED, 



I0(^ 



CHAPTER XT. 



'< There is a festival where Imights and damee. 
And aught that wealth or lofty lineage claims. 
Appear. « « « 

* « * * « 

***** 
*Tla he— how came he thence ?— what dofh he here ? "-^Lara* 



^ Thbbb are two ehanning ntvationB 
in life for a woman: one, the first 
freshness of heiress-ship and beauty ; 
the other, youthful widowhood with a 
large jointure. It was at least Lucy's 
fortune to enjoy the first. No sooner 
was she fairly launched into the gay 
world, than she became the object of 
universal idolatry. Crowds followed 
her whererer she mored : nothing 
was talked of, or dreamed of, toasted, 
or betted on, but Lucy Brandon; 
even her simplicity, and utter igno- 
rance of the arts of fine life, enhanced 
the ^at of her reputation. Somehow* 
or other, young people of the gentler 
sex are rarely ill-bred, even in their 
eccentricities; and there is often a 
great deal of grace in inexperience. 
Her uncle, who accompanied her 
everywhere, himself no slight magnet 
of attraction, viewed her success with 
a complacent triumph which he suf- 
fered no one but her &ther or herself 
to detect. To the smooth coolness 
of his manner, nothing would have 
seemed more foreign thtui pride at the 
notice gained by a beauty, or exultar 
tion at any fiivour won from the 
caprices of fashion. As for the good 
old squire, one would have imagined 
him &r more the invalid than his 
brother. He was scarcely ever seen ; 
for though he went everywhere, he 
was one of those persons who sink 
iiito a comer the moment they enter 
a room. Whoever discovered him in 
his retreat, held out their hands, and 
exclaimed, ** Qod bless me \^~you 



here ! we have not seen you for this 
age l** Now and then, if in a very 
dark niche of the room a card-table 
had been placed, the worthy gentle- 
man toiled through an obscure rub- 
ber, but more frequently he sat with 
his hands clasped, and his mouth 
open, counting the number of candles 
in the room, or calculating "when 
that stupid music would be over." 

Lord Mauleverer, though a polished 
and courteous man, whose great object 
was necessarily to ingratiate himself 
with the father of his intended bride, 
had a horror of being bored, which 
surpassed all other feelings in his 
mind. He could not, therefore, per- 
suade himself to submit to the melan- 
choly duty of listening to the squire'u 
"linked epeeekea long drawn out." 
He always glided by the honest man's 
station, seemingly in an exceeding 
hurry, with a " Ah, my dear sir, how 
do yon do 1 How delighted I am to 
see you ! — And your incomparable 
daughter T— Oh, there she is! — ^par- 
don me, dear sir— you see my attrac- 
tion!*' 

Lucy, indeed, who never forgot any 
one (except herself occasionally), 
sought her father's retreat as ofben as 
she was able ; but her engagements 
were so incessant, that she no sooner 
lost one partner, than she was claimed 
and carried off by another. However, 
the squire bore his solitude with 
tolerable cheerfulness, and always 
declared that "he was very well 
amiiscd ; although balls and concerts 



loa 



PAUL CMPPOMX 



were necessarily a little doll to one 
who came from a fine old place like 
Warlock Manor-hoose, and it was not 
the same thing that pleased yonng 
ladies (for, to them, that fiddling and 
giggling till two o'clock in the morn- 
ing might be a very pnUy wan ^ 
JdXLmg time), and ihdr papasr 

What considerablj added to Lucy's 
celebrity, was the marked nonce and 
admiration of a man so high in rank 
and ton as Lord Manleyerer. That 
peesonage, who still retained mnoh of 
a yonthfiil mind and temper, and who 
was in his nature more careless than 
haughty, preserved little or no state 
in ids intercourse witii the sodal 
rsrellen at Bath. He cared not whi- 
ther he went^ so that he was in the 
tnin of the yoong beaaty ; and the 
most fiwtidwas nobleman of the Sng- 
lish court was seen in eveiy second 
and third rate set of a great watering- 
place^ the attendant^ the flirty and 
often the ridicnle t>f the daughter of 
an obecuze and almost insignificant 
oountiy squire. Despite the honour 
of so distinguished a lorer^ and de- 
spite all the noTeltiesof her situation 
^ pret^ head of Luigr Brandon, 
was as yet, howerer, perfectiy un- 
turned ; and as Ibr her heart, the only 
impression that it had ever reotive^ 
was made by that wandeting guest of 
the Tillage rector, whom she had 
nerer i^gain seen, but who yet dung 
to her imagination, invested not only 
with ail the graces which in right of a 
aingnlariy handsome person he poe- 
eessed, — ^but with those to which he 
never could advance a claim,— more 
dai^roua to her peace, from the veiy 
circumstance of their oriigin in h^ 
fimcy, not his merits. 

They had now been some littie 
time at Bath, and Brandon's brief 
req>ite was pretty nearly expired, 
when a public ball of uncommon and 
manifold attraction was announced. It 
was to be graced not only by the pre- 
) of all the surrounding fiunilies, 



but also by that of royalty itself; it 
being an acknowledged fact, that 
people dance much better, and eat 
much more supper, when any relation 
to a king is present. 

" I must stay for this ball, Lucy," 
said Brandon, who, after spending Uie 
day with Lord Mauleverer, returned 
home in a mood more than usually 
cheerful : " I must stay for this one 
ball, Lu<7, and witness your complete 
triumph^ even though it will be ne- 
cessary to leave you the vexy next 
momiag.'* 

** 80 soon ! " eried Lucy. 

'' So soon 1 " echoed the uncle with 
a smile. ''Howgood you are to speak 
thus to an old valetudinarian, whose 
company must have &tigued you to 
death ! nay, no pretty denials ! But 
the great ol^eot of my visit to this 
pUiee is aoeomplished : I have seen 
you, I have witnessed your d&nU in 
the great world, with, I may say, more 
than a Other's exultation, and I go 
back to my dxy pursuits with the 
satisfiHstion of thinking our old and 
withered genealogical tree has put 
forth one blossom worthy of its 
freshest day." 

"Undel" said Lucy, reprovingly, 
and holding up her taper finger witii 
an arch smile^ mingliiiig with a bluah, 
in which the woman's vanity spoke, 
unknown to herself. 

''And why that kK^Luctyt** said 
Brandon. 

" Becanae-^because^well, no mat- 
ter! you have been bred to that trade 
in which, as you say yourself men tell 
untruths for othen^, till they lose all 
truth tat themselves. But, let us talk 
of you, not me ; are you really weUL 
enough to leave usi* 

Simple and even ood as the words 
of Lucy's question, when written, ap- 
pear; in her mouth th^ took so 
tender, so anxious a tone, tl^t Bran- 
don, who had no friend, nor wife, nor 
child, nor any one in his household^ 
in whom interest in his health or 



PAUL OUFFOBD. 



107 



ii«]&re irw ft tkiDg of eouraOy and who 
mMicoiiaeqiieiitly wholly unftociistomed 
to the ftceent of kindnoM, felt hinudf 
of ftBudden touehod ftnd strickon. 

<< Why, iiidoed» Luqy/' said ho, in a 
lesB artifieial voieo than thai in whioh 
ho asaaUy apokflb « I should like stiU 
to profit by yoor oara^ and fugeimj 
in&mkitioB and pains in yonr aodety ; 
hati cannot: the tide of «ranti^ like 
that of nature, waits not our plea- 

00X01** 

" Bat we miQr take our own time for 
flatting saU ! ** said Lupy. 

"Ay, this oomes of talking in meta» 
phor,** rejoined Brandon, smiling; 
''they who b^gin it^ always get tike 
wont of it In plain worda^ desr 
Jmcj, I can give no more time to my 
own ailments. A lawyer cannot play 
truant in term time without * 

"Losing a few guineas !" said Lucy, 
interrupting him. 

" WorM than that— his pBaetieeaad 
his namel " 

"Better those than health and paaee 
of mind.** 

** Out onyou — ^no 1 " said Knndon, 
quickly, and almost fiercely ^-" we 
waste an the greenness and pith c^our 
life in striTing to gain a distinguished 
sla^eiy; and when it is gained, we 
must not think that an humble inde- 
pendence would have bean better 1 If 
wo oyer admit that thought, what 
Ibob— what lavish fiMls we h«ve been ! 
— lS[o I ** GOBtinned Brandon, after a 
mimientaiy panse^ and in a tone 
milder and gayer, though not leai dia* 
mcteristio of the maa^ stubboniness 
of will — "after losing all youth's en- 
joyments and Bumhoed's leisure, in 
order that in agB« the mind, the all- 
oonquering mind,should break its wi^ 
at iMt into the applauding opinions of 
men, I should be an effeminate idler 
indeed, did I 6uffer,^Bo long as its 
jarring parts hold together, or so long 
as I have the power to command its 
memben^ — ^this weak bo4y to frus- 
trate the labour of its better and 



nobler portion, and oommaad that 
which it is ordained to serre.** 

LvLcy knew not while she listened, 
half in fear, half in admiration, to her 
singular lolation, that at the very mo- 
ment he thus spoke, lus disease was 
preying upon him in one of its most 
relentless moods, without the power of 
wringing from him a single outward 
token of his torture. But she wanted 
nothing to increase her pity and afieo- 
tion for a man who, in consequence, 
peihaps^ of his ordinary surfiHje of 
worldly and oold properties of tempo- 
lament, never fiuled to leave an inde- 
liUe impression on all who had ever 
seen that temponsment broken through 
by deeper, though often by more evil 
feelings. 

"Shall you go to Lady ^'s 

rotttV aakied Brandon, easily sliding 
back into common topics, "Loid 
Manlsverer requeated me to ask you.** 

"That depends on you and my 
fether!" 

"If on me, I animrer yes!" said 
Brandon. "I like hearing Mauleverer, 
espeoiaUy among persons who. do not 
understand him: thwe is a refined 
and subtle saroasm running through 
the commonplaces of lus conversation, 
whioh cuts the good fools, like the 
invisible sword in the fable,* that 
lopped off heads, without occasioning 
the owners any othor sensation than a 
pleasiBgandsd^omplaoent titillation. 
How immeasurably superior he is in 
manner and addiuss to all we meet 
here ; does it not stcike you P 

<f Yes-.no— I can't say that it does 
exactly,*' rejoined Lu<^. 

"IsthatoonliuDon tendert" thought 
Brandon. 

"In a word," continned Lucy, 
"Lord Mauleverer is one whom I 
think pleasing, without feseination ; 
and amusing, without brilliancy. He 
is evidenUy accomplished in mind, 
and graceful in manner ; and withal, 
the moat uninteresting person I evor 
met." 



109 



PAUL CUFFOBD. 



** AVoxnen have not often thought 
80 ! " said Biandon. 

" I cannot believe that they can 
think otherwifie." 

A certain expresaion, partaking of 
scorn, played over Brandon's hard 
features. It was a noticeable trait in 
him, that while he was most anxious 
to impress Lucy with a &yonrable 
opinion of Lord Manleverer, he was 
never quite able to mask a certain 
satisfaction at any jest at the Earl's 
expense, or any opinion derogatoxy to 
his genenU character for pleasing the 
opposite sex; and this satisfiiction 
was no sooner conceived, than it was 
immediately combated by the vexa- 
tion he felt, that Lucy did not seem 
to share his own desire that she should 
become the wife of the courtier. There 
appeared as if, in that respect, there 
was a contest in his mind between 
interest on one hand, and private 
dislike^ or contempt^ on the other. 

" You judge women wrongly ! " said 
Brandon. " Ladies never Jbiow each 
other; of all persons, Mauleverer is 
best calculated to win them, and expe- 
rience has proved my assertion, l^e 
proudest lot I know for a woman 
would be the thorough conquest of 
Lord Mauleverer ; but it is impossible. 
He may be gallant, but he will never 
be subdued. He defies the whole 
female world, and with justice and 
impunity. Enough of him. Sing to 
jne, dear Lucy," 

The time for the ball approached, 
and Lucy, who was • charming girl, 
and had nothing of the angel about 
her, was sufficientiy fond of gaiety, 
dancing, music, and admiration, to 
feel her heart beat high at the expec- 
tation of the event. 

At last, thedayitself came. Brandon 
dined alone with Mauleverer, having 
made the arrangement that he, with 
the earl, was to join his brother and 
niece at the ball. Mauleverer, who 
hated state, except on great occasions, 
when no man displayed it with a 



better grace, never suffered Ms ser^ 
vants to wait at dinner when he was , 
alone, or with one of his peculiar 
Mends. The attendants remained 
without, and were summoned at will 
by a bell laid beside the host 

The conversation was unrestrained. 

" I am perfectly certain, Brandon," 
said Mauleverer, '' that if yon were to 
live tolerably well, you would soon 
get the better of your nervous com- 
phiints. It is all poverty of blood, 
believe me. — Some more of the fins, 
eh 1 — No !— oh, hang your abstemious- 
ness, it is d— -d unfiiendly to eat sc 
little! Talking of fins and friends — 
heaven defend me from ever again 
forming an intimacy with a pedantic 
epicure, especially if he puns ! ** 

" Why— what has a pedant to do 
with fins 1" 

" I will tell you— (Ah, this Madeira !) 
— I suggested to Lord Dareville, who 
affects the gourmand, what a capital 
thing a dish all fins — (turbot's fins)—* 
might be made. ' Capital !' sud he, 
in a rapture, ' dine on it with me to- 
morrow.* ' Volontiers!* said I. The 
next day, after indulging in a pleasing 
revery all the morning as to the 
manner in which Dareville's cook, 
who is not without genius, would ac- 
complish the g^nd idea, I betook 
myself punctually to my engagement. 
Would you believe iti When the 
cover was removed, the sacrilegious 
dog of an Amphitiyon had put into 
the dish Cicero de Finibua, * There 
is a work all fins !' said he.** 

" Atrocious jest !" ezcliumed Bran- 
don, solemnly. 

" Was it not 1 Whenever the gas- 
tronomists set up a religious inqui- 
sition, I trust they will roast every 
impious rascal who treats the divine 
mystery with levity. Pun upon cook- 
ing, indeed I A propos of Dareville, 
he is to come into the administra- 
tion." 

" You astonish me ! " said Brandon ; 
"I never heard that; I don't know 



VAUh CLIFFORD. 



100 



)iim. He has very little power; has 
he any tjilent 1" 

** Yes, a very great one, — acquired 
though ! " 

"What is it r 

** A pretty wife!" 

«My lord!" exclaimed Brandon, 
abruptly, and half rising from his 
seat. 

Mauleverer looked up hastily, and, 
on seeing the expression of his com« 
panion's face, coloured deeply ; there 
was a silence for some moments. 

''Tell me," sidd Brandon, indif- 
ferently, helping himself to vegetables, 
for he seldom touched meat; and a 
more amusing contrast can scarcely 
be conceived, than that between the 
earnest epicurism of Mauleverer, and 
the careless contempt of the sublime 
art manifested by his gueat : — " tell 
me, you who necessarily know every 
thing, whether the government really 
is settled, — whether you are to have 
the garter, and I — (mark the- dif- 
ference I) — the judgeship." 

" Why so, I imagine, it will be 
arranged ; viz. if you will consent to 
hang up the rogues, instead of living 
by the fools I" 

« One may unite both ! " returned 
Brandon. '^ But I believe, in general, 
it is vice versd, for we live by the 
rogues, and it is only the fools we are 
able to hang up. You ask me if I 
Will take the judgeship. I would not 
T-no, I would rather cut my hand 
off — (and the lawyer spoke with great 
bitterness) — ^forsake my present career, 
despite all the obstacles that now 
encumber it, did I think that this 
miserable body would suffer me for 
two years longer to pursue it." 

" You shock me 1" said Mauleverer, 
a little affected, but nevertheless ap- 
plying the cayenne to his cucumber 
with his unusual unerring nicety of 
tact; "you shock me, but you are 
considerably better than you were." 

"It is not," continued Brandon, 
who was rather speaking to himself 



than to his friend — ^"it is not that 
I am unable to conquer the pain, and 
to master the recreant nerves; but 
I feel myself growing weaker and 
weaker beneath the continual exer- 
tion of my remaining powers, and I 
shall die before I have gained half my 
objects, if I do not leave the labours 
which are literally tearing me to 
pieces." 

** But," said Lord Mauleverer, who 
was the idlest of men, " the judgeship 
is not an easy sinecure." 

" No ! but there is less demand on 
the mind in that station, than in my 
present one;" and Brandon paused 
before he continued. " Candidly, 
Mauleverer, you do not think they 
will deceive mel you do not think 
they mean to leave me to this poli- 
tical death without writing 'Besur- 
gam' over the hatchmenti" 

" They dare not ! " said Mauleverer, 
quaffing his fourth glass of Madeira. 

" Well ! I have decided on my 
change of life," said the lawyer, with 
a slight sigh. 

" So have I on my change of opin- 
ion," chimed in the earl. " I will tell 
you what opinions seem to me like." 

" What 1 " said Brandon abstractedly. 

"Trees I" answered Mauleverer, 
quaintly. " If they can be made ser- 
viceable by standing, don't part with 
a stick ; but when they are of that 
growth that sells well, or whenever 
they shut out &fine prospect, cut them 
down, and pack them off by all man- 
ner of means! — And now for the 
second course." 

" I wonder," said the earl, when oui 
political worthies were again alone 
"whether there ever existed a minister 
who cared three straws for the people 
— many care for iheir party, but as for 
the country " 

" It is all fiddlestick!" added the 
lawyer, with more significance than 
grace. 

" Right ; it is all fiddlestick, as you 
tersely express it. King, Constitutiou 



no 



PAUL cut EOBD. 



aend Church, for efrer! which, hwog, 
interpreted, meuu— first. King, or 
Crown influence, j«dgeship8» and 
garters;— 8ec(mdly, Constitatioii, or 
fees to the lawyer, i^aoM to the 
statesman, kws for the rich, and 
Game Laws for the poor;— thirdly. 
Church, or liyings lor our younger 
sons, and starvings for their curatea J " 

"Ha, ha!" said Brandon, laugh- 
ing sardonically; we know human 
nature!" 

"And how it may be gulled!'' 
quoth the courtier. " Here's a heaHh 
to your niece! and may it not be long 
before you hsdi her as your ftiend** 
bride!" 

"Bride, ei etjOera," said Bnadon, 
inth a aneer, meant only for his own 
satts&etion. "But, mark me, my 
dear lord, do not be too sure of her — 
she is a singular girl, and of more in- 
dependence than the generality of 
women. She will not think of your 
rank and station in estimating you ; 
she will think only of their owner ; and 
pardon me if I suggest to you, who 
know the sex so well, one plan that 
it may not be unadyisable for you to 
pursue. Don't let her fimcy you 
entirely hers; rouse her jealousy, pique 
her pride— let her think you uncon- 
querable, and, unless she is unlike all 
women, she idll want to ocmquer you." 

The earl smiled. "I must take my 
chance ! " ssdd h^ witha confident tone. 

"The hoary coxcomb!" muttered 
Brandon between his teeth: "now 
will his fc^lyspoUaU." 

" And that reminds me,* continued 
HaulcTerer, "that time wanes, and 
dinno- is not over ; let us not hurry^ 
but let us be silent^ to ' enjoy the 
more. These trufflesin champagne — do 
taste them, they would raise the dead." 

The lawyer smiled, and accepted 
the kindness^ though he left the deli- 
cacy untouched; and Mauleverer, 
whose soul was in his plate, saw not 
the heartless rejection. 

Meanwhile, the youthful beauty 



had already entered the theatre of 
pleasure, and was now seated with the 
squire, at tiie upper end of the half- 
fiUed ball room. 

A gay lady of the fiuhion at that 
time, and of that half and half rank 
to which belonged the anstocraey of 
Bath, — one of those curious peraona 
we meet with in the admirable novels 
of Miss Bumey, as appertaining'to the 
order of fine ladies,— nutfle the tdo 
with our hehttSB and her firi;her, asKl 
pointed out to tiiem by name the 
Taiious ehaimetera that CBtered tiie 
apartmeuti. She was still in the lull 
tide of scandal, when an unusual sen- 
sation was visible in the eDTivons of 
tiie door ; three strangers of markedl 
mien, gay dress, and an air whidh, 
tiiough differing in each, was in all 
alikerematkablefarasoriof"dariiing'* 
assurance, made their entrie. One 
was of uncommon height, and pos- 
sessed of an exceedingly fine head of 
hair ; another was of a more quiet 
and unpretending aspect, but^ nerer^ 
thelesB, he wore upon his fine a super- 
cifious, yet not ill-humoured express 
tlon ; the third was maoy yean younger 
than his companions, strikingly hand* 
some in &oe and figure, altogether of 
a bettertaste in dress» and possessing 
a manner that, though it had equal 
ease, was not equally noticeable for 
impudence and swagger. 

''Who can those bef said Laic's 
female fHend in a wondarlng tone. 
" I never saw them before— they nrast 
be great people— they hav« all ti^ mrm 
of persona of quaUi^f — Dear, hofw 
odd that I should not knew them!** 

While the good kdy,who, like all 
good ladies of that stamp, thought 
people of quality had airs, was thus 
lamenting her ignctance oif the new 
comers, a genend whisper of a siBiilar 
import was already circulatii^ round 
the room;— -"Who are theyl" aad 
the imivOTsal answer was, "Can't tell 
— never saw them before ! " 

Our strangers seemed by no means 



PAUL CUFI^KD. 



Ill 



di^Mwd with the evident and imme- 
diate impression they had made. They 
stood ia the most conspicuoiis part of 
the room, ei\]oying, among themaelTeey 
a low eonvenation, frequently broken 
hy fita of laughter; tokens, we need 
ttot add, of their sapei^eminently 
good breeding. The handsome figure 
of the youngest stranger, and the 
simple and seemingly unoonsodous 
gnoe of his attztudea^ were not, how- 
ever, unworthy of the admiration he 
excited ; and even his laughter, rude 
as it TtiXiy was, dispUyed so dawiling 
a set of teeth, and was aeeompanied 
by such brilliant eyea^ that befoxe he 
had been ten minutee in the room, 
there was scarcely a young lady under 
tlixrty*nine not disposed to &U in love 
with him. 

Apparaitiy heedless of the yarious 
remarks which reached their ears, our 
strangers, after they had from their 
station sufficiently surveyed the bean* 
ties of the ball, strolled arm-in-arm 
through the rooma Having saun- 
tered through theball and eard-rooms, 
they passed the door that led to the 
entranee passage, and gazed, with 
other loiterers, upon the new comers 
aaoending the stairs. Here the two 
younger strangers renewed their 
whispered oonversation, while the 
eldest, who was also the tallest 
one, carelessly leaning against the 
wall, employed himsdf for a few mo- 
ments in thrusting his fingers through 
his hair. In finishing this occupation, 
the peculiar state of his ruffles forced 
itsdf upon the observation of our gen- 
tleman, who, after gazing for some 
moments en an envious rent in the 
right ruffle, muttered some indistinct 
words, like, "the coek of that con- 
founded pistol," and then tucked up 
the mutilated ornament with a pecu- 
liarly nimUe motion of the fingers of 
his left hand : the next moment, di- 
verted by a new care, the stranger 
applied Ms digital members to the ar- 
ranging and caressing of a remarkably 



splendid brooch, set in the bosom of 
a shirt, the rude texture of which 
fonned a singular contrast with the 
magnificence of the embellishment, 
and the fineness of the one ruffle suf- 
fered by our modem Hyperion to make 
its appearance beneath his dnnamon- 
ooloured coat-sleeve. These little per- 
sonal arrangements completed, and a 
dazzling snuff-box released from the. 
ctmfinement of a side-pocket, tapped 
thrice, and lightened of two pinches of 
its titillating luxury, the stranger now, 
with the guardian eye of friendship, 
directed a searchingglance to the dresa 
of his friends. There, all appeared 
meet for his strictest scrutiny, 8ave„ 
indeed, that the supercilious-looking 
stranger having just drawn forth his 
gloves, the lining of his coat-poeket 
— ^which was raUier soiled into the 
bargain — had not returned to its inter- 
nal station ; the tall stranger, seeing 
this little inelegance, kindly thrust 
three fingers with a sudden and light 
dive into his friend's pocket, and effec- 
tually repulsed the forwardness of the 
intrusive lining. The supercilious 
stranger no sooner Mi the touch, than 
he started baek, and whispered his 
officious companion, — 

"What! among friends, Ned! Fie 
now ; curb the nature In thee for one 
night, at least." 

Before he of the flowing locks had- 
time to answer, the master of the cere- 
monies, who had for the last three 
minutes been ^eing the strangers 
through his glass, stepped forward 
with a sliding bow, and the handsome 
gentleman taking upon himself the 
superiority and precedenoe over his 
comrades, was the first to return the 
courtesy. He did this with so good a 
grace, and so pleasing an expression 
of countenance, that the censor of 
bows was charmed at (mce, and, with 
a second and more profound salutation 
announced himself and his office. 

" You would like to dance, proba- 
bly, gentlemen 1" he asked, glancing 



112 



PAUL CUFFOBD. 



at each, but directing his words to the 
one who had prepossessed him. 

"You are very good," said the 
comely stranger ; "and, for my part, 
I shall be extremely indebted to you for 
the exercise of your powers in my be- 
half Allow me to return with you to the 
ball-room, and I can there point out 
to you the objects of my especial admi- 
ration." 

The master of the ceremonies bowed 
as before, and he and his new ac- 
quaintance strolled into the ball-room, 
followed by the two comrades of the 
latter. 

" Have yon been long in Bath, sir] " 
inquired the monarch of the rooms, 

" No, indeed ! we only arrived this 
evening." 

"Prom London 1" 

"No : we made a little tour across 
the country." 

" Ah ! very pleasant^ this fine 
weather." 

" Yes ; especially in the evenings." 

" Oho !— romantic ! *• thought the 
man of balls, as he rejoined aloud, 
" Why the nights art agreeable, and the 
moon is particularly favourable to us." 

" Not always ! " quoth the stranger. 

" True — ^true, the night before last 
was dark ; but, in general, surely the 
moon has been very bright." 

The stranger was about to answer, 
but checked himself, and simply 
bowed his head as in assent. 

" I wonder who they are ! " thought 
the master of the ceremonies. "Pray, 
sir," said he, in a low tone, "is that 
gentleman — that iaiJIl gentleman, any 

way related to Lord % I cannot 

but think I see a family likeness." 

" Not in the least related to his 
lordship," answered the stranger; 
"but he is of a family that have made 
a noise in the world ; though he (as 
well as my other friend) is merely a 
commoner!" laying a stress on the 
last word. 

" Nothing, sir, can be more respect- 
able than a commoner of family," 



returned the polite Mr. , with 4 

bow. 

" I agree with yon, air," answered 
the stranger, with another. "But, 
heavens!" — and the stranger started ; 
for at that moment his eye caught for 
the first time, at the fitr end of the 
room, the youthful and brilliant coun- 
tenance of Lucy Brandon, — " do I see 
rightly ? or is that Miss Brandon V* 

"It is indeed that lovely young 

lady," said Mr. . "I congratulate 

you on knowing one so admired. I 
suppose that you, being blessed with 
her acquaintance, do not need the 
formality of my introduction?" 

" Umph ! " said the stranger, rather 
shortly and nncourteonsly — " No! 
Perhaps you had better present me ! " 

" By what name shall I have that 
honour, sirl" discreetly inquired the 
nomenclator. 

"Glifibrd ! " answered the stranger ; 
" Captain CUflFord!" 

Upon this, the prim master of the 
ceremonies, threadinghis path through 
the now fiist-fiUing room, approached 
towards Lucy to obey Mr. CliflTord's 
request. Meanwhile, that gentleman, 
before he followed the steps of the 
tutelary spirit of the place, paused, 
and said to his friends, in a tone 
careless, yet not without command, 
" Hark ye, gentlemen, oblige me by 
being as civil and silent as ye are 
able, and don't thrust yourselves upon 
me, as you are accustomed to do, when- 
ever you see no opportunity of indulge 
ing me with that honour with the least 
show of propriety 1 " So saying, and 
waiting no reply, Mr. Clifford hjistened 
after the master of the ceremonies. 

"Our friend grows mighty impe* 
rious ! " said Long Ned, whom our 
readers have already recognised in 
the tall stranger. 

' 'Tis the way with your ri^ng 
geniuses," answered the moralising 
Augustus Tomlinson. "Suppose we 
go to the card-room, and get up a 
rubber!" 



PAUL OLIFFOKD. 



118 



" Well thought of," uud Ned, yawn- 
ing,— a thing he was veiy apt to do 
in society; "and I wish nothing worse 
to those who tiy onr rtMarst than 
that they may be well cleaned by 
them." Upon this witticism the Co- 
lossus of Boads, ghmdng towards the 
glass, strutted off, ann-in-arm with 
his companion to tiie card-room. 

Daring this short conrersation the 
re-introdnction of Mr. Clifford (the 
stranger of the Bectory and deliverer 
of Dr. Slopperton) to Lncy Brandon 
had been ^ected, and the hand of 
the heiress was already engaged (ac- 
cording to the custom of that time) 
for the two ensuing dances. 

It was about twenty minutes after 
the above presentationhad taken place, 
that Lord Mauleverer and William 
Brandon entered the rooms ; and the 
buzz created by the appearance of 
the noted peer and the distinguished 
lawyer had scarcely subsided, before 
the royal personage expected to grace 
the " festive scene " (as the news- 
papers say of a great room with plenty 
of miserable-looking people in it) 
arrived. The most attractive persons 
in Europe may be found among the 
royal &mily of England, and the great 
personage then at Bath, in conse- 
quence of certain political intrigues, 
wished, at that time especially, to 
make himself as popular as possible. 
Having gone the round of the old 
ladies, and assured them, as the Court 
Journal assures the old ladies at this 
day, that they were "morning stars," 
and " swan-like wonders," the Prince 
espied Brandon, and immediately 
beckoned to him with a fEoniliar 
gesture. The smooth but saturnine 
lawyer approached the royal presence 
with the manner that peculiarly dis- 
tinguished him, and which blended, 
in no ungraceful mixture, a species of 
i^iJBfhess, that passed with the crowd 
for native independence, with a supple 
insinuation, that was usually deemed 
the token of latenA benevolence of 

No. 28. 



heart There was B<»nething, indeed, 
in Brandon's address that' always 
pleased the great; and th^ liked 
him the better, because, though he 
stood on no idle political points, mere 
differences in the view taken of a hair- 
breadth, — such as a com law, or a 
Catholic bill ; alteration in the church, 
or a reform in parliament; yet he 
invariably talked so like a man of 
honour (except when withMauleverer), 
that his urbanity seemed attachment 
to individuals; and his concessions 
to power, sacrifices of private opinion 
for the. sake of obliging his friends. 

" I am very glad, indeed," said the 
royal personage, "to see Mr. Brandon 
looking so much better. Never was 
the crown in greater want of his 
services; and, if rumour speak true, 
th^ will soon be required in another 
department of his profession." 

Brandon bowed, and answered >— 

"So, please your royal highness, 
they will always be at the command 
of a king from whom I have experi- 
enced such kindness, in any capacity 
lor which his Majesty may deem them 
fitting." 

" It is true, then ! " said his royal 
highness, significantly. " I congratu- 
late you ! The quiet dignity of the 
bench must seem to you a great 
change after a career so busy and - 
restless?" 

"I fear I shall feel it so at first, 
your royal highness," answered Bran- 
don, " for I like even the toil of my 
profession ; and at this moment, when 
I am in full practice, it more than 
ever— but (checking himself at once) 
his Mi^est/s wishes, and my satisfac- 
tion in complying with ibem, are 
more than sufficient to remove any 
momentary regret I might otherwise 
have felt in quitting those toils which 
have now become to me a second 
nature." 

" It is possible," rejoined the 
Prince, " that his Majesty took into 
consideration the delicate state of 
8 



Ui 



PAUL oufford; 



httUh whiek, in comnuuivith the 
wholfl pid>lk, I griave to «ae.the 
ptpem hA«e attrilKilad to one of tlw 

BhOSt HifliingrniflliAd onUUBfiUtA Cf tb» 

. ^' flo, please your loyal highnetw," 
answered Brandon, eooUy, and mtik & 
smile vhioh the sioet picireincr ^3^ 
eould not hatve hidleyed tlie suBk to 
tiie agony then gnawing at his nenrei^ 
" it is the iBtensi of my xivnis to 
exagseiate the little ailments of a 
weak eonstitiition. I thank FreTi- 
dmuse that I am now «itirely moo- 
Tend; and at no time of my ]i& ham 
I been less nnaUe to dkchaige-^so 
ftr as my tmime and mental incapa- 
eities wiU allow— the duties of any 
oeeupatioB, however arduous. Nay, 
as the brute gvows accustomed to the 
miS, sohave I grown wedded to bnsi- 
neas; andefen the bdef relaxation I 
have now allowed myself s e ems to me 
rather irksome than pleasunble." 

" I r^oiee to hear yon speak tims^" 
answered his royal hlghiiMS, wacniy ; 
" and I trust for many yearsy and," 
added he^ in a lower tone, ''in the 
highest chamber of the senate, that 
im may profit by year talents. The 
times are those in whieh many occa- 
smns occoc, that ohl^ iiX true Meads 
of the consHtntion to quit minor 
employment for that great coMtita- 
tional one that concerns us aU, the 
highest and the meanest; and (the 
royal voioe sank etiU lower) I feel 
jostified in wurarxng you, that the 
office of ehief justice alone is not con- 
sidered by his Mtimby as a sufficient 
reward lor yonr gmerous ssenfice of 
prasent amhitiioii to the difficulties- of 
goFenunent.'' 

Brandon'-s proud heart awelled, and 
that moment the veriest pains of imll 
woidd soaice^ hare been felt 

While the aspiring schemer was 
thus agreeably engaged, Mauleverar, 
slubng ihroQgh the crowd with that 
gtace which diarmed every one, old 
and young, aad addressing to all he 



knew some lively or afieotionate re- 
maik, made his way to the dancen^ 
among whom he had just caught a 
gUmpae of Iiucy. ''I wonder," he 
thought, " whom she ia dancing with. 
I hope it is tiiat zidienlons feUow, 
Mossc^, who tells a good story against 
himself^ or that handsome ass, Belr 
mont, who looks ait his own lega^ , 
instead of seeming to have eyes for 
no one bat his partner. Ah. 1 if Tar* 
qnin had bnt known wmnen as well 
as I do, he would have had no reason 
to he rough with Lncrotia. 'Tis a 
thonsaad pities that eiqierieDce comes, 
in wmnen, aa in the woirid, just when 
it begins to benolongerof use tonal" 
As he made these moral refleotions, 
Manlofoar gained the dancers, and 
beheld Lu^y listening, with downcast 
^ws aad cheeksihab evidaUiy blushed, 
to a yemig man, whom Manleverer 
adcnowiedged at onoe to be one of 
the best-looking faliowa he had ever 
seen. The strapper's oomKtenance, do- 
i^ite an extreme daikness of com- 
plezion, was, to be sure, from the 
great regiriarify of the featnreSi rather 
efieminate ; faat^ on the other hand, 
his figure^ though slender and grace- 
fill, betnond to an experienced eye 
an eztraordinaitf proportion of sinew 
and mnaele: and even the dash of 
effeminacy in the countenance was 
accompanied by so manly and firank 
anab:, and was ao peifecUy free from 
all eoxoombry or se3f-oimoeiti^ that it 
did not in the least decrease the pre* 
possessing effitct of his appearance. 
An angiy and bitter pang shot across 
that portion of Uaoleverer's fiame 
which the earl thought fit, for want 
of another name, to call his heart. 
'' BJDw curaedly pleased dm looks 1 " 
mnttomd he. ** Bf heaven! that 
stolen glanoe under the left eyelid, 
dropped as suddenly as it is raised 1 
and he — ^ha 1 — how firmly he holds 
that httle hand. I think I see him 
paddle with it; and then the dog's 
earnest^ intent look — and she all 



PATJL OLIPFOBD. 



115 



.blushes! ihoagb she dare not look 
up to meet his gaze, feelmg it hj 
intnitioiL Oh ! the demnre, modest, 
ahame&ced hypocrite! How silent 
she is ! — she can prate enongh to me/ 
I would give my promised garter if 
she would but talk to him. Talk-- 
talk — ^laugh — prattle — only simper, 
in €k>d'8 name, and I ehatt be happy ! 
But that bashful, blushing silence — 
it is insupportable. Thank Heayen, 
the dance is oyer! Thank Heaven, 
again! I have not felt such pains 
mnce the last nightmare I had, after 
4{|ning with her &tiier ! " 

Widi a &ee all smiles, but with a 
mien in which moro dignity than he 
ordinary assumed was worn, Ifiaule- 
veier now moved towards Lucy, who 
was leaning on her partner's arm. 
The earl, who had ample tact where 
his consummate selfishness did not 
warp it^ knew well how to act the 
lover, without running ridiculously 
into the folly of seeming to play the 
hoary dangler. He sought rather to 
be liv^y than sentimental; and be- 
neath the wit to conceal the suitor. 

Having paid, then, with a careless 
gallantry, his first compliments, he 
entered into so animated a conversa- 
tion, interspersed with so many naive 
yet palpably just observations on the 
chanicten present, that perhaps he 
had never appeared to more brilliant 
advantage. At length, as the music 
was about to recommence, Mauleverer, 
with a careless glance at Lucy's part- 
ner, said, " Will Miss Brandon now 
allow me the agreeable duty of con- 
dueting her to her^herl" 

"I beUeve," answered Lucy, and 
her voice suddenly became timid, 
" that, according to the laws of the 
rooms, I am engaged to this gentle- 
man for another dance." 

Clifford, in an assured and easy 
tone, replied in assent. 

As he spoke, Mauleverer honoured 
him with a more accurate survey than 
he had hitherto bestowed on him; 



and whether or not there was any 
expression of contempt or supercili- 
ousness in the survey, it was sufficient 
to call up the indignant blood to 
Cl]ii»rd's cheek. Betuming the look 
with interest, he said to Lucy, "I 
believe. Miss Brandon, that the dance 
is about to begin;" and Lucy, obey- 
ing the hint, left the aristocratic Mau- 
leverer to his own meditations. 

At that moment the master of the 
ceremonies came bowing by, half 
afraid to address so great a person as 
Manleverer, but willing to show his 
respect by the profoundness of his 
salutation. 

" Aha! my dear Mr. !" sud 

the earl, holding out both his hands 
to the Lycurgus of the rooms ; " how 
are you ? Pray can you inform me 
who that young — man is, now dancing 
with Miss Brandon r 

** It is— let me see— Oh ! it is a Cap- 
tain CUfibrd, my lord ! a very fine 
young man, my lord ! Has your lord- 
ship never met him 1 " 

" Never ! who is he 1 One under 
your more especial patronage?" said 
the earl, smiling. 

" Nay, indeed ! " answered the mas- 
ter of the ceremonies, with a simper 
of gratification ; " I scarcely know 
who he ifi yet ; the captain only made 
his appearance here to-night for the 
first time. He came with two other 
gentlemen — ah ! there they are ! " and 
he pointed the earFs scrutinising 
attention to the elegant forms of Mr. 
Augustus Tomlinson and Mr. Ked 
Pepper, just emerging from the card- 
rooms. The swagger of the latter 
gentleman was so peculiarly impor- 
tant, that Mauleverer, angry as he 
was, could scarcely help laughing. 
The master of the ceremonies noted 
the oarVs countenance, and remarked, 
that " that fine-looking man seemed 
disposed to give himself airs' ! " 

" Jud^ng from the gentleman's 
appearance," said the earl, drily (Ned's 
&ce, to say truth, did betoken his 
i2 



116 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



ftffeciion for the boiUe), "I ahoidd 
imagine thai he was much more ao- 
customed to gire himaelf thorough 
draughti!" 

'' Ah ! " renewed the arbiier degan- 
Harum, who had not heard Maole- 
verer'B observation, which was uttered 
in a Tery low voice, — " Ah ! they seem 
real da^ers ! " 

''Dashen!" repeated Mauleverer: 
'* true, haberdaahers V* 

Long Ned now, having in the way 
of his profeBfiion acquitted himself 
tolerably well at the card-table, thought 
he had purchased the right to parade 
himself through the rooms, and shew 
the ladies what stuff a Pepper could 
be made of. 

Leaning with his left hand on 
Tomlinson's arm, and employing the 
right in fanning himself furiously with 
his huge chapeau hraa, the lengthy 
adventurer stalked slowly along, — 
now setting out one leg jauntily — ^now 
the other, and ogling "the ladies" 
with a kind of Irish look, viz., a look 
between a wink and a stare. 

Released from the presence of Clif- 
ford, who kept a certain check on his 
companions, the. apparition of Ned 
became glaringly conspicuous; and 
wherever he passed, a universal whis- 
per succeeded. 

*' Who can he be)" said the widow 
Hatemore ; ** 'tis a droll creature : 
but what a head of hair 1" 

" For my part," answered the spin- 
ster Sneerall, "I think he is a linen- 
draper in disguise ; for I heard him 
talk to his companion of ' tape.' " 

" Well, well," thought Mauleverer, 
"it would be but kind to seek out 
Brandon, and hint to him in what 
company his niece seems to have 
fallen !" And, so thinking, he glided 
to the comer where, with a grey- 
headed old politician, the astute lawyer 
was conning the affairs of Europe. 
. In the interim, the second dance 
had ended, and Clifford was conduct- 
ing Lucy to her seat, each charmed 



with the other, when he found himself 
abruptiy tapped on the back, and, 
tumhig round in alann, — for such 
taps were not unfamiliar to him, — ^he 
saw the cool countenance of Long 
Ned, with one finger sagaciously hiid 
beside the nose. 

" How now r said Clifford, between 
his ground teeth, ''did I not tell thee 
to put that huge bulk of thine as far 
from me as possible 1" 

" Humph !" grunted Ned, " if these 
are my thanks, I may as weh keep my 
kindness to myself; but know you, 
my kid, that hiwyer Brandon is her% 
peering through the crowd, at this 
very moment, in order to catch a 
glimpse of that woman's fiice of thine." 

" Ha !" answered Clifford, in a veiy 
quick tone, ''begone, then! I will 
meet you without the rooms imme- 
diately." 

Clifford now turned to his partner, 
and bowing very low, in reality to 
hide his feice from those sharp eyes 
which had onee seen it in the court 
of Justice Bumflat^ said, "I trusl^ 
madam, I shall have tiie honour to 
meet you again j-^is it, if I may be 
allowed to ask, wiih your celebrated 
uncle that you are staying, or " 

" With my father," answered Lucy, 
concluding the sentence Clifford had 
left unfinished; "but my uncle has 
been with us, though I fear he leaves 
us to-morrow." 

Clifford's eyes sparkled; he made 
no answer, but, bowing again, receded 
into the crowd, and disappeared. 
Several times that night did the 
brightest eyes in Somersetshire rove 
anxiously round the rooms in search 
of our hero ; but he was seen no 
more. 

It was on the stairs that Clifford 
encountered his comrades ; taking an 
arm of each, he gained the door with- 
out any adventure worth noting— save 
that, being kept back by the crowd 
for a few moments, the moralising 
Augustus Tomlinson, who honoured 



PAITL CLIFfOBD. 



IIT 



the moderate Wldgs hy enrolling 
himself among their number, took 
up, pour poMtr U temps, a tall gold- 
headed cane, and, weighing it across 
his finger with a musing air, said, 
''Alas t among onr sapporters we 
often meet heads as heavy — but 
of what a different metal!" The 
crowd now permitting, Augustus was 
walking away with his companions, 
and, in that absence of mind charac- 
teristic of philosophers, unconsciously 
bearing with him the gold-headed 



object of his reflection, when a stately 
footman stopping up to him, 8aid» 
"Sir, my cane!" 

"Cane, fellow!" said Tomlinson* 
"Ah, I am so absent !-— Here is thy 
cane.— ^Only think of my carrying off 
the man's cane, Ned ! ha I ha !" 

"Absent^ indeed!" grunted a 
knowing chairman, watching the 
receding figures of the three ^ntle- 
men: "Body o* me! but it was «A« 
oaTie that was about to be absent ! " 



CHAPTBE XYL 



Whackum,-^** "iij dear rognee, dear boys, Bluster and DIngboy ! you are the brarest 
fellows that erer scoured yet ! " Shadwsll'b Seourert, 

•* Cato, the Tbessalian, was wont to say, that some things may he done unjustly, that 
many things may he done justly." 

Loan Baoom (being a Jnstillcatiim of eTevy rascality). 



Althovoh our three worthies had 
taken unto themselves a splendid 
lodging in Milsom Street, which to 
please Ned was over a hadr-dresser's 
shop ; yet» instead of returning thi- 
ther, or repairing to such tayems as 
might seem best befitting their fiishion 
and garb, they struck at once from 
the gay parts of the town, and tarried 
not till they reached a mean-looking 
alehouse in a remote suburb. 

The door was opened to them by 
an elderly lady ; and Clifford, stalking 
before his companions into an apart- 
ment at the back of the house, asked 
if the other gentlemen were come yet. 
" No," returned the dame. '• Old 
Mr. Bags came in about ten minutes 
ago ; but, hearing more work might 
be done, he went out again." 

" Bring the lush and the pipes, old 
blone ! " cried Ned, throwing himself 
on a bench ; " we are never at a loss 
for company ! " 

"You, indeed, never can be, who 
are always inseparably connected with 



the object of your admiration," said 
Tomlinson drily, and taking up an 
old newspaper. Ned, who, though 
choleric, was a capital fellow, and 
could bear a joke on himself smiled, 
and, drawing forth a little pair of 
scissors, began trimming his nails. 

" Curse me," said he, after a mo* 
mentaiy silence, "if this is not a 
devilish deal pleasanter than playing 
the fine gentleman in that great room 
with a rose in one's button-hole J 
What say you, Master Lovett 1 " 

Clifford (as henceforth, despite his 
other aliases, toe shall denominate 
our hero), who had thrown himself at 
full lengih on a bench at the far end 
of the room, and who seemed plunged 
into a sullen revery, now looked up 
for a moment, and then, turning 
round and presenting the dorsal part 
of his body to Long Ned, muttered, 
" Pfeh ! " 

"Harkye, Master Lovett!" said 
Long Ned, colouring. " I don't know 
what has come over you of late ; but 



118 



PAUL CUFJPOSD. 



I wonld have yoa to learn that 0Bntie<. 
MUBBL are entitled to ooitrteqr and 
polite behayioor: and so, d'ye see, if 
jon ride yoor high hoxae upon me, 
spHoe my extremitiea if I iron't have 
■Btis&etion!'' 

** HiBt, man, be qiuet^'* said ToKh 
linflon, philosophieidly snnffisg the 
eandlt 



- For oomiMiiioiu to qmnd, 
1m extrancly ImmoraL 

Don't you see that the captain is in a 
reyery 1 what good man ever loyee to 
be interrupted in his meditations 1 — 
Eyen Alfred the Great could not bear 
it ! Perhaps, at this moment, with 
the true anxiety of a worthy chie^ 
the captain is designing something 
for our welfiire I " 

" Captain, Indeed ! "muttered Long 
Ked, darting a wrathful look at Clif- 
ford, who had not deigned to pay any 
attention to Mr. Pepper's threat ; 
" for my part I cannot conceiye what 
was the matter wiUi uh when we ohose 
this green slip of the gallomhtree fbr 
our captain of the distriet To be 
sore, he did reiy well at firsts a&d 
that lobbeiy of the old lord was not 
ill-planned— but hitely " 

''Kay, nay," ^uoth Aogostua, inter- 
rupting the gigantic grumbler, "the 
nature of man is prone to discontent. 
Allow that our present design of set- 
ting up the gi^ Lothario, and txying 
•ur chances at Bath for an heisess, is 
owing as much to Lorett's promptif 
tude as to our inTention." 

''And what good will come of iti" 
returned Ned, as he lighted his {npe : 
" answer me that. Was I not dressed 
as fine as a lord — and did not I walk 
three times up and down that great 
room without behig a jot the better 
Ibritr 

" Ah 1 but ywL know not how many 
secret conquests you may haye made : 
you cannot wm a prize by looking 
upon it." 

" Humph 1 " grunted Ned, ^>plying 



himaelf disesnieHkedly ta tiie young 
ezistenoe of his pip& 

" Aa for the captain's partner," re- 
newed Tomllniw, who' malieionsly 
delighted in exeiting the jealousy of 
the haadseme " tax-eoUector," for 
that was the designation by which An* 
gustus thought proper to style himself 
and eompanioiuH-" I mil turn Tex; 
if she be not alieady half in love with 
him ; and did you hear the old gentle* 
man who cut intoour rubber say what 
afine fortune she had? Faith, Ned, 
it is lucky for us two that we all agreed 
to go shiures in our marriage specula- 
tions; I fimcy the worthy captain will 
think it a bad baxgain for himself." 

" I am not so sure of that, Mr. Tom- 
Iin8on,'^said Long Ned, sourly eyeing 
his comrade. 

" Some women may be caught by a 
smooth skin and a showy manner, but 
reed masculine beauty, — eyes, colour^ 
and hair, — Mr. Tomlinson, must ulti- 
mately make its way : so hand me the 
brandy and eeaae your jaw." 

" WeU, weU," said Tomlinstm, " I'U 
giye you a toast— ^ The prettiest 
giri in Englaad;'-*aad that's Mjaa 
BfandonI" 

" Ton shall giye no snoh toast^ 
sirl" said Cliflfo^ startrng Irom the 
bench.—'' What the deril is Miss 
Brandon to you) And now, Ned,"-* 
(seeing that the tall here looked on 
him with an unfoi70urable aspect),— > 
" here 'amy hand, forgive me if I was 
vDcxviL Tomlinson will teU you, in 
amazam, men are changeable. Here's 
to your health ; and it shaU not be 
my fault, gentlemen, if we haye nott 
a merry eyenuig I " 

This speedb, short as it was, met 
with great applause from the twe 
friends; and Gilford, as president^ 
stationed himaelf in a huge chair at 
the head of the table. Scarcely had 
he assumed this dignity, before the 
door opened, and half-ardozen of the 
gentlemen confederates trooped some- 
what noisily into the apartment. 



PAUL CLI9F0BD. 



U9 



« Softly, softly, meflaienns'' bhUL ibe 
prerident, recovoringr "^ bisoonslitQ* 
tional gaiety, yet blendisg it with a 
certain negliSent comnHyid — ^"T«q>eei 
for the chair, if yoa please ! Tia the 
way with all asaemhlieB where the 
public pnne i&M matter of deferential 
interest!" 

*' Hear him ! * cried TomUnsoa. 

" What, my old friend B^gal " end 
the president : " yon hav« not eosne 
emply-handed, I will sweap; your 
honest fiice is like the table ot con- 
tents to the good things in your 
pockets f" 

<« Ah, Capti^ OUffiord/' said the 
YCteran, groaning, and shaking his 
reverend head, " I ha^e seen the day 
when there was not a lad in Bngland 
forked so laigely, socoraprehenavely- 
like, as I did. But, as King Lear 
says at Common Qsrd^t, 'I he's old 
now!'" 

" But yonr zeal k as yontiifiil as 
ever, my fine fellow," said theci^ytam, 
soothingly ; " and tf yon do not dean 
out the pnblic as thoroughly as here- 
tofore, it is not the fiiolt of your 
inclinations." 

"No, that it is not!" cried the 
" tax-collectoTS " nnlmimouBly. " And 
if ever a pocket is to be picked neatly, 
quietly, and eflfeetnally," added th^ 
complimentary CUfibrd, " I do not 
know to this day, thnmghont the 
three kingdoms, a neater, quieter, and 
more effective set of fingers than Old 
Bags's!" 

The veteran bowed disclaiming, 
and took his seat among thehear^elt 
good wishes of the whole assemblage. 

''And now, gentlemen," said Ollf- 
ibrd, as soon as the revellers had pro- 
vided themselves with their wonted 
Inznries, potatory and fomons, " let 
ns hear yonr adventures, and rqfoioe 
our eyes with their produce. The 
gallant Attic shall begin — ^but first, 
a toast, — ' May those who leap from a 
hedge never leap from a tree ! * " 

This toast being drunk with enthn- 



siaatle qtplanse, Fighting Attie began 
the redtal of his lUtle history. 

" Ton sees^ captain," said he^ pat- 
ting himself in a martial position, and 
iookiag CSiffbrd fiiUin the fiKse, "that 
I 'm not addicted to much blarney. 
Little oiy and mvch wiwl is my motto. 
At ten: o'clock, a.x. mm the enemy*- 
in the aiuspe of a Dfoetor of Divinity. 
' Blow me,* says I to Old Bags, 'bat 
ru do hia reverence!'—' Blow- me,' 
says Old Bags^ « but yon shan't--, 
yottll havens aeiagged if you touches 
the ohureh.' — < My grandmother}' 
says I. Bags tells the pals-niil in a 
ftiBB aboat it^what can I t-«>I puts 
oo a^ deeent dress, and goca to the 
doctor as a decayed soldier, wot sap^ 
pfies the shops in the tunimgline^ 
His vev«i«nae— a fiU jolly dog as ever 
yon see— WW at dinner over a fine 
roastpig. So I teOs him I have some 
bargains at home fbr him. Splice me^ 
if the doctor did not think he had got 
a prize * so he puts on has boots, and 
he comes with me to my house. But 
when I gets him into a lane, out come 
my popsb ' Give up, doctor,' says I ; 
' others must shore the goods of the 
church now.' You h» no idea, what 
a row he made : but I did the thing, 
and there *s an end on H." 

^ Ht&yo, Attie t " cned Clifioid, and 
the word echoed round the board. 
Attie put a purse on the tahl^ and the 
next gentleman was callbd to con- 
ftssion. 

"It skills not, boots not," gentlest 
of readera, to reoofd each of tiie nar- 
ratives thatrnew followed one another. 
Old Bags, in especial, praserved his 
^ralteamed r^)irtation, by emptying 
mx pockets, which had been filled with 
eveiy posi^ble desoription of petty 
valuables. Peasant and prince ^h 
peared alike to luKf» come under his 
hands ; and, perhaps, the goodold man 
had done in one town more towards 
eflfeeting an equalil^ of goods among 
different ranks, than all ih» Beformexa, 
fix>m Cornwall to OarUsle. Tet so 



120 



PAUL CLIFFOBD. 



keen was lug appetite for the sport, 
that the veteran appropriator abso- 
lutely burst into teais at not haying 
"forked more." 

"1 loye a wann-hearted enthn- 
siasm," cried (Hifford, handling the 
moyablesy while he gased loyinglj on 
the ancient pnrloiner: — ^"May new 
cases never teach us to forget Old 

BtLffil" 

As soon as this "sentiment ** had 
been duly drunk, and Hr. Bagshot had 
dried his tears and applied himself to 
his fikvourite drink— which, by the 
way, was "blue ruin," — ^the work of 
division took place. The discretion 
and impartiality of the captain in this 
arduous part of his duty attracted 
nniversaladmiration; and each gentle- 
man having carefully pouched his 
share, the youthful president hemmed 
thrice, and the society became aware 
of a purposed speech. 

"Gentlemenr began Clifford,-— and 
his main supporter, the sapient Au- 
gustus, shouted out " Hear 1 "— " Qen- 
Uemen, you all know that when, some 
months ago, yon were pleased, — 
partly at the instigation of Gentleman 
6^fge> — G^ hless himl — partly 
from the exaggerated good opinion 
expressed of me by my friendiB, — ^io 
elect me to the high honour of ^the 
command of this district, I myself was 
by no means ambitious to assume that 
rank, which I knew well was far be- 
yond my merits, and that responsibi- 
lity which I knew, with equal certunty, 
was too weighty for my powers. Your 
voices, however, overruled my own; 
and as Hr. Muddlepud, the great 
metaphysician, in that excellent paper 
' The Asinieum ' was wont to observe, 
'the susceptibilities, innate, exten- 
sible, incomprehensible, and eternal,' 
existing in my bosom, were infinitely* 
more powerfiU than.the shallow sug- 
gestions of reason — that ridiculous 
thing which all wise men and judicious 
Aainieans sedulously stifle." 
./' Plague take the man, wliat is he 



talking about ? " said Long Ned, who 
we have seen was of an envious temper, 
in a whisper to Old Bags. Old ^igs 
shook his head. 

" In a word, gentlemen," renewed 
Clifford, " your kindness overpowered 
me; and, despite my cooler incli- 
nations, I accepted your flattering 
proposal. Since then I have endea- 
voured, so fiyr as I have been able, to 
advance your interests ; I have kept a 
vigiUint eye upon all my neighbours ; 
I have, from county to county, esta- 
blished numerous correspondents ; 
and our exertions have been carried 
on with a promptitude that haa 
ensured success. 

" Gentlemen, I do not wish to boast» 
but on these nights of periodical 
meetings, when eveiy quarter brings 
us to go halves — ^when we meet in 
private to discuss the afiurs of the 
public — show our earnings, as it were, 
in privy council, and divide them 
amicably, as it were, in the cabinet — 
('Hear! hear!' from Mr. Tomlinson), 
— it is customary for your captain for 
the time being to remind you of his 
services, engage your pardon for his 
deficiencies, and your good wishes for 
his future exertions. — Gentlemen! 
has it ever been said of Paul Lovett 
that he heard of a prize and foigot to 
tell you of his news]— (' Never ! never I ' 
loud cheering). — Has it ever been said 
of him that he sent others to seize the 
booty, and stayed at home to think 
how it should be spent ? — (' No ! no !* 
repeated cheers.)— Has it ever been 
said of him that he took less share 
than his due of your danger, and more 
of your guineas ) — (Cries in the n^a- 
tive, accompanied with vehement ap- 
plause.) — Gentlemen, I thank you for 
these flattering and audible testimo- 
nials In my fiivour ; but the points on 
which I have dwelt, however necessary 
to my honour, would prove but little 
for my merits; they might be worthy 
notice in your comrade, you demand 
more subtle duties in your chief. 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



121 



Oentlemen ! has it ever been said of 
Paul Loyett that he sent ont brave 
men on forlorn hopes 1 that he ha- 
carded your own heads by rash 
attempts in acquiring pictures of King 
Qeoige'sl that zeal, in shorty was 
greater in him than caution 1 or that 
his love of a quid* ever made him 
neglectful of your just aversion to a 
quod ? ■h~(TJnanimous cheering). 

'' Gentlemen I since I have had the 
honour to preside over your welfitre, 
Fortune, which fikTonrs the bold, has 
not been unmerdfui to you! But 
three of our companions hare been 
missed from our peaoefol festiyities. 
One, gentlemen, I myself expelled 
from our corps for ungentlemanlike 
practices : he picked pockets of 
fogleB t— it was a vulgar employment. 
Some of you, gentlemen, have done 
the same for amu8ement--Jack Little- 
fork did it for occupation. I expostu- 
lated with him in public and in 
private ; Mr. Pepper cut hia society ; 
llr. Tomlinson r^ him an essay on 
Beal Greatness of Soul : all was in 
vain. He was pumped by the mob 
for the theft of a birda eye wipe. The 
fault I had borne with — the detection 
was unpardonable : I expelled him. — 
Who*B here so base as would be a 
/ogle-hunter? If any, speak; for him 
have I offended ! Who 's here so rude 
as would not be a gentleman 1 If any, 
speak; for him have I offended! I 
pause for a reply ! What, none ! then 
none have I offended. (Loud cheers). 
Gentlemen, I may truly add, that I 
have done no more to Jack Littlefork 
than, you should do to Paul Lovett ! 
The next vacancy in our ranks was 
occasioned by the loss of Patrick 
BlunderbuU. Ton know, gentlemen, 
the vehement exertions tbat I made 
to save that misguided creature, whom 
I had made exertions no less earnest 
to instruct But he chose to swindle 



* Quid— a guinea. t Quod— a prison. 
t Handkerchiefs. 



under the name of the ' Honourable 
Captain Smico ; ' the Peerage gave 
him the lie at once; his case was one ■ 
of aggravation, and he was so re- 
markably ugly, that he ' created no 
interest' He left us for a foreign 
exile ; and if, as a man, I lament him, 
I confess to you, gentlemen, as a ' tax- 
collector,' I am easily consoled. 

" Our third loss must be fresh in 
your memory. Peter Popwell, as bold 
a fellow as ever breathed, is no more ! 
(Amovement intheassembly). — ^Peace 
be with him t He died on the field 
of battle; shot dead by a Scotch 
colonel, whom poor Popwell thought 
to rob of nothing with an empty 
pistol. His memory, gentlemen — ^in 
solemn silence t 

" These make the catalogue of our 
losses,"— (resumed the youthful chief, 
so soon as the " red cup had crowned 
the memory " of Peter Popwell),—" I 
am proud, even in sorrow, to think 
that the blame of those losses rests 
not with me. And now, friends and 
followers! Gentlemen of the Boad, 
the Street, the Theatre, and the Shop ! 
Prigs, Toby-men, and Squires of the 
Cross I According to the laws of our 
Society, I resign into your hands that 
power which for two quarterly terms 
you have confided to mine, ready to 
sink into -your ranks as a comrade, 
nor unwilling to renounce the painfrtl 
honour I have borne ,^ — borne with 
much infirmity, it is true ;• but at least 
with a sincere desire to serve that 
cause with which you have intrusted 
me." 

So saying, the Captain descended 
from his chair amidst the most 
uproarious applause ; and as soon as 
the first burst had partially subsided, 
Augustus Tomlinson rising, with one 
hand in his breeches' pocket and the 
other stretched out, said : 

"Gentlemen, I move that Paul 
Lovett be again chosen as our Captain 
for the ensuing term of three mouths. 
— (Deafening cheers.)— Much might I 



122 



PAUL GLIFFOBD. 



laj about his BurpAssin^ merits; bat 
why dwell upon that which is ob- 
TiouB? Life is short! Why should 
speeches be longl Our lives^ pei^ 
haps, are shorter than the Hves of 
other men: why should not our 
harangues be of a suitable brevity? 
Oentlemen, I shall aay but one word 
in faYonr of my ezoellettt friend ; ef 
mine, say II ay, <rf mine, of yours. 
He is a friend to all of us 1 A. prime 
minister is not more useful to his fol- 
lowers, and more buiihenaome to the 
publie than I am proud to say is— 
Paul LoYOtt !— -(Loud plandita.) — 
What 1 shall urge in his inYoar is 
simply this : the man whom opposite 
parties unite in iHraaaing mnst ham 
Bupereminent merit. Of all your com- 
panions, gentlemen, Paid Lorett is 
the only man who to that merit can 
advance a daim. — (AppUmse.)-— Yon 
aU know, gentlemen, that our body 
has long been divided into two fiui* 
tions ; each jealous of the othei^— each 
deaiious of ascendancy-— and each 
emulous which shall put the greatest 
number of fingers into the publie pie. 
In the language of the Tulgar, the one 
fiiction would be called ' swindlerSy' 
and the other ' highwiqnnen.' I, gen- 
tlemen, who am fond of fin^g new 
names for things, and for perMms, and 
am a bit of a politician, call the one 
Whigs, and the other Torie9,^{C\tk- 
morous cheering.)— Of the former 
body, I am esteemed no uninfluential 
member ; of the Utter fiietion, lir. 
Bags is justly considered the most 
shining ornament. Mr. Attie and 
Mr. Edward Pepper can soaieelybe 
said to belong entirely to either : they 
unite the good quidities of both : 
' British compounds ' some term 
them : I term them Liberal Aristo- 
crarfs /—(Cheers.) — I now call upon 
you all. Whig or Sirindler ; Tory or 
Highwayman; 'British Compounds' 
OT Liberal Aristocrats ; I oidl up<m 
you all, to name me one man whom 
you wUl all agree to electt** 



AU—" Lointt for ever ! " 

" Gentlemen ! " continued the saga- 
cious Augustus ''that shout is si^ 
eient ; without another word, I pro* 
pose, as ymnr Oaptaitt, Mr. Paul 

LoYCtt." 

" And I Bseondfltbe MDtian r add 
old Mr. Bags. 

Our liero^ being saw, by the unaBi* 
mouB applaase of faaa oonfoderate^ 
restored to the ehair of office, returned 
thanks in a neat speeeh ; and fiearlet 
Jem dedand^ with gteat solemnity, 
that it did equal faononr to his head 
andhend 

The thunders of dequenoe being 
hushed, fiaAm of UgltfmAng, or, as the 
Yulgsr 81^, " giames of gin;" gleamed 
about Qood old Mr. Bags stuck, 
howe?«r, to his bhce raiB, and Attie 
to the bottle of bingo : some, among 
whom weiie diAird and the wise 
Augustas^ ciAed ibr wine ; and CUf> 
ford, who exsrted himself to the 
utmost in supporting the gay duties 
of his station, took cvs that the song 
should insry the pleasures of the bowL 
Of the soags we have only been en^ 
aUed to preserve two. The first la 
\tj Jjomg Ned ; and, though we con* 
fesB we can see but little in it, yet 
(perhaps from some familiar allusion 
or another, with w4iieh we are neces- 
sarUy unaoquainted,) it produced a 
prodigious esnsation, — it ran thus :^- 

THB MO&CEm BBCIPB. 

*' Yovr hoBesifool a rogue to make* 
Af great as can be seen, sir,— 
Two haokney'd rogues you first mnst take, 
TbeQ place your ibol between* sir. 

Yirtne *8 a dunghill cock, ashamed 
Of self when pair'd with game ones ; 

And wOdest elephants are tamed 
li stuck betwixt two tame onesL** 

The Other effusion with whidi we 
hare the honour to &yoor our readers 
is a very amusing duet i^ich took 
phice between Fighting Attie and a 
tall thin robber, who was a dangerous 



PAUL CLIFPOKD. 



128 



lellaw in a mob, and was therefore 
called Mobbing Francis ; it waa com- 
menced by the latter :— 

MOBBI»« WtUMCm. 

« The test of an xobbers as ever I knofwid, 
lAfhebold Fighting Attiek the Fride«f the 

road!— 
Fighting Attie, my hero, I saw yoa to-day 

A purse fuU of yellow-boys aeixe ; 
And ae, jDst at present, Vm low in the toy* 

I U boRow a quidf if you please* 
Oh ! bold Fighting Atti&.-tfae knowing-^the 
natty— 
By us all it must sure be eonfest. 
Though your shoppers and snobbem are 
pretty good robbers, 
A soldier ia always the best." 

riGBTINO ATTUe. 

-Stubble joarwkid*,* 
Yon wants to triok I. 
Ijend you my quids f 
Not one, by Dickey.* 

VOBBIMO FBAirCfS. 

** Oh, what a beast is a niggardly ruffler, 

Nabbing— grabbing all for himself; 
Hang it, old fellow, 1 11 hit you a muffler, 

Since you won't giveine a pinoh of the pelf. 
Yon ha» not a heart for the genereU du- 
trptt,-' 
You cares not a mag if our party should 
fall. 
And if Scarlet Jem were not good at a press, 
By Goie* it would soon be all'np with ns 
alll— 
Oh, Soavlet Jem, he is trusty and trim. 
Like his wig to his poll, sticks his conscience 

to him: 
But I vowB I despises the feflow wfco prises 
More his own ends than the popolar stock, 
sir; 
And the soldier as bones for himself and his 
crones. 
Should be boned like a traitor himself at 
thebloek,6ir.*' 

ThiB severe response of Mobbing 
Francis's did not in the least raffle 
.the constitutional eahnness of Fight- 
ing Attie; but the wary Clifford, 
seeing that Frands had lost his tem- 
per, and watchful over the least sign 
of disturbance among the oompany. 



* Hold your tongue. 



instantly called for another song, and 
Mobbing Frands sullenly knocked 
down Old Bags. 

The night was far gone, and se 
were the wits of the honest tax? 
gatherers ; when the president com- 
manded silence, and the conviTialists 
knew that their chief was about to 
issue forth the orders for the ensuing 
term. Nothing could be better timed 
than such directions,— during mer- 
riment, and before obliyion. 

"QenHemen!" sud the captain, 
" I will now, with yoor leave, impart 
to you all the plans I have formed Jar 
each. You, Attie, shall repair to 
London : be the Windsor road and 
the pmrlieuB of Pimlieo your especial 
care. Look you, my hero, to these 
letteiB ; th^ will apprise you of much 
work : I need not caution you t6 
silence. Like the oyster, you never 
open your mouth but for something. 
—Honest Old Bags, a rich grazier will 
be in Smithfield on Thursday; his 
name is Hodges, and he will have 
somewhat Gke a thousand pounds in 
his pouch. He is green, fresh, and 
avaridous ; offer to assist him in de- 
frauding his ndghbours in a bargain, 
and cease not till thou hast dene that 
with him which he wished to do to 
others. Be— excellent old man, — ^like 
the frog^fish, which fishes for other 
fishes with two horns that resemble 
baits ; the prey dart at the horin, and 
are down the throat in an instant ! — 
For thee, dearest Jem, tliese letters 
announce a prize: — ^&t is Parson 
Pliant ! full is his purse ; and he rides 
from Henley to Oxford on Friday— I 
need say no more I, As for the resi of 
you, gentlemen, on this paper you will 
see your destinations fixed. I warrant 
you, ye will find enough work till we 
meet again this day three months, 
Myself, Augustas Tomlinson, and Ned 
Pepper, remain at Bath; we have 
business in hand, gentlemen, of parsr 
mount importance; should you by 
accident meet us, never acknowledge 



ISI 



PAUL CLIFFOBD. 



-n— ve are incog.; striking at high 
game, and putting on falcon's plumea 
to do it in character^— joa understand ; 
Init iMs accident can scarcely occur, 
far none of you will remain at Bath ; 
hy to-morrow night, may the road 
leeeire you. And now, gentlemen, 
speed the glass, and 1 11 give yon a 
sentiment by way of a spur to it— 

** • Much sweeter than honey 
Is otber men's money ! ' " 

Our hero's maxim was received with 
aD the enthusiasm which agreeable 
traisms usually create. And old Mr. 
B^pB rose to address the chair ; un- 
kqypUy for the edification of the 
andiefiee, the veteran's foot slipped 
bdbfe he had proceeded fiurther than 
"Mr. President," he fell to the earth 
with a sort of reel— 
•* Like shooting Stan be feU to rise no more ! ** 

Hia body became a capital footstool 
fiv the luxurious Pepper. Now Au- 
gastus Tomlinson and Clifford, ex- 
diai^ging looks, took every possible 
pains to promote the hilarity of the 
erening; and, before the third hour 
cf morning had sounded, they had 
the satis&ction of witnessing the 
ciieeiB of their benevolent labours in 
llie prostrate forms of all their com- 
jMiioTift, Long Ned, naturally more 
c^adous tban the rest^ succumbed 
tlielast. 
" As leaves of trees," sud the chair- 
, waving his hand-— 



«* A» leaves of trees the race of man is found, 
Stiw/resh vHth dew, now withering on the 
gvomnd." 

•Wen said, my Hector of High- 
ways ?" cried Tomlinson; and then 
lining himself to the wine, while he 
employed his legs in removing the 
SB|nne forms of Scarlet Jem and Long 
If edy he continued the Homeric quo- 
tation, with a pompous and self-gratu- 
klMytone, — 

«-&> flonriah (hese when thote have passed 
•wayr- 



" We managed to get rid of our 
friends," began Clifford— 

" Like Whigs in place," interrupted 
the politician. 

" Bight, Tomlinson, thanks to the 
milder properties of our drink, and, 
perohanoe, to the stronger qualities of 
our heads ; and now tell me,my friend, 
what think you of our chimce of suc- 
cess? Shallwe catch an heiress or noti" 

"Why reaUy," said Tomlinson, 
" women are tike those calculations 
in arithmetic, which one -can never 
bring to an exact account; for my 
part, I shall stuff my calves, and look 
out for a widow. You, my good fellow, 
seem to stand a fidr chance with 
Miss " 

"Oh, name her not!" cried Cli^ 
ford, colouring, even through the flush 
which ¥rine had spread over his coun- 
tenance. " Ours are not the tips by 
which her name should be breathed ; 
and £uth, when I think of her, I do 
it anonymously." 

" What, have you ever thought of 
her before this evening]" 

" Tes, for months," answered Clif- 
ford. " Tou remember some time ago, 
when we formed the plan for robbing 
Lord Mauleverer, how, rather for frolic 
tban profit, you robbed Dr. Slopperton, 
of Warlock, while I compassionately 
walked home with the old gentleman. 
Well, at the parson's house, I met Miss 
Brandon; — ^mind, if I speak of her 
by name, you must not; and, by 
Heaven ! — ^but I won't swear. — I ac- 
companied her home. Tou know, be^ 
fore morning we robbed Lord Maule- 
verer; the affair made a noise, and 
I feared to endanger you all if I ap- 
peared in the vicinity of the robbery. 
Since then, business diverted my 
thoughts; we formed the plan of 
trying a matrimonial speculation at 
Bath. I came hitber — guess my sur* 
prise at seeing Jier ** 

" And your delight," added Tom- 
linson, " at hearing she is as rich as 
she is pretty." 



PAUL CLIFFORD; 



125 



« No I * answered Clifford, quickly : 
" that thought gives me no pleasure— 
you stare. I will try and explain. 
You know, dear Tomlinson, I 'm not 
much of a canter, and yet my heart 
shrinks when I look on that innocent 
&ce, and hear that soft, happy voice, 
and think that my love to her can be 
only ruin and disgrace ; nay, that my 
▼ery address is contamination, and my 
Tery glance towards her an insult." 

'* Hey- day r quoth Tomlinson; 
"have you been under my instruc- 
lions, and leuned the true value of 
woidsl and can you have any scruples 
left on BO easy a point of conscience 1 
True, you may <»11 your representing 
yourself to her as an unprofessional 
gentleman, and so winning her affec- 
Uons, deceit; but why call it deceit 
when a ' genius for intrigiLe * is so 
•much neater a phrase : in like manner, 
» by marrying the young lady, if you say 
pou have rmned her, you justly deserve 
to be annihiUted; but why not say 
you have ' saved yowrsdf! and then, 
my dear fellow, you will have done the 
most justifiable thing in the world." 

" Pish, man !" said Clifford, peev- 
ishly; "none of thy sophisms and 
sneers ! " 

" By the soul of Sir Edward Coke, 
I am serious! — But look you, my 
friend, this is not a matter where it is 
convenierU to have a tender-footed 
conscience. Ton see these fellows on 
the ground ! — all d — d clever, and. so 
. forth ; but you and I are of a different 
order. I have had a classical educa- 
tion, seen the world, and mixed in 
decent society; you, too, had not been 
long a member of our club, before you 
distinguished yourself above us all. 
Fortune smiled on your youthful 
audacity. You grew particular in 
horses and dress, frequented public 
haunts, and being a deuced good- 
looking fellow, with an inborn air of 
gentility, and some sort of education, 
you became sufficiently well received 
to acquire, in a short time, the manner 



and tone of a what shall I say, — 

a gentleman, and the taste to lika 
suitable associates. TMs is my cam 
too ! Despite our labours for the 
public weal, the ungrateful dogs stSd 
that we are above them; a single 
envious breast is sufficient to give ua 
to the hangman ; we have agreed that 
we are in danger, we have agreed to 
make an honourable retreat ! we can- 
not do so without money; you know 
the vulgar distich among our seL 
Nothing can be truer-— 

««< Hanging is 'nation 

More nice than stanraUon I * 

You will not carry off some of the 
common stock, though I think you 
justly mighty considering how muck 
you have put into it. What, then, 
shall we do ? Work we cannot 1 Beg 
we will not ! And, between you and 
me, we are cursedly extravagant! 
What remains but marriage ? " 

" It is true ! " said Clifford, with a 
half sigh. 

" You may well sigh, my good 
fellow; marriage is a lackadaisical 
proceeding at best; but there is no 
resource: and now, when you have 
got a liking to a young lady who is 
as rich as a she-Croesus, and so gilded 
the pill as bright as a lord mayor^a 
coach, what the devil have you to do 
with scruplesi " 

Clifford made no answer, and there 
was a long pause; perhaps he would not 
have spoken so frankly as he had done, 
if the wine had not opened his hearL 

" How proud," renewed Tomlinson, 
'' the good old matron at Thames 
Court will be if you marry a lady! 
You have not seen her lately 1" 

" Not for years," answered our hero. 
'' Poor old soul 1 I believe that she 
is well in health, and I take care that 
she should not be poor in pocket" 

" But why not visit herl Perhaps^ 
like all great men, especially of a 
liberal turn of mind, you are ashamed 
of old friends, ehl" 



126 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



" My good fellow, is that like me ? 
Why, you know the beaux of our set 
look askant on me for not keeping np 
my dignity, robbing only in company 
with well-dressed gentlemen, and 
swindling under the name of a lord's 
nephew; no, my reasons are these : — 
first, yoa must know, that the old 
dame had set her heart on my turning 
out an honest man." 

"And so you have!" interrupted 
Augustus; "honest to your party 
what more would you have from 
either prig or politician]" 

" I beliere," continued Clifford, not 
heeding the interroption, "that my 
poor mother, before she died, desired 
that I might be reared honestly; 
and, strange as it may seem to you. 
Dame Lobkins is a conscientious 
woman in her own way — ^it is not her 
fault if I have turned out as I haye 
done. Kow I know well that it would 
grieve her to the quick to see me 
what I am. Secondly, my friend, 
onder my new names, various as they 
are, — Jackson and Howard, Bussell 
and Pigwiggin, Villiers and Gbtobed, 
Cavendish and Solomons, — ^you may 
well suppose that the good persons in 
the neighbourhood of Thames Court 
have no suspicion that the adventurous 
and accomplished ruffler, at present 
captain of this district, under the new 
appellation of Lovett, is in reality no 
other than the obscure and surname- 
less Paul of the Mug. Now you and 
I, Augustus, have read human nature, 
though in the bladb letter; and I 
know well that were I to make my 
appearance in Thames Court, and 
were the old lady— (as she certainly 
would, not from unkindness, but in- 
sobriety, not that she loves me less, 
but heavy wet more) — ^to divulge the 
secret of that appearance — " 

" You know well," interrupted the 
vivacious Tomlinson, "that the iden- 
tity of your former meanness with 
your present greatness would be easily 
traced; the envy and jealousy of 



your early friends aroused ; a hint of 
your .whereabout and your aliases 
given to the police, and yourself 
grabbed, with a slight possibility of a 
hempen consummation." 

" You* conceive me exactly!" an- 
swered Clifibrd: "the het is, that I 
have observed in nine eases out d 
ten our bravest fellows have been 
taken off by the treacheiy of some 
early sweetheart or the envy of some 
boyish friend. My destiny is not 
yet fixed; I am worthy of better 
things than a ride in the cart with a 
nosegay. in my hand; and though I 
care not much about deatii in itself, 
I am resolved, if possible, not to die a 
highwayman : hence my caution, and 
that prudential care for seereey and 
safe asylums, which men, less wise 
than you, have so often thought an 
unnatural contrast to my conduct on 
the road." 

"Pools!" said the philosophical 
Tomlinson ; " what has the braveiy of 
a warrior to do witii his insuring his 
house from fire t" 

"However," said Clifibrd, *I send 
my good nurse a fine gift every now 
and then to assure her of my safety ; 
and thus, notwithstanding my ab* 
sence, I shew my afiection by my 
presents /—excuse a pun." 

" And have you never been de- 
tected by any of your quondam asso- 
ciates 1" 

" Never !-^remember in what a 
much more elevated sphere of life I 
have been thrown; and who could 
recognise the scamp Paul with a fris* 
tian jacket in gentleman Paul with a 
laced waistcoat f Besides, I have 
diligently avoided eveiy place where 
I was likely to encounter those who 
saw me in childhood. You know 
how little I frequent Hash houses, and 
how ficrupulous I am in admitting 
new confederates into our band ; you 
and Pepper are the only two of my 
associates — (save my protigS, as you 
express it, who never deserts the cave) 



PAITL CUFPORD. 



W 



--that poBseBB a knowMge of my 
idmtiiy with the lost Faul; a&dasyv 
hare both tdken that cb«ad oath to 
silence, which to diaobey, nntO, in- 
deed, I be In the gaol or on the 
gibbet, iB afanost to be aBBtadnated, I 
consider my seoret is little likely to 
be broken, sare with my own eonsent" 

^Trae," said AaguBtoBy nodding; 
''one more glass, ioA to bed, Mr. 
Chainnan." 

" I pledge you, my friend ; odr last 
glass shall be philaathn^^lly 
quaffed ;— ' All fools, and may th«r 
mon^ soon be partadl " 



''All fools!" cried Tomlinson, fill- 
ing a bumper; "but I quarrel with 
Uie wisdom of your toast ; — ^may 
fools be rich, and rogues will never be 
poor ! I would make a better liveli- 
hood of a rich fool than a landed 
estate.* 

So aa^g, the contempIatiTe and 
e?eiHngacions Tomlinson tossed off 
his bumper; and the pair, haying 
kindly rolled by pedal applications 
tiie body of Long Ked into a safe and 
quiet comer of tiie room, mounted 
the stairs, ann-in arm, in search of 
somnambuUir aee(mmiodatiQnB. 



CHAPTBR Xm. 

"'Thai oontrast of fhe hurdened ami mature, 
Hm oym brow brasding o'«r thepnjeot daide, 
With the dear loving heart, and ipirit pore 
Of /Quth— I lof»— yet, hating, love to mark J ** 



Oh the forenoon (tf the day after 
the ball, the carriage of WiHiam 
Brandon, packed and prepaMd, waa 
at the door of bis abode at Bath ; 
meanwhile, the lawyer was eloseted 
with his brother. " My dear Joseph," 
said the barristflr, " I do not leaye 
you without being -foUy sensible of 
your kindness eyineed to me, both in 
coming hither, contrary to your 
habits, and accompanying me every 
where, despite of your tastes." 

'• Mention it not, my dear WHliam," 
nid the kind-hearted squire, ^for 
your delightful society is to me the 
most agreeable — (and that's what I 
can say of veiy few people like you ; 
fbfr, for my own part, I generally find 
the deyerest men the moat umpleaaaiKt) 
— m the toorld f And I think lawyers 
in particular— (yery different, indeed, 
from your tr^ you are !)-'^perfecUy 
intolemble ! " 

" I haye now," sud Brandon, who 
with his usual neryous quickness of 



H. FZJBVBXR. 

action was widking with rapid strides 
to and fro Ihe apartment, and scarcely 
noted his brother's compliment — " I 
haye now another &your to request of 
you. — Consider this house and these 
senrants yours, for the next month or 
two at least. Don't interrupt me — ^it 
is no compliment — I speak for our 
fiunily benefit." And then seating 
himself next to his brother^s arm- 
chair, for a fit of the gout made the 
squire a close prisoner, Brandon un- 
folded to his brother his cherished 
sdheme of marrying Lucy to Lord 
Maoleyerer. Notwithstanding the 
constancy of the earl's attentions to 
the heiress, the honest squire had 
neyer dreamt of thdr palpable object ; 
and he was oyerpowered with sur- 
prise when he heurd the lawyer's 
expectations. 

" But> my dear brother," he began, 
" so great a match for my Lucy, the 
Lord-Lieutenant of the Coun ** 

"And wbatof that?'* cried Brandon 



m 



TAVh CUFFOBD. 



proudly, and interraptinghifl brother; 
" is not the race of Brandon^ -vrhich 
has matched its scions with royalty, 
ftr nobler than that of the npstart 
gtock of Maolevererl — What is there 
presumptuous in the hope that the 
descendant of the Eaiis of Suffolk 
■hoald regild a fSuled name iriUi some 
of the precious dust of the quondam 
ailrersmiths of London 1 — Besides," 
lie continued, after a pause, " Lucy 
will be rich— veiy rich— and before 
two years my rank may possibly be 
of the same order as Mauleyerer's ! " 

The squire stared; and Brandon, 
not giving him time to answer, re- 
sumed. — It is needless to detail the 
conversation; suffice it to say, that 
the artful barrister did not leave his 
brother till he had gamed his point — 
till Joseph Brandon had promised to 
remain at Bath in possession of the 
house and establishment of his bro- 
ther; to throw no impediment on 
the suit of Mauleverer ; to cultivate 
society as before; and, above all, not 
to alarm Lucy, who evidently did not 
yet favour Mauleverer exclusively, by 
hinting to her the hopes and expecta- 
tions of her uncle and fitther. Bran- 
don, now taking leave of his brother, 
mounted to the drawing-room in 
search of Lucy. He found her leaning 
over the gilt cage of one of her feathered 
fikvourites, and speaking to the little 
inmate in that pretty and playful 
language in which all thoughts, inno- 
oent, yet fond, should be clothed. So 
beautiful did Lucy seem, as she was 
thus engaged in her girlish and caress- 
ing employment, and so utterly unlike 
one meet to be the instrument of 
ambitious designs, and the sacrifice 
of worldly calculations, that Brandon* 
paused, suddenly smitten at heart, as 
he beheld her : he was not, however, 
alow in recovering himself; he ap- 
proached. "Happy he," said the man 
of the world, " for whom caresses and 
words like these are reserved ! " 

Lucy turned. " It is ill 1 " she said. 



pointing to the bird, which sat witk 
its feathers stiff and erect, mute and 
heedless even of that voice which was 
as musical as ita own. 

" Poor prisoner 1 " said Brandon; 
"even gilt cages and sweet tones 
cannot compensate to thee for the 
loss of the air and the wild woods !" 

*' But>" said Lu<gr, anxiously, " it 
is not confinement which makes it 
ill 1 If you think so, I will release it 
instantly." 

"How long have you had itl" 
asked Brandon. 

" For three years I " said Lucy. 

" And is it your chief &vourite 1 " 

" Yes; it does not sing so prettily 
as the other — but it is far more sen- 
sible, and so affectionate." 

" Can you release it then V asked 
Brandon, smiling. " Would it not be 
better to see it die in your custody, 
than to let it live and to see it no 
more?" 

" Oh, no, no I " said Lucy, eagerly ; . 
"when I love any one— any thing— I 
wish that to be happy, not me ! " 

As she said this, she took the bird 
from the cage ; and bearing it to the 
open window, kissed it, and held it on 
her hand in the air. The poor bird 
turned a languid and sickly eye around 
it, as if the sight of the crowded houses 
and busy streets presented nothing 
familUr or inviting; and it wiw not 
till Lucy, with a tender courage, shook 
it gently from her, that it availed itself 
of the proffered liberty. It flew first 
to an opposite balcony ; and then reco- 
vering from a short, and, as it were, 
surprised pause, took a brief circuit 
above the houses; and after disap- 
pearing for a few minutes, flew back, 
circled the window, and re-entering, 
settied once more on the fair form 
of its mistress and nestied into her • 
bosom. 

Lu<?y covered it with kisses. " You 
fiee it will not leave me !" said she. 

" Who can 1 " said the uncle, waimly, 
charmed for the moment fsaiv^ Avery 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



12d 



thovglity but that of kindness for the 
young and soft creature before him — 
" Who can," he repeated with a sigh, 
** but an old and withered ascetic like 
myself 1 I must leave you indeed ; 
see, my carriage is at the door ! Will 
my beautiful niece, among the gueties 
that surround her, condescend now 
and then to remember the crabbed 
lawyer, and assure him by a line of 
her happiness and health] Though 
I rarely write any notes but those 
upon cases, you, at least, may be sure 
of an answer. And tell me, Lucy, if 
there be in all this city one so foolish 
as to think that these idle gems, use- 
ful only as a vent for my pride in 
you, can add a single charm to a 
beauty above all ornament T' 

So saying, Brandon produced a 
leathern case ; and touching a spring, 
the imperial flash of diamonds, which 
would have made glad many a patri- 
cian heart, broke dazzlingly on Lucy's 
eyes. 

''No thanks, Lucy," said Brandon, 
in answer to his niece's disclaiming 
and shrinking gratitude; ''I do 
honour to myself, not you ; and now 
bless you, my dear girl. Farewell ! 
Should any occasion present itself in 
which you require an immediate ad- 
viser, at once kind and wise, I beseech 
you, my dearest Lucy, as a parting 
request, to have no scruples in consult- 
ing Lord Mauleverer. Besides his 
friendship for me, he is much inte- 
rested in you, and you may consult 
him with the more safety and assur- 
ance ; because (and the lawyer smiled) 
he is perhaps the only man in the 
world whom my Lucy could not make 
in love with her. His gallantry may 
appear adulation, but it is never akin 
to love. Promise me, that you will 
not hesitate in this 1 " 

Lucy gave the promise readily, and 
Brandon continued in a careless tone 
— " I hear that you danced last night 
with a young gentleman whom no 
one knew^ and whose companions 

No. 29. 



bore a very strange appearance. In a 
pkce like Bath, society is too mixed 
not to render the greatest caution in 
forming acquaintances absolutely ne> 
cessary. You must pardon me, my 
dearest niece, if I remark that a 
young lady owes it not only to her- 
self, but to .her relations, to observe 
the most rigid circumspection of con- 
duct. This is a wicked world, and 
the peach-like bloom of character la 
easily rubbed away. In these points 
Mauleverer can be of great use to you. 
His knowledge of character — ^his pene- 
tration into men — and his tact in 
manners— are unerring. Pray, be 
guided by him : whomsoever he warns 
you against, you may be sure is un- 
worthy of your acquaintance. Qod 
bless you ! you will write to me often 
and frankly, dear Lucy; tcU me all that 
happens to you — all that interests, 
nay, all that displeases." 

Brandon then, who had seemingly 
disregarded the blushes with which, 
during his speech, Lucy's cheeks had 
been spread, folded his niece in his 
arms, and hurried, as if to hide his 
feelings, into his carriage. When the 
horses had turned the street, he 
directed the postilions to stop at Lord 
Hauleverer's. " Now," said he to 
himself, '' if I can get this clever cox- 
comb to second my schemes, and play 
according to my game, and not ac- 
cording to his own vanity, I shall have 
a knight of the garter for my nephew- 
in-Iaw I " 

Meanwhile Lucy, all in tears, for 
she loved her uncle greatly, ran down 
to the squire to show him Brandon's 
magnificent present 

" Ah ! " said the squire, with a sigh, 
"few men were bom with more good, 
generous, and great qualities— (pity 
only that his chief desire was to get 
on in the world ; for my part, I think 
no motive makes grealer and mort 
cold-hearted rogues )— t^n my bro- 
ther WtOiam I ** 



180 



PAUL dJFFOED. 



CHAPTER AVUL 

«« Wby aid die lov« him r-^Tnriowi fMil 1M stm I 
b hanan love ttie growth offhiuBaD wfll ? 
To htBthmmii^ be gmtLm&m I "— Lobd Biwar. 



" ht- time weebi from the tune of 
hk uriYBl, Captain Clifford was the 
most admired man in Bath. Itistrae^ 
the gentlemen, who have a quicker 
tact as to the respectability of their 
own sex than women, might have 
looked a little shy upon him, had he 
not himself especially shunned ap- 
pearing intnuiye, and indeed rather 
aroided the society of men thanconrted 
it; so that after he had fought a dnel 
with a baronet (the son <^ a shoe- 
maker), who called him one Clifford; 
and had exhibited a flea-bitten hone, 
aDowed to be the finest in Bath, he 
rose inaennbly into a certain degree 
of respect with the one sex as well as 
popularity with the other. But what 
always attracted and kept alive sus- 
picion, was his intimacy with so pecu- 
liar and dashing a gentleman as Mr. 
Sdwaid Pepper. People could get 
oyer a certain frankness in Clifford's 
address, but the most lenient were 
astounded by the swagger of Long 
Ned. Clifford, howerer, not insen- 
sible to the ridicule attached to his 
acquaintances, soon managed to pur- 
sue his occupations alone; nay, he 
took a lodging to himself, and left 
Long. 19'ed and Augustus Tomlinson 
(the latter to operate as a check on 
the former) to the quiet enjoyment 
of the hairdresser's apartments. He 
himself attended all public gaieties ; 
and his mien, and the appearance of 
wealth which he maintained, procured 
him access into several private circles, 
which pretended to be exclusive : as if 
people who had daughters ever could 
be exclusive! Many were the kind 



looks, nor few the inviting letters, 
which he received; and if his sole 
object had been to many aa heirese^ 
he would have found no difficulty m 
attaining it. But he devoted hiinself 
entirely to Lacy Brandon ; and to win 
one glance from her, he would have 
renounced all the heiresses in the 
kingdom. Most fortunately for him, 
Manleverer, whose health, was easily 
deranged, had fidlen ill the very day 
William Brandon left Bath; and his 
lordship was thus rendered unable to 
watch the movements of Lucy, and 
undermine, or totally prevent, the 
success of her lover. Miss Bnmdon, 
indeed, had at first, melted by the 
kindness of her undo, and struck with 
the sense of his admonition (for she 
was no self-willed young lady, who 
was determined to be in love), received 
Captain Clifford's advances with a 
coldness which, from her manner the 
first evening they had met at Bath, 
occasioned him no less surprise than 
mortification. He retreated, and re- 
coiled on the squire, who, patient and 
bold, as usual, was sequestered in his 
favourite comer. By accident, Clif- 
ford trod on the squire's gouty digital; 
and in apologising for the offence, was 
BO struck by the old gentleman's good 
nature and peculiarity of expressing 
himself, that without knowing who 
he was,s he entered into conversation 
with him. There was an off-hand sort 
of liveliness and candour, not to say 
wit, about Clifford, whidL always had 
a charm for the elderly, who generally 
like frankness above all the cardinal 
virtues; the squire was exceedingly 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



181 



pleflMd iMl ]i5ift» T!i« acqnainta&oe, 
<»ce begun, iTBB naturally continued 
ivi^oat diffiealty when €Ii£ford ascer- 
tained ivho ms his new friend; and 
aest morning*, meeting in the pump- 
room, the sqnh<& aaked Clifford to 
dinner. Th& eniv^e to the honse thus 
gained, the rest was easy. Long before 
MttiileTerer reeovered his health, the 
mnehief effitotod by his rival was 
«hno8t beyond redress ; and the heart 
of the pure, the simpW, tiie aifection- 
ste Lti<^ Brandon, was more than half 
lost to the lawless and Tagrant cava- 
lier who offioiatoB as the hero of this 
«de. 

One moming^, CBfibfd and Augnstus 
Atvolled OBttogettiep. " Let us," said 
the latter, who* waa in a melaneholy 
mood, '* leave the boay streets, and 
indulge in a phiiosopMcal eonversar 
tion on the nature of man, while we 
aw enjoying a little fresh air in the 
«oantry.'' Clifford assented to the 
proposal, and the pair slowly saont- 
•exed! up one of the hilia that surround 
the city of Bladud. 

" Theie are certain moments,** said 
Tomlinaon, loohing* pensively down at 
hialteneyniere gaiter% ^whenweare 
l&e the fox in the nursery rhyme, 
^ 1%ie fox had a wouDd> he could not 
wH where '-^ire ftel extremely un- 
hap^, and we cannot tell why ! — a 
dal^ and sad melancholy grows over 
w^^we ahun tiie face of man — ^we 
map oorselvea in ouv thoughts tike 
silkworms — ^we mutter &0-ends of 
dismal 8ong»«"-tean eome into our 
eye»— we reeali aB the misfortunes 
that have ever happened to US' 
atoep in our gaity and bviy our hands 
in our breeches-pecketa'— we say 'what 
la lilef— a stone to be shied into a 
besMpond t' We pine for some con- 
genial heairtr— and have an itching 
desire to talk prodigiously about ou^ 
eelves : all offieT subjects seem weaiy, 
stale, and unprofitable — ^we ftel as if 
a fly eonld knock us down, and are 
In a humour to W in love, and make 



a very sad piece of business of it. Yet 
with all this weakness we have, at these 
moments, a finer opinion of ourselves 
than we ever had' before. We call 
our megrims the melancholy of a 
sublime sou^^-the yearnings of an 
indigestion we denominate yearmngs 
after immortality — nay, sometimes ' a 
proof of the nature of the soul ! ' May 
I find some Mographer who under- 
stands such sensations well, and may 
he style those melting emotions the 
ofl^pring of the poetical character,* 
which, in reality, are the of&pring of 

a mutton-chop ! " 

"You jest pleasantly enough on 
your low spirits," said Clifford ; " but 
I have a cause for mine/' 

"What thenT' cried TbmUnson. 
"So much the easier is it to cure 
them. The mind can cure the evils 
that spring./hwii the mind ; it is only 
a fool, and a quack, and a driveller, 
when it professes to heal the evils that 
spring from the body : — my blue 
devils spring from the body — conse- 
quently, my mind, which, as you 
know, is a particuhirly wise mind, 
wresl^s not i^iainst them. Tell me 
frankly," renewed Augustus, after a 
pause, " do you ever repent % Do you 
ever think, if you had been a shop- 
boy with a wliite apron about your 
middle, that you would have been a 
happier and a better member of 
society than you now are ? '* 



* Vide MboTA's Lify of Biiron. Jn which 
it is satisfactorily shown that, if a man fast 
forty-eight hours, then eat three lobsters, 
and drink Heaven knows how many bottles 
of olaret— if , when ha wake the next mom« 
ing, he sees himself abused as a demon by 
half the periodicals of the country— if, 
in a word, he be broken in his health, 
irregular in his habits, unfortunate in his 
affairs, unhappy ia his home— and if then 
be should bs se extremely eceentrio aa to be 
low-spirited and misanthropical, the low 
spirits and the misanthropy are by no means 
to be attribttted to the above agreeable cir- 
cumstances, but— God wot^to the *' poetical 
character 1 " 
x2 



182 



PAITL CLIFPOBD. 



"Ecpent!" teid Clifford, fiercely; 
and his answer opened more of his 
secret heart, its motives, its reason- 
ings, and its peculiarities, than were 
often discernible. " Bepent — ^that is 
the idlest word in our language. No, 
— ^the moment I repent, that moment 
I reform 1 Never can it seem to me 
an atonement for crime merely to 
rogret it-— my mind would lead me 
not to regret, but to repair ! — ^Repent 1 
— no, not yet. The older I grow, the 
more I see of men and of the callings 
of social life— the more I, an open 
knare, sicken at the glossed and 
corert dishonesties around. I ac- 
knowledge no allegiance to society. 
Prom my birth to this hour, I have 
received no single fiivour from its 
customs or its laws; — openly I war 
against it, and patiently will I meet 
its revenge. This may be crime ; but 
it looks light in my eyes when I gaze 
around, and survey on all sides the 
masked traitors who acknowledge 
large debts to society, — ^who profess 
to obey its laws — adore its institu- 
tions—and, above all— oh, how right- 
eously !— attack all those who attack 
it, and who yet lie, and cheat, and 
defraud, and peculate— publicly reap- 
ing all tiie comforts, privately filching 
all the profits. Bepent 1— of whatl 
I come into the world friendless and 
poor— I find a body of laws hostile to 
the friendless and the poor 1 ^ those 
laws hostile to me, then, I acknow- 
ledge hostility in my turn. Between 
us are the conditions of war. Let 
them expose a weakness — I Insist on 
my right to seize the advantage : let 
tiiem defeat me, and I allow their 
right to destroy." ♦ 

''Passion," said Augustus coolly, 
''is the usual enemy of reason — in 
your case it is the friend ! " 

The pair had now gained the sum- 



* The author need not, he hopes, observe, 
that these sentiments are Mr. Paul Clifford's 
^not his. 



mit of a hill which commanded a view 
of the city below. Here Augustas, 
who was a little short-winded, paused 
to recover breath. As soon as he had 
done so, he pointed with his fore- 
finger to the scene beneath, and said 
enthusiastically — '* What a subject for 
contemplation 1 " 

Clifford was about to reply, when 
suddenly the sound of laughter and 
Yoices was heard behind — "Let ua 
fly ! " cried Augustus ; " on this day 
of spleen man delights me not— nor 
woman either." 

"Stayl" said Clifford, in a trem- 
bling accent ; for among those voices 
he recognised one which had already 
acquired over him an irresistible and 
bewitching power. Augustus sighed, 
and reluctantly remained motionless. 
Presently a winding in the road 
brought into view a party of pleasure, 
some on foot, some on horseback, 
others in the little rehicles which 
even at that day haunted watering 
places, and called themselves " Plies" 
or" Swallows." 

But among the gay procession 
Clifford had only eyes for one f 
Walking with that elastic step which 
so rarely survives the first epoch of 
youth, by the side of the heavy chair 
in wMch her father was drawn, the 
fkir beauty of Lucy Brandon threw, 
at least in the eyes of her lover, a 
magic and a lustre over the whole 
group. He stood for a moment, 
stilling the heart that leaped at her 
bright looks and the gladness of her 
innocent laugh ; and tiien recovering 
himself he walked slowly, and with a 
certain consciousness of the effect of 
his own singularly handsome person, 
towards the party. The good squire 
received him with his usual kindness, 
and infoimed him, according to that 
lucidua ordo which he so especially 
favoured, of the whole particulars of 
their excursion. There was some- 
thing worthy of an artist's sketch in 
the scene at that moment — ^the old 



Yiei . 

lused j 

shad ' 

fore- ' 

said I 

ctfor i 



f hen T: 

and > 

it u ' 

-nor . 

,rem- j 

oiccs • 

«ady ' 
isnd 

fhed, • 

Jess. ; 

road . 
sure, 
ack, • 



ring 
lies" 



SIOD 

ne? 
lich 
bof 
bair 
the 
«w, 
•, » 
lole 
>nt, 
ler 
ler 

la 
of 

ii« 

iiy 

of 
le- 
iii 
Id 




■^ / 



Rud Clifford. pa<ie:3S 



uud-ni _ Oui-pinaji «.- H£iil, 180', Strand 



PAUL CLIFFOED. 



183 



Bquire in liis chaur, with his benevo- 
lent face turned towards ClifTord^ and 
his hands resting on his cane — Clif- 
ford himself bowing down his stately 
head to hear the details of the &ther ; 
— ^the beautiful daughter on the other 
side of the chair, her laugh suddenly 
stilled^ her gait insensibly more com- 
posed, and blush chasiug blush over 
ihe smooth and peach-like loyeliness 
of her cheek ;— the party, of all sizes, 
ages, and attire, affording ample 
scope for the caricaturist; and the 
pensive figure of Augustus Tomlinson 
(who, by Uie by, was exceedingly like 
Liston) standing apart from the rest, 
on the brow of tiie hill where Clifford 
had left him, and moralising on the 
motley procession, with one hand hid 
in his waistcoat, and the other caress- 
ing his chin, wMch siowiy aud pendu- 
lously with the rest of his head 
moved up and down. 

As the party approached the brow 
of the hill, the view of the city below 
was so striking, that there was a 
geneial pause for the purpose of sur- 
vey. One young lady, in particular, 
drew forth her pencil, and began 
Bketching, while her mamma looked 
complacently on, and abstractedly 
devoured a sandwich. It was at this 
time, in the general pause, that Clif- 
ford and Lucy found themselves — 
Heaven knows how ! — next to each 
other, and at a sufficient distance 
from the squire and the rest of the 
party to feel, in some measure, alone. 
There was a silence in both which 
neither dared to break ; when Lucy, 
after looking at and toying with a 
-flower that she had brought from the 
place which the party had been to 
see, accidently dropped it ; and Clif- 
ford and herself stooping at the same 
moment to recover it, their hands 
met. Involuntarily, Clifford detained 
the soft fingers in his own ; his eyes, 
that encountered hers, so spell-bound 
and arrested them that for once they 
did not sink beneath his gaze ; his 



lips moved, but many and vehement 
emotions so suffocated his voice that 
no sound escaped them. But all the 
heart was in the eyes of each ; that 
moment fixed their destinies. Hence- 
forth there was an era fix>m which 
they dated a new existence ; a nucleus 
around which their thoughts, their 
remembrances, and their passions, 
clung. The great gulf was passed ; 
they stood on the same shore; and 
felt, that though still apart and dis- 
united, on that shore was no living 
creature but themselves I Meanwhile, 
Augustus Tomlinson, on finding him- 
self surrounded by persons eager to 
gaze and to listen, broke from his 
moodiness and reserve. Looking full 
at his next neighbour, and flourishing 
his right hand in the air, till he suf- 
fered it to rest in the direction of the 
houses and chimneys below, he re- 
peated that moral exclamation which 
had been wasted on Clifford, with a 
more solemn and a less, passionate 
gravity than before— 

" What a subject, ma'am, for con- 
templation 1 ** 

" Very sensibly said, indeed, sir,* 
said the lady addressed, who was 
rather of a serious turn. 

" I never," resumed Augustus in a 
louder key, and looking round for 
auditors, — " I never see a great town 
from the top of a hill, without thinking 
of an apothecary's shop 1 " 

" Lord, sir 1 " said the lady. Tom- 
linson's end was gained : — struck 
with the quaintness of the notion, a 
little crowd gathered instantly around 
him, to hear it further developed. 

" Of an apotl^ecary's shop, ma'am !" 
repeated Tomlinson. " There lie your 
simples, and your purges, and your 
cordials, and your poisons ; all things 
to heal, and to strengthen, and to 
destroy. There are drugs enough in 
that collection to save ^-ou, to cure 
you all ; but none of you know how 
to use them, nor what medicines to 
ask for, nor what portions to take; 



lU 



PAUL CLIFPOBa 



•0 thfti the greater part of 70a swallov 
a wrong doae, and die of the lemedy l" 
' "Bat if the town be the ^othe- 
eaiy'B ahop, what, in the plan of your 
idea^ staiidB for the apothecaiyr 
asked an old gentleman, who per- 
ceived at what Tomlinaon was driviog. 
"The apothecaiy. Biz," answered 
AugDBtos, stealing his notion from 
Cliffofd, and sin^qg his Toioe^ lest 
the tme proprietor should overhear 
him — Clifford was otherwise employed 
—".The apothecaiy, siiv is the LAW ! 
It is the law that Bftaads behind the 
oounter, and diq>enses to eaeh man 
the dose he shonld take. To the 
poor, it gives bad drqgs gratcdtonsly ; 
to the rich, pills to stimulate ^ 
appetite : to the latter, premiums for 
luxuiy; to the former, only ^eedy 
refuges from life 1 Alasl either year 
apo&ecaiy is bat an jgnocant quack, 
or his science itself is but in its 
cradle. He bfamders as much as you 
would do if left to your own selection. 
Those who have veeoone to him 
seldom speak gratefully of his skill. 
He relieyes you, it is true— but of 
your money, not your malady; and 
the only brsach of his profoadon -in 
which he is an ad^t^ is that which 
enables him to bleed youl— ^ Man- 
kind!" continued Augostos, "what 
noble creatures you ought to be! You 
have keys to aU sciences, all art% all 
mysteries, but one ! You hare not a 
notion how you ou^^t to be governed ! 
— 70U cannot frame a tolorable l«w 
for the life and soul of you:! You 
make yonnelveB as uncomfortable as 
you can 1^^ all sorts of galling and 
vefxatious institutions, and you throw 
the blame apon 'ikte.' You lay 
down rules it is impossible to course- 
bend, much less to ob^; and yon 
call each other monster^ because you 
cannot conquer the impossibiliiiy ! 
You invent all sorts of vices, under 
pretence of making laws for preserving 
virtue; and the anomalous artifi- 
cialitioB of oondust youxaelves pro- 



duce, you Bi^ you am bom with ; — 
you make a. machine by the perversest 
art yon can think o^ and yen call it^ 
with a sigh,' Human Katuie.' With 
a host of good dii^ositions stmggling^ 
at your breasts, you inaist upon libel- 
ling the A]mighl7,and dedioing that 
He meant you to he wicked. Xtff, 
you even caU the man mischievoua 
and seditUnis who begs and imploras 
you to be one jot bett« than yon 
are. — Mankind! yen axe like & 
nosegay bought at Covent Garden. 
The Itowem axe .lovely^ the scent 
di^cious ;— onark that glorious hue ! 
contemplate that buistiiig petal 1-^ 
how'beastifo], how redolent of health,, 
of natoie, of the dewmnd breath «nd 
blessmg of Heaven, jKvejon all! But 
as for the dirty*piBce of string that 
ties yon together, one would think 
you had picked it out of the kennel!"' 

So saying, Tomlinaon turned on 
his heei, brdke^way from the crowd, 
and soleonnly descended the 'hill. 9%fr 
par^ of pleasoie ilow^ followed; 
and Cliffo^ receiving an invitation 
from >the squire to partske of his 
family dinner, walked by the -side of 
Lucy, and £^t 4yi if his einrit wece 
drunk wi& the airs of Sden. 

A brother squin^ iwho, among tho 
gaieties of fiath, was almost as forlorn 
as Joseph Brandon himself, partook 
of the Lord of Wariock's hospitality. 
When ihe thiee.gentlemen adjourned 
io the dnwii^g-room, the two elder 
sat down to a game at bafikgammoB, 
and GlifiSard was left to the undis- 
turbed oqoyment of Lucy's 'conveiaa- 
tion. She was sitting by the window 
wh»i Glxffiird joined her. On thfr 
taUe by her side were scattered book%. 
the duom of which (they were chie^ 
poetry) she had only of late learned 
to discover ; there also were strewtt 
various little mastarpieces of female 
ingenuity, in which the foixy fingeis- 
of Lu^ Brandon were espedally 
formed to exceL The shades of even- 
ing were rapidly darkftni^g over the* 



PA.UL CUPFORD. 



135 



empty streeti ; and ia the sky, which 
iras cloudless and transparently clear, 
the Stan came gradually out one by 
one^ until, 

** As water does a ipaDgiB, lo ikeir stffl iiffht 
Fill'd the TOld, hiaSlow, alrenal air.** 

Beautiful Ereningl (if we, as veil 
as Augustus Tomlinsoa, may indulge 
in an apostrophe) — ^Beautiful Even- 
ing ! Por thee all poets have had a 
song, and surrounded thee with rills, 
and wateiMls, and dews, and flowers, 
and sheep, and bati^ and melancholy, 
and owls; yet we must confess that 
to us, who in this Yezy sentimental 
age are a bustling, worldly, hard- 
minded person, jostUi^ our neighr 
hours, and thinking of the main 
chance; — to us, thou art never so 
charming, as when we meet thee 
walking in thy grey hood, through 
' the emptying streets, and among the 
dying sounds of a city. We love to 
feel the stillness, where all, two hours 
back, was damour. We lore to see the 
dingy abodes, of Trade and Luzuiy, 
those restless patients of earth's con- 
stant Sever, contrasted and canopied 
by a heaven full of purity, and quiet- 
ness, and peace. We love io fill our 
thought with speculations on man* — 
even though the man he the muffin- 
man, — raUier than with inanimate 
objects — ^^hiUs and streams — things 
to dream about, not to meditate on. 
Han is the subject of far nobler con- 
templation, of far more glowing hope, 
of a fiur purer and loftier vein of senti- 
ment, than all the "floods and feUs *' 
in the universe;— and that^ isweet 
Bvening I is one leason why we like 
that the earnest and tender thoughts 
thou excitest within us, should be 
rather surrounded by the labours and 
tokens, of our species, than by sheep, 
and bats, and melancholy, and owls. 
But whether, most blessed Evening ! 
thou delightest us in the country or 
in the town, thou equally dlsposest 
us to make and to feel love 1— 4hou 



art the cause of more marriages, and 
more divorces, than any otl^ time 
in the twenty-four hours. Eyes, that 
wtxe conmion eyes to us before, 
touched by thy enchanting aud magic 
shadows, become inspired, and preach 
to us of heaven. A softness settles 
on features that were harsh to us 
while the sun shone ; a mellow " light 
of love" reposes on the complexion, 
which by day we would have steeped 
'' full &thom five" in a sea of Mrs. 
Qowland^ lotion. — What, then, thon 
modest hypocrite! to those who 
already and deeply love — what, them, 
of danger and of paradise dost ibaa 
bring) 

Silent, and stilling the breath wfai(& 
heaved in both quick and fitluUj, 
Lucy and Gilford sat together. The 
streets were utterly deserted, and the 
loneliness, as thi^ looked below^ 
made them feel the more intensely 
not only the emotions which swelled 
within them, but the undefined and 
electric sympathy which, in uniting 
tliem, divided them from the world. 
The quiet around was broken by a 
diatant straia of rude music ; and as 
it eame nearer, two forms of no poetl: 
cal order grew visible : the one was a 
poor blind man, who was dmwing 
from his flute tones jp. which the 
melancholy beauty of the air oompeiv- 
sated for any defideDcy (the deficienqr 
was but slight) in the execution. A. 
woman much younger than the mn- 
siclan, and mih tomethtng of beautj 
in her countenance, aoeempamed him, 
holding a tatterod hat, and looking 
wistfidly up at the windows of the 
silent street We said two forms*- 
we did the iiyustice of forgetfiilnett 
to another — a rugged and simple 
friend, it Ss true, but one &at both 
minstrel and wife had many and 
moving reasons to love. This was a 
little wiiy terrier, with dark piercing 
eyes, that glanced quickly and aaga- 
oiously in all quarters from beneath 
the Bhaggy covert that surrounded 



isa 



PATJIi ClilFPOBD. 



them ; sloniy the animal moved on- 
irard, palling gently against the string 
by which he was helC and by which 
he guided his master. Once his fide- 
lity was tempted : another dog invited 
him to play ; the poor terrier looked 
anxiously and doubtingly round, and 
then uttering a low growl of denial, 
pursued 

" The no i B c l o M tenonr of his way." 

The little procession stopped be- 
neath the window where Lucy and 
difford sat ; for the quick eye of the 
woman had perceived them, and she 
laid her hand on the blind man's 
ann, and whispered him. He took 
the hint^ and changed his air into one 
of love. Clifford glanced at Lucy — 
her cheek was dyed in blushes. The 
air was over, — another succeeded — 
it was of the same kind ; a third — 
the burthen was still unaltered ; and 
then Clifford threw into the street 
a piece of money, and the dog wagged 
his abridged and dwarfed. tail, and 
darting forward, picked it up In his 
month; and the woman (she had a 
kind ftoe !) patted the officious friend, 
pven before she thanked the donor, 
and then she dropped the money 
with a cheering word or two into the 
blind man's ^pocket, and the three 
wanderers moved slowly on. Presently 
they came to a place where the street 
had been mended, and the stones lay 
scattered about. Here the woman 
no longer trusted to the dog^s guid- 
ance, but anxiously hastened to the 
musician, and led him with evident 
tenderness and minute watchfulness 
over the rugged way. When they 
had passed the danger, the man 
stopped ; and before he released the 
hand which had guided him, he 
pressed it gratefully, and then both 
the husband and the wife stooped down 
and caressed the dog. This little 
scene — one of those rough copies of 
the loveliness of human affections, of 
which so many are scattered about 



the highways of the world — both the 
lovers had involuntarily watched ; and 
now as they withdrew their eyes — 
those eyes settled on each other-^ 
Lucy's swam in tears. 

'< To be loved and tended by the 
one I love," said Clifford, in a low 
voice, " I would walk blind and bare- 
foot over the whole earth I " 

Lucy sighed very gently; and 
placing her pretty hands (the one 
clasped over the other) upon her 
knee, looked down wistfully on them, 
but made no answer. Clifford drew 
his chair nearer, and gazed on her as 
she sat ; the long dark eyelash droop- 
ing over her eyes, and contrasting 
the ivory lids; her delicate profile 
half turned from him, and borrowing 
a more touching beauty from the soft 
light that dwelt upon it; and her 
full yet still scarcely developed bosom, 
heaving at thoughts which she did 
not analyse, but was content to feel 
at once vague and delicious: he 
gazed and his lips trembled— he 
longed to speak — he longed to say 
but those words which convey what 
volumes have endeavoured to express, 
and have only weakened by detail — 
"/ tow." How he resisted the 
yearnings of his hearty we know not 
— ^but he did resist; and Lucy, after 
a confused and embarrassed pause, 
took up one of the poems on the 
table, and asked him some questions 
about a particuhur passage in an old 
balUid which he had once pointed to 
her notice. The passage related to a 
border chief, one of the Armstrongs 
of old, who, having been seized by the 
English and condemned to death, 
vented his last feelings in a passionate 
address to his own home— his rude 
tower — and his newly wedded bride. 
" Do you believe," said Lucy, as their 
conversation began to flow, "that one 
so lawless and eager for bloodshed 
and strife, as this robber is described 
to be, could be so capable of soft 
affections 1" 



PAUL CLIFFOBD. 



137 



<'I do," said Clifford; "because he 
was not sensible that he was as cri- 
minal as you esteem him. If a man 
cherish the idea that his actions are 
not eyil, he will retain at his heart all 
its better and gentler sensations as 
much as if he had never sinned. The 
savage murders his enemy, and when 
he returns home is not tiie less de- 
Toted to his friend, or the less anxious 
for his children. To harden and em- 
brute the kindly dispositions, we 
must not only indulge in guilt, but 
feel that we aie guilty. Oh ! many 
that the world load with their oppro- 
brium are capable of acts— nay, have 
committed acts, which in others the 
world would reyerence and adore. 
Would you know whether a man's 
heart be shut to the power of love ; 
ask what he is — not to his foes, but 
to his' friends! Crime, too,'* con- 
tmued Clifford, speaking fiist and 
vehemently, while his eyes flashed 
and the dark blood rushed to his 
cheek — " Crime — what is crime ? 
Men embody their worst prejudices, 
their most evil passions, in a hetero- 
geneous and contradictory code, and 
whatever breaks this code they term 
a crime. When they make no dis- 
tinction in the penalty — that is to 
say, in the estimation — ^awarded both 
to murder and to a petty theft im- 
posed on the weak will by fiunine, we 
ask nothing else to convince us that 
they are ignorant of the very nature 
of guilt, and that they make up in 
ferocity for the want of wisdom." 

Lucy looked in alarm at the ani- 
mated and fiery countenance of the 
speaker. Clifford recovered himself 
after a moment's pause, and rose from 
his seat, with the gay and frank laugh 
which niade one of his peculiar cha- 
racteristics. "There is a singularity 
in politics. Miss Brandon," said he, 
" which I dare say you have often 
observed, viz. that those who are least 
important, are always most noisy; 
and that the chief people who lose 



their temper, are those who have 
nothing to gain in return." 

As Clifford spoke, the doors were 
thrown open, and some visitors to 
Miss Brandon were announced. The 
good squire was stiU immersed in the 
vicissitudes of his game, and the sole 
task of receiving and entertaining 
" the company," as the chambermaids 
have it, fell, as usual, upon Lucy. 
Fortunately for her, Clifford was one 
of those rare persons who possess 
eminently the talents of society. 
There was much in his gay and gal- 
lant temperament, accompanied as it 
was with sentiment and ardour, that 
resembled our beau idkd of those 
chevaliers, ordinarily peculiar to the 
Continent — heroes equally in the 
drawing-room and the field. Observant, 
courteous, witty, and versed in the 
various accomplishments that com- 
bine (that most unfrequent- of all 
unions !) vivacity with grace, he was 
especially formed for that brilliant 
world from which his circumstances 
tended to exclude him. Under dif- 
ferent auspices, he might have been 
—Pooh I We are running into a 
most pointless commonplace; — ^what 
might any man be under auspices 
different from those by which his life 
has been guided? Music soon suc- 
ceeded to conversation, and Clifford's 
voice was of necessity put into requi- 
sition. Miss Brandon had just risen 
from the harpsichord, as he sat down 
to perform hh part ; and she stood by 
him with the rest of the group while 
he sung. Only twice his eye stole to 
that spot which her breath and form 
made sacred to him ; once when he 
began, and once when he concluded 
his song. Perhaps the recollection 
of their conversation inspired him; 
certainly it dwelt upon his mind at 
the moment— threw a richer flush 
over his brow, and infused a more 
meaning and heartfelt softness into 
his tone. 



188 



PAUL CHPPOBD. 



STANZAS. 



•« When 1 1«aiw Ibee, oh ! adcnot the^rarld 
what that heart 

Which adores thee to othera may be ! 
I know that I sin when from thee I depart. 

But my guilt dull not light upon thee I 

My Ufe is a virer which YUaaes a ray 
That hath daign'd to desoend from abaTe ; 

Whatever the hanka that o'ershadow ita 
way. 
It mJiroralbe lifl^t of thy Idtc 

Though the warea may nm high when ihe 
night wind awafcea* 
And hurries the stream to its fall ; 
Though broken and wild be the blBowB K 



. TUnaimagvifUltainblaa-onaaf'' 

While thiB omiBOiiB love httmeaa. 
Clifford a&d Lnoy ms thus findii^ 
fresh food i& ewry intemew and 
everj opportonity, the unfortuiHite 
Maoleverer, firmly peisuiided thai 
hk complunt was a relapBe of Tubal 
he termed the " Warloek dyBpepaia," 
was wa^g dire war wHh the remsiiiB 
of the beef and pudding, whioh he 
tearfully assured hk phyaietans " weie 
lurking in his eonstitution." As 
MaaleYW^r, H^ongh complaisant --« 
like most man of unmistah^able sank 
—to all hia acquainiaaeeSy whatena: 
might be their gradet,— ^peeoassed hnt 
very iew friends intimate enough to 
enter his aiek chamber, and none of 
that few were at Batl^ it will readily 
be j>ereeiTed that he waa in bliiaf^ 
Ignorance of the growing fertmea of 
^ riyal ; and to say the exaet tmth, 
illness, which makes a man's l^oghts 
tomyeiy maeh upon himaelf/banijiied 
many of the most tender ideas uanally 
floating in his mind around the image 
of Lucy Brandon. His pill supeneded 
his paasion; .and he felt that theiie 
are draughts in the world more 
powerful in their effBcts than those in 
the phials of Alcidonia.* He ¥017 



* See Marmontel'a pretty tale of Jm 
Quatret FUifont, 



often thonght^ it is true, howfdeasant 
it would be for Lucy to smooih his 
pillow, and Lncgr to prepare that 
mixture; but then ICauleyerer had 
an esoellent ^M^ who hqped to pb^ 
the part enacted by GU Bhia towards 
the honest lieentiate; and to nurse 
a legacy while h» was musi]^ his 
master. And the eax^ wiho wu tolev- 
ably good-tempered, was forced to 
confess that it would be scHTcely poa- 
Bible £or any one "to know his wi^ 
better than Smoethion." Xhua, 
during his illness, the Mr f oim lof his 
intended bride little troubled .the 
peace of the noble adorer. And ib 
was not tUl he found himself able to 
eat three good dmnen conseeutive]|y, 
with a tolerable appetite, that l£aa- 
leverer recollected that he was vio- 
lently in lore. As soon as this idea 
was fully reinstated in his memoigr, 
and he had been peonitted hy his 
doctor to allow himself ''a little 
cheerful aodety," liaulevererinsolved 
to go to the rooms for an hour or two. 
It may be obsenred thai most great 
personages ha^ aome fiironiite place, 
aome cherished Baise, at which thi^ 
Jtove to throw off their stat^ and to 
I^y the amiable instead of the vgXenr 
did; and Bath atihattim^ ftomita 
gBJety, itaesae, the vaEkty of fiharacter 
to be found in its haunt«t adMl the 
obliging maanar in which such eha- 
xacten eo^osed thamselyei to ridioule^ 
was exactly the plaoe calcutoted to 
please a man like MaukTezer, who 
loved at onee to be admired and to 
satirise. He was therefore an idolised 
person at the city of BhMlnd^ and aa 
he entered the rooms he was sa»- 
rounded by a whole band «f inutatoiB 
and syoephantBy deUghted to find iua 
lordshq) looking so much hitter and 
dedarii^ himself, so conyalcBeflnt. Aa 
soon as theearl had bowed andanuled, 
and shaken handa sufficiently to aua- 
tain his ceputatioo, he sauntmd to- 
wards the dancers in search of Luegr. 
H^ &and her not only eocactly in the 



PAUL' CLIFFORD. 



1S9 



anu 8{K>t in which he had last beheld 
her^ but danoing iwith exactly the 
lame partner who had before provoked 
all the gaUant nobleiDaii'B jcaloiny 
aad wi»Ul Jfiaideverer, though not 
by vny means addicted to prepasing 
hk complimests beforehand, had just 
been conning a delicate speaeii for 
Lii^; but no sooner did .the penon 
of her partner flash on him tihan 4ihe 
whole flftttery loaiifihed at onoe from 
hiarBoellection. HefekhkMelfgrow 
pale; and when Luoy turned, and 
seeing him near, addreeaed him in 
the amdons and soft tone wrhich d&e 
(thought due .to her undef s friend on 
his recovery, ManleTerer beiwtBd, oon- 
iosed and silesit; and tluut green-eyed 
passian^ which wonld have oonvuhied 
ihe mM of a Ime lorer, altering a 
little the comse of its fti]% effeotfoalfy 
difitnrbod ihe fmaamar >of i^e oonrtier. 

•Betreating-to an •ohseuie part of "the 
Tooniy wliere lie nonld see nil without 
•faemg eonc^onons, MautemBrer xacm 
aBiq>loyed himself in watdiing the 
motions and looks ef the young pair, 
fie was nfltnraHy a peDetrating and 
•qniGk observer, and in ifais dnstanoe 
jealoudy sharpened his -talents; he 
«aw eiu>iigjh to oonTiaoe iiim that 
iiaey was afaeadysttadiad to Clifford; 
and being, by that convietloa, folly 
^aensadad that La(7wsss Beoenaiy to 
ills own happiiieBB, he reaolvod to lose 
net « moment in haTHshing Captain 
Gltfotrd £rom&«r piwBnee, ornt least, 
in houriitoting sadi inqutoies into tint 
geoE^ntanJs idsAivfls, vmaik, and xs- 
spectabiUty, as would, he hoped, ;mBh 
deranch 1»iiidimexBbn iwoBBsafy eon- 
seqaflDoe of tiiersseareh. 

^Rnmght with this drtermtnatlfln, 
ManiefeMr aspaicsd .at enoe to the 
icAnat of the aqoiin, and flagagmg 
lilm in oonirenstion, bhiB% asked 
him, ''WbeAedeoae.MiBBBnmdaDa 
was dancing with) " 

The aqnise, n DtOe *0qwd «t thk 
ftrusgiierte, replied by.aiimg euh^nm 
on FodI; and Uxakmnt, afier basav | 



ing it throngheut with the blandest 
smile imaginable, told the squire, very 
p(ditely, that he was sore Hr. Bran- 
don's g9od natore had misled him. 
"Clifford!'' said he, repeating the 
nasBC, — "Clifford ! It is one of those 
names whdch are particularly selected 
by persons nobody knows; finrt^ be- 
cause idle name is good, and, seeondly, 
because it is common. Hy long and 
dear iHends^p with your brother 
makes me feel peculiarly anxious on 
any point lelatiTe to his nieee ; and, 
indeed, my dear William, OTenntiag, 
peiiisqps, my knowledge of the world, 
aad my influsnce in society, — bat not 
my affieetian ior him, — ^besought me 
to assume the liberty of esteeming 
myself a fidend, nay, even a relation 
of yours aotd Miss Brandon's ; so that 
I trust you do not consider my caution 
impertnent." 

The iiattered squire assured him 
that he was partioulariy honoured, so 
far Irom deeming his lordship— (which 
never could be the case with people so 
distinguished as kU lordship wm, 
etpedaBiff f)—4mpaiin&U. 

Lord HaolcTesei;, enooncaged .Iqr 
tins speech, artfully renewed, and sne- 
ceeded, if not in oonTincing the4iquim 
that ibt handsome captain was a 
suspicioas chatacter, at least in per- 
soading him that eommon prndenee 
required that he dionld find out ^- 
actly who the handsome captain was, 
.especially as he was in the habit of 
dining with the squire thrice a-^mao^ 
and dancing with Lucy evety night. 

"iSee," teid Manleyerer, "he ap- 
proaches you new : I will retreat t» 
the ekaar by ithe fireplace, and you 
ahall erosscxamine him — ^I have na 
doubt yen>willidoitwiththc utmoat 
deUoaoy." 

So s^piBg, Manleverer took pos- 
session of a seat whoie he was not 
abaolot^y beyond hearing (slightly 
deaf as he was) of the ODsning ool^ 
kqay, though the position of his seat 
screened him from sight. Haoleverer 



140 



PAXTL CMPPOED. 



was esteemed a man of the most 
punctilious honour in private life, and 
he would not have been seen in the 
act of listening to other people's oon- 
yersation for the world. 

Hemming wiih an air and resettling 
himself as Clifford approached, the 
squire thus skilfully commenced the 
attack : " Ah, ha ! my good Captun 
Cliffbrd, and how do you do ? I saw 
you — (and I am very glad, my friend, 
as every one eUe is, to see yot^'—ai a 
distance. And where have you left 
my daughter V 

"Miss Brandon is dancing with 
lir. Muskwell, sir," answered Clifford. 

"Oh! she isl— Mr. Muskwell— 
humph 1 — Good &mily the Muskwells 
—came from Primrose Hall. Pray, 
Captain, — not that I want to know 
for my own sake, fbr I am a strange, 
odd person, I belicTe, and I am 
thoroughly convinced — (some people 
are censorious, and others, thank 
God, are not I) — of your respectar 
bility, — what &mily do you come 
from) Ton won't think my — ^my 
caution impertinent?" added the 
shrewd old gentleman, borrowing that 
phrase which he thought so friendly 
in the mouth of Lord Mauleverer. 

Clifford coloured for a moment, but 
replied with a quiet archness of look, 
" Family! oh, my dear sir, I come 
from an old family, — a very old family 
indeed." 

" So I always thought ; and in what 
part of the world)" 

" Scotland, sir— all our &mily come 
from Scotland ; viz. all who live long 
do— the rest die young." 

" Ay, particulfur air does agree with 
particulfff constitutions. I, for in- 
stance, could not live in all countries ; 
not — ^youtakeme — ^in the North !" « 

" Pew honest men can live there," 
Mdd Clifford, drily. 

" And," resumed the squire, a little 
embarrassed by the nature of his task, 
and the cool assurance of his young 
fiiend-— 



"And pray, Captain Clifford, what 
regiment do you belong to 1" 

"Regiment)— oh the Bifles!" an- 
swered Clifford. (" Deuce is in me," 
muttered he — "if I can resist a jest, 
though I break my neck over it.'5 

" A very gallant body of men t " said 
the squire. 

" No doubt of that, sir 1" rejoined 
Clifford. 

" And do yon think. Captain Clif- 
ford," renewed the squire, "that it is 
a good corps for getting on )" 

" It is rather a bad one for getting 
off," muttered the Captain, and then 
aloud, "Why, we have not much 
interest at court, sir." 

" Oh ! but then there is a wider 
scope, as my brother the lawyer says 
— and no man knows better— for 
merit. I dare say you have seen many 
a man elevated from the ranks V 

" Nothing more common, sir, than 
such elevation; and so great is the 
virtue of our corps, that I have aUK> 
known not a few willing to transfer 
the honour to their comrades." 

" Ton don't say so !" exclaimed the 
squire, opening his eyes at such dis- 
interested magnanimity. 

" But," said Clifford, who began to 
believe he might carry the equivoque 
too fiir, and who thought, despite of 
his jesting, that it was possible to 
strike out a more agreeable vein of 
conversation — "but» sir, if you re- 
member, you have not yet finished 
that youthful hunting adventure of 
yours, when the hounds lost at Bum- 
ham Copse." - 

" Oh, very true," cried the squire, 
quite forgetting his late suspicions; 
and forthwith he began a story that 
promised to be as long as the chase it 
recorded. So charmed was he when 
he had finished it, with the character 
of the gentleman who had listened to 
it so delightedly, that on r^oining 
Mauleverer, he told the earl, with an 
important air, that he had strictly 
examined the young captain, and that 



PAUL CLIFFOKD. 



HI 



he had fdUy convinced himself of the 
excellence of his tmulj, as well as 
the reditude of his morals. Maule- 
Terer listened with a countenance of 
polite incredulity; he had heard but 
Uttle of the conyersation that had 
taken place between the pair ; but on 
questioning the squire upon sundry 
particulars of Clifford's birth, parent- 
age, and property, he found him 
exactly as ignorant as before. The 
eourtier, however, seeing further ex- 
postulation was in vain, contented 
himself with patting the squire's 
shoulder, and saying, with a myste- 
rious urbanity, " Ah, sir, you are too 
good!" 

With these words he turned on his 
heel, and, not yet despairing, sought 
the daughter. He found Miss Bran- 
don just released from dancing, and, 
with a kind of paternal gallantry, he 
offered his arm to parade the apart- 
ments. After some preliminaiy 
flourish, and reference, for the thou- 
sandth time, to his friendship for 
William Brandon, the earl spoke to 
her about that "fine-looking young 
man, who called himself Captain 
Clifford." 

Unfortunately for Mauleyerer, he 
grew a little too unguarded, as his 
resentment against the interference of 
Clifford warmed with his language, 
and he dropped in his anger one or 
two words of caution, which especially 
offended the delicacy of Miss Brandon. 

"Take care how I encourage, my 
lord I " . said Lucy, with glowing 
cheeks, repeating the words which 
had so afi^nted her, "I really must 
beg you " 

"You mean, dear MiE» Brandon," 
interrupted Mauleverer, squeezing her 
hand with respectful tenderness, "that 
you must beg me to apologise for my 
inadvertent expression. I do most 
sincerely. If I had felt less interest 
in your happiness, believe me, I 
should have been more guarded in 
my language." 



Miss Brandon bowed stiflSy, and the 
courtier saw, with secret rage, that 
the country beauty was not easily 
appeased, even by an apology from 
Lord Mauleverer. " I have seen the 
time," thought he, "when young 
unmarried ladies would have deemed 
an q^fron^ from me an honour ! They 
would have gone into hysterics at an 
apology/" Before he had time to 
make his peace, the squire joined 
them ; and Lucy taking her &ther's 
arm, expressed her wish to return 
home. The squire was delighted at 
the proposition. It would have been 
but ciyll in Mauleverer to offer his 
assistance in those little attentions 
preparatory to female departure from 
balls. He hesitated for a moment — 
" It keeps one so long in those cursed 
thorough draughts," thought he, shi- 
vering. " Besides, it is just possible 
that I may not marry her, and it is no 
good risking a cold (above all, at the 
beginning of winter) for nothing ! " 
Fraught with this prudential policy, 
Mauleverer then resigned Lucy to her 
father, and murmuring in her ear 
that "her displeasure made him the 
most wretched of men," concluded 
his adieu by a bow penitentially 
graceful. 

About five minutes afterwards, he 
himself withdrew. As he was wrap- 
ping his corporeal treasure in bis 
ro^tdaire of sables, previous to im- 
mersing himself in his chair, he had 
the mortification of seeing Lucy, who 
with her father, from some cause or 
other, had been delayed in the hall, 
handed to the carriage by Captain 
Clifford. Had the earl watched more 
narrowly than in the anxious cares 
due to himself he was enabled to do, 
he would, to his consolation, have 
noted that Lucy gave her hand with 
an averted and cool air, and that 
Clifford's expressive features bore 
rather the aspect of mortification than 
triumph. 

He did not, however, see more than 



ws 



PATTL CLIFrOBD. 



the Mrdon; and as he wm honie 
homeward with hur^flamheaoz and 
fbotmen prooeding * him,, and the 
watchfhl Smoothson b;^ the side of 
the little reMcle, he muttered hi» de- 
termination of writing hj the revy 
next post to Brandon, all hia anger 
for Lucy, and all hia jeatousy of her 
evident lover. 

Whfle th]» donghty resolve was 
animating the great son^ of Manle- 
verer, Lney readied her own room, 
bolted the door, and throwing herself 
on her bed, burst into a long and bit- 
ter paroxysm of tears. So unusual 
were such yisitors to her happy and 
buoyant temper, that there was some- 
thing almost alarming in the earnest- 
ness and obstinaey with winch she 
now wept. 

« What ! " sbM she, bitterly, -^have 
r placed my aiSfeotions upon a man of 
nncertun character f and is my infa- 
tuation so clear, that an- aequaontaaee 
dare hint at its imprudence I And 
yet his manner^— his tone! Ifo, no, 
there can be no reason for shame in 
loving him ! " And as she said this, 
her heart smote her for the coldness 
of her manner towards Cliflbrd, on 
his takingleave of her for the evening. 
*' Am I," she thought, weeping yet 
more vehemently than befere — "am 
I so worldly, so base, as to feel altered 
towards hint the moment I hear a 
syQable breathed against his name? 
Should I not, on the eontrary, have 
dung to his image with a greater love, 
if he were attacked by oUiers 1 But 
my fiifther, my dear Mher, and my 
Idnd,. prudent uncle, something is 
due to them ; and they would break 
their hearts if I loved one whom they 
deemed unworthy. Why should I not 
fimmmon courage, and tell him of the 
suspicions respecting him ) One can- 
did word would dispel them. Surely 
it would be but kind in me towards 
him, to g^ve him an opportunity of 
disproving all false and dishonouring 
csonjectures. And why this reserve, 



when so often, by look and haat, il 
not by open avowal, he has deeiased 
that he loves me, and know»— he nrnti 
know^--that he is not uu^iflbrent to 
me 1 Why does he never speak of 
his paients, his relations, his home?" 
And Lucy, as she asked thia quei» 
ti<m, drew from & bosom whose hne* 
and shape might have rivalled hem 
who won Qymon to be w^,* a dnvw- 
ing which she herself had secretly 
made of her lover, and which, though 
inartificially and even rudely done, yet 
had caught the inspiration of memory, 
and breathed the very features and 
air that were stamped already inef- 
faceably upon a heart too holy for so 
sullied anidol. She gaaed upon the por- 
trait as if it could answer her question 
of the original ; and ae she looked, and 
looked, her tears slowly ceased, and her 
innoeent countenanee relapsed gradu- 
ally into its usual andeloquent serenity. 
If ever, perhaps, could Lucy's own por- 
trait have been takon at a more 
favourable moment. The unconscious 
gvaoe of her attitude; her dress 
loosMied; the modest and youthful 
voluptuousness of her beauty ; the 
tender cheek to which the vii:^ 
bleom^ banished fbr aflrhile, was now 
all glowingly returning; the little 
white soft hand on which th«t cheek 
leaned, while the other contained the 
picture upon which her eyes fed ; the 
half anile just conjured to her full, 
red, dewy Kps, and gone the moment 
after, yet again restored ; all made a 
picture of such enchanting loveliness^ 
that we question whether Shakspeare 
himself could have fencied an earthly 
shape more meet to embody the vision 
of a Miranda or a Yiola. The quiet 
and maiden neatness of the apartment 
gave effect to the charm ; and there 
was a poetry even in the snowy ftir- 
niture of the bed, the shutters partly 
unclosed and admitting a glimpse of 



* See Dryden*! poem of Cjfmon and 
Tphigenia. 



PAUL CLIPPOBD. 



143 



the i^Termoon, andtheioiitny lamp 
jnsfe oonteoding usth the purer nj of 
the ikiaB^ and ae thriMrmg^ a mixed 
and softened lig ht a genadthedttmber. 

8he was yet gaaiiig on thednaiPing'^ 
irhen a MiA stvaam of miisifB stole 
through the air heneath her ivindow, 
and it gradoallj Mae till the sound of 
ft gnitar became: cBstinot and dear, 
suiting with, not diatiirbing, the 
moQBiit BtiUnesa of the night The 
gallairtry and ronumoe of a limner 
day, tikoogh at the time of our story 
ntbsiding, were nei quite diap^ed; 
andniglrtly aerenades under the case* 
mnnta of » distingnished beauty- were 
bjno miianwof m^kwinent oocnrrsnoe. 
But Lnoyy aa the musie floated upon 
her ear, Unahed deeper and deeper, 
aa if it had- a deanr senroe to ho* 
heait than erdinaiy gallantry; and 
zaaaing harsaif on one aim inm her 
incomheni position, she leaned fop- 
ward to eateh the aonnd with a greater 
and more unerring certainty. 

AittBc a prelude of some momentSy a 
dear and sweet Toioe accompanied the 
instmment, and the words of the song 
ifbllows:— 



CLIFFORD'S 8ERENADB. 

*TImm !• a world when evwy nlglit 

Mj afirit maaU and ynSka with tliiiie ; 
And hope»-I dare not teU thoe— Uetat 
Lika Stan of Love— that wodd of nilnat 



Hath now* MetliiBki^ a Btraafor grown: 
Ah.Blaei^! that I may feel thou art 
Within one world that ii my own." 

As tbe mnsic died awi^, Lncy sank 
back once more, and ihe drawing 
whidi she hdd was pressed (wit£ 
cheeks glowing, though unseen, at 
the act) to her lips. And though the 
character of her lover was nndeared, 
though she herself had come to no 
distinct resolution even to inform him 
of the romoors against his name, yet 
BO easily restored was her trust in him, 
and so soothing the very thought of 
his Tigiiance and his Ioto, that before 
an hour had passed, her eyes were 
closed in sleep ; the cbawing was laid, 
as a spell against grief, under her 
pillbw; and in her dreams she mur- 
mured At^name, and unconsdous of 
reality and the future, smiled tenderly 
aa she did so 1 



CHAPTEB XIX. 



" OoBHi the plot mdanm I and another fUd 
0£tha warm (doak of mystaiy wrapa ut aroaad. 

* » * » 

• • « • 
And for their loTw? 

Behold the BMl IB on «h«m ! "—Tamwr of TV^wni* 



Wi most not siippoae that Clifford's 
maanw and tone were towards Lucy 
Brandon aacfa aa th^r seemed to others. 
Jjove refinea eveiy roughness; and 
that truth which nurtures teadomesa 
is never barren of graoe» Whatever 
the habita and comrades of Clifford's 
life, he had at heart many good and 
generona qoalilfoa. They were not 
often perceptible ii ia true— first, 



because he was of a gsj and reekless 
turn; secondly, because he was not 
easily afiected by any external dr- 
cumatances ; and thirdly, because be 
had the policy to affect among his 
comrades only such qualities as were 
likdy to give him influence with them. 
Stifl, however, his better genius broke 
out whenever an opportunity presented 
itself. Though no ''Corsair,'' romantic 



144 



PAUL CUFFOSD. 



and mneily in Oaiaiiie ibadov beeom- 
ing more Tui in proportion «a it ie> 
eedet from nibstanee; thovg^ no 
gnndlj-iniigined lie to the fair pro- 
poiiion e of human natnv^ but an 
erring man in a ray promie and 
hom^worid; CKIRirdatffl mingled a 
eotaingcocnMifyandehiTalrie i^iit 
of enteiprise eren with the pnetieea of 
his prafeanon. Althongh the name 
of Lorett^ hj which he was ehicHhf 
known, was one peeofiaiif distin- 
gnished in the annab of the adfcn- 
toxoai^ it had nerer been eonpied 
with mmoniB of emdtj or oatnge; 
and it waa often aawdated with anec- 
dotes of eoonge, eonrtesj, good hn- 
monr, or finbonnee. He waa one 
whom a leal lore waa pecoliaify cal- 
cohited to soften and to redeem. The 
boldnessy the candoor, the nnsdfish- 
ness of his temper, were components 
of nature upon which al&etion inTa- 
liably takes a strong and deep hokL 
Bende% Clifford waa of an eagerand 
as|Hring torn; and the ssme temper 
and aiUlities which had in a Teiyfew 
years rsised him in infloenee and 
popnUritj far abore all the chiralric 
band wiUi whom he waa oonnectod, 
when once inflamed and derated bj 
a higher passiony were likd j to aronse 
his ambition from the lerel of his 
present pnisoiti^ and reform him, ere 
too late, into a nsefol, nay, even an 
honourable member ci sodety. We 
tmst that the reader has already per- 
edTod that^ despite his early drcnm- 
stanoes, his manner and address were 
not sach as to unfit him for a lady's 
lore. The comparatiTe refinement of 
his exterior is easy of explanation, for 
he possessed a natural and inborn 
gentility, a quick turn for observation, 
a ready sense both of the ridiculous 
and the graceful ; and these are mate- 
teriAls which are soon and lightly 
wrought from coarseness into polish. 
He had been thrown, too, among the 
leaders and heroes of his band ; many 
not absolutely low in birth, nor de- 



m hahiL He had 
^riththeBaningtOBBofthed^: 
tkmen who were admired at Ttanfiagh, 
and made ^ leec h es worthy of (Seero 
when th^were enmmoned to triaL 
He had phijed his part in pablie 
plaees; and, aa TomlbiBon was wont 
tomyafierhisclaaBe finhion, «the 
trinmpha aeeomplished in the field 
had been planned in the faaltroom.* 
In shorty he waa one of thoae aeeom- 
plished and d^gmt hi^waymcn of 
iriiom we yet read wonden^ and by 
whom it woold hare been ddightfnl 
to have been robbed: aadtheaptnev 
of intdleet which grew into wit with 
his friendly scrfkened into sentimeni 
with his mistress. There is something, 
too, in beanty (and Clilford's peiBon, 
aa we hare before said, waa poaseased 
of even uncommon attrastions) whidi 
lifts a beggar into nobility; and there 
waa a distinction in his gait and look 
which supplied the air of rank, and 
the tone of courts. Men, indeed, 
skilled like Ifanleverer in the subUe- 
ties of manner, might periiape have 
easily detected in him the want of 
that indescribable esMnee possessed 
only by persons reared in good society; 
bntthatwantbdng shared by so many 
persons of indisputable birth and for> 
tune, conveyed no particular reproach. 
To Lucy, indeed, brought up in sedn- 
don, and seeing 'at Wariodc n<«e 
calculated to refine her taste in the 
fiishion of an air or phrase to a rery 
fiuitidious standard of perfeeticm, thia 
want was perfectly imperceptible: she 
remarked in her lorer only a figure 
eveiy whereunequalled— an ^e dwaya 
doquent with admiration—* step firam 
which grace could never be divorced — 
a Toice that spoke in a diver k^, and 
uttered flatteries delicate in thought 
and poeticd in word : — even a certain 
originality of mind, remark, and 
character, occadondly approaching 
to the bizarre, yet sometimes also to 
the elevated, possessed a charm for 
the imagination of a young and noi 



PAUL CLIPFOBD. 



146 



tinentlitisiasiic female, and contrasted 
fiiyourably, rather than the reverae, 
"with the dull insipidity of those she 
ordinarily saw. Nor are we sure that 
the mystery thrown about him, irk- 
some as it was to her, and discreditable 
as it appeared to others, was altogether 
ineffectual in increasing her love for 
the adTenturer ; and thus Fate, which 
transmutes in her magic crndble all 
opposing metals into that one which 
she is desirous to produce, swelled the 
wealth of an ill-placed and ominous 
passion by the very circumstances 
which should have counteracted and 
destroyed it. 

We are willing, by what we have 
said, not to defend Clifford, but to 
redeem Lucy in the opinion of our 
readers for loving so unwisely; and 
when they remember her youth, her 
education, her privation of a mother, 
of all female friendship, even of the 
vigilant and unrelaxing care of 'some 
protector of the opposite sex, we do 
not think that what was so natural 
will be coneddered by any inexcusable. 
Manleverer woke the morning after 
the ball in better health than usual, 
and, consequently, more in love than 
ever. According to his resolution 
the night before, he sat down to 
write a long letter to William Brandon : 
it was amusing and witty as usual ; 
but the wily nobleman succeeded, 
under the cover of wit^ in conveying 
to Brandon's mind a serious appre- 
hension lest his cherished matrimonial 
project should altogether fiul. The 
account of Lucy and of Captain Clif- 
ford, contained in the epistle, instilled, 
indeed, a double portion of sourness 
into the professionally acrid mind of 
the lawyer; and as it so happened 
that he read the letter just before 
attending the court upon a case in 
which he was counsel to the crown, 
the witnesses on the opposite side of 
the question felt the full effects of the 
tarrister's ill-humour. 
The case was one in which the de- 
No. 30 



fendanthad been engaged in swindling 
transactions to a very large amount ; 
and, amongst his agents and assist- 
ants, was a person of the very lowest 
orders — but who, seemingly enjoy- 
ing large connexions, and possessing 
natural acuteness and address, ap- 
peared to have been of great use in 
receiving and disposing of such goods 
as were fraudulently obtained. As a 
witness against the latter person ap- 
peared a pawnbroker, who produced 
certain articles that had been pledged 
to him at different times by this 
humble agent. Now, Brandon, in 
examining the guilty go-between, 
became the more terribly severe, in 
proportion as the man evinced that 
semblance of unconscious stolidity 
which the lower orders can so inge- 
niously assume, and which is so pecu- 
liarly adapted to enrage and to baffle 
the gentlemen of the bar. At length, 
Brandon entirely subduing and quell- 
ing the stubborn hypocrisy of the 
culprit, the man turned towards him 
a look between wrath and beseeching- 
ness, muttering : — 

''Aha \^^/ so be. Counsellor Fran- 
don, you knew vat I know% you 
vould not go for to bully / so 1 * 

" And pray, my good fellow, what 
is it that you know that should make 
me treat you as if I thought you an 
honest man ? " 

The witness had now relapsed into 
snllenness, and only answered by a 
sort of grunt. Brandon, who knew 
well how to sting a witness into com- 
municativeness, continued his ques- 
tioning, till the witness, re-aroused 
into anger, and, it may be, into indis- 
cretion, said, in a low voioe,—* 

"Has Mr. Swoppem {the pawn- 
broker) what I sold 'im on the 15th 
hof February, exactiy twenty-three 
yearn ago t" 

Brandon started back, his lips grew 
white, he blenched his hands with a 
convulsive spasm ; and while all his 
features seemed distorted with an 

«. 20 



IM 



FAVhCUVJOW. 



eunm^ J9t feaiSal mtanuly of expae- 
iadon, hfi poured forth a ToUejsr of 
qaeatioiu» bo inoohfirent and so ane- 
levanlv ^t ho w^immodiately oaUed 
to order by hiB learned broidier on the 
opposite idde. Koihing iuiiher tsould 
he eztraoted from tiie nitneas. The 
psimbroker vas xo-summoned : ho 
appealed somewhat diaoonoerted by 
An appeal to hk floemoij ae &r baid: 
as twent^thiee jeans ; but a&er taking 
aome time -to eonaider^ during whiish 
the i^tation of the uauallj.cold and 
poBseeaed Brandon was remarkable to 
all the oourt^ he deeUured that he 
reooUeoted no transafition whataoerer 
with the witneas at that time. In 
Tain weM all Brandon's effiMrts to 
proeun » move elucidatory answer. 
The pawnhB^fir was jgnpenefccable, 
and jJie laiwyer was compelled reluc- 
tantly to dismiss him. The moment 
the witness left the box, Brandon 
sunk into a gloomy abstmetion— 'he 
seemed quite to forget the business 
and the duties of the court ; and so 
negligently did he conUnue to con- 
clude the case, so purposelesB was the 
jrest of his examination and cfoss- 
exjimination, that the cause was 
entirely maised, and a verdict ^ Not 
guiliy " zetumed by the jury. 

The mAment he left the court, 
Brandon regiaired to the pawnbroker's ; 
and after a conversaitiDn with Mr. 
Swqppten^ in whieh he satisfied -that 
honest tradesman that his ol»)eot nas 
rather ie reward than intimidate, 
Swoppem OQB&ssed therfi, twtt&ty-three 
years ago, the witness had met him 
at a public-house in Beyeseux Court, 
in company -with two other men, and 
sold him verend articles in pl«te, 
ornament ibc. The great bidk of 
these artides had, of cooib^ long left 
the^pawnbiokor's abode; but he atill 
thought a striy trinket ^r two~-not 
of suffiment wortii to be se«et or fb- 
mod^led^ ner of sufficient fiishion to 
find A i«ady sale — lingered in his 
drawoBB. iEitigejlyj and with trembling 



handle did Brandoa toss oyer the 
moUej contents of the mahogax^ 
lesenroirB which the pawnbrcjcer now 
submitted to his acrotiny. Kothing 
on earth is so mebmeholy a jprospeet 
AS a pawnbroker's drawer I Thoae 
little^ qnaini^ wdueless ornaments,-^ 
those true-Ioyers^knoti^ those oval 
kcketi^ those battered ring^ girdle 
1^ ini^als, or soane brief inscription 
of regard or of grie( — what tales of 
past affefitionHy hope^, and aonrows, do 
they not iteUl But no aentiment of 
so general a sort ever saddened the 
hard mind oi William foandou, and 
now less than at any time eould such 
reflections have oceured to him. 
In^patiently he threw on the table, 
one After another, the banbles once 
hoarded, perchance, with the tenderest 
respedi, till. At length, his eyes 
eparkle4f and with a nenrous gnpe he 
seized upon an old ring, wUch waa 
inaoribed with letters, and circled a 
iieart containing hair. The inscrip- 
tion was simply, "W. B. io JuIja."^ 
Strange and dark was the expression 
that settled on Brandon's &ee as he 
regarded this seemingly worthless 
trbikat After a mementos gaz<^ he 
uttered an inartioulate vexdamation, 
and thmsting it into his pocket, re- 
newed his search. He jfonnd one or 
two other trifles of a siaular nature ; 
one was im ilkioiM miniature sot ia 
«ilyer. And bearing at the baok sundi^r 
halfeffaoad letten^ which Brandon 
eonfltnwd at enoe (though no other 
ve(fe cQuld) into " Bir John Brandon, . 
1685, JBt^. ^ ;" the other was a seal 
fitamped with the noble erest of tl^e 
house of Brandon, 'A bull's head, 
ducally crowned and armed. Or.' As 
soon as Brandon had possessed him- 
self of these treasures, and aoiyed At 
the oonyiotion that the place held no 
moie^ he assured ihe conacientioua 
Swop^pem of his regard for that per- 
son's safety, rwmrded him munifi- 
cently, and went his way to Bofw 
Street for a wttrrant sgainat the 



. PAUL CHFJPaBp. 



147 



vitBieift vhe had oomiBMiydad lum to 
the fiaialMrokdr* Onhisroadtkither, 
a sew resolaliQB occurred to him: 
^ Why make all pablic/ he muttered 
to himself, " if it as» be avoided? and 
it may be aroidedr' He paofied a 
moment^-^then retraced his way to 
the pawnbroker's, and, after a brief 
joandate to Kr. Swoppem, returned 
^osna. la the coarse of the same 
ereohig, the witaAss we refer to was 
brought ta tha lawyer's homae by Mr. 
Swoppem» and there held a long and 
private ooaT^raafeioa with Brandon; 
the reaoit of this seemeda compact to 
their mutual satis&ction, for the man 
went sway safety with a heavy purse 
and a light hearty although sundry 
shades and misgivings did certainly 
ever and aaon cross the latter ; while 
Brandon flung himself back in his 
eeat, with the triumphant air of one 
who has accomplished some great 
measure, and his dark &oe betrayed 
in every feature a joyousness and 
hope, whieh were uu&equent guests, 
a, must be owned, either to his coun- 
tenance or his heart 

So good a man of business^ however, 
was William Brandon, that he allowed 
not the event of that day to defer 
beyond the night his attention to his 
designs jfor the aggrandisement of his 
niece and bouse. By daybreak the 
next morning, he had written to Lord 
Mauleverer, to his brother;, and to 
Lucy. To ^e last, his letter, couched 
in all the anxiety of iiandness, and 
the caution of affectionate experience, 
was weU calculated to occasioa that 
min^d shame and soreness which 
the waiy lawyer rightly judged would 
be tiie most effectual enemy to an 
ineipieat passion. "I have accidentally 
heard," lie wrote, ''from a &iend of 
•mine, just arrived from Bath, of the 
glaring attenlions paid to you by a 
Captain Clifibzd; I will not, my 
deanst niece, wound you by repeating 
what also I heard of your manner in 
reeeivingthem. I know the ill-nature 



and the «avy «f the world; and I do 
not for a moment iaaagiiw^ that my 
Lucy, of whom I am so just^ proud, 
would oountenaooe^ from a petty 
coquetry, the advances of one whom 
she could never many, or eviace to 
aigr suitor partiality unknown to her 
relations, and e^rtaoaly placed in a 
quarter which oould never reoeiTe 
their approbation. I do not credit 
tiie r^orts of the idle, my dear nieoe ; 
but if I discredit, you mxwt not slight 
them. I call upon your prodeaee^ 
your ddicacy, your discretion, your 
sense of right, at oaoe^ and effector 
ally, to put a stop to all impertinent 
romouiB : dance with this young maai 
no more ; do not let him be of your 
party in any place of amusement^ 
pubUo or private ; avoid ev&i seeing 
him if yon are able, and throw in your 
manner towards him that decided 
coldneas which the world cannot mis- 
take." Much more did the skilfia 
uncle write, but all to the same pur- 
pose, and for the furtherance of the 
same design. His letter to his brothv 
was no less artfuL He told him at 
once that Lucy's i»reference of the 
suit of a handsome fortvne-hunter was 
the public talk, and besoug^it him to 
lose not a moment in quelling 1^ 
rumour. " You may do so easily," he 
wrote, " by avoiding the young man.; 
and should he be voy importunate, 
return at once to Warlock; your 
daughter's wel&re moat be dearer to 
you than any thing." 

To Mauleverer, Brandon replied by 
a letter which turned first on public 
matters, and then slid careleady into 
the subject of the earl's information. 

Among the admonitions which he 
ventured to give Mauleverer, he dwelt, 
not without reason, on the want of 
tact displayed by the early m not 
manifesting that pomp and show 
which his station in life enabled him 
to do. " Remember," he urged, "yoi^ 
are iu)t among your equally by wh< 
unnecessary parade begins to 

I. 2 




148 



PAUL CLIPPOED. 



coDBidered an ostentatioiu Tulgarity. 
The sorest method of dazzling our infe- 
riors is by splendour— not taste. All 
young persons — all women in par- 
ticular^ are caught by show, and 
enamoured of magnificence. Assume 
a greater state, and you will be more 
talked of; and notoriety wins a 
woman's heart more than beauty or 
youth. Tou haye, forgive me, played 
the boy too long ; a certain dignity 
becomes your manhood : women will 
not respect you if you suffer yourself 
to become * stale and cheap to vulgar 
company.' Ton are like a man who 
has fifty advantages, and uses only 
one of them to gain his point, when 
you rely on your conversation and 
your manner, and throw away the 
resources of your wealth and your 
station. Any private gentleman may 
be amiable and witty; but any 
private gentleman cannot call to his 
aid the Aladdin's lamp possessed in 
England by a wealthy peer. Look to 
this, my dear lord; Lucy at heart is 
vain, or she is not a woman. Bazzle 
her, then, — dazzle ! Love may be 
blind, but it must be made so by 
excess of light. You have a countiy- 
house ^thin a few miles of Bath. 
Why not take up your abode there 
instead of in a paltry lodging in the 
town? Give sumptuous entertain- 
ments, — ^make it necessary for all the 
world to attend them,— exclude, of 
course, this Caption Clifford ; you will 
then meet Luqr without a ri^ At 
present^ excepting only your title, you 
fight on a level ground with this 
adventurer, instead of an eminence 
team which yon could in an instant 
sweep him away. Nay, he is stronger 
than you ; he has the opportunities 
afforded by a partnership iii balls 
where you cannot appear to advan- 
tage; he is, you say, in the first 
bloom of youth, — ^he is handsome. 
Beflect (—your destiny, so fiur as Lucy 
is concerned, is in your hands, 
turn to other subjects," kn» 



As Brandon re-read, ere he signed, 
this last letter, a bitter smile sat on 
his harsh, yet handsome features. 
" If," said he, mentally, " I can effect 
this object ; if Mauleverer does marry 
this girl, why so much the better that 
she has another, a fiiirer, and a more 
welcome lover. By the great prin- 
ciple of scorn within me, which has 
enabled me to sneer at what weaker 
minds adore, and make a footstool of 
that worldly honour which fools set 
up as a throne, it would be to me 
more sweet than &me — ^ay, or even 
than power— to see this fine-spun 
lord a gibe in the mouths of men, — 
a cuckold — a cuckold!" and as he 
said the last word Brandon laughed 
outright. "And he thinks, too," 
added he, "that he is sure of my 
fortune; otherwise, perhaps, he, the 
goldsmith's descendant, would not 
dignify our house with his proposals ; 
but he may err there — ^he may err 
there ;" — and finishing his soliloquy, 
Brandon finished also his letter by — 
"Adieu, my dear lord, your most 
affectionate friend f " 

It is not difficult to conjecture the 
effect produced upon Lucy by Bran- 
don's letter : it made her wretched ; 
she refused for days to go out; she 
shut herself up in her apartment and 
consumed the time in tears and strug- 
gles with her own heart Sometimes, 
what she conceived to be her duty 
conquered, and she resolved to for- 
swear her lover ; but the night undid 
the labour of the day : for at night, 
every night, the sound of her lover's 
voice, accompanied by music, melted 
away her resolution, and made her 
once more all tenderness and trust 
The words, too, sung under her win- 
dow, were especially suited to affect 
her; they breathed a melancholy 
which touched her the more from its 
harmony with her own thoughts. One 
while they complained of absence, at 
another they hinted at neglect ; but 
there was always in them a tone of 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



149 



humUiation, not reproach: they be- 
spoke a sense of unworthineas in the 
lover, and confessed that even the 
love was a crime : and in proportion 
as they owned the want of desert, did 
Lucy more firmly cling to the belief 
that her lover was deserving. 

The old squire was greaUy discon- 
certed by his brother's letter. Though 
impressed with the idea of self-conse- 
quence, and the love of tolerably pure 
blood, common to most country 
squires, he was by no means ambitious 
for his daughter. On the contrary, 
the same feeling which at Warlock 
had made him choose his companions 
among the inferior gentry, made him 
averse to the thought of a son-in-law 
from the peerage. In spite of Mau- 
leverer's good nature, the very ease of 
the earl annoyed him, and he never 
felt at home in his society. To Clif- 
ford he had a great liking ; and having 
convinced himself that there was 
nothing to suspect in the young gen- 
tleman, he saw no earthly reason why 
so agreeable a companion should not 
be an agreeable son-in-law. ''If he 
be poor," thought the squire, "though 
he does not seem so, Lucy is rich !*' 
And this truism appeared to him to 
answer every objection. Nevertheless, 
William Brandon possessed a remark- 
able influence over the weaker mind of 
of his brother ; and the squire, though 
with great reluctance, resolved to adopt 



his advice. He shut his doors against 
Cliiford, and when he met him in the 
streets, instead of greeting him with 
his wonted cordiality, he passed him 
with a hasty "Good day, captain!" 
which, after the first day or two^ 
merged into a distant bow. When- 
ever very good-hearted people are 
rude, and unjustly so, the rudeness is 
in the extreme. The squire felt it 
so irksome to be less familiar than 
heretofore with Clifford, that his 
only remaining desire was now to 
drop him altogether; and to this 
consummation of acquaintance the 
gradually cooling salute appeared 
rapidly approaching. Meanwhile, Clif- 
ford, unable to see Lucy, shunned 
by her father, and obtaining in 
answer to all inquiry rude looks 
from the footman, whom nothing but 
the most resolute command over his 
muscles prevented him from knocking 
down, began to feel, perhaps, for the 
first time in his life, that an equivocal 
character is at least no equivocal mis- 
fortune. To add to his distress, " the 
earnings of his previous industry " — 
we use the expression cherished by 
the wise Tomlinson — ^waxed gradually 
less and less, beneath the expenses of 
Bath ; and the murmuring vdlces of 
his two comrades began already to 
reproach their chief for his inglorious 
idleness, and to hint at the necessity 
of a speedy exertion. 



CHAPTER XX. 

** Whaekum. Look yon there, now ! Well, all Europe cannot show a knot of finer wtts 
and braver gentlemen. 
JMft^oy. Faith, they are pretty smart men." Shauwbxx's Seourert. 



The world of Bath was of a sudden 
delighted by the intelligence that 
Lord Mauleverer had gone to Beau- 
vale (the beautiful seat possessed by 
that nobleman in the neighbourhood 
of Bath), with the intention of there 



holding a series of sumptuous enter- 
tainments. 

The first persons to whom the gay 
earl announced his "hospitable pur- 
pose " were Mr. and Hiss Brandon ; 
he called at their house, and declared 



150 



PAUL CLIFPOBD. 



his resolution of not lesring it till 
Lncy (who "was in her own room) 
consented to gratify him with an in- 
terview; and a promise to be the 
queen of his purposed festiyal. hacy, 
teased by her &ther, descended to the 
drawing-room spiritless and pale; 
and the eari, struck by tiie alteration 
of her appearance, took her hand^ and 
made his inquiries with so interested 
and feeling a semblance of kindness, 
as prepossessed the &ther, for the 
first time, in his &TOur, and touched 
even the daughter. So earnest, too, 
was his request that she would honour 
his festlTitieB with her presence, and 
with so skilful a flattery was it con- 
reyed, that the squire undertook to 
promise the &your in her name ; and 
when the earl, declaring he was not 
contented with that promise from an- 
other, appealed to Lucy herself her 
denial was soon melted into a positiye, 
though a reluctant assent. 

Delighted with his succesi^ and 
more struck with Lucy^ loyellness, 
refined as it was by her paleness, 
than he had ever been before, Maule- 
yerer left the house, and calculated, 
with greater accuracy than he had 
hitherto done, the probable fortune 
Lucy would deriye frx>m her uncle. 

No sooner were the cards issued for 
Lord Mauleverer's fHe, than nothing 
else was talked of among the circles 
which, at Bath, people were pleased 
to term "the World." 

But, in the interim, caps are making, 
and talk flowing, at Bath ; and when 
it was found that Lord Mauleyerer — 
the good-natured Lord Mauleverer! 
— the obliging Lord Mauleverer! — 
was really going to be exclusive, and 
out of a thousand acquaintances to 
select only eight hundred, it \b amazing 
how his popularity deepened into 
respect Kow, then, came anxiety 
and triumph; she who was asked 
turned her back upon her who was 
not, — old friendships dissolyed^ — In- 
dependence wrote letters for a ticket. 



—and, as England is the freest eonn- 
tiy in the world, all the Mistresses 
Hodg«s and Snodges begged to take 
the liberty of bringing their youngest 
daughters. 

Leaving the enviable Mauleyerer — 
the godlike occaraon of so mwA. hap- 
piness and woe, triumph and dgection, 
ascend with us, O reader, into those 
elegant apartments oyer the hair- 
dr^sei^ shop, tenanted by Mr. Edward 
Pepper and Mr. Augustus Tomlinson r 
— the time was that of evening; 
Captain Clifibrd had been dining vnith 
his two friends ; the chrthwas remoyed^ 
and coayersation was flowing over a 
table graced by two bottlea of port, a 
bowl of punch for Mr. Pepper^ espe- 
cial discussion, two cBriies ef filberts,, 
another of deyiRed biscuits, and a 
fourth of three Pbmarian cmdttieB» 
which nobody toudied. 

The hearth was swept clean, the 
fire burned high and dear, the cur- 
tains were let down, and the light 
excluded. Our three adyenturers and 
their room seemed the picture of 
comfort So thought Mr. Pepper; 
for, ghmcmg round the chamber, and 
putting his feet upon the feadssr^ ho 
said, — 

*'Were my portrait to be itkea^ 
gentlemen, it is just as I am nowthat 
I would be drawn f *• 

^And," said Tomlinson, crackinj^ 
his filberts — ^Tomlinson was fond of 
filberts — " were I to choose a home, it 
is In such a home as this that I would 
be always quartered." 

" Ah ! gentlemen," said Clifford, 
who had been for some time silent^ 
" it is more than probable that both 
your wishes may be heanl, and ihak 
ye may be drawn, quartered, and 
sometlUng else, too, in the yery place. 
oiyouT desert/** 

"Well!" said Tomlinaon, BmiKng 

gently, "I am happy to hear you jest 

again, captaiUj^ though it be at our 

expense." 

"Expense!* echoed Ned; '•'Ayt 



PAUL CLIFFORD* 



161 



tliew^ t^« rab ! Who. tike denee^is to 
pay the eipeaao of onr dlimerl " 

<»And our dinners Im: the laat 
weekr add^ Tomlinson ;— "this 
empty nut lootoiominoaft; ttowrt»inly 
lui» one gnnd featave^ Btnkingly m* 
tselhbliBg my peekela.'* 

''Heighor sailed haog Ked— 
tnniing h» iraiBteofrt comm^dilAes 
iBBide^wt with a wgoSAesiA gestnte, 
TfMle the aceompllshed fomUnaoa, 
irho yn» fond of plaintive poetey, 
pointed to^Hie diBconaolate Taoii^ and 



» S'flB. ifUl» VuibUmfBWghiMt art^daeoy, 
Tke heart desponding adu if thU be joy !" 



« In truth, gentlemen," added he, 
«olenmly depositing' his nntrcrackere 
KXL the table, and hiying, as was his- 
-^ront, when about to be lumintni», his 
right finger on his sinister palm — 
*' in truth, gentlemen, aiBilr»aTe grow^ 
iiig serious irith xa, tend it becomes 
ttecessary torthirlth to devise some 
safe means of procuriiqf a- decent com- 
petence." 

'''I am dunned eonJbmidedly/ cned 
!Ked!i 

** And,* eontihued Tttmlinaon, * no 
person of delicacy Ukes to be sub*- 
jected to the importunity of nrigar 
crediton; we must, therefore, raise 
money forthe liquidation of our debts. 
Captain Lovett, or Clliford, whichever 
you be styled, we cafl upon you to 
^SHst us in so praiseworthy* purpose; ' 
Clifford tamed his eyes flrat on 
<mev and then on the otl^er^ but made 
no answer: 

*' JTnprwuw," said Tomlinson, « let 
«» each produce our stock in hand : 
Ibr my part, I am ftee to confess^— for 
irtiat shame is there in that poverty 
which our exertions aw iUt>out to re- 
lieve ?— I^t I have only two golhem, 
four shiUhigs, and threepence half- 
penny ! " 

" And T," said Longr led, taking 
ff China ornament from the chimney- 
piece, and emptying its contents ii> 



his haad^ " ion in a still moie pitiM 
condition. See, I have only three 
shillings and a bad guinea. Iga^the 
guinea to the wiuter at the White 
Hart, yesterday; the dog brought 
it back to me to^y, and I w» fonced 
to change it with my last riiiner. 
Plague take the thing; I bought it 
of a Jew for four aiiillingBj and have 
lost one pound five by the bargain !" 
" Fortuaie frustrates our wisest 
s^mesl*^ vejoined the monlising 
Augustus. "Captain, will y«e produce 
the scanty wredra of your wealth 1 *' 

Clifibrd, aim i^ent, threw^a pune 
on the table; Augustus carefiiUy 
emptied it, and counted out five 
guineas ; m expression of grave sur^ 
prise settled on Tomlinson's contem- 
plative brow, and extending Aeceins 
towards Clififord, he secid iit a melan- 
eh(^7 tone,— 



A look ftom GBflbrd answwetf the 
interesting hiterrogstorx. 

•* Thesoi then,*^ said TomHnsott, col- 
lecting in his hand the common wealth 
— " thesci then, are all our remaining 
treasures ! *^ As he spoke, he jingled 
Iftte coins mounxiVilly inhiff pahn, and 
gazing upon them with a paxestalar, 
exchumed,-^ 

'<AU»I TCgudleMof mat dooB^iiwllttle^ 
Tlotlms plAy I " 

*rO^ di_ttr said IM, "no 
sentiment! Let «« come to business 
St once. To tell you the truth> I, for 
one, atti tired of this heiress^hunthig, 
and a nniiL may spend a- fortune in 
the chase before he can win one." 

*< You despair then, positively, of 
the widowyott haveconrtedw longl" 
asked Tomlinson. 

^' Utteriy I" rejoined Wed, whose 
addresses had been linrited solely to 
the dames of the middling class, and 
who had imagined himself . at one 
timci as he pmmingly expressed it 



162- 



PAUI4 CLIFFORD, 



sure of a dMsr rib from Cheapaide, 
" Utterly ; she vaa very civil to me 
at first, but when I proposed, asked 
me, wiUi a blush, for mj ' references.' 
— ' Beferences V said I ; ' why, I want 
the place of your huBband,my charmer, 
not your footman!'— The dame was 
inexorable, said she could not take 
me without a character, but hinted 
that I might be the lover instead of 
the bridegroom; and when I scorned 
the suggestion, and pressed for the 
parson, she told me point blank, with 
her unlucky city pronunciation, ' that 
she would never accompany me to the 
AalterT" 

<<Ha, ha, ha!" cried Tomlinson, 
laughing. '* One can scarcely blame 
the good lady for that Love rarely 
brooks such permanent ties. But 
have you no ofiier lady in your eye V* 

"Not for matrimony; — all roads 
but those to the church !" 

While this dissolute pair were thus 
conversing, Clifford, leaning against 
the wainscot, listened to them with a 
sick and bitter feeling of degradation, 
which, till of late days, had been a 
stranger to his breast. He waA at 
lengti^ aroused from his silence by 
Ned, who bending forward, and placing 
his hand upon Clifford's knee, said 
abruptly,— 

"In i^ort, captain, you must lead 
us once more to glory. We have still 
our horses, and I keep my mask in 
my pocket-book, together with my 
comb. Let us take the road to-morrow 
nighty dash across the country towards 
Salisbuiy, and after a short visit in 
that neighbourhood to a band^f old 
friends of mine — bold fellows, who 
would have stopped the devil himself 
when he was at work upon Stonehenge, 
— ^make a tour by Reading and Henley, 
and end by a plunge into London." 

" You have spoken well, Ned I " 
said Tomlinson, approvingly. " Now, 
noble captain, your opinion?" 

" Messieurs," answered Clifford, " I 
highly approve of your intended 



excursion, and I only r^^t that i 
cannot be your companion." 

"Not I and why]" cried Mr. 
Pepper, amazed. 

" Because I have business here that 
renders it impossible ; perhaps, before 
long, I may join you in London." 

"Nay," said Tomlinson, "there is 
no necessity for our going to London, 
if you wish to remain here ; nor need 
we at present recur to so desperate an 
expedient as the road — a litUe quiet 
business at Bath will answer our 
purpose ; and for my part, as yon 
well know, I love exerting my wits in 
some scheme more worthy of them 
than the highway; — a profession 
meeter for a bully than a man of 
genius. Let us then, captain, plan a. 
project of enrichment on the property 
of some credulous tradesman! why 
have recourse to rough measures, so 
long as we can find easy fools 1 " 

Clifford shook his head. "I will 
own to you fairly," said he, " that I 
cannot at present take a share in your 
exploits : nay, as your chief, I must 
lay my positive commands on you to 
refrain from all exercise of your talenta 
at Bath. Rob, if you please: the 
world is before you; but this cityia 
sacred." 

"Body o' me ! " cried Ned, colouring^ 
" but this is too good. I will not be 
dictated to in this manner." 

" But, sir," answered Clifford, who 
had learned in his oligarchical profes- 
sion the way to command, "but^ sir, 
you shall; or if you mutiny, you 
leave our body, and then will the 
hangman have no petty chance of 
your own. Come ! come ! ingrate aa 
you are, what would you be without 
me 1 How many times have I already 
saved that long carcass of thine frt>m 
the rope, and now would you have tho 
baseness to rebel 1 Out on you 1 " 

Though Mr. Pepper was still wroth, 
he bit his lip in moody silence, and 
suffered not his passion to have its 
way; while Clifford rising, after a 



PAUL CLIFFORD, 



153 



short pause, continued : " Look you, 
Hr. Pepper, you know my commiuidB; 
consider them peremptoiy. I wish 
you success, and plenty! Farewell, 
gentlemen!" 

"Do yon leave us already]" cried 
Tomlinson, '' You are offended." 

** Surely not ! " answered Clifford, 
retreating to the door. " But an 
engagement elsewhere, you know !" 

"Ay, I take you !" said Tomlinson, 
following Clifford out of the room, 
and shutting the door after him. 

" Ay, I take you I" added he, in a 
whisper, as he arrested Clifford at the 
head of the stairs. ** But tell me, how 
do yon get on with the heiress 1" 

Smothering that sensation at his 
heart which made Clifford, reckless as 
he was, enraged and ashamed, when- 
erer, through the lips of his comrades, 
there issued any allusion to Lucy 
Brandon, the chief replied, " I fear, 
Tomlinson, that I am already sus- 
pected by the old squire I AU of a 
sudden, he aroids me, shuts his door 
against me ; Miss Brandon goes 
nowhere : and even if she did, what 
could I expect from her after this 
sudden change in the &ther V* 

TTondinson looked blank and dia> 
eoncerted. "But," said he, after a 
moment's silence, "why not put a 
good lace on the matter 1 walk up to 
the squire, and ask him the reason of 
hisunklndnesst" 

'* Why, look you, my friend ; I am 
bold enough with all others, but this 
girl has aude me as bashful as a maid 
in all that relatea to herself. Nay, 
there are momenta when I think I can 
conquer all selfish feeling, and rejoice 
for her sake that she has escaped me. 
Could I but see her once more— I 
could — ^yes ! I feel — ^I feel I could — 
resign her for ever !" 

" Humph ! " said Tondinson ; " and 
what is to become of iw / Really, my 
captain, your sense of duty should lead 
you to exert yourself; your friends 
stanre before your eyes^ while you are 



shilly-shallying about your mistress. 
Have you no bowels for friendship T 

" A truce with this nonsense !" said 
Clifford, angrily. 

"It is sense,— sober sense, — and 
sadness too," r^'oined Tomlinson. 
"Ned is discontented, our debts are 
imperious. Suppose now,— just sup- 
pose, — that we take a moonlight 
flitting from Bath, will that tell well 
for you whom we leave behind ) Yet 
this we must do, if you do not devise 
some method of refilling our purses. 
Either, then, consent to join us in a * 
scheme meet for our wants, or pay our 
debts in thia city, or fly with us to 
London, and dismiss all thoughts of 
that love which is so seldom Mendly 
to the projects of ambition." 

Notwithstanding the manner in 
which Tomlinson made this threefold 
proposition, Clifford could not but 
ackiiowledge the sense and justice 
contained in it ; and a gUince at the 
matter sufficed to show how ruinous 
to his character, and, therefore, to his 
hopes, would be the flight of his 
comrades and the damour of their 
creditors. 

" You speak well, Tomlinson," said 
he, hesitating ; "and yet for the life 
of me I cannot aid you in any scheme 
which may disgrace us by detection. 
Nothing can reconcile me to the 
apprehension of Miss Brandon's dis- 
covering who and what was her 
suitor." 

"I feel for you," said Tomlinson, 
"but give me and Pepper at least 
permission to shift for ourselves ; 
trust to my known prudence for 
finding -some method to raise the 
wind without creating a dust: in 
other words — (this cursed Pepper 
makes one so vulgar !)— of preying on 
the public without bdng discovered." 

"I see no alternative," answered 
Clifford, reluctantly, <' but, if possible, 
be quiet for the present; b^ with 
me for a few days longer, give me 
only sufficient time onee more to see 



154 



PAUL CLII'FORD. 



Wm BnmdoB, aad I will e&g*9& ^ 
extricate you frxm your d^(mltie» ! " 

<* Spoken tike yoors^, frankly and 
nobly I" replied Tomliniion: "no one 
has a givaier confidence in yonr 
gennaS) once exerted, than I have !" 

So aaymg, tke pair shook hands 
and parted. Tond^isea rejoined Hr. 
P«p|«r. 

'^ WeU, have yon settled anythfaiirf "* 
<IBath the Istter. 

^Not exactly; and tiievgh Levett 
haa promised to exert hiinself in a 
few days, yet as the poor nnn m ia 
tofe, and his genius under s cliSQd, I 
have little faith in his promses.'* 

"And I have none !" said Pepper; 
^ besides, time presses ! A few days! 
— a few devils! We are certainly 
eeented heie, and I walk aihont fike a 
baml of beer at ChriBtniM> under 
hovrlyappr^feension'crf being tappedr 

" it is very strange," said the phil^ 
eephie AngastuB; " bat I tiunk there 
il»an kistinct in tradesmen hy which: 
they can tell » rogae at fitet sig-K 
and I can get {dress I ever so well) no 
XBore credit with my lanndress thsn- 
my friends the Whigs can witii the- 
peeple." 

"In short, akea^" said IM^ "wv 
waat xecoT at once to the read ; and 
on tile day after to-morrew there wHi 
be^an excellent oppovtaoity : the old 
earl with ^e hard name gives a 
bveakftH(^ <or feast, or some sacfa 
mummery. I understand people will 
ftta^ tin after nightflilt ; let ios twatch 
<3fat opportunity, we a»e fianeasly 
]nonnted> and some carriage later than, 
Hie general string may fiimlsh ns 
with aH oar hearts can desirtf !" 

" Bravol '* ciaed Tomlinson^ dEiak&g 
Hr; Pepper heartily by the hand ; " I 
give yow joy of yonr ingenRity, and 
yon ma^t trust tO' me to make our 
peaoe aifterwardh wi?th Lovett. Any 
enterprise that seem9 to him gallant 
he ift always wilKng enough to foigvve ; 
and as he never practises any other 
branch of the pvofessien than Idiat of 



the Toad,~>(for whidi I eoafcsa that I 
ihmk hkn lbeUah,>--he will be morn 
ready to look over our ezpleits in thai 
line than in any otiter mete subtler 
but less heroic.'' 

" WelV I l«B^e it to yow to propi- 
tiate Hie cove or not, as yon ^sase ; 
and now that we have settled the 
main point, let m finish the Insh !* 

" And," added Angnstn^ taking a 
pack of candsfrom tiie-clnmuey-piece, 
"we can in the meanwhile have m 
quiet game at cribbege-for shillii^gs." 

" Done i " cried IM, efeanng away 
the desert. 

If the ledonbted heat to of Kr. 
Edward Pepper, and «h»t inysses of 
rebbers, Aiq^stus IPomHasen, beat 
h^ as- the limirs brought on Lord 
Iftnileveierli/Me, tiheir lender was net 
withont sniiety and expeetaitionJbr 
tile* same event. Be waa nninvitBdy 
it is true, to I3ie gary sewte ; bet he 
had heavd in pobUc that MiseBsanw 
don, reoovered from hw huto illness^ 
wns certainllyto be there; and GHf*- 
fiird, ten.' with sn^nste, and eager 
onee more, ev«n if for the last tin^ t» 
see the enl;^ person who had e^sr 
pierced hs seal with s keen sens9 
of his errors, or edmes, lOMived to 
risk aH ebstades, and meet her at 
Hanleveier's.. 

"My life," aidd he, as he sitt afom: 
in his apartment, ey«ing the iSAing 
embers of his still and lelfaargie fire^ 
" m^ Soon approacik^ it» tenauaation ; 
it is, indeed^ out of the ^lanees of 
thinga thait I can kmg eseape tiMi 
doom of mjeonfiKtiwi^,*^ and whei^ an 
a last hope to ruse myee^ from- my 
desperate etote mte FBspeetaMlity and 
refbrm', I eamw hither, and meditated 
purehaeingiBdependeitoe l^marriage, 
I wae bUnd to the enieed rascality of 
the action ! Happy^, after all, that^ 
my intentionfrwere directed against 
(me whom I so soon and so adoringly 
lieamed to love ! Mbd I weoed one' 
whom I loved lesi^ I might not hafe. 
sempled to deceive her int6 marriage. 



PAUL CLIFFOBD. 



155 



Asitisl—iren!— it is idle in meto 
tlihtk thus of my reaolvtieiiy when I 
have net even the optwn to cfaeoae ; 
wlien lier ftttber, peiinps, has theadj 
l^ted tbe Tmi from my aeeiimed 
^gnities, and the daughter already 
ahrinlui in horror from my name. 
Yet I will see her ! I wiH look once 
mem upon tha* «ngei fi^e — I will 
hear from her own lipa the eenfesBlon 
of lier Beom— I will aee that bright 
eye HaA. hatred mpon me, and I can 
tiii«a t«m enee mere to my firtal 
career, and fofget ti»t I have erer 
repented that it mm begun. Yet, 
what else could have been my atter- 
mOkm'i FrientHeaa, homelesB, name- 
lesB— an er^ian, wone than an orphan 
— the aon of a harlot, my fcther ev«i 
naknowBl yet eoraed with early 
aapiiings and reatleaflneaa, and a half 
gUnoMriBg of kMwledge, and an 



entire lust of whatever aeemed enter- 
priae — idiat wonder that I cheae 
any tfaing rather than daily labour 
and perpetual contumely ? After all, 
the &nlt ia in fortune, and the worid, 
not me f Oh, Luey ! had I but bees 
bom in your sphere, had I but pos- 
sesaed the chnm to merit you, what 
wofdd I not have done, and dared, 
and conquered, for your sake ! " 

Such, or similar to these, were the 
l^nghtB of Cliflbrd durii^ the inter- 
val between lua resolution of seeing 
Lacy and the time of eflbcting it. 
The thoughts were of ne pleasing; 
theiogh of an ezeiting nature; mnr 
w«e they greatly soothed by the in- 
geniens occupation of cheating him- 
self into the belief ths^ if he was a 
highwayman, it waa altogether ^km 
fiudt ef th» highmyB^ 



€HAFEElt33L 
**Brmim, Latmekntflaehcr, diarLaontiiK.'' 






Onoo dMie apiitt* that bumeat 
M evetybreaaty inciting each witii the 
jMhline dflrire t» be>M / that etinrest 
up the great to beooBiie> httle in onkr 
to aeem gicater, and thnt makeat a 
dncheai weo ixwd* for a voaeher! 
Tkaa that deligMost in a» many 
ahqpea, mnltiikEioa% yet the aame; 
apnit that makest the high dcQ>iear 
1^ and the lead aieaaer than hia 
tiiet) equally gn&t whether thou 
ehaateata friend, ereatteBt afothwl 
laekariaig all ti^a tonchaat with a 
hci«^t vwlgaaitgr, tha* iNy Totariea 
imagine to be gold:^-4hou tiiat 
aendest the fow to foahienaUe baUa 
and the many to fashienabla novehi; i 
«-^at gmilert evoa Genina aa well ' 



aa VoQy, making tiie ftfonritea ef 
the Gads beast an acqaaintaaoe they 
have net with the graeea ef a aaah- 
loom peerage^ rather than Aa know- 
ledge th^ have ef tiie If naea ef an 
eternal Hdiaon!~4hea that IcvreBft 
in ike great eeean of ear mannars no 
dry spat for thefoot of independence ; 
— ^thstpaflest on the jadei eye with 
a moving and gindling panangna of 
daohed vileaasaes, and fritteraat awagr 
t^ Bonlft of frea4ioni Bntona into a 
povRder aaoAller than the angefe whk^ 
dance in myriads on a pin's point. 
Whether, O apxrit J thou caUeat thy- 
sdf Fashion, or Ton, or Ambition, or 
Yaaity, or Croaging; ar Cant, or any 
iaAe eqoaUy lof^and aahhrne— would 



156 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



that from thy wings ve could gain 
but ft single plame ! Fain would we, 
in fitting strain, describe the festivi- 
ties of that memorable day, when the 
benerolent Lord Mauleverer receiyed 
and blessed the admiring uniyerse of 
Bath. 

But to be less poetical, as certiun 
writers say, when thej have been 
writing nonsense — ^but to be less poe- 
tical, and more exact, the morning, 
though in the depth of winter, wsa 
bright and clear, and Lord Mau- 
leverer found himself in particularly 
good health. Nothing could be better 
planned than the whole of his arrange- 
ments : unlike those which are ordi- 
narily chosen for the express reason 
of being as foreign as possible to the 
nature of our climate, all at Lord 
Mauleverer's were made suitable to 
a Greenland atmosphere. The tem- 
ples and summerhouses, interspeTsed 
through the grounds, were fitted up, 
some as Esquimaux huts, others as 
Bussian pavilions ; fires were carefully 
kept up; the musicians, Mauleverer 
took care should have as much wine 
as they pleased ; they were set skil- 
fully in places where they were un- 
seen, but where they could be heard. 
One or two temporary buildings were 
erected for those who loved dancing ; 
and as Mauleverer, miscalculating on 
the principles of human nature, 
thought ^efn£i/e!iMn might be averse 
from ostentatious exhibition, he had 
hired persons to skate minuets and 
figures of eight upon his lakes, for 
the amusement of those who were 
fond of skating. All people who would 
be kind enough to dress in strange 
costumes, and make odd noises, which 
they called singing, the earl had care- 
fully engaged, and planted in the best 
places for making them look still 
stranger than they were. 

There was also plenty to eat> and 
more than plenty to drink. Mau- 
leverer knew well that our country- 
men and countrywomen, whatever be 



their rank, like to have their spirita 
exalted. In short, the whole <i^frtln^ 
was so admirably contrived, that it 
was probable the guests would not 
look much more melancholy during 
the amusements, than they would 
have done had they been otherwise 
engaged at a funeral 

Lucy and the squire were among 
the first arrivals. 

Mauleverer, approaching the fiither 
and daughter with his most courtiy 
manner, insisted on taking the latter 
under his own escort, and being her 
cicerone through the round of prepa- 
rations. 

As the crowd thickened, and it was 
observed how gallant were the atten- 
tions testified towards Lucy by the 
host^ many and envious were the 
whispers of the guests i Those good 
people, naturally angzy at the thought 
that two individuals should be mar- 
ried, divided themselves into two 
parties; one abused Lucy, and the 
other Lord Mauleverer; the former 
vituperated h/er art^ the latter hM 
folly. '' I thought she would play her 
cards well— deceitful creature ! " said 
the one. ^January and May," mut- 
tered the other ; " the man 's sixty ! " 
It was noticeable that the party 
against Lucy was chiefly compoMd of 
ladies, that against Mauleverer of 
men ; that conduct must indeed be 
heinous which drawns down the in- 
dignation of one*s own sex I 

Unconscious of her crimes, Lupy 
moved along, leaning on the arm of 
the gallant earl, and languidly smil- 
ing, with her heart fax away, at hia 
endeavours to amuse her. lliere was 
something interesting in the mere 
contrast of the pair; so touching 
seemed the beauty of the young giri« 
with her delicate cheek, maiden form, 
drooping eyelid, and quiet simplidty 
of air, in comparison to the worldly 
countenance and artificial grace of 
her companion. 

After some time^ when they were 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



157 



in a sequestered part of the grounds, 
Maulererer, observing tliat none were 
near, entered a rude hnt ; and so fias- 
dnated was he at that moment by 
the beauty of his gaest^ and so meet 
to him seemed the opportunity of his 
confession, that he with difficulty 
suppressed the avowal rising to his 
lips, and took the more prudent plan 
of first sounding and preparing, as it 
were, the way. 

" I cannot tell you, my dear Hiss 
Brandon," said he, slightly pressing 
the beautiful hand leaning on his 
arm, " how happy I am to see you 
the guest — the queen, rather— of my 
house! Ah! could the bloom of 
youth return with its feelings 1 Time 
is never so cruel as when, while steal- 
ing from us the power to please, he 
leaves us in full vigour the unhappy 
privilege to be chfuined ! " 

Mauleverer expected at least a 
blushing contradiction to the implied 
application of a sentiment so affect- 
ingly expressed : he was disappointed. 
Lucy, less alive than usual to the sen- 
timental, or its reverse, scarcely per- 
•ceived his meaning, and answered 
wmply, "That it was veiy true.'* 
'' This comes of being, like my friend 
Burke, too refined for one's audience,'' 
thought Mauleverer, wincing a little 
from the unexpected reply. "And 
yetf he resumed, "I would not 
forego my power to admire, futile — 
nay, painful as it is. Even now while 
I gaze on you, my heart tells me that 
the pleasure I enjoy, it is at your com- 
mand, at once, and for ever, to blight 
into miseiy ; but while it tells me, I 
gaze on!" 

Lucy raised her ^es, and some- 
thing of her natural archness played 
in their expression. 

"I believe, my lord," said she, 
moving from the hut^ "thatitwouldbe 
better tojoin your guests : walls have 
ears; and what would be the gay Lord 
Mauleverer^s self-reproach, if he heard 
again of his fine compliments to 1" 



"The most charming person in 
Europe!" cried Mauleverer vehe- 
mently, and the hand which he before 
touched he now clasped: at that 
instant Lucy saw opposite to her, 
half hid by a copse of eveigreens, the 
figure of Clifibrd. His &ce, which 
seemed pale and wan, was not directed 
towards the place where she stood; 
and he evidently did not perceive 
Mauleverer or herself, yet so great 
"was the effect that this glimpse of 
him produced on Lucy, that she 
trembled violently, and, unconsciously 
uttering a faint cry, snatched her hand 
from Mauleverer. 

The earl started, and, catching the 
expression of her eyes, turned instantly 
towards the spot to which her gaze 
seemed riveted. He had not heard 
the rustling of the boughs, but he saw, 
with his habitual quickness of remark, 
that they still trembled, as if lately 
displaced; and he caught through 
their interstices the glimpse of a re- 
ceding figure. He sprang forward 
with an agility veiy uncommon to 
his usual movements ; but before he 
gained the copse, every vestige of the 
intruder had vanished. 

What slaves we are to the moment! 
As Mauleverer turned back to rejoin 
Lucy, who, agitated almost to faint- 
ing, leaned against the rude wall of 
the hut^ he would as soon have thought 
of flying as of making that generous 
offer of self, &c. which the instant 
before he had been burning to render 
Lnpy. The vain are always sensitively 
jealous, and Mauleverer, remember- 
ing Clifford, and hacfs blushes in 
dancing with him, instantly accounted 
for her agitation and its cause. With 
a very grave air he approached the 
object of his late adoration, and re- 
quested to know if it were not some 
abrupt intruder that had occasioned 
her alarm. Lucy, scarcely knowing 
what she said, answered in a low 
voice, "That it was, indeed!" and 
begged instantly to rejoin her fiither. 



158 



PAUL CLIFFOBIX 



M auto p are roflhred hi* aim wiOk great 
dignity, tmd tfie pak passed into the 
fim}«BKled iMfft of tke grounds^ ▼here 
Hafalererer eaoe move brigktened into 
nsilea and oonrtesy te aU arouadhim. 

'< fis » MrtMAly aooapMI" nid 
l£r. Slumrd to Lady ^aper. 

^ Whait an inuneiiM mak^ lor tke 
jg^l I * was Lady Simper's reply. 

Amidst the mnsie, tbs danoiag, the 
throng, the noise, Lncy fond it easy 
to reeofw herself; and di sen g a g ing 
her arm from Lerd HanloFerer, as she 
peroeitsedhar&ther, she s^oinisd the 
aqnire, and lemaiBed a patient Hatener 
to his remarks till, late in the noon» 
it became an nndenteed matter that 
people west expected to go into a 
long room in order to eat and drink. 
Ksnleverer, now alive to the dntieB of 
hja aitiaubion, and feeling ezeeedingly 
angry with Imey, was more reoon- 
died than ho otherwiae mi^bt have 
been te the ekguette which obliged 
him to seieet for the objeet of his boo- 
pitable cares aa old dowager daehess, 
instead of the beanty €i Haofite; but 
he tsek eaie to point out to the 
aqnire the plaoes appointed lor him- 
s^ and danghter, n^ch wevei thoogh 
at BomedistonoB from tho earl, nmler 
the proTidenee of his vigilaBt siirey. 

While Maaknrerer waa doi^ping the 
Dowager Dnohess, and refreshing his 
spirits with a chieken* and a modi- 
dnal glaaa of Madeim, tho oma^Yoraa- 
tion near Luey tsmod, to her in&aite 
diamay, npon. -(Miffed. Somo one 
had seen him in the grounds, boote<^ 
and in a riding undress, — (in that day 
people seldom rode and danced in the 
aame oonformatiwa of coat, ) and aa 
Manlev-eEer was a preease peraon abont 
these little matters of etiquetie, this 
noj^igenoe of GLifford^ made quite a 
anj^ect of diaoaBdon. By dagroes the 
oonrenation ehanged into the old 
laqniiyaa to who this Captain Clil^ 
fold waa; and just as it had readued 
that pointy it reached also the gently 
doflifened ears of Lord KauleTerei;: 



"Fr^, my lard," aaid the old 
dnehoas^ "ainoe he ia one ef jonr 
gveats, yon, who know who and what 
ereiy one is, can poasibly inform na of 
tho real fiunilyof this beantifia Mr. 
diioxdr 

^Oneof mygnesti^didyonaay)'^ 
answered ManloYerer, hnitatodgmiiitbr 
boyond hia nsnal quietncM of manner : 
" vaally, yonr gmoe dooa mo wrongs. 
He may be a guest of my rtiht, hot 
ho assaredly is not mine ; and should 
I eneonnter him, I shall learo it to 
my valet togive himhis ooifl aa waU 
aa hia invitation r' 

Manlevenr, hei^^ktening hia r^eo 
aa ho obaenrod atiiwart iie taUeaa 
attexnate paieneaa and 'flnah nfOB 
Lacy'a foee, which stang all thoa»- 
grier paasiomv gonendly tori^d iia 
lum, into Tenom, looked nmy^ om 
concluding, with a hanghly and aan- 
eastie air : so kmd had been his tone^ 
ao pointed the inanlt, and ao dead tho 
itionee at the table while ho spok^ 
Idmt eveiy one folt the affiront muat be 
carried at once to Gliffbrd*a hearing, 
ahonld he be in the room. And aft^ 
ICanlsrerer had oeaaed, there waa aa 
universal nervous and indistinet ox- 
pectotion of an anawer and a scene; 
aU waa atiU, and it soon became oer- 
tain that C!liffi>rd waa not in the 
apartment. When Me. Shrewd had 
fully cMLvineed bims^ of this &ct — 
(for there waa a daring apirit about 
Clifford which few wiahod to draw 
upon tbomselves), — that peraonage 
Iwoke Ihe paose by observing that no 
man, who pretended fto bo a gentlo* 
jDMk, would intrude: himself unasked 
and unwelcome, into any sodely ; and 
Mauleverer, catelung xtp the obeerva- 
tion, aaid-^drinking irino at thooamo 
time with Mr. Shrewd),— that un- 
donbtedly such conduct flaUy justified 
the ramoura respecting Mc. Cliffw4 
and uttedy exeluded him ^m. tbat 
rank to which it waa beforo more 
than suspected ho had no daim. 

So luminous and aatufiKtoiy an 



PAFL GUPJrOfiD. 



109 



opinion from aach an aatkontj, once 
broached, was immediately and uniT€9> 
sally echoed J and, long before the 
repast wsb over, it fieemed to be tacitly 
agreed that Cajptain Clifford ahoiild be 
Bent to Coventry, and if he murmured 
at the exile, he would have no tight 
to inBiat npoa being aent thenoe to 
ibedeviL 

The good old Bquire, mhadfiil of his 
ibrmer friendaUp f(ff Clifford, and not 
■apt to yeer, was about to b^n a Bpe&di 
on the occasion, when Lucy^ touching 
hia arm, implored him to be aiknt; 
and BO ghastly -was the paleness of 
. her cheek while she spoken that the 
aquire's eyes, obtuse as he generally 
was, opened at once to the re^l secret 
oi her heart. As soon aa the trutibi 
flashed upon him, he wondered, re- 
calling Clifford's great personal beauty 
and marhed attentions, that it had not 
flashed upon him sooner ; and leaning 
back on his cbair, he sunk into one 
of the most nnpleaatnt reyeries he had 
«Ter coneeiyed^ 

At a given signal iht mxmc for Ihe 
dancers recommenced, and, at a hint 
te that effect from the host, persons 
rose without ceremony to repair to 
other amusements^ and suffer such 
guests as had hith^^ been excluded 
from eating to occupy the place of ibe 
iglinquishers. Lucy, glad to escape, 
was one of the first to resi^ her 
aituation, and with the squire she re- 
turned to the grounds. During the 
banquet, eyening had closed in, and 
the scene now really became laiiy- 
like and picturesque; — Clamps hung 
from many a tree, reflecting the light 
through the richest and softest hues, 
^-the music ii«elf sounded more mu- 
sically than during the day,— gipsy- 
tents were pitched at wild comers 
and copMs, and the bright wood-fires 
burning in them blazed merrily upon 
the cold yet cheerful air of the in- 
creasing night. The view was really 
novel and inviting; and as it had 
been an understood matter that ladies 



were to bring fum» clonks, and boots, 
all those who thought they looked 
well in such array made little groups, 
and scattered themselves about ^e 
grounds and in the t^iis. They, on 
the contrary, in whom " the purple 
light of loy.e " was apt by the frost to 
be propelled from tiie cheeks to the 
central ornament of the fitoe, or who 
thought a fire in a room quite as 
agreeable as a fire in a tent, remained 
within, and contemplated the scene 
through the open windows. 

Lucy looged to retom homei, nnr 
wafi the squire lehicta&t ; but, unhaj^- 
pUy, it wanted an hour to the time at 
which the carriage had been ordere^^ 
and she medianieaUy joined a group 
of guests, who had persuaded the 
good-natured squire to liMget his gout, 
and venture forth to look at the illn- 
minations. Her party was soon joined 
by others, and the group gradually 
thickened into a crowd ; the throng 
was staliomiry for a few minutes before 
a little temple, m which fireworks had 
just commenced an additional attrac- 
tion to the scene. Opposite to this 
temple, as weii as in its rear, the 
walks and trees had been purposely 
left in comparative darkness, in order 
to heighten the effect of the fire- 
works. 

"I declare," said Lady Simper, 
glancing down one of the alleys whidk 
seemed to stretcSi away into blackness 
— " I declare it seems quite a lover's 
walk ! how kind in Lord Kauleverer t 
— such a delicate attention " 

''To your ladyship!" added Mx. 
Shrewd, with a bow. 

While, one of this crowd, Lucy was 
vacantly eyeing the long trains of 
light which ever and anon shot against 
the sky, she felt her hand suddenly 
seized, and at the same time a voioe 
whispered, " For God's sake, read this 
now and grant my request ! " 

The voice, which seemed to rise 
from the very heart of the H>eaker, 
Lucy knew at once; she trembled 



160 



PAUL CLOTOBD. 



^lenilj, and lemaiiied fot some 
aumites with ejes whieh did not dtf e 
to look from the groiind. A note 
•he fdt had been left in her hand, and 
the agonized and earnest tone of that 
Y<nee, which was dearer to her ear 
than the fulness of all mxmc, made 
her impatient yet afraid to read it. 
As she recoTered eonrage she looked 
around, and seeing that the attention 
of all was bent upon the fireworks, 
and that her fitther, in particular, 
leaning on his cane, seemed to &iicj 
the spectacle with a child's engrossed 
deli|[^ty she glided softly away, and 
entering unperceired one of the alleys, 
•he read, by a solitary lamp that burned 
St its entnmce, the following lines 
written in pencil and in a hurried 
hand, apparently upon a leaf torn 
from a pocket-book : — 

"I implore— I entreat you. Miss 
Brandon, to see me, if but for a 
moment. I purpose to tear myself 
«way from the place in which yon 
reside — ^to go abroad— to leave even 
the spot hallowed by your footstep. 
After this night, my presence, my 
presumption, will degrade you no 
more. But this night, for mercy's 
sake, see me, or I shall go mad ! I 
will but spedc to you one instant: 
this is all I ask. If you grant me this 
prayer, the walk to the left where yon 
stand, at the entrance to which there 
is one purple lamp, will afford an 
opportunity to your mercy. A few 
yards down that walk I will meet you — 
none can see or hear us. Will you grant 
this t I know not — ^I dare not think : 
but under any case, your name shall be 
the last upon my lips. " P. C." 

As Lucy read this hurried scrawl, 
•he glanced towards the lamp above 
her, and saw that she had accidentally 
entered the very walk indicated in 
the note. She paused — she hesitated ; 
—the impropriety — ^the singularity 
of the request, darted upon her at 
onee; on the other hand, the anxious 



voiee still ringing in her ear, the 
incoherent vehemenoe of the note, 
the risk, the opprobrium Cli£fbrd had 
incurred, solely — her heart whispered 
— to see her, all aided her simple 
temper, her kind feelings, and her 
love for the petitioner, in inducing 
her to consent. She cast one glanoe 
behind, — all seemed oecnpied with 
fiur other thoughts than that of notice 
towards her; she looked anxiously 
before, — all looked gloomy and indis- 
tinct; but suddenly, at some little 
distance, she descried a dark figure in 
motion. She felt her knees shake 
under her, her heart beat violently ; 
she moved onward a few paces, again 
paused, and looked back ; the figure 
before her moved as in approach, she 
resumed courage, and advanced — ^the 
figure was by her side. 

" How generous, how condescen ding, 
is this goodness in Miss Brandon !" 
said the voice, which so struggled 
with secret and strong emotion, that 
Lucy scarcely recognized it as Clif- 
ford's. "I did not daro to expect it ; 

and now— now that I meet you " 

Glifibrd paused, as if seeking words ; 
and Luqr, even through the dark, 
perouved that her strange companion 
was powerfully excited; she waited 
for him to continue, but observing 
that he walked on in silence, she 
said, though with a trembling voice, 
"Indeed, Mr. Clifford, I fear that it 
is very, veiy improper in mo to meet 
you thus; nothing but the strong 
expressions in your letter— and— and 
— ^in short, my fear that you meditated 
some desperate design, at which I 
could not guess, caused me to yield to 
your wish for an interview." She 
paused, and Clifford, still preserving 
silence, she added, with some little 
coldness in her tone, ''If you have 
really aught to say to me, you must 
allow me to request that you speak it 
quickly. This interview, you must 
be sensible, ought to end almost as 
soon as it begins." 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



161 



♦'Hear me tten!" said Clifford, 
mastering his embarrassment, and 
speaking in a firm and clear voice — 
*' is that true, which I have but just 
heard, — ^is it true that I have been 
fipoken of in your presence in terms 
of insult and afiront 1" 

It was now for Lucy to feel em- 
barrassed; fearful to give pain, and 
yet anxious that Clifford should know, 
in order that he might disprove, the 
slight and the suspicion which the 
mystery around him drew upon his 
name, she faltered between the two 
feelings, and, without satisfying the 
latter, succeeded in realising the fear 
of the former. 

" Enough !" said Clifford, in a tone 
of deep mortification, as his quick ear 
•caught and interpreted, yet more hu- 
miliatingly than the truth, the mean- 
ing of her stammered and confused 
reply. "Enough! I see that it is 
true, and that the only human being 
in the world to whose good opinion 
I am not indifferent has been a wit- 
ness of the insulting manner in which 
others have dared to speak of me !*' 

"But," said Lucy, eagerly, "why 
give the envious or the idle any ex- 
tsuse 1 Why not suffer your parentage 
and family to be publicly known ^ 
Why are you here " — (and her voice 
«unk into a lower key) — " this very 
day, unasked, and therefore subject to 
the cavils of all who think the poor 
distinction of an invitation an honour? 
Forgive me, Mr. Clifford, perhaps I 
offend, — I hurt you by speaking thus 
frankly; but your good name rests 
with yourself, and your friends cannot 
but feel angry that you should trifle 
with it." 

"Madam !" said Clifford, and Lucy's 
«yes, now growing accustomed to iiie 
diarkness, perceived a bitter smile 
upon his lips, "my name, good or ill, is 
an object of little care to me. I have 
read of philosophers who pride them- 
selves in placing no value in the 
opinions of the world. Bank me 

No. 31. 



among that secfr— but I am, I own I 
am, anxious that you alone, of all the 
world, should not despise me ; — and 
now that I feel you do — that you 
must— eveiy thing worth living or 
hoping for is past!" 

" Despise you !" said Lucy, and her 
eyes filled with tears — "indeed you 
wrong me and yourself. But listen 
to me, Mr. Clifford : I have seen, it 
is true, but little of the world, yet I 
have seen enough to make me wish 
I could have lived in retirement for 
ever ; the rarest quality among either 
sex, though it is the simplest, seems 
to me, good-nature; and the only 
occupation of what are termed fashion- 
able people appears to be speaking ill 
of one another : nothing gives such a 
scope to scandal as mystery ; nothing 
disarms it like openness. I know — 
your friends know, Mr. Clifford, that 
your character can bear inspection; 
and I believe, for my own part, the 
same of your family. Why not, then, 
declare who and what you are T 

"That candour would indeed be 
my best defender," said Clifford, in a 
tone which ran displeasingly through 
Lucy's ear ; " but in truth, ma4am, I 
repeat, I care not one drop of this 
worthless blood what men say of me ; 
that time has passed, and for ever : 
perhaps it never keenly existed for 
me--no matter. I came hither, Miss 
Brandon, not wasting a thought on 
these sickening foolerieiij 0r on the 
hoary idler by whom they are given I 
I came hither, only once more to see 
yon — to hear you speak — to watch you 
move — to tell you — (and the speaker's 
voice trembled, so as to be scarcely 
audible) — to tell yon, if any reason 
for the disclosure offered itself, that I 
have had the boldness — ^the crime to 
love— to love— God ! to adore you ! 
and then to leave you for ever !" 

Pale, trembling, scarcely preserved 
from falling by the tree against which 
she leaned, Lucy listened to this 
abrupt avowal 

M 11 



162 



PAUL CLIPFOKD. 



. " Dare I touch Uiis hand,** eon- 
iinued Clifford, u he knelt and took 
it, timidly and reverently: "you 
know not, you cannot dream, how 
imworthy is he who thus presumes — 
yet, not all unworthy, while he is 
■ensible of so deep, so holy a feeling 
as that which he bears to you. Ood 
bless you. Miss Brandon ! — Lucy, Qod 
bless youl — And if, hereafter, you 
hear me subjected to stUl blacker sus- 
picion, or severer scrutiny, than that 
which I now sustain — if even your 
charity and goodness can find no 
defence for me, — ^if the suspicion 
become certainty, and the scrutiny 
«nd in condemnation, believe, at least, 
that circumstances have carried me 
beyond my nature ; and that under 
fiurer auspices I might have been 
other than I am ! " Lucy's tear dropped 
upon Clifford's hand, as he spoke; 
and while his heart melted within 
l»im as he felt it, and knew his own 
desperate and unredeemed condition, 
he added, — 

" Every one courts you— the proud, 
the rich, the young, the high-bom, 
all are at your feet 1 You will select 
one of that number for your husband : 
may he watch over you as I would 
have done I — ^love you as I do he cam- 
7%at/ Yes, I repeat itl" continued 
Clifford, vehemently, "he cannot/ 
IS one amidst the gay, happy, silken 
crowd of your equals and followers 
can feel for you that single and over- 
mling passion, which makes you to 
me what all combined— country, 
power, wealth, reputation, an honest 
name, peace, common safety, the 
quiet of the common air, alike the 
least blesomg and the greatest — ore 
to all others ! Once more, may God 
in heaven watch over you and pre-, 
serve yon ! I tear myself, on leaving 
you, from all that cheers, or blesses, 
or raises, or might have saved me ! — 
FareweUl" 

The hand which Lucy had relin- 
quished to her strange suitor was 



pressed ardently to his lips, dropped 
in the same instant, and she knew 
that she was once more akme. 

But Clifford, hurrying rapidly 
through the trees, made his mj 
towards the nearest gate which led 
from Lord Mauleverer's domain; 
when he reached it, a crowd of the 
more elderly guests occupied the en- 
trance, and one of these was a lady (tf 
such distinction, that Mauleverer, ia 
spite of his aversion to any super- 
fluous exposure to the night air, had 
obliged himself to conduct her to her 
carriage. He was in a very ill humour 
with this constrained politeness, espe- 
cially as the carriage was very slow in 
relieving him of his charge, when he 
saw, by the lamplight, Clifford passing 
near him, and winning his way to the 
gate. Quite forgetting his woiidly 
prudence which should have made 
him averse to scenes with any one, 
especially with a flying enemy, and a 
man with whom, if he believed aright^ 
little gloiy was to be gained in coI^ 
quest, much less in contest ; and gdIj 
remembering Clifford's rivalship, and 
his own hatred towards him for the 
presumption, Mauleverer, uttering a 
hurried apology to the lady on his 
arm, stepped forward, and, oppomng 
Clifford's progress, said, with a bow H 
tranquil insult, " Pardon me, sir, bat 
is iitki my invitation, or that of one of 
my servants, that you have honoured 
me with your company this day V* 

Clifford's thoughts at the time of 
this interruption were of that nature 
before which all petty misfortunes 
shrink into nothing ; if, therefor^ he 
started for a moment at the earl'a 
address, he betrayed no embarraaa- 
ment in reply, but bowing with on 
air of respeet, and taking no notice of 
the affiront implied in Kaulever^a 
speech, he answered, — 

" Your lordship has only to deign 
a glance at my dress, to see that I 
have not intruded myself on your 
gnrounds with the intention ofclaiining 



PAUL CUFFOBD. 



163 



ywiT hospitality. The fact is, and 
I trmst to your lordship's courtesy to 
admit the exease, that I leave this 
neighbourhood to-morroir, and for 
some length of time. A person whom 
I was very anxions to see before I left 
was one of your lordship's guests ; I 
heard this^ and knew ihat I should 
haye no other opportunity of meeting 
the person in question before my 
departure; and I must now throw 
myself on the well-known politeness 
of Lord Mauleverer, to pardon a free- 
dom originating in a business veiy 
much approaching to a necessity ! " 

Lord Mauleverer's address to Clifford 
had congregated an immediate crowd 
of eager and expectant listeners, but 
so quietly respectful and really gen- 
tlemanlike were Clifford's air.and tone 
in excusing himself, that the whole 
throng were- smitten with a sudden 
disappointment. 

Lord Mauleterer himself, surprised 
by the temper and deportment of the 
Unbidden guest, was at a loss for one 
moment; and Clifford was about to 
take advantage of that moment and 
ijlide away, when Mauleverer, with a 
second bow, more civil than the 
former one, said : 

"I cannot but be happy, sir, that 
my poor place has afforded you any 
convenience; but, if I am not very 
impertinent, will you allow me to 
inquire the name of my guest with 
whom you required a meeting 1 " [ 
' " My lord," said Clifford, drawing 
himself up, and speaking gravely and 
sternly, though still with a certain 
deference — " I need not surely point 
out to your lordship's good sense and 
good feeling,, that your Very question 
implies a doubt, and, consequently, 
'an af&ont, and that the tone of it is 
not such as to justify that concession 
on my part which the fhrther expla- 
nation you require would imply ! " 

Few spoken sarcasms could be so 
bitter as that silent one which Mau- 
leverer could command by a smile, 



and, with this oomplimentaiy expres- 
sion on his thin lips and raised brow, 
the earl answered : '' Sir, I honour 
the skill testified by your reply; it 
must be the result of a profound 
experience in these affiiirs. I wish 
you, sir, a very good night ; and the 
next time you favour me with a visit} 
I am quite sure that your moUves 
for so indulging me will be no less 
creditable to you than at present" 

With these words, Mauleverer 
turned to rejoin his Mr charge. But 
Clifibrd was a man who had seen in a 
short time a great deal of the world, 
and knew tolerably well the theories 
of society, if not the practice of its 
minutiffi; moreover, he was of an 
acute and resolute temper, and these 
properties of mind, natural and ac- 
quired, told him that he was now in . 
a situation in which it had become 
more necessary to defy than to con- 
ciliate. Instead therefore of retiring, 
he walked deliberately up to Mau- 
leverer, and said : 

''My lord, I shaU leave it to the 
judgment of your guests to decide 
whether you have acted the part of a 
nobleman and a gentleman in thus^ 
in your domains, insulting one who 
has given you such explanation of his 
trespass as would Mly excuse him in 
the eyes of all considerate or coiirt> 
ecus persons. I shall also leave it to 
them to decide whether the tone ef 
your inquiry allowed me to give yon 
any &rther apology. But I shall take 
it upon ntffsdf, my lord, to demand 
ftom you an immediate explanoiioa 
of your last speech." 

" Insolent ! " cried Mauleverer, co- 
louring with indignation, and almost 
for the first time in- his life - losing 
absolute command over his temper ; 
*'do you bandy words with meT—- 
Begone, or I shall order my servaats 
to thrust you forth I " 

** Begone, sir ! — ^begone ! " cried se- 
vend voices in echo to Mauleverer, 
firom those persons who deemed it 
M 2 



164 



PAUL CLIPPORD. 



now high time to take part -with the 
powerM. 

Clifford stood his ground, gazing 
around with a look of angry and defy- 
ing contempt, which, joined to his 
athletic frame, his dark and fierce 
eye, and a heavy riding-whip, which, 
as if mechanically, he half raised, 
effectually kept the murmurers from 
proceeding to violence. 

" Poot pretender to breeding and 
to sense t ** said he, disdainfully turn- 
ing to Mauleverer ; " with one touch 
of this whip I could shame you for 
ever, or compel you to descend from 



the level of your nok to that of mine^ 
and the action would be but a mild 
return to your language. But I love 
rather to teach yon than to correct. 
According to my creed, my lord, he 
conquers most in good breeding who 
forbears the most— ^0oorfi enables me 
to forbear l—Adieu!" 

With this, Clifford turned on his 
heel and strode away. A murmur, 
approaching to a groan, from the 
younger or sillier part of the parasiteg 
(the mature and the sensible have no 
extra emotion to throw away), fol- 
lowed him as he disappeared. 



CHAPTER XXn. 



•* Outtaut. Stand, sir, and throw tu that yon have ahoat yoa I 
Vat, Ruffians, forego that rude, uncivil touch I ** 

The Two OmOemem cf T^rwa* 



Oh leaving the scene in which he 
had been so unwelcome a guest, Clif- 
ford hastened to the little inn where 
he had left his horse. He mounted 
and returned to Bath. His thoughts 
were absent, and he unconsciously 
suffered the horse to direct its course 
whither it pleased. This was natu- 
rally towards the nearest halting- 
place which the animal remembered ; 
and this halting-place was at that 
illustrious tavern, in the suburbs of 
the town, in which we have before 
commemorated Clifford's re-election 
to the dignity of chief. It was a 
house of long-established reputation ; 
and here news of any of the absent 
confederates was always to be ob- 
tained. This circumstance, added to 
the excellence of its drink, its ease, 
and the electric chain of early habits, 
rendered it a favourite haunt, even 
despite their present gay and modish 
pursuits, with Tomlinson and Pepper ; 
and here, when Clifford sought the 
pair at unseasonable hours, was he 



for the most part sure to find them. 
As his meditations were interrupted 
by the sudden stopping of his horse 
beneath the well-known sign, Clifford, 
muttering an angiy malediction on 
the animal, spurred it onward in 
the direction of his own home. He 
had already reached the end of the 
streety when his resolution seemed 
to change, and muttexing to him- 
self, '' Ay, I might as well arrange 
this very night for our departure I " 
he turned his horse's head backward, 
and was once more at the tavern 
door. He threw the bridle over an 
iron railing, and knocking with a 
peculiar sound at the door, was soon 
admitted. 

« Are and here ]** asked 

he of the old woman, as he entered, 
mentioning the cant words by which, 
among friends, Tomlinson and Pepper 
were usually Imown. " They are both 
gone on the sharps to-night," replied 
the old lady, lifting her unsnuffed. 
candle to tiie face of the speaker 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



165 



ivithanintaUigentlook; '<OUTer*is 
sleepy^ and the lads will take advan- 
tage of Mb nap." 

" Do you mean/' answered Clifford, 
replying, in the same key, which we 
take the liberty to paraphrase, "that 
they are ont on any actual expe- 
dition)" 

"To be Bure," rejoined the dame. 
" They who lag late on the road may 
want money for supper 1" 

"Ha! which roadl" 

" You are a pretty fellow for cap- 
tain!" rejoined the dame, with a 
good-natured Barcaam in her tone. 
"Why, Captain Gloak, poor fellow! 
knew every turn of his men to a hair, 
and never needed to ask what they 
were about. Ah, he toaa a fellow! 
none of your girl-faced mudgers, who 
make love to ladies, forsooth — a 
pretty woman need not look far for a 
kiss when he was in the room, I 
warrant, however coarse her duds 
might be ; and lauk ! but the captain 
was a senBible man, and liked a cow 
as well as a call" 

"So, sol on the road are theyl" 
cried Clifford, musingly, and without 
heeding the insinuated attack on his 
decorum. " But answer me, what is 
the plan) — ^Be quick." 

" Why," replied the dame, "there's 
some swell cove of a lord gives a 
blow-out to-day, and the lads, dear 
souls ! think to play the queer on 
some straggler." 

Without uttering a word, Clifford 
darted from the house, and was re- 
mounted before the old Udy had time 
to recover her surprise. 

" If you want to see them," cried 
she, as he put spurs to his horse, 
"they ordered me to have supper 

ready at " The horse's hoofs 

drowned the last words of the dame, 
and carefully rebolting the door, and 
muttering an invidious comparison 
between Captain Clifford and Captain 



* The moon. 



Gloak, the good landlady returned to 
those culinary operations destined to 
rejoice the hearts of Tomlinson and 
Pepper. 

Return we ourselves to Lucy. It 
so happened that the squire's carriage 
was the last to arrive ; for the coach- 
man, long uninitiated among the 
shades of Warlock into the dissipation 
of £ishionabIe life, entered on his 
d&mt at Bath, with all the vigorous 
heat of matured passions for the first 
time released, into the festivities of 
the ale-house, and having a. milder 
master than most of his comrades, 
the fear of displeasure was less strong 
in his aurigal bosom than the love of 
companionship; so that during the 
time this gentleman was amusing 
himself, Lucy had ample leisure for 
enjoying all the thousand -and -one 
reports of the scene between Mau- 
leverer and Clifford, which regaled her 
ears. Nevertheless, whatever might 
have been her feelings at these pleasing 
recitals, a certain vague joy predomi- 
nated over all. A man feels but 
slight comparative happiness in being 
loved, if he know that it is in vain. 
But to awoman that simple knowledge 
is sufficient to destroy the memory of 
a thousand distresses, and it is not 
till she has told her heart again and 
again that she is loved, that she will 
even begin to ask if it be in vain. 

It was a partially starlit, yet a dim 
and obscure night, for the moon had 
for the last hour or two been sur- 
rounded by mist and cloud, when at 
length the carriage arrived ; and 
Mauleverer, for the second time that 
evening playing the escort, conducted 
Lucy to the vehicle. Anxious to 
learn if she had seen or been addressed 
by Clifford, the subtle earl, as he led 
her to the gate, dwelt particularly on 
the intrusion of that person, and by 
the trembling of the hand which 
rested on his arm, he drew no deli- 
ciou& omen for his own hopes. " How- 
ever," thought he, "the man goes 



166 



PAUL CLIPFOBD. 



to-morrow, and ihea ihe field will be 
dear; the girl's a child yet, and I 
forgive her folly." And with an air 
of chivalric veneration, Mauleverer 
bowed the object of his pardon into 
her carriage. 

As soon as Lncy felt herself alone 
with her father, the emotions so long 
pent within her forced them^elTes 
into vent, and leaning back against 
the carriage, she wepl^ though in 
silence, tears, burning tears, of swrow, 
Qomfort^ agitation, anxiety. 

The good old sqoire was slow in 
pereeiving his daughter's emotion; 
it would have escaped him altogether, 
if, actuated by a kindly warming of 
the heart towards her, originating in 
his new suspicion of her love for 
CUfibrd, he had not put his arm 
round her neck ; and this unexpected 
caress so entirely unstrung her nerves, 
that Lucy at onee threw herself upon 
her other's breast, and her weeping, 
hitherto so quiet, became distinct and 
audible. 

" Be comforted, my dear, dear 
child l** said the squire, almost af- 
fected to tears himself; and his 
emotion, arousing hfim from his usual 
mental confasion, rendered his words 
less involved and equivocal than they 
were wont to be. "And now I do 
hope that you won't vex yourself; the 
young man is indeed — and^ I do 
assure you, I always thought so— a 
very charming gentleman, there*s no 
denying it. But what can we do? 
You see what they all say of him, and 
it really was — ^we must allow that — 
very improper in him to come with- 
out being asked. Moreover, my 
dearest child, it is very wrong, very 
wrong, indeed, to love any one, and 
not know who he is ; and — ^and — but 
don't cry, my dear love, don't cry so ; 
all will be very well, I am sure—quite 
sure!" 

As he said this, the kind old man 
drew his daughter nearer him, and 
feeling his hand hurt by something 



she wore unseem which pressed againal 
it, he inquired, with seme suEpicioii 
that the love might have proceeded 
to love-gifts^ what it was. 

'' It is my mother^s picture" said 
Laey, Bxmp^, and putting it aside. 

The old squire had loised his wife 
tenderly, and when Lucy made tfai»' 
reply, tJl the fond and waim recoUdo- 
tions of his youth mshed upon him :' 
he thought, too, how earnestly on her 
death-bed that wife had reeomm^ided 
to his vigilant care iheir only child 
now weeping on his bosom; he ra- 
membered how, dwefiing on Uiat 
which to all women seems the grand 
epoch of life, she had said^ ^'Kevcr 
let her affecti<ms be trifled with,-* 
never be persuaded by your ambitious 
brother to make her many idiere c^ 
loves not, or to oppose her, withowt 
strong reason, where she does : thoqgk 
she be but a child now, I know eaioi^ 
of her to feel eonvineed that if erer 
she lovei, she will love too well for her 
own happiness, even with all IhingB 
in her favour." These W(»ds, l^ese 
recollections, joined to the remem- 
brance of the coldnheaiied scheme 9i 
William Brandon, wMeh he had 
allowed hims^ to &Tour, and <^ his 
own supineness towards Lucy's grow- 
ing lovie for Clifford, till resistanoe 
became at once necessary and to« 
late, all smote him with a remorseAd 
sorrow, and £urly sobbing himself, he 
said, " Thy mother, child t ah, woald 
that she were living^ dte would never 
have neglected thee as I have done! " 

The squire's sdif-reproaeh made 
Lucy's tears cease on the mstant, and, 
as she covered her father's hand with 
kisses, she relied only by Tehaneat 
accusations against herself,and praises 
of his too great &therly icmdness and 
affection. This little burst, on both 
sides, of honest and simple-hearted 
love, ended in a silence full of tender 
and mingled thoughts : and as Luey 
still clung to the breast of the M 
man, uncouth as he was in temper, 



PAUL CLIFFOBD. 



Mr 



Mow efren medioeritj in inteiUeety 
and altogether the Uat person in wge, 
or mind, or habit, that seemed fit for 
a confidant in the love of a young and 
enthusiastic giil, she felt the old 
homelj truth, thai under all disad- 
vantages there are^ in this hollow 
world, few in whom trust can be so 
safialy reposed, few who so delicately 
and snbtilely respect the confidence, 
as those firom whom we spring. 

The fitther and daughter had been 
silent for some minutes, and the former 
was abont to speak, when the carriage 
suddenly stopped. The squire heard 
a rough voice at the horses' heads ; he 
looked forth from the window to see, 
trough the mist of the night, what 
«mld possibly be tiie matter, and he 
encountered in tius action, just one 
inch firom his forehead, the protruded 
md shining barrd of a horseipistol. 
We may believe, without a reflection 
en his courage, that Mr. Brandon 
threw himself back into his carriage 
vith all possible despatch ; and at the 
same moment the door was opened, 
and a voice said, not in a threatening, 
but a smooth accent, ''Ladies and 
gentlemen, I am sorry to disturb yon, 
but want is impeiious: oblige me 
with your money, your watches, your 
rings, and any other little comaodi- 
ties of a similar nature ! " 

So delicate a request the squire 
had not the heart to resist, the more 
eapecially as he knew hims^ without 
any weapons of defence; accordingly 
he drew out a purse, not very full it 
nmst be owned, together with an im> 
mense silver hunting-watch, with a 
piece of black riband attached to it : 
« There, sir," said he, with a groan^ 
" don't frighten the young lady." 

The gentle applicant, who indeed 
was no other than the specious Augus- 
tus Tomlinson, slid the purse into his 
waistcoat-pocket, after feelmg its con- 
tents with a rapid and scientific finger. 
" Your watch, sir," quoth he, and as 
he spoke he thrust it carelessly into 



hia eoai^ocket, as a school-hoy would 
thrust a peg-top, "is heavy; but 
trusting to experience, since an aocn- 
rate survey is denied me, I fear it is 
more valuable from its weight than 
its workmanship : however, I will no* 
wound your vanity by affecting to \m 
&stidiouB. But surely the young lady, 
as yon call her,-~{for I pay you the 
compliment of believing your word aa 
to hor age, inasmuch as the night is 
too dark to allow me the happnesS of 
a personal inspeetion,) — ^the young 
lady has surely some little trinket she 
can dispense with; ' Beauty when 
unadorned,' you know, Jcc" 

Lucy, who, though greatly firighi* 
ened, lost neither her senses nor her 
presence of mind, only answered by 
drawing forth a little silk purse, that 
contained still less than the leathern 
convenience of the squire ; to this she 
added a gold chain; and Tomlinson, 
taking them with an alfectionate 
squeeze of the hand, and a polite 
apol<^, was about to withdraw, when 
his sagacious eyes were suddenly 
stricken by the gleam of jewels. The 
fiM$t was, that in altering the position 
of her mother's picture, which had 
been set in the few hereditary dia- 
monds possessed by the Lord of War- 
lock, Lucy had aQowcd it to hang on 
the outside <^ her dress, and bending 
forward to give the robber her other 
possessions, the diamonds at once 
came in full sight, and gleamed the 
more invitingly from the darkness oi 
the night. 

''Ah, madam!" said Tomlinson, 
stretching forth his hand, "you would 
play me fidse, would you 1 Treachery 
should never go unpunished. Favour 
me instantly with the little ornament 
round your neck ! " 

" I cannot — I cannot I* said Lucy, 
grasping her treasure with both her 
hands, — ^"it is mymother^s picture, 
and my mother is dead 1 " 

" The wants of others, madam," 
returned Tomlinson, who could not 



168 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



for the life of him rob immoraUy, 
** are ever more worthy your atten- 
tion thaa&mily prejudices. Serioualy, 
give it, and^hat instantly; we are in 
a hurry, and your horses are plung- 
ing like devils : they will break your 
carriage in an instant— despatch 1 " 

The squire was a braye man on the 
whole, though no hero, and the nerves 
of an old fozhunter soon recover from 
a little alarm. The picture of his 
buried wife was yet more inestimable 
to him than it was to Lucy, and at 
this new demand his spirit was roused 
within him. 

He clenched his fists^ and advancing 
himself, as it were, on his seat, he 
cried in a loud voice : — 

''Begone, fellow! — I have given 
you — ^for my own part I think so— 
too much already; and by G— d you 
shall not have the picture I " 

" Don't force me to use violence 1 ** 
said Augustus, and putting one foot 
on the carriage-step, he brought his 
pistol within a few inches of Lucy's 
breast, rightly judging, perhaps, that 
the show of danger to her would be 
the best method to intimidate the 
squire. At that instant the valorous 
moralist found himself suddenly seized 
with a powerful gripe on the shoulder, 
and a lowwoice, trembling with pas- 
sion, hissed in his ear. Whatever 
might be the words that startled his 
organs, they operated as an instanta- 
neous charm; and to their astonish- 
ment, the squire and Lucy beheld 
their assailant abruptly withdraw. The 
door of the carriage was clapped to, 
and scarcely two minutes had elapsed 
before, the robber having remounted, 
his comrade — (hitherto stationed at 
the horses' heads) — set spurs to his 
own steed, and the welcome sound of 
receding hoofs smote upon the bewil- 
dered ears of the father and daughter. 

The door of the carriage was again 
opened, and a voice, which made Lucy 
paler than the preceding terror, said, — 

'' I fear, Mr. Brandon, the robbers 



have frightened your daughter. There 
is now, however, nothing to fear — the 
ruffians are gone." 

*' God bless me I " said the squire ; 
" why, is that Captain Clifford 1 " 

''It is! and he conceives himself too 
fortunate to have been of the smallest 
service to Mr. and Miss Brandon." 

On having convinced himself that 
it was indeed to Mr. Clifford that he 
owed his safety, as well as that of Ms- 
daughter, whom he believed to have 
been in a &r more imminent peri^ 
than she really was,— (for to tell thee 
the truth, reader, the pistol of Tom- 
linson was rather calculated for show 
than use, having a peculiarly long 
bright barrel with nothing in it,)— - 
the squire was utterly at a loss how te 
express his gratitude; and when he 
turned to Lucy to beg she would her- 
self thank their gallant deliverer, he 
found that, overpowered with various 
emotions, she had, for the first time 
in her life, fSunted away. 

"Qood Heavens ! " cried the alarmed 
&ther, " she is dead, — my Lucy — ^my 
Lucy — ^they have killed her ! " 

To open the door nearest to Lucy, 
to bear her from the carriage in hia 
arms, was to Clifford the work of an 
instant; utterly unconscious of the 
presence of any one else— unconscious- 
even of what he said, he poiired forth, 
a thousand wild, passionate, yet half 
audible expressions ; and as he bore 
her to a bank by the roadside, and, 
seating himself, supported her against 
his bosom, it would be difficult, per- 
haps, to say, whether something of 
delight — of burning and thrilling de- 
light — was not mingled with his 
anxiety and terror. He chafed her 
small hands in his own — ^his breath, 
all trembling and warm, glowed upon 
her cheek, and once, and but once, 
his lips drew nearer, and breathing 
aside the dishevelled richness of her 
tresses, clung in a long and silent 
kiss to her own. 

Meanwhile, by the help of his foot- 



PAUL CLIPFOBD. 



169 



nuui; who liad nowBomewhatrecovered 
his astonished senses, the squire de- 
scended from his carriage, and ap- 
proached with faltering steps the place 
where his daughter reclined. At the 
instant that he took her hand, Lucy 
began to reyive, and the first action, 
in the bewildered unconsciousness of 
awaking, was to throw her ann around 
the neck of her supporter. 

Could all the hours and realities of 
hope, joy, pleasure, in Clifford's pre- 
vious life have been melted down and 
concentrated into a single emotion, 
that emotion would have been but 
tame to the rapture of Lucy*s mo- 
mentary and innocent caress ! And 
at a later, yet no distant, period, when 
in the felon's cell the grim visage of 
Death scowled upon him, it may be 
questioned whether his thoughts dwelt 
not far more often on the remembrance 
of that delightful moment, than on 
the bitterness and ignominy of an 
approaching doom ! 

" She breathes — she moves — she 
wakes 1 " cried the father ; and Lucy, 
attempting to rise, and recognising 
the squire's voice, eaid fiEkintly, ''Thank 
Qod, my dear father, you are not hurt ! 
And are they really gone 1 — ^and where 
— ^where due tee?" 

The squire, relieving Clifford of his 
ehaige, folded his child in his arms, 
while in his own elucidatory manner 
he informed her where she was, and 
with whom. The-lovers stood fauce to 
fiice to each other, but what delicious 
blushes did the night, which concealed 
all but the outUne of their forms, hide 
from the eyes of Clifford ! 

The honest and kind heart of Mr. 
Brandon was glad of a release to the 
indulgent sentiments it had always 
cherished towards the suspected and 
maligned Clifford, and turning now 
from Lucy, it &irly poured itself forth 
upon her deliverer. He grasped him 
warmly by the hand, and insisted upon 
his accompanying them to Bath in 
the carriage, and allowing the footman 



to ride his horse. This offer was still 
pending, when the footman, who had 
been to see after the health and com- 
fort of his fellow-servant, came to 
inform the party in a dolorous accent^ 
of something which, in the confusion 
and darkness of the night, they.had 
not yet learned, — ^namely, that the 
horses and coachman were — gone 1 

" Gone !" said the squire — "gone ! 
— ^why the villains can't — (for my 
part, I never believe, though I have 
heard such wonders of, those sleights 
of hand) — have bagged them !" 

Here a low groan was audible, and 
the footman, sympathetically guided 
to the spot whence it emanated, found 
the huge body of the coachman safely 
deposUed, with its face downward, in 
the middle of the kennel. After this 
worthy had been lifted to his legs, and 
had shaken himself into intelligence, 
it was found that when the robber 
had detained the horses, the coach- 
man, who required very little to con- 
quer his more bellicose faculties, had 
— (he himself said, by a violent blow 
from the ruffian, though, perhaps, the 
cause lay nearei* home)r-quitted the 
coach-box for the kennel, the horsea 
grew frightened, and after plunging 
and rearing till he cared no longer to 
occupy himself with their arrest, the 
highwayman had very quietly cut 
the traces, and by the time present, 
it was not impossible that the horses 
were almost at the door of their stables 
at Bath. 

The footman who had apprised the 
squire of this misfortune was, unlike 
most news-tellers, the first to offer 
consolation. 

"There be an excellent public," 
quoth he, " about a half a mile on, 
where your honour could get horses ; 
or, mayhap, if Miss Lucy, poor heart,, 
be &int, you may like to stop for the 
night." 

Though a walk of half a mile in & 
dark night, and under other circum- 
stances, would not have seemed a 



170 



PAUL CLIFFOID. 



gnMaL ympoMon, j^ at pranai, 
irken the squire's imagiii«tion liad 
01^ pkstored to him the alteinatives 
of pauing the night in the carriage, 
or of orawling on foot to Bsth, it 
aeeiaed but a yery inrngnificant hard- 
ship. And tucking his danghter*B 
wtm under his own, while in a kind 
voice he told Clifford ''to support her 
on the other side/ the squire ordered 
the footman to lead the way with Olif- 
ford's horse, and the coachman to fol- 
low or be d — d, which ever he pleased. 
In silence Cliffixd offered his arm to 
Im^, and silently she accepted the 
oonrteqr. The squire was the only 
talker, and the theme he chose was not 
uBgratefiil to Lucy, for it was the praise 
9i her lover. But Clifibrd ^rcely 
Hstened, for a thousand thoughts and 
ibelings ccmtested within him ; and the 
light touch of Lucy's hand upon his 
arm would alone have been sufficient 
te distract and confixse his attention. 
The darkness of the night, the late 
excitement, the stolen kiss that still 
glowed upon his lips, the remembrance 
of Lucy's flattering agitation in the 
seene with her at Lord Mauleverer's, 
^be yet wann« one of that uncon- 
sdouB unbrace, which still tingled 
through every nerve of his frame, all 
eoBspired with the delicious emotion 
which he now experienced at her 
presence and her contact to intoxicate 
and inflame him. Oh, those burning 
moments in love, when romance has 
just mellowed into passion, and with- 
out losing any thing of its luxurious 
vagueness, mingles the enthusiasm of 
its dreams with ihe ardent desires of 
realily and earth ! That is the exact 
time, when love has reached its highest 
point,— when all feelings, all thoughts, 
the whole soul, and the whole mind, 
are seized and engrossed, — ^when every 
^fficulty weighed in the opposite 
scale seems lighter than dust,— when 
te renounce the object beloved is the 
most deadly and lasting sacrifice, — 
and when in so many breasts, where | 



honour, ooBsdenee, virtne, are flv 
stronger than we can bdieve them 
ever to have been in a criminal l&e 
Clifford, honour, consdenoe, virtne^ 
have perished at once and suddenly 
into ashes before tiiat mighty and 
irresistible fire. 

The serrant, who had had previona 
opportunities of ascertaining the topo- 
graphy of the "public" of which he 
spake, and who was perhaps tolerably 
reconciled to his late terror in the 
anticipation of renewing his intimacy 
with "the spirits of the past," now 
directed the attention of our travellers 
to a small inn just before tiiem. Mine 
host had not jet retired to repose, 
and it was not necessary to knock 
twice before the door was opened. 

A bright fire, an officious land- 
lady, a commiserate landlord, ■ 
warm potation, and the promise of 
excellent beds, all appeared to our 
squire to make ample amends for the 
intelligence that the inn was not 
licensed to let post-horses ; and mine 
host having promised forthwith to 
send two stout fellows, a rope, and s 
cart-horse, to bring the carriage under 
shelter (for the squire valued the 
vehicle because it was twenty yeare 
old), and, moreover, to have the 
harness repaired, and the horses ready 
by an early hour the next day, the 
good humour of Mr. Brandon rose 
into positive Marity. Lucy retired 
under the auspices of the landlady to 
bed, and the squire having drunk 
a bowl of bishop, and <mscovered a 
thousand new virtues in Clifibrd, 
especially that of never interrupting^ 
a good story, clapped the captain oa 
the shoulder, and making him promise 
not to leave the inn till he had seen 
him again, withdrew also to the repose 
of his pillow. Clifford remained be- 
low, gazing abstractedly on the fire 
for some time afterwards ; nor was it 
till the drowsy chambermaid had 
thrice informed him of the prepared 
comforts of his bed, that he adjourned 



PAUL CUFFOKD. 



m 



t0 his chamber. Sren then it aeemB 
that sleep did not visit his eyelids^ for 
a wealthy grazier, who lay in the room 
below, complamed bitterly the next 



morning of some person walking oireiv 
head "in all manner of strides, just 
for all the world like a happarition in 
boots." 



CHAPTER XXIIL 

" FitoZo.— And dost thou love me ? 

Lptander. . . . Love thee, Yiola? 
Do I not fly thee when my helng drinks 
Ucht from thine eyes ?— that flight is an my answer I " 

The Bride, Aot iS., 



Thb curtainmeditationsof the square 
had not been without the produce of 
a resolve. His warm heart at once 
reopened to the liking he had for- 
merly conceived for Clifford ; he 
longed for an opportunity to atone 
for his past unkindness, and to testify 
his pi!eaent gratitude; moreover, he 
fflit at once indignant at, and ashamed 
of, his late conduct in joining the 
popular, and, as he now fully believed, 
the causeless prepossession against his 
young friend, and before a more 
present and a stronger sentiment his 
habitual deiSerenee for his brather's 
counsels £^ed easily away. Coupled 
with these Dsivourable feeliuga towiurds 
Clifford were his sagacious suspicions, 
or rather certainty, of Lucy's attach- 
ment to her handsome deliverer ; and 
he had at least sufficient penetration 
to perceive that she was not likely to 
love him the less for the night's 
adventure. To all this was added the 
tender recollection of his wife's parting 
words; and the tears and tell-tale 
agitation of Lucy in the carriage were 
sufficient to his simple mind, which 
knew not how lightly maiden's tears 
are shed and dried, to confirm the 
prediction of the dear deceased. 'Sot 
were the squire's more generous and 
kindly feelings utterly unmixed with 
selfish considerations. Prcmd, but 
not the least arnbitious, he was always 
more ready to confer an honour than 



receive (me, and at heart he was 
secretly glad at the notion of ex- 
changing, as a son-in-law, the polished 
and unfcmuliar Mauleverer for the 
agreeable and social CHffbrd. Such, 
in '' admired disonler,'' w^e the 
thoughts which rolled through the 
teeming brain of Joseph Brandon, 
and b^bre he had turned on his le£t 
sidei, which he always did preparatory 
to Burrendmng himself to slumber, 
the squire had fiiUy come to a deier- 
mination most &tal to the sehemes 
of the lawyer and the hopea <^ the 
earl. 

The next monung^ as Luej was 
knitting 

•< The loose train of her amher-dropping 
hair" 

before the little mirror of her cham- 
ber, which even through its dimmed 
and darkened glass gave back a £iica 
which might have shamed a Greciaa 
vision of Aurora^ a gentle tap at her 
door announced her father. Thera 
was in his rosy and comely counte- 
nance that expression generally cha* 
racteristic of a man pleased with 
himself, and persuaded that he is 
about to give pleasure. 

"My dear child," said the squire, 
fondly stroking down the luxuriance 
of his Lucy's hair, and kissing her 
damask cheek, " I am come to have 
some little conversation with you : sit 



172 



PAUL CUFFORD. 



down now, and (for mj pttrt> I love to 
talk at my ease; and, by the by, shut 
the window, my Ioto, it ia an eaateriy 
wind) I wiah that we may come to a 
dear and distinct nnderstanding. 
Hem ! — gire me yoor hand, my child, 
^I think on these matters one can 
scarcely speak too precisely and to 
the purpose; although I am well 
aware— <for, for my own part, I always 
wish to act to ereiy one, to yon espe- 
cially, my dearest child, with the 
greatest consideration) — ^that we most 
go to work with as mnch delicacy as 
* conciseness. Ton know this Captain 
Clifford, — 'tis a brave yonth, is it 
noti — well — nay, never blnsh bo 
deeply, there is nothing (for ia these 
matters one can't have all one's wishes, 
— one can't have evtryOdrtg) U> he 
ashamed of I Tell me now, child, 
dost think he let in love with thee ?" 

If Lncy did not immediately answer 
by word% her pretty lips moved as if 
she could readily reply ; and, finally, 
they settled into bo sweet and so 
assured a smile, that the squire, fond 
as he was of "precise" information, 
was in want of no fuller answer to his 
question. 

"Ay, ay, young lady," said he, 
looking at her with all a fiither's 
affection, ''I see how it is. And, 
come now, — ^what do you turn away 
for? Dost think if, as I believe, 
though there are envious persons in 
the world, as there always are when a 
man 's handsome, or clever, or brave ; 
though, by the way, which is a very 
droll thing in my eyes, they don't 
envy, at least not ill-naturedly, a man 
for being a lord, or rich ; but, quite 
on the contrary, rank and money 
seem to make them think one has all 
the cardinal virtues. Humph! — If, 
I say, this Mr. Clifford should turn 
out to be a gentleman of £umly, — ^for 
you know that is essential, since the 
Brandons have, as my brother has 
probably told you, been a great race 
many centuries ago ; — dost think, my 



duld, that thon coddai give np (the 
cat is out of the bag) this old lord, 
and marry a simple gentleman ?* 

The hand which the squire 1» ^ 
held was now with an arch tendemeas 
applied to his month, and when he 
again seized it Lucy hid her g^owin^ 
Cmc iu his bosom; and it was only by 
a whisper, as if the veiy air was gar- 
rulous, that he could draw forth (for 
now he insisted on a verbal reply) her 
happy answer. 

We are not afiraid that our reader 
will bhune us for not detailing the 
rest of the interview between the 
fihther and daughter : it did not last 
above an hour longer ; for the squire 
declared that, for his own part, he 
hated more words than were neces- 
sary. Mr. Brandon was the first to 
! descend to the breakfast, muttering 
las he descended the stairs, "Well 
now, hang me if I am not glad that 'a 
off (for I do not like to think much 
of so uUy a matter) my mind. And 
as for my brother, I sha'n't tell him 
till it 's all over and settled. And if 
he is angiy, he and the old lord may, 
though I don't mean to be unbrotherly^ 
go to the devil together ! " 

When the three were assembled at 
the break&st-table, there could not, 
perhaps, have been found any where 
a stronger contrast than that which 
the radiant fiice of Lucy bore to the 
haggard and worn expression that 
disfigured the handsome features ot 
her lover. So marked was the change 
that one night seemed to have wrought 
upon Clifford, that even the squire 
was startled and alarmed at it. But 
Lucy, whose iunocent vanity pleased 
itself with accounting for the altera- 
tion, consoled herself with the hope 
of soon witnessing a very different 
expression on the countenance of her 
lover ; and though she was silent, and 
her happiness lay quiet and deep 
within her, yet in her eyes and lip 
there was that which seemed to Clif- 
ford an insult to his own misery, and 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



175 



Etmig him to the heart. However, 
he exerted himself to meet the con- 
Tersation of the squire, and to mask 
as well as he was able the evidenoe of 
the conflict which still raged within 
him. 

The morning was wet and gloomy ; 
it was that drizzling and misty rain 
which is so especially nutritious to 
the growth of blue devils, and the 
jolly squire failed not to rally his 
young friend upon his feminine sus- 
ceptibility to the influences of the 
■weather. Cliflford replied jestingly, 
and the jest, if bad, was good enough 
to content the railer. In this facetious 
manner passed the time, till Lucy, at 
the request of her father, left the 
room to prepare for their return 
home. 

Drawing his chair near to Clifford's, 
the squire then commenced in real 
and affectionate earnest his operations 
— ^these he had already planned — ^in 
the following order : they were, first, 
to inquire into, and to learn, Clifford's 
rank, family, and prospects ; secondly, 
having ascertained the proprieties of 
the outer man, they were to examine 
the state of the inner one ; and, thirdly, 
should our skilful inquirer find his 
guesses at Clifford's affection for Lucy 
confirmed, they were to expel the 
modest fear of a repulse, which the 
squire allowed was natural enough, 
and to lead the object of the inquiry 
to a knowledge of the happiness that, 
Lucy consenting, might be in store 
for him. While, with his wonted 
ingenuity, the squire was pursuing 
his benevolent designs, Lucy remained 
in her own room, in such meditation 
and such dreams as were natural to a 
heart so sanguine and enthusiastic. 

She had been more than half-an- 
hour alone, when the chambermaid of 
the hostelry knocked at her door, and 
delivered a message from the squire, 
begging her to come down to him in 
the parlour. With a heart that beat 
60 violently it almost seemed to wear 



away its very life, Lucy slowly, and 
with tremulous steps, descended to 
the parlour. On opening the door 
she saw Clifford standing in the 
recess of the window : his face was 
partly turned from her, and his eyes 
downcast. The good old squire sat in 
an elbow-chair, and a sort of puzzled 
and half-satisfied complacency gave 
expression to his features. 

"Come hither, chUd," said he, 
clearing his throat; " Captain Clifford 
— a-hem ! — has done you the honour 
— ^to — ^and I dare say you will be very 
much surprised — not that, for my 
own part, I think there is much to 
wonder at in it, but such may be my 
partial opinion (and it is certainly 
very TicUural in me) — to make you a 
declaration of love. He declares, 
moreover, that he is the most miser- 
able of men, and that he would die 
sooner than have the presumption to 
hope. Therefore you see, my love, I 
have sent for you, to give him per- 
mission to destroy himself in any way 
he pleases ; and I leave him to show 
cause why (it is a fate that sooner or 
later happens to all his fellow-men) 
sentence of death should not be passed 
against him." Having delivered this 
speech with more propriety of word 
than usually fell to his share, the 
squire rose hastily and hobbled out of 
the room. 

Lucy sank into the chidr her &ther 
had quitted, and Clifford, approaching 
towards her, said, in a hoarse and low 
voice, — 

" Your father. Miss Brandon, says 
rightly, that I would die rather than, 
lift my eyes in hope to you. I thought 
yesterday that I had seen yon for the 
last time ; chance, not my own folly 
or presumption, has brought me again 
before you ; and even the few hours I 
have passed under the same roof with 
you have made me feel as if my love 
— ^my madness — had never reached 
its height till now. Oh, Lucy I" con- 
tinued Clifford, in a more impassioned 



174 



PAUL CLIFFOKD. 



tone, and, as if by a sndden and irre- 
sistible impulse, throwing himself at 
her feet ; '* if I oovid hope to merit 
yon— if I could hope to raise myself 
—if I could— bnt no— no— no I lam 
cut off from all hope, and for ever 1 " 

There was so deep, so bitter, so 
heartfelt an anguish and remorse in 
the voice with which these last words 
were spoken, that Lucy, hurried off 
her guard, and forgetting erery thing 
in wondering sympathy and oompas- 
sion, answered, extending her hand 
towards Clifford, who, still kneeling, 
seized and covered it with kisses of 
fire, — 

" Do not speak thus, Mr. Clifford ; 
do not accuse yourself of what I am 
sure, quite sure, you cannot deserve. 
Perhaps, — forgave me, — ^your birth, 
your fortune, are beneath your merits ; 
and you have penetrated into my 
fiither's weakness on the former point ; 
or, perhaps, you yourself have not 
avoided all the err<»B into which men 
are hurried ; perhaps you have been 
imprudent or thoughtless; perhaps 
you have (fashion is conta^ous) played 
beyond your means, or incurred debts : 
these are £iults, it is true, and to be 
regretted, yet not surely irreparable." 

For that instant can it be wondered 
that «n Clifford's resolution and self- 
denjal deserted him, and lifting his 
eyes, radiant with joy and gratitude, 
te the face which bent in benevolent 
mnocenee towards him, he exclaimed, 
^ No, Miss Brandon \ — ^no, Lucy ! — 
dear, angel Lucy ! — ^my faults are less 
venial th^n these, but p^haps they 
are no less the consequence of circum- 
stances and eonta^on; perhaps it 
may not be too late to repair them. 
Vould you — ^you indeed deign to be 
my guardian, I might not despair of 
beiaKg saved ! " 

•^If," said Lucy, Wushlng deeply, 
and looking down, while she spoke 
quick and eagerly, as if ta avoid hum- 
bling him by her offer, — "if, Mr. 
Clifforcl, the want of weaHh has m any 



way occasioned you unea^ess, 
or error, do believe me — ^I mean i 
so much your friends as not f(N- an 
instant to scruple in relieving ns of 
some little portion of onr last nights 
debt to you.** 

"Dear, noble girl r said Cllflbrd, 
while there writhed up<»i his lips one 
of those smiles of powerful sarcasm 
that sometimes distorted his featares, 
and thrillingly impressed upon lAey 
a resemblance to one very differoit 
in reputation and character to bo: 
lover, — " Do not attribute my ra^aSxat- 
tunes to BO petty a source ; it is nM 
money that I shall want while I live, 
though I shall to my last breath 
remember this delicacy in yon, snd 
compare it with certain base remei&- 
brances in my own mind. Tea I all 
past thoughts and recollections will 
make me hereafter worship you even 
more than I do now ; while in yonr 
heart they will — unless Heaven grant 
me one prayer— make you scom and 
detest me ! " 

**¥oT mercy's sake do not speak 
thus ! " said Lucy, gazing in indift- 
tinct alarm upon the dark and work- 
ing features of her lover. "ScorBy 
detest, you ! impossible ! How conid 
I, after the remembrance of last 
night r* 

"Ay! of hifit night," said Clifforf, 
speaking through his ground teeth : 
" there is much in that lemembrance 
to live long in both of us : but you-^ 
you — ^foir angel (and all harshnesB 
and irony vanishing at once .from his 
voice and countenance, yielded to a 
tender and deep sadness, mingled 
with a respeet that bordered on 
reverence), — ** you never oocdd have 
dreamed of more than pity fbr <»ie 
like me, — ^you never could have 
stored from your high and dazding 
purity to know fbr me one soeh 
thought as that which bums at my 
heart for you, — ^you — yes, withdisw 
your hand, I am not worthy to touch 
it!" And dasj^ his own hands 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



:175 



before his face, he became abruptly 
silent; but his enootions were but ill 
concealed, and Lucy saw the muscular 
frame before her heaved and con- 
Tulsed by passions whkh were more 
intense and rending because it was 
only for a few moments that they 
conquered his self-will and struggled 
into vent. 

If afterwards, — but Umg afterwards, 
Lucy recalling the mystery of his words, 
confessed to herself that they be- 
trayed guilt, she was then too much 
affected to think of any thing but her 
love and his emotion. She bent down, 
and with a girlish and fond self-aban- 
donment, which none could have 
resisted, placed both her hands on 
his : Clifford started, looked up, and 
in the next moment he had clasped 
her to his heart ; and while the (mly 
tears he had shed since his career of 
crime fell fsa&i and hot upon her coun- 
tenance, he kissed her forehead, her 
cheek, her lips, in a passionate and 
wild transport. His voice died within 
him, he could not trust himself to 
speak ; only one thought, even in that 
seeming forgetfalnesB of her and of 
himself, stirred and spoke at his breast 
—fligld. The more he felt he loTcd, — 
the more tender and the more confid- 
ing the object of his h^ve, the more 
urgent became the necessity to leave 
her. All other duties had been neg- 
lected, but he loved with a real love; 
and love, which taught him one duty, 
hwe him trimnphimtly through its 
bitter ordeaL 

" You will hear from me to-night," 
he muttered ; '* believe that I am 
mad, accursed, criminal, but ^ot 
utterly a monster I I ask no more 
mercifid opinion ! " He drew himself 
from his perilous position, andaiMrupUy 
4eparted. 

Whezl Clifford reached his home, 
iie found his worthy coadjutors wait- 
ing far hiiQ with alarm and terror on 
their countenances. An old feat, in 
which they had ngnaUsed themselv.s. 



had long attracted the rigid attention 
of the police, and certain <^oers had 
now been seen at Bath, and certain 
inquiries had been set on foot, which 
portended no good to the safety of 
the sagacious Tomlinson and the 
valorous Pepper. They came, humbly 
and penitentially demanding pardea 
for their unconscious aggression (^the 
squire's carriage, and entreating their 
captain's instant advice. If Clifford 
had before wavered in his disinte- 
rested determinaticm, — ^if visions of 
Lucy, of happiness, and reform, had 
floated in his solitary ride too fre- 
quently and too glowingly before his 
eyes, the sight of these men, their 
conversation, their danger, all sufficed 
to restore his resolution. ** Merciful 
God ! " thought he,' <'and is it to the 
comrade of such lawless villains, to a 
man, like them, exposed hourly te 
the most ignominious of deaths, thai 
I have for one section of a moment 
dreamed of consigning the innocent 
and generous girl, whose trust or love 
is the only crime that could deprive 
her of the most brilliant destiny V 

Short were Clifford's instructions to 
his followers, and so much do we do 
mechanically, that they were delivered 
with his usual forethought and pre- 
cision. " You will leave the town 
instantly ; go not, for your lives, to 
London, or to rejoin any of your 
comrades. Bide for the Bed Cave; 
provisions are stored there, and, 
since our late alteration of the inte* 
rior, it will afford ample room te 
conceal your horses. On the night of 
the second day from this I will join 
you. But be sure that you enter the 
cave at night, and quit it upon no 
account till I come ! " 

" Yes ! " said he, when he was aLooA^ 
" I will join you again, but only to 
quit you. One more offence against 
the law, or at least one sum wrested 
from the swollen hands of the rich 
sufficient to equip me for a foreign 
army, aiod I quit the country of my 



176 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



birth and my crimes. If I camiot 
deserve Lacy Brandon^ I wOl be some- 
what less nnworthy. Perhaps (why 
not?) I am young, my nerves are not 
weak, my brain is not dnll ; perhaps 
I may in some field of honourable 
adventure win a name, that before 
my death-bed I may not blush to 
acknowledge to her ! " 

While this resolve beat high within 
Clifford's breast, Lucy sadly and in 
silence was continuing with the squire 
her short journey to Bath. The latter 
was very inquisitive to know why 
Clifford had gone, and what he had 
«vowed; and Lucy, scarcely able to 
answer, threw every thing on the 
promised letter of the night. 

" I am glad," muttered the squire 
to her, *' that he is going to write ; 
for, somehow or other, though I ques- 
tioned him very tightly, he slipped 
through my cross-examination, and 
bursting out at once as to his love for 
you, left me as wise about himself as I 
was before; no doubt (for my own 
part I don't see what should prevent 
his being a great man irbcog.) this 
letter will explain all ! " 

Late that night the letter came; 
Lucy, fortunately for her, was alone in 
her own room ; she opened it, and 
read as follows : — 

Clifford's letter. 
'* I have promised to write to you, 
and I sit down to perform that pro- 
mise. At this moment the recollec- 
tion of your goodness, your generous 
consideration, is warm within me ; and 
while I must choose calm and common 
words to express what I ought to say, 
my heart is alternately melted and 
torn by thoughts which would ask 
words, oh how different f Your father 
has questioned me often of my parent- 
age and birth, — I have hitherto eluded 
his interrogatories. Learn now who I 
am. In a wretched abode, surrounded 
by the inhabitants of poverty and 
vice, I recall my earliest recollections. 



My &ther is unknown to me as to 
every one ; my mother, to you I dare 
not mention who or what she was, — 
she died in my in&ncy. Without a 
name, but not without an inheritance 
(my inheritance was large — ^it was 
in^myf), I was thrown upon the 
world : I had received by accident 
some education, and imbibed some 
ideas, not natural to my situation; 
since then I have played many parts 
in life : books and men I have not so 
neglected, but that I have gleaned at 
intervals some little knowledge from 
both. Hence, if I have seemed to 
yon better than I am, you wiU per- 
ceive the cause : circumstances made 
me soon my own master ; they made 
me also one whom honest men do not 
love to look upon; my deeds have 
been, and my character is, of a par 
with my birth and my fortunes. I 
came, in the noble hope to raise and 
redeem myself by gilding my fiite with 
a wealthy marriage, to this city : I 
saw you, whom I had once before 
met I heard you were rich. Hate 
me. Miss Brandon, hate me ! — I re- 
solved to make your ruin the cause of 
my redefuption. Happily for you, I 
scarcely knew you before I loved you ; 
that love deepened, — ^it caught some- 
thing pure and elevated from yourself. 
My resolution forsook me ; even now 
I could throw myself on my knees 
and thank God that you — ^you, dearest 
and noblest of human beings — are 
not my wife. Now, is my conduct 
clear to you? — If not, imagine me all 
that is villanous, save in one point, 
where you are concerned, and not a 
shadow of mystery will remain. Your 
kind father, over-rating the paltrf 
service I rendered you, would have 
consented to submit my fate to your 
decision. I blush indignantly for 
him — ^for you — ^that any living man 
should have dreamed of such profana- 
tion for Miss Brandon. Yet I myself 
was carried away and intoxicated bj 
BO sudden and so soft a hope— ^ven I 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



177 



dared to lift my eyes to yon, to press 
yoa to this guilty heart, to forget my- 
self, and to dream that you might be 
mine 1 . Can you forgive me for this 
madness 1 And hereafter, when in 
your lofty and glittering sphere of 
wedded happiness, can you remember 
my presumption and check your 
scorn t Perhaps yon think that by 
so kOe a confession I have already 
deceived you. Alas I you know not 
what it costs me now to confess ! I 
had only one hope in life, — ^It was 
that you might still, long after you 
had c^ised to see me, &ncy me not 
utterly beneath the herd with whom 
you live. TMs burning yet selfish 
vanity I tear from me, and now I go 
where no hope can pursue me. Ko 
hope for myself, save one which can 
scarcely deserve the name, for it is 
rather a rude and visionary wish than 
an expectation : — it is, that under 
another name, and under different 
auspices, you may hear of me at some 
distant time; and when I apprise you 
that under that name you may recog- 
nise one who loves you better than all 
created things, you may feel then, at 
least, no cause for shame at your 
lover. YThat will you be theni A 
happy wife— a mother — ^the centre of 
a thousand joys — ^beloved, admired — 
blest when the eye sees you and the 
ear hears ! And this is what I ought 
to hope ; this is the consoUition that 
ought to cheer me ; — perhaps a little 
time hence it will. Kot that I shall 
love yon less; but that I shall love 
you less bumingly, and therefore less 
selfishly. I have now written to you 
all that it becomes you to receive from 
me. Hy horse waits below to bear 
me from this city, and for ever from 
your vicinity. For ever I — ay, you 
are the only blessing for ever for- 
bidden me. Wealth I may gain — ^a 
fiur name— even glory I may perhaps 
aspire to! — ^to Heaven itself I may 
find a path; but of you my very 



a hope. I do not say, if yon could 
pierce my soul while I write that you 
would pity me. You may think it 
strange, but I would not have your 
pity for worlds ; I think I would even 
rather have your hate, pity seems so 
much like contempt. But if yoa 
knew what an effort has enabled me 
to tame down my language, to curb 
my thoughts, to prevent me from 
embodying that which now makes 
my brain whirl, and my hand feel as 
if the living fire consumed it ; if you 
knew what has enabled me to triumph 
over the madness at my heart, and 
spare you what, if writ or spoken, 
would seem like the ravings of in- 
sanity, you would not, and you could 
not, despise me, though you might 
abhor. 

"And now. Heaven guard and 
bless you I Nothing on earth could 
injure you. And even the wicked 
who have looked upon you learn to 
pray — I have prayed for you I " 



Thus (abrupt and signatureless) 
ended the expected letter. Lucy came 
down the next morning at her usual 
hour, and, except that she was very 
pale, nothing in her appearance seemed 
to announce past grief or emotion. 
The squire asked her if she had 
received the promised letter? She 
answered in a clear, though faint 
voice, that she had— that Mr. Clifford 
had confessed himself of too low an 
origin to hope for marriage with Mr. 
Brandon's fiunily; that she trusted 
the squire would keep his secret; and 
that the subject might never again be 
alluded to by either. K, in this speech, 
there was something alien to Lucy's 
ingenuous character, and painfid to 
her mind, she felt it, as it were, 
a duty to her former lover not to 
betray the whole of that confession so 
bitterly wrung from him. Perhaps, 
too, there was in that letter a charm 
I which seemed to her too sacred to be 



dreams cannot give me the shadow of] revealed to any one. And mysteries 
No. 32. K 12 



178 



PAUL CLIPFOED. 



▼ere not excluded even from & lore 
BO ill-placed, and seemingly ao imm- 
tory, as hers. 

Lucy's answer touched the squire 
in his weak point. **A. man of de- 
cidedly low origin/' he confessed, 
''was utterly out of the questiim; 
nevertheless the young man showed 
a great deal of candour in his dis- 
closure." He readily promised never 
to broach a subject necessarily so un- 
pleasant ; and though he sighed as he 
finished his speech, yet the extreme 



quiet of Lucy's manner reassured 
him ; and when he perceived that she 
resumed, though languidly, her wonted 
avocatians, he felt but little doubt of 
her soon overcoming the remembrance 
of what, he hoped, was but a girlish 
and fleetdng fiuM^. He yielded, with 
avidity, to her proposal to return to 
Warlock; and in the same week as 
that in which Lucy had received her 
lover's mysterious letter, the father 
anddaught^ o<»amenced their Journey 
home. 



CHAPTER XXIT. 



"Butler. What are tbese, sir? 
Teoman, And of what nature— to what ase f 
Latroe* Ima^lae." ne Tr<^fedp ^ RoB^, 

" Q^iekl|f, He '■ in Axthnr's bosom, if wer man went to Arthur's bosom.**— fTmty r. 

Thb stream of our narrative now 
conducts us back to William Brandon. 
The law- promotions previously in- 
tended were completed ; and, to the 
flurprise of the public, the envied 
barrister, undergoing the degradation 
of knighthood, had, at the time we 
return to him^ just changed his toil- 
gome occupatians lor the serene dig- 
nity of the bench. Whatever regret 
this wily and aspiring schemer might 
otherwise have felt at an elevation 
considerably less distinguished than he 
might reasonably have expected, was 
entirely removed by the hopes afforded 
to him of a speedy translation to a 
more brilliant office : it was whispered 
among those not unlikely to foresee 
such events, that the Interest of the 
government required his talents in 
the house of peers. Just at this 
moment, too, the fell disease, whose 
ravages Brandon endeavoured* as jesir 
lously as possible, to hide from the 
)public, had appeared suddenly to 
yield to the skill of a new physician ; 
and by the admi43istifttioa of medi- 



which a man less stem or 
resolute might have trembled to adopt 
(so powerful, and for the most part, 
deadly was their nature), he passed 
from a state of almost insufferable 
torture to an ely^um of tranquillity 
and ease : perhaps, however, the 
medicines which altered also decayed 
his constitution: and it was observ- 
able, that in two eases, where the 
physician had attained a like success 
by the same means, the pati^its had 
died suddenly, exactly at the time 
when their cure seemed to be finally 
completed. However, Sir William 
Brandon appeared very little antici- 
patlve of dang^. His manner became 
more cheerful and even than it had 
ever been before ; there was a certain 
lightness in his gait, a certain exhila- 
ration in his vdce and eye, which 
seemed the tok^os of one from whom 
a heavy burden had been suddenly 
raised, and who was no longer pre- 
vented from the eag^ness of h(^ by 
the engrossing claims <^ a bodily 
pain. He had always be^i bland in 



PAUL CUPPOBD. 



ir» 



tM>ciety, but now liia ooiurtesj breathed 
less of artifioe,— it took a more hearty 
tone. Another alteration was di»- 
cemible in him^ and that was precisely 
the reyerse of what mi^ht hare been 
expected. He became more ihr\ftiy 
— ^more attentive to the expenses of 
life than he had been. Though a 
despiser of show and ostentation, and 
fiur too hard to be luxurious, he was 
too scientific an architect of the 
weaknesses of others not to have 
maintained during his public career 
an opulent appearance and a hospit- 
able table. The profession he had 
adopted requires, i>erhaps, less of 
externals to aid it than any other; 
still Brandon had affected to preserve 
parliamentaiy as well as legal import- 
ance ; and, though his house was 
fiituated in a quarter entirely profes^ 
aional, he had been aoenstomed to 
assemble around his hospitable board 
All who were eminent^ in his political 
party, for rank or for talent. Now, 
however, when hospitality, and a 
certain largeness of expenses, better 
became his station, he grew closer 
and more exact in his economy. 
Brandon never could have degene- 
rated into a miser ; money, to one so 
habitually wise aa he was, could never 
have passed from means into an 
object; but he had, evidently, for 
Bome cause or another, fonned the 
resolution to save. Some said it was 
the result of returning health, and 
the hope of a prolonged life, to which 
many objects for which wealth is 
desirable might occur. Bat when it 
was accidentally ascertained that Bran- 
don had been making several inquiries 
respecting a large estate in the neigh- 
bourhood of Warlock, formerly in the 
possession of his funily, the gossips 
(for Brandon was a man to be gossiped 
about) were no longer in want of a 
motive, &lse or real, for the judge's 
thrift. 

It was shortly after his elevation to 
the bench, and ere these ^igas of 



change had become noticeable, thai 
the same strange ragamuffin whom 
we have mentioned before, aa intro- 
duced by Mr. Swoppem to a private 
conference with Brandon, waaadmitted 
to the judge's presence. 

" Well," said Brandon, impatiently, 
the moment the door was closed, 
''your news r 

"Vy, your onor," said the man, 
bashfully, twirling a thing that stood 
proxy for a hat, "I thinks as ow I 
shall be hable to satisfy your vorship's 
onor." Then approaching the judge, 
and assuming an important air, he 
whispered, — 

"'Tis as owl thought!* 

''My God!" cried Brandon, with 
vehemence. " And he is alive 1 — and 
wh^^V 

" I believes," answered the seemly 
cmifidant of Sir William Brandon, 
" that he be 's alive ; and if he be 's 
alive, may I flash my ivories in a 
glass case, if I does not ferret him 
out ; but as to saying vhere he be at 
this nick o' the moment, smash me if 
lean!" 

" Is he in this country V said Bran* 
don ; "or do you believe that he has 
gone abroad r « 

" Yy, much of one and not a little 
of the other!" said the euphonious 
confidant. 

"How! speak plain, man— what do 
you mean V 

"Vy, I means, your onor, that I 
can't say vhere he is." 

"And this," said Brandon, with a 
muttered oath, — ** this is your boasted 
news, is it 1 Dog ! damned, damned 
dog t if you trifle with me, or play me 
false, I will hang yoii,-^by the living 

a-,iwiU!" 

The man shrunk back invohmtarily 
from Brandon's vindictive forehei^ 
and kindled eyes ; but with the oon- 
ning peculiar to low vice answered, 
though in an humbler tone, — 

"And vot good vill that do yovt 
ODor f If so be as ow you scrags I, 
N 2 



180 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



Till that put your Torship in the vay 
of finding A«r 

Never was there an obstacle in 
grammar through which a sturdy 
truth could not break ; and Brandon, 
after a moody pause, said in a milder 
voice, — " I did not mean to frighten 
you ! Kerer mind what I said ; but 
you can surely guess whereabouts he 
is, or what means of life he pursues ? 
perhaps " — and a - momentary pale- 
ness crossed Brandon's swarthy yisage : 
— "perhaps he may have been driven 
into dishonesty in order to maintain 
himself!" 

The informant replied with great 
nafveti, that " such a thing was not 
mnpossible ! " And Brandon then 
entered . into a series of seemingly 
careless but artful cross-questionings, 
which either the ignorance or the craft 
of the man enabled him to baffle. After 
some time, Brandon, disappointed and 
dissatisfied, gave up his professional 
task ; and, bestowing on the man many 
sagacious and minute instructions, as 
well as a very liberal donation, he was 
forced to dismiss his mysterious visitor, 
and to content himself with an assured 
assertion, that if the object of his in- 
quiries should not already be gone to 
the devil, the strange gentleman em- 
ployed to discover him would cer- 
tainly, sooner or later, bring him to 
the judge. 

This assertion, and the interview 
preceding it, certainly inspired Sir 
William Brandon with a feeling like 
complacency, although it was mingled 
with a considerable alloy. 

" I do not,'' thought he, concluding 
hiB meditaUons when he was left 
alone, — ''I do not see what else I 
can do ! Since it appears that the 
boy had not even a name when he 
eet out alone from his wretched abode, 
I fear that an advertisement would 
have but little chance of even desig- 
nating, much less of finding him, after 
80 long an absence. Besides, it might 
xnake me the prey to impostors; and, 



in all probability, he has either left 
the country, or adopted some mode of 
living which would prevent his daring 
to disclose himself 1" This thought 
plunged the soliloquist into a gloomy 
abstraction, which lasted several mi- 
nutes, and from which he started, 
muttering aloud, — 

" Yes, yes I I dare to believe, to 
hope it. — ^Now for the minister, and 
the peerage ! " And from that time 
the root of Sir William Brandon's 
ambition spread with a firmer and 
more extended grasp over his mind. 

We grieve very much that the 
course of our story should now oblige 
us to record an event which we would 
willingly have spared ourselves the 
pain of narrating. The good old 
Squire of Warlock Manor-house had 
scarcely reached his home on his 
return from Bath, before William 
Brandon received the following let- 
ter from his brother's grey-headed 
butler : — 

"HoKwuBED Sub, 
" I send this with all speede, thof 
with a hevy hart, to axquainte yon 
with the sudden (and it is feered by 
his loving friends and well-wishers, 
which latter, to be sur, is all as knows 
him) dangeros ilness of the Squire.* 
He was seezed, poor deer gentleman 
(for Gk>d never made a better, no 
ofibnce to your Honnur), the moment 
he set footing in his Own Hall, and 
what has hung rond me like a miU- 
ston ever sin, is that instead of his 
saying — ^ How do you do^ Sampson 1' 
as was his wont, whenever he returned 
from forren parts, sich as Bath^ Lun- 
nun, and the like ; he said, ' God bless 
you, Sampson!' which makes me 
think sumhow that it will be his last 



^ The reader, who has doubOen nofioed 
how inyariably senrants of long standing 
acquire a certain tone from that of fheir 
master, may observe that honest John 
Sampson had caught from the squire the 
habit of pamtbetioal oonipoaition. 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



181 



wnrds; for he has nerer spoke sin, 
for all Miss l^ucy be by his bedside 
continno/. She, poor deer, don't take 
on at all, in regard of crying and- such 
woman's wurk, but looks nevertheless, 
for all the wurld, just like a copse. I 
sends Tom the postilion with this 
hexpress, nowing he is a good hand 
at a gallop, having, not sixteen years 
ago, beat some o' the best on un at a 
raceng. Hoping as yer honnur will 
lose no time in coming to this ' hons 
of mourning,' 

" I remane, with all respect, 
" Your Honnur's humble sarvant 
to command, 

"John Sampson." 

Sir William Brandon did not give 
himself time to re-read this letter, in 
order to make it more intelligible, 
before he wrote to one of his profes- 
ttonal compeers, requesting him to 
fill his place during bis unavoidable 
absence, on the melancholy occasion 
of his brother's expected death ; and 
having so done, he immediately set 
off for Warlock. Inexplicable even to 
himself was that feeling, so nearly 
approaching to real sorrow, which the 
worldly lawyer felt at the prospect of 
losing his guileless and unspeculating 
brother. Whether it be that turbulent 
and ambitious minds, in choosing for 
their wavering affections the very 
opposites of themselves, feel (on losing 
the fellowship of those calm, £Eur 
characters that have never crossed 
their rugged path) as if they lost, in 
losing them, a kind of haven for their 
own restless thoughts and tempest- 
worn designs ! — ^be this as it may, cer- 
tain it is, that when William Brandon 
arrived at his brother's door, and was 
informed by the old butler, who, for 
the first time, was slow to greet him, 
that the squire had just breathed his 
last, his austere nature forsook him at 
once, and he felt the shock with a 
severity perhaps still keener than that 



which a more genial and affectionate 
heart would have experienced. 

As soon as he had recovered his self- 
possession. Sir William made question 
of his niece ; and finding that after an 
uurelaxing watch during the whole of 
the squire's brief illness,' nature had 
failed her at his death, and she had 
been borne senseless from his chamber 
to her own, Brandon walked with 
a step far different from his usual 
stately gut to the room where hia 
brother lay. It was one of the oldest 
apartments in the house, and much of 
the ancient splendour that belonged 
to the mansion ere ita size had been 
reduced, with the' fortunes of its suc- 
cessive owners, still distinguished the 
chamber. The huge mantel-piece 
ascending to the carved ceiling in 
grotesque pilasters, and scroll-work 
of the blackest oak, with the quartered 
arms of Brandon and Saville es- 
cutcheoned in the centre, — ^the pa- 
nelled walls of the same dark wains- 
cot, — the armoire of ebony, — ^the high- 
backed chairs, with their tapestried 
seats, — ^the lofty bed, with its hearse- 
like plumes and draperies of a crimson 
damask that seemed, so massy was 
the substance, and so prominent the 
flowers, as if it were rather a carving 
than a silk, — ^all conspired with the 
size of the room to give it a feudal 
solemnity, not perhaps suited to the 
rest of the house, but well calculated 
to strike a gloomy awe into the breast 
of the worldly and proud man who 
now entered the death-chamber of hia 
brother. 

Silently William Brandon motioned 
away the attendants, and silently he 
seated himself by the bed, and looked 
long and wistfully upon the calm and 
placid face of the deceased. It is 
difficult to guess at what passed within 
him during the space of time in which 
he remained alone in that room. The 
apartment itself he could not, at an- 
other period, have tenanted without 
secret emotion. It was that in which. 



182 



?AUL OMPPOBD. 



U ft Doy, he had himself been aocna- 
tomed to sleep; and, even then a 
sehemer and an aspirant, the yeiy 
Bight of the room eofficed to call back 
all the hopes and yisions, the restless 
projects and the feverish desires, 
which had now brought him to the 
oiyied state of an acknowledged cele- 
brity and a shattered frame. There 
must have been something awful in 
the combination of those active re- 
membrances with the cause which had 
led him to that apartment ; and there 
was a homily in the serene counte- 
nance of the dead, which preached 
more effectually to the heart of the 
living than William Brandon would 
ever have cared to own. He had been 
oiore than an hoar in the room, and 



the evening had already begun to caab 
deep shadows through the small panea 
of the half-closed window, when Bran- 
don was startled by a slight noise. He 
locked up, and beheld Lucy opposite 
to him. She did not see him; but 
throwing herself upon the bed, she 
took the cold hand of the deceased, 
and, after a long silence, burst into a 
passion of tears. 

« My &ther I " she sobbed,—" my 
kind, good &ther! who wiU love me 
nowr* 

"l\" sud Brandon, deeply affected; 
and, passing round the bed, he took 
his niece in his arms : '* I will be your 
father, Lucy, and you — ^the last of our 
raoe-Hshall be to me aa a daughter T 



CHAPTER XXV. 



• Falsehood in him was not the useless lie 
Of boasting pride or laughing vanity ; 
It was the gainful— the persuading art,** Ae. 

• • • • • 



Crabbb. 



** On with the horses— off to Canterbury, 
Thunp— tramp o*er pebble, and splash— splash thro* puddle ; 
Hurrah I how swiftly speeds the post so meny ! 

• •••••« 

• ••••«« 
' Here laws are all inviolate ; none lay 

Traps for the traveller ; every highway's dear ; 

Here ■ * he was intexmpted by a knife, 

With ' IX—- your oyes!— yonr money or your life I'" 



Misfortunes are like the creations 
of Cadmus — ^they destroy one another ! 
Boused from the torpor of mind occa- 
sioned by the loss of her lover at the 
sudden illness of the squire, Lucy had 
no thought for herself—no thought 
for any one — for any thing but her 
&ther, till long after the earth had 
closed over his remains. The very 
activity of the latter grief was less 
dangerous than the quiet of the 
former ; and when the first keenness 



3}&njuan. 

of sorrow passed away, and her mind 
gradually and mechanically returned 
to the remembrance of Clifford, itwaa 
with an intensity less strong, and less 
fatal to her health and happiness than 
before. She thought it unnatural and 
criminal to allow any thing else to 
grieve her, while she had so sacred a 
grief as that of her loss ; and her mind, 
once aroused into resistance to passion, 
betrayed a native strength little to 
have been expected from her apparent 



PAUL CLIFPOBD. 



183 



cbaraeter. Sir William Brandon lost 
no time in returning to town after the 
burial of his brother. He insisted 
upon taking his niece with him ; and, 
though with real reluctance, she 
yielded to his wishes, and accompa- 
nied him. By the squire's will, 
indeed. Sir William was appointed 
guardian to Lucy, and she yet wanted 
more than a year of her msyority. 

Brandon, with a delicacy very 
uncommon to him where women 
(for he was a confirmed woman- 
hater) were concerned, provided every 
thing that he thought could in any 
way conduce to her comfort. He 
ordered it to be understood in his 
establishment that she was its mis- 
tress. He arranged and furnished, 
according to what he imagined to be 
her taste, a suite of apartments for 
her sole accommodation; a separate 
carriage and servants were appro- 
priated to her use ; and he sought, by 
perpetual presents of books, or flowers, 
or music, to occupy her thoughts, and 
atone for the solitude to which his 
professional duties obliged him so 
constantly to consign her. These 
attentions, which showed this strange 
man in a new light, seemed to bring 
out many little latent amiabilities, 
which were usually imbedded in the 
callosities of his rocky nature ; and, 
even despite her causes for grief and 
the deep melancholy which consumed 
her, Lucy was touched with gratitude 
at kindness doubly soothing in one 
who, however urbane and polished, 
was by no means addicted to the little 
attentions that are considered so grar 
tifying by women, and yet for which 
they so often despise, while they like, 
him who affords them. There was 
much in Brandon that wound itself 
insensibly around the heart. To one 
more experienced than Lucy, this 
involuntary attraction might not have 
been incompatible with suspicion, and 
could scarcely have been associated 
with esteem; and yet for all who 



knew him intimately, even for the 
penetrating and selfish Mauleverer, 
the attraction existed : unprincipled, 
crafty, hypocritical, even base when it 
suited his purpose ; secretly sneering 
at the dupes he made, and knowing 
no code save that of interest and am- 
bition; viewing men only as machines, 
and opinions only as ladders, — there 
was yet a tone of powerful feeling 
sometimes elicited firom a heart that 
could at the same moment have sacri- 
ficed a whole people to the pettiest 
personal object : and sometimes with 
Lucy the eloquence or irony of his 
conversation deepened into a melan- 
choly — a half-suppressed gentleness of 
sentiment, that accorded with the 
state of hir own mind and interested 
her kind feelings powerfully in his. 
It was these peculiarities in his con- 
verse which made Lucy love to hear 
him; and she gradually learned to 
anticipate with a gloomy pleasure the 
hour in which, after the occupations of 
the day, he was accustomed to join her. 

" You look unwell, uncle, to-night,'* 
she said, when one evening he entered 
the room with looks more fatigued 
than usual; and, rising, she leaned 
tenderly over him, and kissed his 
forehead. 

"Ay ! " said Brandon, utterly unwon 
by, and even unheeding, the caress ; 
" our way of life soon passes into the 
sear and yellow leaf; and when Mac- 
beth grieved that he might not look to 
have that which should accompany 
old age, he had grown doting, and 
grieved for what was worthless." 

"Nay, uncle, 'honour, love, obe- 
dience, troops of friends,' — these surely 
were worth the sighing for 1 " 

" Pooh ! not worth a single sigh ! 
The foolish wishes we form in youth 
have something noble, and something 
hodUy in them ; but those of age are 
utter shadows, and the shadows of 
pigmies ! Why, what is honour, after 
all ] What is this good name among 
men ! — Only a sort of heathenish idol. 



184 



PAUL CLIFPORD. 



•et np to be adored by one let of fiDols, 
and Boomed by another. Do yon not 
obaenre, Lncy, that the man yon hear 
most praUed by the party yoa meet 
to-day, is most abused by that which 
you meet to-morrow 1 Public men are 
only praiaedby their party ; and their 
party, sweet Lucy, are such base 
minions, that it moves one*s spleen to 
think one is so little as to be useful to 
them. Thus a good name is only the 
good name of a sect, and the members 
of that sect are only manrellous proper 
knayes.'' 

" But posterity does justice to those 
who really deserve fiEune/' 

" Posterity ! Can you believe that a 
man who knows what life is, cares for 
the penny whistles of grown children 
after his death? Posterity, Lucy — 
no ! Posterity is but the same perpe- 
tuity of fools and rascals ; and even 
were justice desirable at their hands, 
they could not deal it. Do men agree 
whether Charles Stuart was a liar or 
a martyr 1 For how many ages have 
we believed Nero a monster! A 
writer now asks, as if demonstrating 
a problem, what real historian could 
doubt that Nero was a paragon ? The 
patriarchs of Scripture have been 
declared by modem philosophy to be 
a series of astronomical hieroglyphs ; 
and, with greater show of truth, we 
are assured that the patriot Tell 
never existed! Posterity! the word 
has gulled men enough without my 
adding to the number. I, who loathe 
the living, can scarcely venerate the 
nnbom. Lucy, believe me, that no 
man can mix largely with men in 
political life, and not despise eveiy 
thing that in youth he adored ! Age 
leaves us only one feeling— contempt ! " 

"Are you belied, then?" said Lucy, 
pointing to a newspaper, the organ of 
the party opposed to Brandon : " Are 
you belied when you are here called 
'ambitious?' "When they call you 
' selfish ' and ' grasping ' I know 
they wrong you ; but I confess that I 



have thought yon ambitions ; yet can 
he who despises men desire their good 
opinion ? " 

"Their good opinion!" repeated 
Brandon, mockingly : " Do we want 
the bray of the asses we ridel — ^No!" 
he resumed, after a pause. " It is 
power, not Tumour ; it is the hope 
of elevating oneself in every respect^ 
in the world without, as well as in the 
world of one's own mind : it is this hope 
which makes me labour where I 
might rest, and will continue the 
labour to my grave. Lu<7," continued 
Brandon, fixing his keen eyes on his 
niece, " have you no ambition? have 
power, and pomp, and place, no charm 
for your mind ? " 

" None ! " sjud Lucy, quietly and 
simply. 

" Indeed ! yet there are times when 
I have thought I recognised my blood 
in your veins. You are sprung from 
a once noble, but a fiiUen race. Are 
you ever susceptible to the weakness 
of ancestral pride ? " 

" You say," answered Lucy, " that 
we should care not for those who live 
after us ; much less, I imagine, should 
we care for those who have lived ages 
before ! " 

" Prettily answered," said Brandon, 
smiling. " I will teU you at one time 
or another what effect that wieaknesa 
you despise already once had, long 
after your age, upon me. You are 
early wise on some points — ^profit by 
my experience, and be so on ott." 

" That is to say, in despising all 
men and aU things i " said Lucy, also 
smiling. 

" Well, never mind my creed ; yon 
may be wise after your own: but 
trust one, dearest Lucy, who loves you 
purely and disinterestedly, and who 
has weighed with scales balanced to a 
hair all the advantages to be gleaned 
from an earth, in which I verily think 
the harvest was gathered before we 
were put into it; — tmst, me, Lucy, 
and never think love — ^that maiden's 



PAUL CMFPOBD. 



185 



dx«am-HM yaluable aa rank and 
pover : panse well before yon yield to 
the former; accept the latter the 
moment they are offered yon. Lore 
puts you at the feet of another, and 
that other a tyrant ; rank puts others 
at your feet, and all those thus sub- 
jected are your slaves ! " 

Lucy moved her chair (so that the 
new position concealed her face) and 
did not answer; and Brandon, in an 
altered tone, continued, — 

"Would you think, Lucy, that I 
once was fool enough to imagine that 
love was a blessing, and to be eagerly 
sought for 1 I gave up my hopes, my 
chances of wealth, of distinction, all 
that had burned from the years of 
boyhood into my very heart. I chose 
poverty, obscurity, humiliation, — ^but 
I chose also love. What was my re- 
ward ? Lucy Brandon, I was deceived 
—deceived I" 

Brandon paused, and Lucy took his 
hand affectionately, but did not break 
the silence. Brandon resumed : — 

" Yes, I was deceived 1 But I in 
my turn had a revenge, — and a fitting 
nevenge ; for it was not the revenge 
of hatred, but " (and the speaker 
laughed sardoi^cally) "of contempt. 
Enough of this, Lucy ! What I wished 
to say to you is this — ^grown men and 
women know more of the . truth of 
things than ye young persons think 
for. Love is a mere bauble, and no 
human being. ever exchanged for it 
one solid advantage without repent- 
ance. Believe this ; and if rank ever 
puts itself under those pretty feet, be 
sure not to spurn the footstool." 

So saying, with a slight laugh, 
Brandon lighted his chamber candle, 
and left the room for the night. 

As soon as the lawyer reached his 
own apartment, he indited to Lord 
]li£auleverer the following epistle :— « 

"Why, dear Mauleverer, do you 
not come to town? I want you,— 
your party wants you; perhaps the 
K— g wants you; and certainly,"^ if 



you are serious about my niece, the 
care of your own love-suit should 
induce you yourself to want to come 
hither. I have paved the way for you; 
and I think, with a little manage- 
ment, you may anticipate a speedy 
success : but Lucy is a strange girl ; 
and perhaps, after all, though yon 
ought to be on the spot, you had 
better leave her as much as possible 
in my hands. I know human nature, 
Mauleveref, and that knowledge is 
the engine by which I will work your 
triumph. As for the young lover, I 
am not quite sure whether it be not 
better for our sake that Lucy should 
have experienced a disappointment 
on that score ; for when a woman has 
once loved, and the love is utterly 
hopeless, she puts all vague ideas of 
other lovers altogether out of her 
head ; she becomes contented with a 
hvishasid wham she can esteem / Sweet 
canter ! But you, Hauleverer, want 
Lucy to love you ! And so she will — 
after you have married her I She will 
love you partly from the advantages 
she derives from you, partly from 
familiarity (to say nothing of your 
good qualities). For my part, I think 
domesticity goes so &r, that I believe 
a woman always inclined to be affec- 
tionate to a man whom she has once 
seen in his nightcap. However, you 
should come to town ; my poor bro- 
ther's recent death allows us to see no 
one, — ^the coast will be clear from 
rivals ; grief has softened my niece's 
heart; — ^in a word, you could not 
have a better opportunity. Come 1 

" By the way, you say one of the 
reasons which made you think ill of 
this Captain Clifford was, your im- 
pression that, in the figure of one of 
his comrades, you recognised some- 
thing that appeared to you to resem- 
ble one of the fellows who robbed yon 
a few months ago. I understand that, 
at this moment, the police are in 
active pursuit of three most accom- 
plished robbers ; nor should I be at all 



t» 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



Burpriied if in tbis yery Clifford were 
to be found the leader of the gang, 
lis. the notorious LoTett. I hear that 
tiie said leader is a clerer and a hand- 
some fellow^ of a gentlemanlike ad- 
dxesB, and thai his general associates 
atre two men of the exact stamp of the 
worthies yon have so amnnngly de- 
scribed to me. I heard this yesterday 
fh>m Kabbem, the police-officer, with 
whom I onoe scraped acquaintance on 
a trial; and in my gmdge against 
yonr rival, I hinted at my suspicion 
that he. Captain Clifford, might not 
impossibly prove this Rinaldo Rinal- 
dini of the roads. Nabbem caught at 
my hint at once ; so that, if it be 
fouided on a tniegaesB^ I may flatter 
my conscience, as well as my Mend- 
ship, by the hope that I have had 
some hand in hanging this Adonis of 
my niece's. Whether my goess be 
tme or not, Nabbem says he is sore 
of this Lovett ; for one of his gang has 
promised to betray him. Hang these 
aspiring dogs I I thought treacheiy 
was ccmfined to politics; and that 
tlM>ught makes me turn to public 
moittersr— in which all people are 
turning with the most edi^^g ce- 
lerity." 



Sir William Brandon's epistle found 
Mauleverer in a fitting mood for Lucy 
and for London. Our worthy peer 
had been not a little chagrined by 
Lucy's sudden departure from Both ,* 
and while in doubt whether or not to 
follow her, the papers had informed 
him of the squire's death. Mauleverer, 
being then fully aware of the impos- 
sibility of immediately urging his 
suit, endeavoured, like the true philo- 
sopher he was, to reconcile himself to 
has hope deferred. Few people were 
more easily susceptible of consolation 
than Lord Mauleverer. He found an 
agreeable lady, of a face more unfiided 
her reputation, to whom he 



intrusted the caie of relieving his 
leisure moments from eimui; and 
beiag a lively woman, the eai^danie 
discharged the trust with great satia* 
faction to Lord Mauleverer, for the 
space of a fortnight^ so that he natu- 
rally began to feel his love for hucy 
gradually wearing away, by absence 
and other ties; but just as the 
triumph of time over passion was 
growing decisive, the lady left Bath 
in company with a tall guardsman, 
and Mauleverer received Brandon's 
letter. These two events recalled our 
excellent lover to a sense of his alle- 
giance ; and there being now at Bath 
no particular attraction to counter- 
balance the ardour of his affectioB, 
Lord Mauleverer ordered thtr horses 
to his carriage, and, attended only by 
his valet,>set out for London. 

Nothing, perhiQM, could convey » 
better portrait of the world's spoiled 
darling than a sight of Lord Mau- 
leverer's thin, &stidious foatures, peer- 
ing forth through the closed window 
of his luxurious travelling chariot; 
the rest of the outer man being care- 
fully enveloped in flirs^ half-a-doseii 
novels strewing the seat of the car- 
riage, and & lean French dog, exceedr 
ingly like its master, sniffing in vain 
for the fresh air, whidi, to the imagi- 
nation of Mauleverer, was peopled 
with all sorts of asthmas and catarrhs? 
Mauleverer got out of his carriage at 
9alisbuiy, to stretch his limbs, and ta 
amuse himself with a cutlet Oar 
nobleman was well known on the 
roads ; and, as nobody could be more 
afiable, he was equally popular. The 
officious landlord bustled into the 
room, to wait himself upon his lord- 
ship, andto tellall thenewsof the place. 

"Well, Mr. Cheeriy," said Maule- 
verer, bestowing a penetrating glance 
on his cutlet, ''the bad times, I see, 
have not mined your cook." 

*' Indeed, my lord, your lordship ie 
very good, and the times, indeed, are 
very bad— ^ry had indeed. Is theie 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



187 



msagh gravy 1 PerliapB your lord- 
ghip will try the pickled onions 1 " 

''The what? — Onions !— oh J— ah ! 
nothing can be better; but I nerer 
tooeh them. So, are the roads good ?" 

''Tour lordship has, I hope, found 
them good to Salisbury T 

" Ah ! I believe so. Oh ! to be sure, 
excellent to Salisbury. But how are 
they to London t We hare had wet 
weather lately, I think ! " 

" No, my lord. Here, the weather 
has been as dry as a bone." 

"Or a cutlet!" muttered Mau- 
leverer, and the host continued, — 

" As for the roads themselves, my 
lord — so far as the roads are con- 
cerned — ^they are pretty good, my 
lord ; but I can't say as how there is 
not something about them that might 
be mended." 

" By no means improbable ! — You 
mean the inns and the turnpikes ? " 
rejoined Mauleverer. 

" Tour lordship is pleased to be 
facetious;— no! I meant something 
worse than them." 

"What! the cooks r 

" No, my lord, — the highwaymen f ** 

" The highwaymen ! — ^indeed ! " said 
Mauleverer anxiously ; for he had with 
biwi a case of diamonds, which at that 
time were, on grand occasions, often 
the ornaments of a gentleman's dress, 
in the shape of buttons, buckles, &c. ; 
he had also a tolerably large sum of 
ready money about him, a blessing he 
had lately begun to find very rare : — 
" By the way, the rascals robbed me 
before on this veiy road. My pistols 
shallbe loaded this time. — Mr.Cheerly, 
you had better order the horses ; one 
may as well escape the nighi-fiUl." 

'* Certainly, my lord — certainly. — 
Jem, the horses immediately ! — Tour 
lordship wiU have another cutlet 1 ** 

"Not a morsel!" 

"Atartr 

"A dev— r not for the world I " 

" Bring the cheese, John ! " 

" Much obliged to you, Mr.Cheerly, 



but I have dined ; and if I have not 
done justice to your good cheer, thank 
yourself and the highwaymen.-— 
Where do these highwaymen attack 
onel" 

" Why, my lord, the neighbourhood 
of Reading is, I believe, the wcmt 
part ; but they are very troublesome 
aUthewaytoSalthill." 

" Damnation ! — ^the very neighbour- 
hood in which the knaves robbed me 
before! — Tou may well call them 
troublesome/ Why the deuce don't 
the police clear the county of such a 
movable species of trouble 1 " 

" Indeed, my lord, I don't know : 
but they say as how Captain Lovett, 
the fiimous robber, be one of the set ; 
and nobody can catch him, I fear ! " 

" Because, I suppose, the dog has 
the sense to bribe as well as bully. 
— What is the general number of 
these ruffians)" 

" Why, my lord, sometimes one, 
sometimes two, but seldom more thai^ 
three." 

Mauleverer drew himself up. ''My 
dear diamonds, and my pretty purse ! " 
thought he ; "I may save you yet ! " 

" Have you been long plagued with 
the fellows 1" he asked, ^ter a pause, 
as he was paying his bill. 

" Why, my lord, we have and we 
have not. I ikncy as how they have a 
sort of haunt near Reading, for some- 
times they are intolerable just about 
there, and sometimes they are quiet 
for months together f For instance, 
my lord, we thought them all gone 
some time ago ; but lately they have 
regularly stopped every one, though I 
hear as how they have cleared no 
great booty as yet." 

Here the waiter announced the 
horses, and Mauleverer slowly re- 
entered his carriage, among the bows 
and smiles of the charmed spirits of 
the hostelry. 

During the daylight, Mauleverer^ 
who was naturally of a gallant and 
fearless temper, thought no more of 



188 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



the highwajrmen, — ^a species of danger 
fo common at that time, that men al- 
most considered it disgraceful to suffer 
the dread of it to be a cause of delaj 
on the road. Travellers seldom deemed 
it best to lose time in order to save 
money; and they carried with them 
a stout heart and a brace of pistols, 
instead of sleeping all night on the 
road. Mauleverer, rather a prevx 
chevalier, was precisely of this order 
of wayfarers ; and a night at an inn, 
when it was possible to avoid it, was 
to him, as to most rich Englishjnen, 
a tedious torture zealously to be 
shunned. It never, therefore, entered 
into the head of our excellent noble- 
man^ despite his experience, that his 
diamonds and his purse might be 
saved from all danger, if he would 
consent to deposit them, with his own 
person, at some place of hospitable 
reception ; nor, indeed, was it till he 
was within a stage of Beading, and 
the twilight had entirely closed in, 
that he troubled his head much on 
the matter. But while the horses 
were putting to, he summoned the 
postboys to him ; and, after regarding 
their countenances with the eye of 
a man accustomed to read physiog- 
nomies, he thus eloquently addressed 
them : — 

" Qentlemen, — I am informed that 
there is some danger of being robbed 
between this town and Salthill. Now, 
I beg to inform you, that I think it 
next to impossible for four horses, 
properly directed, to be stopped by 
less than four men. To that number 
I shall probably yield; to a less 
number I shall most assuredly give 
nothing but bullets. You understand 
me?" 

The postboys grinned, touched 
their hats, and Mauleverer slowly 
continued, — 

"If, therefore,— mark me! — one, 
two, or three men stop your horses, 
and I find that the use of your whips 
and spurs are ineffectual in releasing 



the animals from the hold of the 
robbers, I intend with these pistols — 
you observe them ! — ^to shoot at the 
gentlemen who detain you; but as, 
though I am generally a dead shot, 
my eyesight wavers a little in the 
i diU'k, I think it very possible that I 
I may have the misfortune to shoot 
, you, gentlemen, instead of the robbers I 
You see the rascals will be close by 
you, sufficiently so to put you in 
jeopardy, unless, indeed, you knock 
them down with the butt-end of your 
whips. I merely mention this, that 
you may be prepared. Should such, 
a mistake occur, you need not be 
uneasy beforehand, for I will take 
every possible care of your widows ; 
should it not, and should we reach 
Salthill in safety, I intend to testify 
my sense of the excellence of your 
driving by a present of ten guinesa 
a-piece 1 Qentlemen, I have done with 
you. I give you my honour, that I 
am serious in what I have said to you. 
Do me the favour to mount." 

Mauleverer then called his favourite 
servant, who sat in the dickey in 
front (rumble-tumbles not being then 
in use). 

''Smoothson," said he, "the Uwt 
time we were attacked on this very 
road, you behaved damnably. See 
that you do better this time, or it may 
be the worse for you. Ton have 
pistols to-night about you, eh 1 Well ! 
that 's right ! And you are sure they 're 
loaded] Very well I Now, then, if 
we are stopped, don't lose a moment. 
Jump down, and fire one of your 
pistols at the first robber. Keep the 
other for a 9ure aim. One shot la 
to intimidate, the second to slay. Ton 
comprehend ? My pistols are In ex« 
cellent order, I suppose. Lend me 
the ramrod. So, so ! No trick this 
time!" 

" They would kill a fly, my lord, 
provided your lordship fired straight 
upon it." 

** I do not doubt you," said Maule- 



PAUL CLIFPOBD. 



189 



verer; "light the lanterns, and tell 
the postboys to drive on." 

It was a frosty and tolerably clear 
night. The dusk of the twilight had 
melted away beneath the moon which 
had just risen, and the hoary rime 
glittered from the bushes and the 
sward, breaking into a thousand 
diamonds as it caught the rays of the 
stars. On went the horses briskly, 
their breath steaming against the 
fresh' air, and their hoo& sounding 
cheerily on the hard ground. The 
rapid motion of the carriage — the 
bracing coolness of the night — ^and 
the excitement occasioned by anxiety 
and the forethought of danger, aU 
conspired to stir ti^e languid blood of 
Lord Mauleverer into a vigorous and 
exhilarated sensation, natural in youth 
to his character, but utterly contrary 
to the nature he had imbibed frx)m 
the customs of his manhood. 

He felt his pistols, and his hands 
trembled a little as he did so : — ^not 
the least from fear, but frt>m that 
restlessness and eagerness peculiar to 
nervous persons placed in a new 
situation. 

" In this country/* said he to him- 
self, " I have been only once robbed 
in the course of my Ufe. It was then 
a little my fault ; for before I took to 
my pistols, I should have been certain 
they were loaded. To-night, I shall 
be sure to avoid a similar blunder; 
and my pistols have an eloquence in 
their biurels which is exceedingly 
moving. Humph, another milestone I 
These fellows drive well ; but we are 
entering a pretty-looking spot for 
Mesneurs the ^sdples of Bobin 
Hoodr 

It was, indeed, a picturesque spot 
by which the carriage was now rapidly 
whirling. A few miles from Maiden- 
head, on the Henley Bead, our readers 
will probably remember a small tract 
of forestlike Und, lying on either side 
of the road. To the left^ the green 
waste bean away among treea and 



bushes ; and one skilled in the coun- 
try may pass from that spot, through 
a landscape as little tenanted as green 
Sherwood was formerly, into the 
chains of wild common and deep 
beech-woods which border a certain 
portion of Oxfordshire, and contrast 
so beautifully the general character- 
istics of that county. 

At the time we speak of, the countiy 
was even far wilder than it is now ; 
and just on that point where the 
Henley and the Beading roads unite 
was a spot (communicating then with 
the waste land we have described), 
than which, perhaps, few places could 
be more adapted to the purposes of 
such true men as have recourse to the 
primary law of nature. Certain it 
was that at this part of the road 
Mauleverer looked more anxiously 
from his window than he had hitherto 
done, and apparently the increased 
earnestness of his survey was not 
altogether without meeting its reward. 

About a hundred yards to the lefl^ 
three dark objects were just discern- 
ible in the ^bade; a moment more, 
and the objects emerging grew into 
the forms of three men, well mounted^ 
and riding at a brisk trot. 

" Only 5iree !" thought Mauleverer, 
" that is well ; " and leaning from the 
front-window with a pistol in either 
hand, Mauleverer cried out to the 
postboys in a stem tone, " Drive on, 
and recollect what I told you 1 — Be- 
memberP he added to his servant. 
The postboys scarcely looked round ; 
but Uieir spurs were buried in thdr 
horses, and the animals flew on like 
lightning. 

The three strangers made a halt, as 
if in conference : their decision was 
prompt. Two wheeled round from 
their comrade, and darted at fidl 
gallop by the carriage. Mauleverer^s 
pistol was already protruded frt>m the 
front-window, when to his astonish- 
ment, and to the utter baffling of his 
ingenious admonition to his driTen^ 



IM 



PAUL CLIPFOB0. 



he beheld tiie two portboyg knocked 
from their hoises one after the other 
with a celerity that Boarcely allowed 
him an exclamation; and before he 
had recovered his ftelf-possesBion, the 
horscB taking fright (and their fright 
being skilfully ti^en advantage of by 
the highwaymen), the carriage was 
fairly whirled into a ditch on the 
right side of the road, and upset. 
Meanwhile, Smoothson had leaped 
from his station in the fnmt; and 
having fired, though without effect, 
at the third robber, who approached 
menacingly towards him, he gained 
the time to open the carriage door, 
and extricate his master. 

The moment Mauleverer found 
himself on terra firma, he prepared his 
courage for offensive measures, and 
he and Smoothson standing side by 
side in front of the unfcMrtunate vehicle, 
presented no nnformidable aspect to 
the enemy. The two robbers who 
had so decisively rid themselves of 
tiie postboys acted with no less deter- 
mination towards the horses. One of 
them dismounted, cut the traces, and 
suffered the plunging quadrupeds to 
go whither they listed. This measure 
was not, however, allowed to be taken 
with impunity; a ball from Maule- 
verer's pistol passed through the hat 
of the highwayman with an aim so 
slightly erring, tiiat it whizzed among 
the locks of the astosnded hero with 
a sound that sent a terror to his 
heart, no less from a love of his head 
than from anxiety for his hair. The 
shock ataggered him for a moment; 
•ad * 8ecc«id i^ot from the hands 
of Mauleverer would have probably 
finished his earthly career, had not 
the third robber, who had hitherto 
remwed almost inactive, thrown 
himself from his honse, which, tutored 
io such docility, remained perfectly 
stUl, and advancing with a b<dd step 
attd a levelled pistol toward Maule- 
irerer and his servant, said in a reso- 
]bAe voice, ** (Qtentlemen, it is oseleBS 



to struggle ; we are well anned, aaid 
resolv^ on effecting our purpose: 
your persons shall be safe if you lay 
down yonr arms, and also such part 
of your property as yon may partiea- 
larly wish to retain. Bat if yon 
resist^ I cannot answer ffx your 
Uvea!" 

Mauleverer had listened patientlj 
to this speech in order that he mi^ 
have more time for adjusting his 
aim: his reply was a btdlet, which 
grazed the side of the speaker and 
tore away the skin, without inflicting 
any more dangerous wound. Mutter- 
ing a curse upon the error of his aim, 
and resolute to the last when his 
blood was once up, Mauleveror backed 
(«« pace, drew his sword, and threw 
himself into the attitude of a cham- 
pion well skilled in the use of the 
instrument he woro. 

But that incomparable penKtfiage 
waa in a fair way of ascertaining what 
happiness in the world to come iB 
reserved for a man who has spared ue 
pains to make himself comf<»table in 
this. For \ht two first and moat 
active robbers having finiahed tiie 
achievement (^ the hoxsei^ now ap- 
proached Mauleverer, and the taller 
of them, still indignant at the late 
peril to his hair, cried out in a steft- 
torian voice, — 

'^By Jove! you old fool, if yon 
don't throw doim your toasting-fork, 
111 be the death of you 1" 

The speaker suited the action t^ 
the word, by eocking an immeafle 
pistol Mauleverar stood his ground ; 
bat Smoothson retreated, and stus^ 
bling against tibe wheel of the carriage 
fell backward ; the next instant, the 
second hi^wayman had possessed 
himself of the valet's pistols, and, 
quietly seated on the liEillen man's 
stomach, amused himself by Im^cting 
the contents of the domestie's poebeta; 
Maulevo^r was now alone, and hSs 
stubbornness so mcaged tba tall bnlljf 
that his hand was already on his 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



191 



trigger, wlien ike third robber, whose 
side Maulev^rer's bullet had grazed, 
thrast himself between the two. — 
•''Hold, Ned !" said he, pushing back 
liis comrade's pistol — ^'^ And you, my 
lord, whose rashness ought to cost 
you your life, learn that men can rob 
generously." So saying, with one 
dexterous s1ax>ke firom the robber's 
riding-whip, Mauleverer's sword flew 
tipwards, and alighted at the distance 
often yards from its owner. 

''Approach now," said the yietor 
to his comrades. " Rifle the carriage, 
and with all despatch ! " 

The tall highwayman hastened to 
execute this order; and the lesser 
one having satisfactorily finished the 
inquisition into Mr. Smoothson's 
pockets, drew forth from his own 
pouch a tolerably thick rope ; with 
this he tied the hands of the prostrate 
yalet, moralising as he wound the 
rope round and round the wrists of 
tke &llen man, in the following edi- 
fying strain : — 

"Lie still, sir — ^lie still, I beseech 
yon ! All wise men are fatalists ; and 
no proverb is more pithy than that 
which says, ' what can't be cured must 
be endured.' Lie still, I tell you! 
Little, perhaps, do you think that you 
are performing one of the noblest 
functions of humanity: yes, sir, you 
are filling the pockets of the destitute ; 
and by my present aetioa I am secur- 
ing you from any weakness of the 
flesh likely to impNede so praiseworthy 
an end, and so hazard the excellenee 
of your action. There, sir, your hands 
are tight,~lie still and reflect." 

As he said this, with three gentle 
applications of his feet, the moralist 
rolled Mr. Smoothson into the ditch, 
and hastened to join his lengthy 
comrade in his pleasing ooeupatkm. 

In the interim, Mauleverer and the 
third robber (who, in the true spirit 
of government, remained dignified 
and inaciave whHe his followers plun- 
deved what he eertamly designed to 



share, if not to monopolise) stood 
within a few feet of each other, &oe 
tofiice. 

Mauleverer had now convinced 
himself that all endeavour to save 
his property was hopeless, and he had 
also the consolation of thinking he 
had done his best to defend it. He, 
therefore, bade all his thoughts return 
to the care of his person. He ad- 
justed his fur collar around his neck 
with great sang fivid, drew on his 
gloves, and, patting his terrified 
poodle, who sat shivering on its 
haunches with one paw raised, and 
nervously trembling, he said, — 

" You, sir, seem to be a civil person, 
and I really should have felt quite 
sorry if I had had the misfortune to 
wound you. You are not hurt* I 
trust. Pray, if I may inquire, how 
am I to proceed 1 My carriage is in 
the ditch, and my horses by this 
' time are probably at the end of the 
world." 

"As for that matter," said the 
robber, whose &ce, like those of his 
comrades, was closely masked in the 
approved fiishion of highwaymen of 
that day, " I believe you will have to 
walk to Maidenhead, — ^it is not far, 
and the night is fine I" 

" A veiy trifling hardship, indeed 1 " 
said Mauleverer, ironically; but his 
new acquaintance made no reply, nor 
did he appear at all desirous of enter- 
ing into any &rther conversation with 
Mauleverer. 

The earl, therefore, alter watching 
the operations of the other robbers 
for some moments, turned on his heel, 
and remained humming an opera tune 
with dignified indifierence until the 
pair had finished rifling the carriagie, 
and, seiring Mauleverer, proceeded to 
rifle hdm. 

With a curled lip and a raised brow, 
that supreme posonage suffered himr 
self to be, as the taller robber expressed 
it, "cleaned out." His watch, his 
rings, his purse, and his snuff-box, all 



192 



PAUL CLIFFOED. 



went. It was long mnoe the lascaU 
had captured such a booty. 

They had scarcely finiahed when the 
postboys, who had now began to look 
about them, uttered a simultaneous 
cry, and at some distance a wagon was 
seen heayily approaching. Mauleyerer 
really wanted his money, to say no- 
thing of his diamonds ; and so soon 
as he perceiyed assistance at hand, a 
new hope darted within him. His 
sword still lay on the ground; he 
sprang towards it — seized it, uttered 
a shout for help, and threw himself 
fiercely on the highwayman who had 
disarmed him ; but the robber, ward- 
ing off the blade with his whip, 
retreated to his saddle, which he 



managed, despite of Mauleyera^a 
lunges, to regain with impunity. 

The other two had already mounted, 
and within a minute afterwards not a 
yestige of the trio was yisible. '' This 
is what may fEorly be called aingU 
bUsaednesa I ** said Mauleyerer, as, 
dropping his useless sword, he thrust 
his hands into his pockety. 

Leaying our peerless peer to find 
his way to Maidenhead on foot^ ac- 
companied (to say nothing of the 
poodle) by one wagoner, two post- 
boys, and the released Mr. Smooth- 
son, all four charming him with their 
condolences, we follow with our 
story the steps of the three cUieni 
appetentes. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 



«* The rogues were very merry on their booty. They nid a thonsand things that showed 
fhe wiokednesB of their morale."— C7U BUu, 

** They fixed on a spot where th^ made a caye. which was large enough to receive them 
and their horses. This oave was enclosed within a sort of thicket of bushes and brambles. 
From this station th^y used to issue," Sic— Memoirs <if Richard Turpin. 



It was not for seyeral minutes after 
their flight had commenced that any 
conyersation passed between the rob- 
bers. Their horses flew on like wind, 
and the country through which they 
rode presented to their speed no other 
obstacle than an occasional hedge, or 
a short cut through the thicknesses of 
some leafless beechwood. The stars 
lent them a merry light, and the 
spirits of two of them at least were 
folly in sympathy with the exhilara- 
tion of the pace and the air. Perhaps, 
in the third, a certain presentiment 
that the present adyenture would end 
less merrily than it had begun, con- 
spired, with other causes of gloom, to 
check that exaltation of the blood 
which generally follows a successful 
exploit. 

The path which the robbers took 



wound by the sides of long woods, or 
across large tracts of uncultiyated 
land. Nor did they encounter any 
thing liying by the road, save now 
and then a solitary owl, wheeling its 
grey body around the skirts of the 
bare woods, or occasionally troops of 
conies, pursuing their sports and en- 
joying their midnight food in the 
fields. 

" Heayens ! " cried the tall robber, 
whose incognito we need no longer 
presenre, and who, as our readers are 
doubtless aware, answered to the name 
of Pepper, — ''Heayens J" cried he, 
looking upward at the starry skies in 
a sort of ecstacy, "what a jolly life 
this is ! Some fellows like hunting; 

d it ! what hunting is like Ihe 

roadi If there be sport in hunting 
down a nasty fox^ how much more is 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



193 



there in huntmg down a nice clean 
nobleman's carriage ! If there be joy 
in getting a brash, how much more is 
there in getting a pnrse ! If it be 
pleasant to fly oyer a hedge in the 
broad daylight, hang me if it be not 
ten times finer sport to skim it by 
night, — ^here goes.' Look how the 
hedges run away from us ! and the 
silly old moon dances about, as if the 
sight of us put the good lady in 
spirits 1 Those old maids are always 
glad to haye an eye upon such fine 
dashing young fellows," 

" Ay/' cried the more erudite and 
sententious Augustus Tomlinson, 
roused by success from his usual phi- 
losophical sobriety ; " no work is so 
pleasant as night-work, and the witches 
our ancestors burnt were in the right 
to ride out on their broomsticks, with 
the owls and the stars. We are their 
successors tvonjUf Ked. We are your 
true fly-by-nights I " 

"Only," quoth Ned, "we are a 
cursed deal more clever than they 
were; for they played their game 
without being a bit the richer for it, 
and we — I say, Tomlinson, where the 
devil did you put that red morocco 
case]" 

" Experience never enlightens the 
foolish ! " said Tomlinson ; "or yon 
would have known, without asking, 
that I had put it in the very safest 
pocket in my coat. 'Gad, how heavy 
it is!" 

"Well!" cried Pepper, "I can't 
say I wish it were lighter ! Only think 
of our robbing my lord twice, and on 
the same road too 1 " 

" I say, Lovett," exclaimed Tomlin- 
son, " was it not odd that we should 
have stumbled upon our Bath friend 
so unceremoniously 1 Lucky for us 
that we are so strict in robbing in 
masks 1 He would not have thought 
the better of Bath company if he had 
seen our faces." 

Lovett, or rather Clifford, had 
hitherto been silent. He now turned 

No. 33. 



slowly in his saddle, and said, — ^" As 
it was, the poor devil was very nearly 
despatched. Long Ned was making 
short work with him--'if I had not 
interposed ! " 

" And why did yon 1" said Ned. 

". Because I will have no killing : it 
is the curse of the noble art of our 
profession to have passionate professors 
like thee." 

" Passionate 1 " repeated Ned : "well, 
I am a little choleric, I own it; but 
that is not so great a &ult on the road 
as it would be in house-breaking. 
I don 't know a thing that requires so 
much coolness and self-possession as 
cleaning out a house from top to 
bottom,— quietly and civilly, mind 
yon!" 

"That is the reason, I suppose, 
then," said Augustus, " that you alto- 
gether renounced ^kai career. Touif 
first adventure was house-breaking, I 
think I have heard you say. I confess 
it was a vulgar d&M — not worthy of 
you!" 

"No! — ^Harry Cook seduced me; 
but the specimen I saw that night 
disgusted me of picking locks; it 
brings one in contact with such low 
companions : only think, there was a 
merchant — a rag-merchant, one of the 
party!" 

" Faugh ! " said Tomlinson, in so- 
lemn disgust. 

" Ay, you may well turn up your 
lip : I never broke into a house again." 

"Who were your other compa- 
nions T' asked Angustus. 

" Only Harry Cook,* and a very 
singular woman ^" 

Here Ned's narrative was inter- 
rupted by a dark defile through a 
wood, allowing room for only one 
horseman at a time. They continued 
this gloomy path for several minutes, 
until at length it brought them to the 
brink of a large dell, overgrown with 
bushes, and spreading around some- 

* A noted highwayman, 
o 13 



IM 



FAUI. CUFf OlD. 



Hmih«ioi>bM dinoatod,siidted| 
ihnrwtitme hufw dwm the dp— it ) 

a cluster of buBhes, which mem&A m I 
thick ai to ddjr iotniiian, bat whidi 
yieldiiig, oa tiilMriide, lo tk» eatpe- ' 
lianeed haad of the idbhw^ pwcaU A ( 

A few steps along the panage of tUa' 
gidf broni^ thaai to a door, iMA, I 
oren soon hj tonh l%ht» wndd hoppo i 
apposred so onotl^ riHilar ia oolow 
imd matonil to the mdo mdlo on * 
dther tide, u to have doeoired m^ 
QMOipoetiBg^rv^flBdwhM^ hi the 
caotoMtiy darikaoas hroodiaig mfg % < 
might hsvo xendBed te oentaxka^ 
undiscovered. TouehingaBoeretlateli»| 
tfaa door opened, aad tteToliboaa were 
la the flec«« preciaols of tho " IM ! 
Omr itnarboroMBibeKedthati 
aaiongfheonri^atiidiiBof ear oze»-l 
pkry hero, the awaiain of Siehanl I 
Tarpia had Jbnaod a ooaQiicaooa 
portion ; and it may also be remem* 
beied that, ia tiw mixdhmooaa ad- ' 
raatores of that gesftkaaaa, nothing 
had more deHghtod the jaireaalfr ima- 
gfamtioiLof Iho stadaak than the do- 
scriptioaof the teeat oare iawhidi 
tho galhmt Torpin had hoML aceaa- 
tomed to conceal himself, his fidend, 
his horsey 

," And that sweet saint who lsyl»rHtfp h fl » 
•Ms;" 

or, to speak more domeafieally, the 

reapeetable Mrs. Tarpia* So strong 
a hold, indeec^ had tiiat eariy lemi- 
nlaoetioe fixed apon onr hero's vdnd, 
that, no sooner had he rfsea to ean- 
nonce amoag hie fri«wls, than he had 
pat the project of his childhood into 
ezeoatioB. He had sdeoted for the 
scene e( his ingennity an adarinkble 
spot. In a IftMy-peopIed coiatry, 
sorronnded by eornmona and wooda^ 
and yet (as Mr. Boblns would say, if 
he had to dtepose of it by auction) 
"within an easy ride" of populous 
and well-fireqntfrted road^ it possessed 



all tib adfantegs of MOi^for itad( 
aad^oatwienoafordipiidatioa, Tetj 
faorof tha gaag, anJ those atkf lAm 
had been empkijad hi iia eoBatfactJaa, 
woaa made aoqnaiiited with llie aeetei 
of thia carem ; andaa ovra ~ 

raaely Tktod it^ adodiy<m < 
ofvgOBt waaior i 
it had canttaaod In : 




Theeayora, orlginallf hollowed bgr 
natan^o'ipadhailittlotoiiie doenar 
tbaa of art; aanrthdoa^ tlm lang^ 
ness of the walla was co a ee al e d ^ a 
rado batcaiBfaBlaUoamaof matling: 
foarcrfiveof soahaeataas thaart>ben 



aaoaml a «iattbut bni^t wood §n, 
wUdMB th ei a a aa m > ddmnqr, aptoad 
atidDTDlama of smoka ofrertimi^art- 
The Mght of Ae caT^ aifed 



tol 

pn w nte^ howetor, thfe e?fi 
being Bcrionsly unpleaaant; and, in- 
daed, like the tcaaala of an Insh. 
caMa, pariupa tim kmiateB attached 
a i/egteed comfert to a circmastaBce 
which was eoopled with their deaseat 
hoasdMld aMuiiatioa8> A table, 
fonned of a board ooamely plaaed, 
and supported by four logs of irregufair 
shN^ aiads equal by tho intvodaction 
of hlodtB or wadgoa between tho l^s 
and tim floor, stood wanning its ma- 
covih seff by the fire. At onocomor, 
a oawRwd cart made a oonq>icaoa8 
article of furniture, no doubt usefhl 
either in coaveying pltmder or pn>- 
virioas ; beside the wheels were car»> 
leaily thrown two or thiae coarse car- 
penter's tools, and the more warMke 
utilities of a bSonderbass, a rifie;, and 
two broadswords. In the other comer 
was an open cupboard, eootainiagrowB 
of pewter platters, mags, kc OpposAt% 
the fire-place, wbioh was to the left of 
the entrance, an excavation had beea 
turned intoadormitoiy; aad fronting 
the entrance was a pair of broad, 
strong, wooden stops, ascencBng to a 
large hollow about eight feet firom 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



m: 



the ground. This was the entrance 
to the stables ; and as soon as their 
owners released the reins of the horses, 
the docile animals proceeded one by 
one leisurely up the steps, in the sum- 
ner of quadrupeds educated at the 
public seminary of Astley's, and dis- 
appeared within the aperture. 

These steps, when drawn up— 
which, hoireyer, fh>m their extreme 
clumsiness, required the united 
strength of two ordinaiy men, and 
was not that instantaneous work which 
it should have been, — ^made the place 
above a tolerably strong hold, for the 
wall was perfectly perpendicuhir and 
level, and it was only by placing his 
hands upon the ledge, and so lifting 
himself gymnastically upward, that an 
active assailant could have reached 
the eminence; a work which defenders 
equally active, it may easily be snp» 
posed, would not be l^ely to allow. 

This upper cave— for our robbers 
paid more attention to their hotses 
than themselves, as the nobler animals 
of the two species — ^was evidently iltted 
up with some labour. The staUs were 
rudely divided, the litter of dry fern 
was clean, tronglui were Med with 
oats, and a large tub had been supplied 
from a pond at s ]i«ti« flBstanee. A 
cart-hameflB^ andf Sone eld wageMrsT 
frocks, were flavd em pegs t» Ae will. 
While at the fiiv end of these stegulor 
Stables was a dosv starongly bsRwd, 
aad enly just large esou^ to admit 
the body of a BUHL The oonfederatcs 
had made it a» expfess lam never to 
enter their domain by this door, er 
fo use it, exeept fov tke porpwe of 
escape, should the cawe ever be at- 
tacked ; in which case, while one or 
two defended the esteaiice from the 
kimer cave, another mi^t vnbar the 
door, and as it opened upon the thick- 
est part of the wood, thnnigh; which 
with great ingemilljf a laibyiintfaine 
path had been cnt^ net easily tracked 
by ignorant parsvers, tiiese precau- 
tions ef the hi^wBrymen had provided 



a fiur hope of at least a temporary 
escape from any invading enemies. 

Such were the domestic arrange* 
ments of the Bed Cave ; and it will be 
conceded jbhat at least some skill had 
been shewn in the choice of the spot, 
if there were a lack of taste in its 
adornments. 

While the horses were performing, 
their nightly ascent, our three heroes, 
after securing the dbor, made at onCe 
to the fire. And there, reader ! 
they were greeted in welcome by one, 
— an old and revered acquaintance of 
thine, — ^whoim in such a scene it will 
equally astound and wound thee to 
re-behold. 

Know, then, — but first we will 
describe to thee the occupation and 
the' garb of the august personage to 
whom we allude. Bending over a 
large gridiron, daintily bespread with 
steaks of the Catted rump, the INDI- 
VIDUAL stood ; — ^with his right arm 
based abote the elbow, and his right 
hand grasping that mimic trident 
known unto gastrtmomers by the 
monesyUable ''fork." His wigless 
head was adorned with a cotton night- 
cap* His upper vestment was dis- 
ciffded, and a whitish apron flowed 
graeefUly down his middle man. His 
stoekingv were mgartered, and per* 
Bitted betwteft the knee and the calf 
inteieeting glances (tf the rude camaL 
One list shoe and one of leathern 
manufiteture cased his ample feet. 
Snterprise, or the noble glow <^ his 
present oofiaary proHMnon, Q>read a 
yet rosier blush over a eomtenance 
early tinged by generous libations, 
and from beneath the curtain of his 
pallid eyelashes his laige and rotund 
orbs gleamed dazifingly on the new^ 
comers. Snchy reader! was the 
aiqtect and the oecnpation of the 
venerable man whom we have long 
since taught thee to admire ; such^-* 
alas Ibr the nmtaMl&ties of earth !— 
was— » nrw chapter only oan contain 
the name. 

o 2 



m 



PAUL CLIPFORD. 



CHAPTBB XXVII. 
Caliban^'** Hut thon not dnq;>ped from Hearen ? "-^Tempett. 



PiTXB Mao Gbawlxb 



I 



CHAPTBB XXVIII, 

' God blMB our King and Parllamant* 
And send he vaay make nich knaTeg repent ! ** 

Lopal Songt against the Bump Parliament. 

* Bo, treachery ! my guardi^ my eimeter I "— BvaoK, 



VThbh the irreverent Mr. Pepper 
had warmed his hands safficiently to 
be able to transfer them from the fire, 
he lifted the right palm, and, with an 
indecent joculuity of spirits, accosted 
the ci-devant ornament of " The Asi- 
nsenm " with a sounding slap on his 
back— -or some mch part of his 
conformation. 

"Ah, old boy I" said he, "is this 
the way you keep house for us 1 A 
fire not large enough to roast a nit, 
and a supper too small to fatten him 
beforehand! But how the deuce 
should you know how to provender 
for gentlemen] Ton thought you 
•were in Scotland, Ill.be bound ! " 

" Perhaps he did, when he looked 
upon you, Ned!" said Tomlinson, 
gravely; " 'tis but rarely out of Scot- 



land that a man can see so big a 
rogue in so little a compass ! " 

Mr. Mac Qrawler, into whose eyes 
the palmistry of Long Ned had 
brought tears of sincere feeling, and 
who had hitherto been rubbing the 
afflicted part, now grumbled forth,— 

"You may say what you please, 
Mr. Pepper, but it is not often in my 
country that men of genius are seen 
performing the part of cook to rob- 
bers!" 

"No!" quoth Tomlinson, "they 
are performing the more profitable 
part of robbers to cooks, eh ! " 

"Dammee, you're out,'* cried Long 
Ned ; "for in that country, there are 
either no robbers, because there is 
nothing to rob ; or the inhabitants 
are all robbers, who have plundered 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



197 



one another^ and made away with the 
booty!" 

«< May the de*il catch thee ! " said 
Mac Grawler, stnng to the quick,— 
for, like all Scots, he was a patriot ; 
much on the same principle as a 
woman who has the wont children 
makes the best mother. 

*' The de'il 1 " said Ned, mimicking 
the ''silver sound," as SirW. Scott 
has been pleased fiicetiously to call the 
''mountain tongue," — ^the Scots in 
general seem to think it is silver, they 
keep it so carefully. "The de'il — 
Mac DeU, you mean, — sure the gen- 
tleman must have been a Scotchman !" 

The sage grinned in spite; but 
remembering the patience of Epicte- 
tus when a ^ve, and mindful also of 
the strong arm of Long Ned, he 
curbed his temper, and turned the 
beefsteaks with his fork, 

" Well, Ned," said Augustus, throw- 
ing himself into a chair which he 
drew to the fire, while he gently patted 
the huge limbs of Mr. Pepper, as if to 
admonish him that they were not so 
transparent as glass—" let us look at 
the fire ; and, by the by, it is your 
turn to see to the horses." 

"Plague on it! "cried Ned, "itis 
always my turn, I think, Holla> you 
Scot of the pot ! can't you prove that 
I groomed the beasts last 3 1 11 give 
you a crown to do it." 

The wise Mao Grawler pricked up 
his ears. 

"A crown ! ** said he,—" a crown 1 
do you mean to insult me, Mr. Pepper? 
But, to be sure, you did see to the 
horses last, and this worthy gentleman, 
Mr.TomlinBon,must remember it too." 

" How, I ! " cried Augustus ; " you 
are mistaken, and 1 11 give you half a 
guinea to prove it." 

Mac Grawler opened his eyes larger 
and larger, even as you may see a 
small circle in the water widen into 
enormity, if you disturb the equanimity 
of the surfiice by the obtrusion of a 
foreign substance* 



''Half a guinea I" sud he; "nay, 
nay, you joke ; I 'm not mercenary,^ 
you think I am I Pooh, pooh I you 
are mistaken; I'm a man who 
means toed, a man of veracity, and 
will speak the truth in spite of all the 
half guineas in the world. But cer« 
tainly, now I begin to think of it, 
Mr. Tomlinsoh did see to the crea- 
tures last,— and, Mr, Pepper, it is 
your turn." 

'* A very Daniel J " said Tomlinson, 
chuckling in his usual dry manner. 
"Ned, don't you hear the horses 
neigh 1" 

"Oh, hang the horses!" said the 
volatile Pepper, forgetting every thing 
else, as he thrust his hands in his 
pockets, and felt the gains of the 
night; let us first look to our win* 
ningsl" 

So saying, he marched towards the 
table, and emptied his pockets 
thereon: Tomlinson, nothing loath, 
followed the example. Havens! what 
exclamations of delight issued from 
the scoundrels' lips, as, one by one, 
they inspected their new acquisitions. 

" Here's a magnificent creature ! " 
cried Ned, handling that superb 
watch studded with jewels which the 
poor earl had once before unavailingly 
redeemed : " a repeater, by Jove I " 

" I hope not," said the phlegmatic 
Augustus; "repeaters will not tell 
well for your conversation, Ned ! But, 
powers that be I look at this ring, — a 
diamond of the first water ! " 

" Oh, the sparkler J it makes one's 
mouth water as much as itself. 
'Sdeath, here's a precious box for a 
sneezer !— a picture inside, and rubies 
outside. The old fellow had excellent 
taste I it would charm him to see how 
pleased we are with his choice of 
jewellery | " 

" Talking of jewellery," said Tom* 
linson, " I had almost forgotten the 
morocco case; between you and me, 
I imagine we have a prize there : it 
looks like a jewel casket 1 " 



IBS 



.FAUIi cuxrovD. 



. Bo BajiBg; tbe nUMlr •petaid tiiat 
ease which oa many ft . gria 6&j had 
lent lustre to tlie polnhad ?eip>B «f 
Kanlevwer. O leider, the horst ti 
xaptupe that enned 1 imag^ itl we 
cannot expceM it 1 LBoe the Ondaa 
painter, we drop a tbU i>i«r ei 
too de^ iior worda. 

''Bat here," aaid Pappeiv 
th^ had almeat pidnmsfted 
tnuuiports at sight of the' 
\' here's a pune— Utir^unaaal And 
what's this) Mtea, by Jivpikr! We 
must chaage themjtDjmoosow hefcie 
they are stopped. Corse these M- 
lows at the Bank ! ihegr aae ahrays 
unitBting vs; we stop tiieir 
and thsj don% leae a nonsnt in 
stopping it tea. Thaae haadi 
poomds t Capftann, wbat ssf jwa ia 
our luck V* 
' Cljffbrd had aat glaeiiBl^ laoking 
on, dndnglhe jeq^emtaonA «f the 
hers; he aow, .asHumag a oe 
pendent eh^rliil&ess of aaanec^ nsade 
a siuAaiUe lepfy, sdadafter j 
eonrersatisn, the wozfc ai 

took p^ f MH ^. 

^ ''WearathebeataritfanieiiiaMurin 
tiie world 1* said Jbignstas, as lie 
ponehed Us shaae: ^'addition, arib- 
traetion, diiuion, aadnfltioB^— ^eos hape 
them all as pat as "the Toior^s 
Assistant ;' and, what is hetter, we 
we make them all appUcaUe to iiie 
Mule of Thrse," 

''Ton have kft oat aaalt^Mesr 
tion r Bfdd CUifibrd, smiling. 

''Ah J because diiat mtAA SUfer- 
ently ; the other rales apfdy to ihe 
q>ecie-s of the ksngdoa ; but as Ibr 
moltiplication, we mriktif Ij, I Hbsi; as 
spedes but our ovm !" 

" Fie, gentlemen t ** said ICae Qam- 
ler, aa8terely,-^&r theee is a wonderiul 
decorum in your true Scotianen. Ae* 
t&ons are trifles; aiothiag «an be 
eleaner than their toords / 
. " Oh, you thcBst in yaicr wisdom, 
do .ymi r said Ned. ^' I suppeee you 
want your ^art of idie ha^ tgr t * { 



linson. " He has nine times as sasqr 
parts aa m haae already. Is he not 
a-entiei, and has he aot tfche parte af 
speech at hia fiageza* sad r 

"KoaMBvr SMd Mac Oiawlm; 
itattisntBYsiy holdtog np his handi^ 
with the fork^Bspptog hetonea the 
of 4he right 



ffidL ITad; 
"yoM hares share la what Tanaeper 
taoki Apte^yidltow.tndbr! Maad 
yaar bnstoeas, Jfc fieot, and itOs, 
nothing hat the haefrtodDs r 
Vj(thiUal9«d tvacdto tito BteUo^ 

henes; 1n^ OiffM, tjwmg fAa^Bs* 
appmstod aad eager ftca ef ike ciUf 
aaryaage, taak tn gnaaeaa fraai ids 
wm Aim, aad puahad thoa tmrnda 
his quondam .tatiA 
" Tfaorei" aaid hi^ enofduifierfiyi 
"Far, nagr/ granted MaeOcawler^ 
^I don't aaniihe j»QB^,r-it is asjr 
a^rtoseasaaueh^tiaasr' Beasgriag^ 
he peckefeed the aaini^ and t n ia od , 
Muitedag to himarit to the jaaeiaai 
ef his ieafiiye psBparattoaa. 

Meanwhile a whiiyfred isoanren^ 
tion took plaae betweea Asgastas and 
tito captain, jnd eanMas»d loH 2M 



Ssakxif PoaliapihaelaBd Amhnose 
Lamela, what a charming thiagitia 
to tea Eogue liar a little time ! How 
menry menarewhenthegr harecheated 
their biciiiBBn i TourianeoeBit maik- 
sqM newer made 4se joByjiwipperaa 
did onr henaea «f tiK aagr. CQiflbii, 
peflhapa, noted a part, hut ihei hBaiity 
«f ihis jQO|m»des was nntelgned. U 
was a delicious ck>Btnat/--4)he beia- 

xm ^ha^hai" of Laeg ISTed, and 
tiie aecrat, diy^ cadeuhding vlme^le af 
Aaguatas TomiiBBea. It was Bahelada 
ilgaiast y«]aaate. fSMy fauted oaJ^ 
in the e^seete of tfihair jeate, and Ibia- 
most of those objecte Xaaadmn ia eaer 



.TAWL CUSTOBD. 



IflD 



the butt of ibe MmSohiI) hw. the 
great Peter Mius Qia;wiex. 

The graoeleiB dogs vem aipedally 
■merry upon the ralgdei of tbe aa^'s 
former occuptttssn. 

'' Come, Hfte, joa caxre this luon/* 
said Ned; ''youlHuneliadiffiMtiice.ia 
eatting up.'' 

The kanied astanirhaBe aaneTrRB 
ihuB disvefiiieot&Uy abbisefviated piro- 
ceeded to perfosm wlui lie i«fi h&d. 
He WM aibout to nt down lor that 
.purpose, when Tonliaaoa aliiy sub- 
tracted his <Amx, — ^tbe sa^ lelL 

" Ko jesta at Mac Orawler^" said 
the malicious Aatgastas; -^wfaateter 
be his j&rults as ActHaiB, you aee ihat 
he is veil grounded,, and he gets at 
once to the b<rttoa of a Bui:ject — 
,Mac, suppose yew next work be en- 
titled a Taa2 of Woe J ** 

Men who have great minda we 
rarely flexible; they do not take & 
jert reada^; so it was with Mac 
.Gxawlira^ He rose in a Tiolent rage ; 
and had therohhers been mone pene- 
.trating than they oondeseeBded to be, 
ihey might hare noticed jometibing 
dax^erom in his eyt. As it was, 
Clifford, who had oCten before been 
the protector of his tutoi; interpeaad 
in his behalf, drew the aage « seat 
near to himsdf, and filled his plate 
for hia. It was iaieeesting to see 
.this deference £nm Bower to Leani- 
ing! It was Aftftwandcr doing homage 
.to Aristotile I 

'* There is only one thing I rc^nad^'' 
ccried ¥ad, with Ma moutfalal, "jabont 
the old lord, — ^it was a thousand pit&es 
we did iu»t make him' dance I I re- 
xnember the day, qqiftatm, when ysou 
would ha;re insisted on it. What a 
merry fellow you were once 1 I>o you 
recollect, one i^tight jnoonlighi night, 
just like the pzomit, lor mstanee, 
when we weie doing duty near fiitaines, 
•how yon swore evieiy person we 
Bto|q>ed, above ^ yean old, ehonld 
dance a minoet with yon r 
\ <' Ay J" added Augnatus, ''and the 



first was a Ushbp'ia n wMte wig. 
Faith, how stiffly his lordship jigged 
it 1 And how gntfieiy Lovett bowed 
to himji widi his hat off, when it was 
all over, and itetumed him his watch 
and ten guineas,— it was worth the 
sacfSfieer 

'' And the next was an old maid of 
quality," aaad Ked, ''as lean as a 
lawyer. Don't you remember how 
she curvetted r 

"To be sure^" said Tomlinson; 
''and you veiy wittily called her a 
i^polei'' 

" How delighted she was with the 
captain's suavity ! When he gave her 
back her earrings and cdgrette^ she 
bade him with a tender sigh keep 
them for her sake,— ha ! ha 1" 

" And tiie Ihird was a beau \** cried 
Augustus; *and Lovett surrendered 
his right of partnership to me. Do you 
recollect how I danced his beauship 
into the ditch ?— ^h ! we were mad 
fellows then; but we get sated — 
Ua^, as the Pzench s%y— as we groir 
older!" 

^ We look «nly to13ie main chance 
now," said Ned. 

"Avarice supersedes enterprise^" 
added the seutentioiis Augustus. 

"And our captain takes to wine 
with an h after the wt^ eonimued 
the metaphorical l^ed. 

^ Come, we are melaneholy," said 
Tomlinson, tossiug off a bumper. 
t* Me*hink« we are ivoKy growing old. 
we shall vepept soon, and tiM next 
step will be — Changing !** 

**'^xt Gbd!" said STed, helping 
himself, ^don^ be so craaldng. These 
are two olaases of maligned gentty, 
who should always be particular to 
amd oertain eblours In dressing: I 
hate to see a true boy in black, or a 
devil in .Uue. But here's my last 
glass to-night t I am oonfoundedly 
sle^y, and we rise early to^tMrfow.** 

"Right, Ked," said Tomlinson; 
''give US a song belbre you retire, 
and let it be that one which Love<it 



200 



PAUL CUFFOBD. 



compoBed the last time we were 
here." 

Ned, always pleased with an oppor- 
tunity of displaying himself, cleared 
his Yoioe and complied, 

A DITTY FROM SHERWOOD^ 

1. 
«< Laugh with ns at the prince and the 
palace, 
In the wild wood«life there is better cheer ; 
Would you hoard your mirth from your 
seighbour's malice. 
Gather it up in our gamen here. ' 
Sqpie kings their wealth from their subjeota 
wring, 
While by their foes they the poorer wax ; 
Free go the men of the wise wood-king. 

And it is only our foes we tax. 
Leare the cheats ,of trade to the shrewd 
gude-wife : 
Let the old be knaves at ease ; 
Away with the tide of that dashing life 
Which is stirred by a constant breeze ! 

9. 

Laugh with us when you hear deceiving 

And solemn rogues tell you what knaves 
we be; 
Commerce and law have a method of 
thieving 

Worse than a stand at the outlaw's tree. 
Say, will the maiden we love despise 

Gallants at least to each other true? 
I grant that we trample on legal ties. 

But I have heard that Love scorns them 
too. 
Ck)urage, th6n,«-courage, ye Jolly boys. 

Whom the fool with the knavish rates : 
Oh t who that is loved by the world enjoys 

Half as much as the man it hates ? *\ 

" Bravissimo, Ned I " cried Tomlin- 
Bon, rapping the tahle; ''bravissimo ! 
your voice is superb to-night, and 
your song admirable. Beally, Lovett, 
it does your poetical genius great 
credit ; quite philosophical, upon my 
honour." 

"Bravissimol" said Mac Grawler, 
nodding his head awfully. ''Mr. 
Pepper's voice is as sweet as a bagpipe ! 
— ^Ah I such a song would have been 
invaluable to ' The Asinaeum,' when I 
had the honour to —•' " 

"Be Vicar of Bray to that estab- 
Ushment,"^ interrupted Tomlinson. 



"Pray, Mac Grawler, why do th<^ 
call Edinburgh the Modem Athensl" 

" Because of the learned and great 
men it produces," returned Mac GraW'» 
ler, with conscious pride. 

^'Pooh! pooh!— -you are thinking 
of andemt Athens. -Tour city ifi 
called the modem Athens, because 
you are all so like the modefm Athe- 
nians, — the greatest scoundrels ima- 
ginable, unless travellers belie them." 

'* Nay," interrupted Ned, who was 
softened by the applause of the critic, 
"Mac is a good fellow, spare him. 
Gentlemen, your health. I am going 
to bed, and I suppose you will not 
tarry long behind me." 

" Trust us for that," answered Tom- 
linson ; " the captain and I will con- 
sult on the business of the morrow, 
and join you in the twinkling of a 
bedpost, as it has been shrewdly ex- 
pressed." 

Ned yawned his last "good night," 
and disappeared within the dormitory. 
Mac Grawler yawning also, but with 
a graver yawn, as became his wisdom, 
betook hbnself to the duty of remov- 
ing the supper paraphernalia: after 
bustling soberly about for some 
minutes, he let down a press-bed in 
the comer of the cave (for he did not 
sleep in the robbers' apartment), and 
undressing himself, soon appeared 
buried in the bosom of Morpheus. 
But the chief and Tomlioson, drawing 
their seats nearer to the dying embers, 
defied the slothful god, and entered 
with low tones into a close and anxious 
commune. 

"So then,** said Augustus, "now 
that you have realised sufficient funds 
for your purpose, you will really 
desert us, — have you well weighed the 
proa and conaF Bemember, that 
nothing is so dangerous to our state 
as reform ; the moment a man grows 
honest, the gang forsake him; the 
magistrate misses his fee ; the informer 
peaches ; and the recusant hangs." 
"I have well weighed all this," 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



201 



answered Clifibrd, '' and have' decided 
on my course. I have only tarried 
till my means could assist my wUl. 
With my share of our present and 
late booty, I shall betake myself to 
the Continent. Prussia gives easy 
trusty and ready promotion, to all 
vho will enUst in her service* But 
this language, my dear friend, seems 
strange from your lips, Surely you 
will join me in my separation from 
the corps? What! you shake your 
head ! Are you not the same Tomlin- 
son who at Bath agreed with me that 
we were in danger from the envy of 
our comrades, and that retreat had 
become necessaiy to our safety ? Nay, 
was not this your main argument for 
our matrimonial expedition V 

"Why, look you, dear Lovett," 
said Augustus, ''we are all blocks of 
matter, formed from the atoms of 
custom; — in other words, we are a 
mechanism, to which habit is the 
spring. What could I do in an 
honest career? I am many years 
older than you. I have lived as a 
rogue till I have no other nature than 
roguery. I doubt if I should not be 
a cowud were I to turn soldier. I 
am sure I should be the most con- 
fiummate of rascals were I to affect to 
be honest. No : I mistook myself 
when I talked of separation. I must 
e'en jog on with my old comrades^ 
and in my old ways, till I jog into 
the noose hempen — or, melancholy 
alternative, the noose matrimonial 1" 

"This is mere folly," said Clifford, 
^m whose nervous and masculine 
mind habits were easily shaken. " We 
have not for so many years discarded 
all the servile laws of others, to be 
the abject slaves of our own weak- 
nesses. Come, my dear fellow, rouse 
yourself. Heaven knows, were I to 
auccumb to the feebleness of my own 
heart, I should be lost indeed. And 
perhaps, wrestle I ever so stoutly, I 
do not wrestle away that which clings 
within me, and will kill me, though 



by inches. But let us not be cravens, 
and suffer &te to drown us rather 
than swim. In a word, fly with me 
ere it be too late. A smuggler's 
vessel waits me off the coast of Dorset : 
in three days from this I sail. Be my 
companion. We can both rein a fiery 
horse, and wield a good sword. As 
long as men make war one against 
another, those accomplishments will 
prevent their owner from starving, 
or " 

"If employed in the field, not the 
road," interrupted Tomlinson, with a 
smile,— "from hanging. But it cannot 
be I I wish you all joy— all success 
in your career : you are young, bold, 
and able ; and you always had a 
loftier spirit than I have ! Knave I 
am, and knave I must be to the end 
of the chapter!" 

"As you will," said Clifford, who 
was not a man of many words, but 
he spoke with reluctance: if so, I 
must seek my fortune alone." 

"When do you leave us]" asked 
Tomlinson. 

" To-morrow, before noon. I shall 
visit London for a few hours, and 
then start at once for the coast ! " 

*' London ! " exclaimed Tomlinson ; 
"what, the very den of danger? — Pooh ! 
you do not know what you say : or, 
do you think it filial to caress Mother 
Lobkins before you depart ) " 

" Not that," answered Clifford. "I 
have already ascertained that she is 
above the reach of all want ; and her 
days, poor soul ! cannot, I fear, be 
many. In all probability, she would 
scarcely recognise me ; for her habits 
cannot much have improved her 
memory. Would I could say as much 
for her neighbours ! Were I to be 
seen in the purlieus of low thievery, 
you know, as well as I do, that some 
stealer of kerchiefs would turn informer 
against the notorious Captain Lovett." 

"What, then, takes you to town? 
Ah !— you turn away your fiwse. — I 
guess 1 Well, Love has ruined many • 



392 



.PAUIiOEilTOBD. 



CyiM did BOi msfm, «nd tbe 
eraivfiviatiom xxuKte • aaddcn and Iah^ 
Pmm; TomIibmb teoke iiL 

<'Do Jon know* l^wtC mU he, 
"ihwifik I ]uiw M attiie kauri m 
. most mm, jei I fed Ibv j<9n aore 
thaa I eonld hftye dMMglii it i^aiiUe. 
I would &»>«aymi; thareis^evllidi 
.goodtobtoM.ia QeEmiiiyj IMiere; 
and, after all, there is not ao xamdi 
dififenence MvBen tbfi tife of & tiiief 
jiadofaaoMiorr 

<'DopDeit)i^M 
laid Cli&id. ''Saiaet hm certain 
.«f deatinietioK is tke |M4k yM xmw 
tnad: Oie ffUlMm Mid the kiOka are 
tbe only foala ! " 

" Tbe proafNMta ane aot pkMing; I 
allow/' said TomliiaMa; ''nor ia it 
4esirable to be jpreaorfad Inr another 
oentazy in tbe ijnmoxtality of a glaBS 
caae in SaigeoM' HaU^grixnia^ fnuai 
ear to ear, aa if one luid siade the 
BMrrieBb finate inM««naUe«— WeU ! I 
will Bleep on it, and yoi| ahaU hare 
my answer toHosmtow; — but poor 
^edV 

'« Wanld he iiot join ua T 

''Oertalntr sat: his tnad^M made 
.forAH^, Mid hia nlMllarl^Old 
Bailey. Tk&» fia bo hope for baa ; 
yet be ia aa esoeHeAt leHow. W« 
must notevoft teU jdaa ti oar laadi- 
tated deaerUan." 

"By no neMUk I «haU Ifeam a 
letter to our Landon chief: ii will 
«zplaiji all. And. new to bed^ 
look to yonr flanpaniflnHWy as 
aettled.'' 

^'HasaphK aaid Aiwoatiiji Ton- 
Unaan. 

So ended thp eeMfeeenee of tbe 
Tobbera. Abant an bear alter it bad 
«eaaed, and when aa aoand aaTo the 
heavy breath af Lo^ ISed broke tbe 
aUlbMBB «f tbe mghi, the inteUigeat 
eoHsteoance of Peter Mae Gvawler 
slowly elerated itself fijom the loaeiy 
$aUow Ml which i( bad noilne^. 



tebacfc «f thai ^ 
atUEaaed into perpendieularily. and 
ba sai lor A law monents aKe<^ on bs6 
aeat «f bniwai^ apparently in listeBing 
deHfafiiaiiaiL flatiafiad with tbe deep 
ailanea that^ Mm the aolitaiy intsr- 
vuption we have ifteoified, reignad 
aconndt tba learned diacaple af Yatel 
raae gaatly frant ike b6id,-~4uuzaBd 
on hia elothefv-^tola on tiptoe to tbe 
4oor, nahanred it with a noiaeleas 
han<V--aBd vaauahad. Sweat iieadar I 
while than art wondaris^ at Us 
wa aooount for bis 



appearanee. 

Oaa^fmmgt OUffbrd aiMibia eon- 
panion JugMriavi had been aqieyuig 
the rational awnawannt e/ ]toelac», 
and weoB joat leariqg that oelebratad 
plaee when they weaa arreafeed by a 
crowd at the -eotcanceb That cpawd 
was amy tabled imind a pickpoeikat; 
and that piebpoekat— O Tirtne i~^ 
wisdom !~-0 Aamseaai !-^iRaa Peter 
J£a4s Grawler t We bare bef^kre aaid 
that Qlifford vas posaaaaad of a good 
mJen and an impoepig nMaoner^ aad 
tbeae advant^^es wane at Ibat tiaie 
aspeeiaUy affeotaal ha preservini; mit 
; Orbiliaa froBi tba pump. JK^ sooner 
did Clifford veoi^Dtaa the ma^iaterial 
laae of the aapiamb Scat, than be 
baldly ihsaat him^lf into «he middle 
of the croawi, aadcaUansg the eoUr- 
priaii^«itiatfi wbo had collared liac 
Cteawkr, dsdared kkmsel/ readj to 
Toneb fe the haAea^ of the Teaor 
respeetable paraQBiwhaaa identity h^d 
evadeeily been ae praaaly niataken. 
Aagufltes, probably fareaeeiaog aoifte 
inseniaaa ruge of hia compaaaon'a, 
inatanljly aeeonded the dcifienee. The 
mob^ who aavca: daacry say difiureiiae 
between impadenca and tratb* ^aiire 
way ; a •CDoalable eaaie ap — ^took part 
with tbe fiaand of two genfleiBcai.ao 
unexo^ptionably d«Baad--OQr frienda 
walked off— tbe orowd r^ented of 
their piecipitatioii^ and, by waiy of 
anenda, dncked tba^peBttentan wboae 
pockets b»d been piokad. It waa in 



.T^Vli CUTFDfiD. 



IMS 



vaia ibr Un io^^ffoad iuflUoU; for Iw 
had aa isipeiiimfint an hUxpoeoh ; ttad 

tOttce Ibr lus gnat^daidsedliim a woMtd 
ttime for Msi •eMbarxftMmeit 

In the iolifina* €2i&r<l iukb wilii- 
4rawii hki ^pnondun Meotor la tibe 
owgrlnm of a c«ftM-lu>i«e; and nidie 
^ac Giavlflr-0 ioid e^Miidbd Umiikf 
wiRe, he oaaBatcKi the csuaei itf Ub 
idUemaka. li mtrm (fehut Ihafr iiMom- 
l^arahle jonnial ^The AwtwHimi/* 
despite a aenes of swat popular 
.jartkdea apon the^^milattga of * JUilus 
Prttdeii;tuiB,^' ta mbkk wve addad an 
, fijcqnifiite sismg af dialdgBee^ ^vrsbfcea 
in a 4oBe of broad lauaoitr, txs.^ haaad 
Scotch (mth Ssotehmen it is afl iihe 
saaud thin|^)»dQq>ite iheia anodnaUe 
mifioeUaAies^ to ucr wMjug. af aiaae 
glorLottA pc^ical artiolflt, in «hich vt 
was eleadj provad io the aatirfEitibioa 
of the rich, that the Ims poor daiite 
.aat, the better ftr thfiur coaatitiiions, 
— despite, we mf, ffceae greaA ae^jcd- 
Mtions to Britiiah literatave, ''The 
AsinadiiiB" tottansd, fell, baried ite 
bookseller, and crushed its atuttior.: 
Hac Gsamrter only— eaea^nqg^ iike 
TheodoKo tern the •flaarmoBB hdmeii 
«f Otranito-— Mac Oranrler onlj anr- 
Tived. ''JLoTe/aayafiir Phiiip Sad- 
jksy, ''aiakas amanaae better ithaaa 
paor of speetaelfiB." Lots of 3zfe iiaa a 
very dififeneat effect on the opties^'^it 
.mato a tuol wofaUj dim -of inspee- 
tion, and somatiiaea caoaesiiiai taaoe 
his own property in aaatfaer maa'a 
puna! This deoepHo 'msfUs, did H 
impose iqMia Peter Mac <QrawIar3 He 
went to Baafdagh. jBfiadat; tium 
knoweattheB^i 

Wine and Ibe ingBnidiiraf the rab- 
Ihers having extorted ihis naixatUre 
iroan Mae Graivier, i&e foameca af 
itnperfluons delicacy irere eaaHydane 
awaj with. 

. Our heroes offered to the sage an 
introdaetioa to their dub ; the offer 
.was acoepitod; and Mac Orawlov 
having been iint aiade drank, «ae 



jaeatt 9ade a aDbhor. i^e gaag en- 
gaged him in various little ma4*ten, 
in whkh we griete «a relate that, 
"dkOBgh. hia loteBtloBS were exeeltoat, 
his success was so ill as thorenghfy do 
oarage hia ^aapJagrexa ; aay, they were 
about at.aae time^ adiea they vaated 
to panqpatiale jasfeiae, to hand ham 
aver to tha aendqr power, when KM- 
fimUnterpoaad in Jeb b^lf; From 
A robber iha aage dwindled into a 
dzatdge; aaaaal olBees (lOie robbers, 
the lyiag raaeafa^ deelared that fsotki 
offiees ware beat fitted to the gaaaas 
of his Gomatryi) tflaooeeded to noUe 
etafiabM, and ^a wont of robbeas 
heeuae the beat of eooka. HJowvain 
is all wisdian but tiiat of long e^qW' 
xaesLGe! Though CSiifovd was a aoa- 
aible aad keen nauv — ^thangh he knew 
aar sage to he a fcaaTie, he na?ar 
daeaaied he jcaold he a traatos. Qe 
^hooghit him too indolent to he mafi- 
4cious, aiML-HdiaFt^Bghtad haatanilty! 
•—too vHif to he dangoaas. fie 
tsnated die aage with ^he secret of the 
aBrera; and AagastuB, ivho was a 
bii of ran <€[pienr^ aubnitted, tthae^ 
isrebodingV) ^ ^« dioiee, ba- 
canae of tha Seatchaian's jdofl^in 
haailiagr 

Bat Mae OEawIcr,. like BmtaB, eoa- 
eeaied a sehendng heut under a Btoiid 
gniaB ; the apprehension of the noted 
Lovett had became a matter of aextoas 
deaire ; Ihe peliee was no longer tolis 
bnbad : najr, they weae aaw eager to 
bribe ;--Mao iSrvaier had watched his 
time--aeld his chia( aad waa aaw4m 
the road to Eeadiag, to meet and to 
gmde to ihe csvann Mr. l!lahbem<af 
Bow dtreat aad teraf hjaattendanka. 

Haimig thus, as«p&diy as we wese 
aide, traced the 4ai,UBeB which beonglHt 
fio atartifingly betee your notice the 
moat ineomfianhto of erttics, ^ae Jiaar^ 
reader, return to aor robbers* 

'.'HSat, Lovettr said Tomlinson, 
halfaaieeiv "methonght I heard aoina- 
thing in the outor eave." 
_^it JetheBeot; laofpoee," answeied 



m 



PAUL CLIPFOKD. 



Clifford : *' you saw, of coarse, to the 
doorl" 

"To be snrel" muttered Tom- 
linfloxL, and in two minutes more he 
was asleep. 

Not so Clifford ; many and anxious 
thoughts kept him waking. At one 
while, when he anticipated the open- 
ing to a new career, somewhat of the 
stirring and high spirit which still 
moved amidst the goilty and confused 
habits of his mind made his pulse 
feverish, and his limbs restless : at 
another time, an agonising remem- 
brance—the remembrance of Lucy in 
all her charms, her beauty, her love, 
her tender and innocent heart, — ^Lucy 
all perfect, and lost to him for ever, 
banished every other reflection, and 
only left him the sick sensation of 
despondency and despair. "What 
avails my struggle for a better name V 
he thought. " Whatever my future 
lot, she can never share it. My 
punishment is fixed, — it is worse than 
a death of shame ; it is a life without 
hope! Every moment I feel, and 
shall feel to the last, the pressure of a 
chain that may never be broken or 
loosened ! And jet, fool that I am ! 
I cannot leave this country without 
seeing her again, without telling her, 
that I have recUly looked my last. 
But have I not twice told her that 1 
Strange fatality! But twice have I 
spoken to her of love, and each time 
it was to tear myself from her at the 
moment of my confession. And even 
now something that I have no power 
to resist compels me to the same idle 
and weak indulgence. Does destiny 
urge me ) Ay, perhaps to my destruc- 
tion ! Every hour a thousand deaths 
encompass me. I have now obtained 
all for which I seemed to linger. I 
have won, by a new crime, enough to 
bear me to another land, and to pro- 
vide me there a soldier's destiny. I 
should not lose an hour in flight, yet 
I rush into the nest of my enemies, 
only for one unavailing word with her ; 



and this, too, after I have already bade 
her farewell 1 Is this &te? if it be 
so, what matters it) I nq longer 
care for a life which, after all, I should 
reform in vain, if I could not reform 
it for her : yet— yet, selfish, and lost 
that I am I will it be nothing to think 
hereafter that I have redeemed her 
from the disgrace of having loved an 
outcast and a felon 1 If I can obtain 
honour, will it not, in my own heart 
at least, — ^will it not reflect, however 
dimly and distantly, upon her 1 " 

Such, bewildered, unsatisfiictory, 
yet still steeped in the colours of that 
true love which raises even the lowest, 
were the midnight meditations <^ 
Clifford; they terminated, towards 
the morning, in an uneasy and fitfol 
slumber. From this he was awakened 
by a loud yawn from the throat of 
long Ned, who was always the earliest 
riser of his set. 

"Hollar said he, "it is almost 
daybreak ; and if we want to cash our 
notes, and to move the old lord's 
jewels, we should already be on the 
start" 

"A plague on you!" said Tom- 
linson, from under cover of his woollen 
nightcap; "it was but this instant 
that I was dreaming you were going 
to be hanged, and now you wake me 
in the pleasantest part of the dream !" 

" Tou be shot ! '- said Ned, turning 
one leg out of bed ; " by the by, you 
took more than your share last night, 
for you owed me three guineas for our 
last game at cribbage I Tou 11 please 
to pay me before we part to-day: short 
accounts make long friends ! ** 

"However true that maxim may 
be," returned Tomlinson, " I know one 
much truer, namely — ^long friends will 
make short accounts ! Tou must ask 
Jack Ketch this day month if I'm 
wrong I " 

" That's what you call wit, I sup- 
pose!" retorted Ned, as he now, 
struggling into his inexpressibles, felt 
his way into the outer cave. 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



205 



« What, ho J Mac ♦"cried he, as he 
went, "stir those bobbins of thine, 
which thou art pleased to call legs ; — 
strike a light, and be d— d to yon I" 
'' A light for you" said Tomlinson, 
profanely, as he reluctantly left his 
couch, ** will indeed be ' a light to 
lighten the Gentiles 1 ' '' 

« Why, Mac— Mac ! " shouted Ned, 
"why don't you answer 1 — ^fiiith, I 
think the Scot's dead 1" 

" Seize ^our men I — ^yield, sirs 1 " 
cried a stem, sndden voice firom the 
gloom ; and at that instant two dark 
lanterns were turned, and their light 
streamed full upon the astounded 
forms of Tomlinson and his gaunt 
comrade 1 In the dark shade of the 
background four or five forms were 
also indistinctly visible ; and the ray 
of the lanterns glinunered on the 
blades of cuthisses and the barrels of 
weapons still less easily resisted. 

Tomlinson was the first to recover 
his self-possession. The light just 
gleamed upon the first step of the 
stairs leading to the stables, leaving 
the rest in shadow. He made one 
stride to the place beside the cart, 
where, we have said, lay some of the 
robbers' weapons : he had been antici- 
pated — the weapons were gone. The 
next moment Tomlinson had sprung 
up the steps. 
" Lovett ! — Lovett I — Lovett ! " shout- 
ed he. 

The captain, who had followed his 
comrades into the cavern, was already 
in the grasp of two men. From few 
ordinary mortals, however, could any 
two be selected as fearful odds against 
such a man as Clifford ; a man in 
whom a much larger share of sinews 
and muscle than is usually the lot 
even of the strong had been hardened, 
by perpetual exercise, into a consist- 
ency and iron firmness which linked 
power and activity into a union 
scarcely less remarkable than that 
immortalised in the glorious beauty 
of the sculptured gladiator. His 



right blind is upon the throat of one • 
assailant, his left locks, as in a vice, 
the wrist of the other; you have 
scarcely time to breathe ; the formei^ 
is on the ground^-the pistol of the 
latter is wrenched from his gripe— 
Clifford is on the step— a b^ — 
another — whizzes by him! — he is 
by the side of the fiuthful Augustus ) 

" Open the secret door ! " whispered 
CUflbrd to his friend; "I will draw 
up the steps alone 1 " 

Scarcely had he spoken, before the 
steps were already, but slowly, ascend* 
ing beneath the desperate strength of 
the robber. Meanwhile, Ned was 
struggling, as he best might, with 
two sturdy officers, who appeared loath 
to use their weapons witiiout an abso- 
lute necessity, and who endeavoured^ 
by main strength, to capture and 
detain their antagonist. 

"Look well to the door!" cried 
the voice of the principal officer, " and 
hang out more light 1" 

Two or three additional lantems 
were speedily brought forward; and 
over the whole interior of the cavern 
a dim but sufficient light now rapidly 
circled, giving to the scene and to the 
combatants a picturesque and wild 
appearance ! 

The quick eye of the head-officer 
descried in an instant the rise of the 
steps, and the advantage the robbers 
were thereby acquiring. He and two 
of his men threw themselves forward, 
seized the ladder, if so it may be 
called, dragged it once more to the 
ground, and ascended. But Clifford^ 
grasping with both hands the broken 
shaft of a cart that lay in reach^ 
received the foremost invader with a 
salute that sent him prostrate and 
senseless back among his companions. 
The second shared the same fate ; and 
the stout leader of the enemy, who, 
like a true general, had kept himself 
in the rear, paused now in the middle 
of the steps, dismayed alike by the 
reception of his friends and the 



ape 



CAUL cxiFFoaa 



aiUefic hat iawmug Airmr iiftk 



nMed wespoB and a< 

P«fliftp0 thai ]BomeMl«ecBod ta tkt 

jvdkkwi Mr. ]M>bcn mom faffrnta- 

aUe to pari^thw «»cMiffict He 

ctoMrikiitiawrt^aaA 

tlMftie:-* 

''Toy, MV^ Cb|>tinfc LifveM^ alns 
Ho««rd, alia* Jafltnec^ jIim Gvreii- 
airik, aliaB SdcBODi^ aMw Deiil, fi>r I 
ka0ira jou. -welly, ad cmdd twmr to 
yon with half an e^i^ la ywa clothes 
ov irtthoat : 70R ]»7 down joar dab 
tibn^ and lei aw eMM aloagaide^ 
^ao^ and yooll ted tta M gsBlAe aa a 
laiB^; fiocI'TBbtaiwied t^geannon 
aft lay lili9^ aad I kaowahow to treat 
'«awlienlhaa'flait" 

''But if I will Ml Mr ya« 'tMne 
aJM^iido of Me,'--«wiiat tkemr 

** Whf, I BMi8t4Beiid.«aeof tbcaahera 
pops through yoaa akafl, that's all t" 

<«Nay, Mr. Kaftbem, that would be 
t#» cruel! Ten bbbb^ wrald not 
harm one who haa mik an estecoi 
for yea.? DoB^t yoo annei^ber the 
lianier in whiefa I beoag&i you oif 
i Jastioe BuaBflat, wina yoa were 
yoo kaoir whether jaatly 
or—" 

''Ton.'ie a-Us;, esptalmr eried 
Kabbem, furiously, fearful that tome- 
tkaag liot Ineet for the ean of his 
oMipaaioM shoald tnmapire. ** Yoo 
kaowayott aral Cobk dowa^ or let 
ma mount; otiierwiae I won% be 
'^peaaible for the oBnaeqaeBwes ! " 
. Clifford casta lookoterhisidiouMer. 
A g^eam of the gzeydaifiight already 
gfiauaered throagh a chiMk m the 
secret door, wh&diL ^omliason had 
now unbarred, and was about to* opea^ 

'' Listen to me, Mr. JBFaUtem^" nad 
ba^ "and perhaps I may gmt what 



^yaa leqAxt What would yon do 
wttk me if yaa had mar 

'*Taa ^cakfr lSk» a siaaiMe nan, 
now," aaewered Kabbeai ; ' mid that's 
after wf ow» heait. Wly, yeo sees, 
caftal% yoar ttee has toate^ and 
yen cw't sltf y^ehallf any longer. 
Tou haye had your feM swing ; year 
years are upy and yen mwt die Ke a 
man ! But I gireayea my hoaonr, as' 
a gemman, that H yon sBrrenders, 1 'B. 
taie yon to the juafice ib|k» as ten- 
deriy as if ;pNi were made of cotton." 

** Oi^ way oaa memento" aaid Cfif- 
fofd^ «*that i may^ plmt the steps 
firmarftiryoa!,'* 

HiAbem ratieated te* the groand, 
asd GUflbidy who> had, geod-natnredfy 
eaoDglv bean anwlHiag untneeeaaMiiy 
to daange as vahud^le a fcnetleiiary, 
lest not the ofrpevtraiity now afibrded 
hias^ Down lissa^tered the stepfl^ 
clatteraag hea^olf aawag the other 
ofieen^ and ftffliag' ^e an* avalanche 
oB the dianlder of one of the aneatenr 
ofLoagiared. 

Meaniidiil^ Ol^ford sprang^ itfter 
TealiasoB tfaaough the aperture, and 
f omd hiai fld J " i n the- preaence of Ibwr 
cfficen^ c a a d n efced l^the riirewd Macr 
OrawloR. A blow from a bludgeoa 
on the fi^t ehe^ and temple of 
A]i^siiis ibiled UkaJb heiv. But CM' 
ford bounded over his comrade's body, 
dodged from the stroke akned at him- 
self, caught the blow aimed by another 
aanilant iat liis open hand, wrested 
the bhtdgeon from the officer, struck 
him to the ground wil^ his own 
weapon,, and darting onward through 
tiie labyrmth of the wood, commenced 
his escape wHh a step too fleet to 
aUow the hope oi a sueeeasfnl pur- 
suit. 



FAVL cummD^ 



2«T^ 



CHAPTER XXIX / 

" < In Aort, liMtlMiUa,-! ofRr yo« mysdf * 
«Bwv«iur'cffedMteIlb»*wln(tA>riRBfff Tto, nr lord ?** 



I A somu is Mke a n^Ubvglni^ 
where the man appear^ out at.onr 
time^ikewoouoLafcaiKotiMr. Variable 
aa the staiioBpbcBe^tkeduBigMof our 
story new re- ptmrnL laxtj to the 
reader; 

Thst i^tarmfkig^ Tooff penen — 
Y^, ib ]B»y he igmariEeify is (her 
fttker eaeeptod) the only usepfaiBti' 
cated and vmnOktd danetei hi the 
pages €f a Btoty ia. sea* sMasare 
designed to • sherw, ia the depittvities 
of eharaeter, the depnuntifli of that 
social state wherein duBaefen aore 
formed'— was rittiag alens in her 
apartaeat at tike p»ied m which we 
retnin to her. As ixm», bmI that 
imiaAe and iaaeasil^ ftind ei Aeolnif, 
which Natare hasplaeed in.tii0 bosoDS 
of the yoQiig; ia eider tiist hergieat 
law, the paasing away ef th« old, Miay 
not leave too lastiagsad kee»»wo«nd, 
had softcaed her&st aagaUi at her 
father's death, ike ztmeBBhianc* of 
Gllflford again xesaMed its aacieBit 
sway in her heart The loaeOsieBs of 
hsr life, — the ajhsenee of aaBasenten^ 
--^vea the seositiffaMaB aad bugnor 
^dneh saceeed to gxie( eonq^ired to 
i&Test the iau^e^ of her lover ia a 
tenderer aad mere imfsessite gaise^ 
She recalled faia wordsy has actioBa^ 
his letteis, and employed herself whole 
hoars, whole days and nights^ to ea- 
dearooriag to decipher their aiystery. 
Who that has beea lored wiB not 
adnundedge the singuhur and mi^ifey 
force with which a girl, innocent her- 
Bdf, dings to the beH^ ef ianocenee 
in her lover 1 la breasts yoo^g sad 
nnaeqaainted with the worlds tiwre is 



BO pira a cndnttgr' to the ezisteneer 
of anmixad gee^ ■» firm arehtttanee 
to think that where we tovwthcie caa 
be that idubh wa woaU aot esteem^ 
or whese we admize tiaeieean be that 
which we ought to bkme, that one 
may afanost deem it an»argBaeat m 
fii?oaref ear matmm l paaer to attain 
a greater eminanse in vistaB^ ihaa the 
habits and arts of tiie enristing work! 
will allow ns to xeaeh. PeAaps it is 
not paradaxksal to say that we oovld 
Bcareeiy hehfeve peiflsetien m othen^ 
wece net the gena of peifectihility in 
oar own mxads i Whea a maa has 
lived soose! ysaonk amoag l^e actual 
contorts of toetion^ without habibiBg 
thepi^adieeatweli aa the experiense, 
how weaideria^ he smiles at his 
wenil% ef formar klalft^-^w dii- 
feveat a eotoar does Usteey wesr to 
hsml — ^hMT caatieaa a he now to 
pfaise t — hew afew to admira ! — ^how 
preae to cavil ( Hamaa aatare haa 
becQoie toe hmaiaa aataieef art ; and 
he estiaaitesiit aot from what it may 
be,, bed freai what>. in the eosraiptioBB 
of a seaxi^mBsatMti, it isl Bat in 
thasaaae mmmer as the yoangBlvdent 
cMi^ to the belief that toe sage or 
the miastrel, whor has eat^^teaad his 
reasoa or chained hia Tmagiaationy is 
in eharaeter as to geaios elevated 
above the ordtoaxy heidy fireo from 
the paasiona, the frivelitiai, the little 
meaaneaBet^ and the darhesoBg vices 
whtoh erdtoary flesh is heir to, does a 
wemaa,. who loves fer toe first time, 
cliag to toe imafpaed excellence of 
him she loves t When Evelina is so 
flhedLed at the idea of aa eceaakmal . 



m 



PAUL CLinrOBD. 



fitofhiioTlartlon in lier ''noUe, ber 
imriTalled'' lorer, who does not ae- 
knowledge how oatanl were her fed- 
Ingsl Had Ereliiia been married rix 
yearB, and the aame lorer, (Aei» her 
kutband, been ralljr gwHij of what 
she soipeeted, who does not fed that 
it would hare been rerj nnnatoral to 
have been shodced in the least at the 
oecnnenoel She would not hare loTed 
him lesi» nor admired him lesi» nor 
wonld he have been leas "the noble 
and the nnriTaUed," — he would hare 
taken his glass too mndi, hare joked 
the next moniing on the erent^ and 
the gentle Erelina wodd hare made 
him a enp of tea : bni that which 
would hare been a matter of pleasantly 
in the hnsband woold Ittve been 
matter of damnation in the lorer. — 
Bat to return to haej. 

If it be BO hard, so repdlent to be- 
Here a lorer guiltj eren of a triTial 
error, we may readily suppose that 
Lucy nerer for a moment admitted 
the supposition that Clifford had been 
really guilty of gross error or wilful 
crime. True, that expressions in his 
letter were more than suspicious ; but 
there is always a charm in the candour 
of self-condemnation. As it Ib difficult 
to beliere the excellence of those who 
praise themselves, so it is difficult to 
fimcy those crimbial who condenm I 
What, too, is the process of a woman's 
reasoning? Alas I she is too credulous 
a physiognomist The turn of a throat, 
with her, is the unerring token of 
nobleness of mind ; and no one can 
be guilty of a sin who is blest with a 
beautiful forehead 1 How fondly, how 
fanatically Lucy loved ! She had ga- 
thered together a precious and secret 
hoard ;— « glove— a pen — ^a book — ^a 
withered rose-leaf; — treasures ren- 
dered inestimable because he had 
touched them : but more than all, had 
she the series of his letters, from the 
first formal note written to her father, 
meant for her, in which he answered 
an invitation, and requested Miss 



Bhmdon's aoeqitaiiee of the mnne she 
had wished to have, to the hwt wfld 
and, to her, inexplicable letter in 
iriiieh he had rcngned her for ever* 
On these rdies her ^ea fed for honn ; 
and as she pored over them, and over 
thoughts too deep not cudj for tcan^ 
but for all utteranoe or oonvqranoe,yon 
might have almost literally watched 
the feding of her rich eheek, and the 
pining away of herioanded and eiastie 
fenn. 

It was just in sneh a mood that ahe 
was buried when her undo kno^ed aft 
her door for admittance : die hurried 
away her treasures, and hastened to 
admit and greet him. "Ihaveocnnes,'' 
said he, smiling, "to b^ the pleasoze 
of your company for an old firiend who 
dines with us tcvday. — ^But stay, Lney^ 
your hair is iU-amuiged. Do not let 
me disturb so important an occupation 
as your toilette: dress yourself my 
love, and join na." 

Lucy turned, with a suppressed agh, 
to the glass. The nnde lingered for 
a few moments, surveying her with 
mingled pride and doubt ; he thea 
dowly left the chamber. 

Lucy soon afterwards descended to 
the drawing-room, and beheld, with 
a little surprise (for she had not had 
sufficient curiosity to inquire the name 
of the guest), the dender form and 
comely features of Lord Mauleverer* 
The earl approached with the same 
grace which had, in his earlier youth, 
rendered him almost irresistible, bat 
which now, from the contrast of yearn 
with manner, contained a slight mix- 
ture of the comic He paid his com-* 
pliments, and in paying them, declared 
that he must leave it to his friend. 
Sir William, to expUiin aU the danger 
he had dared, for the sake of satisfying 
himself that Hiss Brandon was no leas 
lovely than when he had last behdd 
her. 

" Tes, indeed," said Brandon, with 
a scarcely perceptible sneer, "Lord 
Mauleverer has literally endured the 



PAUL CLIPFOKD. 



moving accidents of flood and field*— 
for he was nearly extenninated bj a 
highwayman, and all bnt drowned in 
aditch!" 

'* Commend me to a friend for set- 
ting one off to the best advantage/' 
said Manleverer, gaily. " Instead of 
attracting your sympathy, yon see, 
Brandon woold expose me to your 
ridicule : judge for yourself whether I 
deserve it;" — and Mauleveret pro- 
ceeded to give, with all the animation 
which belonged to his character, the 
particulars of that adventure with 
which the reader is so well acquainted. 
He did not, we may be sure, feel any 
scruple in representing himself and 
his prowess in the most &vourable 
colours. 

The story was scarcely ended when 
dinner was announced. During that 
meal, Mauleverer exerted himself to 
be amiable with infinite address. 
Suiting his conversation, more than 
he had hitherto deigned to do, to the 
temper of Luc^, and more anxious to 
soften than to dazzle, he certainly 
never before appeared to her so attrac- 
tive. We are bound to add, that the 
point of attraction did not reach be- 
yond the confession that he was a 
very agreeable old man. 

Perhaps, if there had not been a 
certain half-melancholy vein in his 
conversation, possibly less uncongenial 
to his lordship firom the remembrance 
of his lost diiunonds, and the impres- 
sion that Sir William Brandon's cook 
was considerably worse than his own, 
he might not have been so successful 
in pleasing Lupy. As for himself, all 
{he previous impressions she had made 
on him returned in colours yet more 
vivid ; even the delicate and subdued 
cast of beauty which had succeeded to 
her earlier brilliancy, was far more 
charming to his fastidious and courtly 
taste than her former glow of spirits 
and health. He felt himself very much 
in love during dinner; and after it was 
over, and Lu^ had retired, he told 

No. 34 



Brandon with a passionate air, "that 
he adored his niece to distraction ! " : 

The wily judge affected to receive 
the intimation with indifference ; but 
knowing that too long an absence is 
injurious to a grande pcunon, he did 
not keep Mauleverer very late over 
his wine. 

The eail returned rapturously to 
the drawing-room, and besought Itucy^ 
in a voice in which affectation seemed 
swooning with delight, to indulge him 
with a song. More and more en> 
chanted by her assent, he drew the 
music-stool to the harpsichord, placed 
a chair beside her, and presently ap- 
peared lost in transport. Meanwhile 
Brandon, with his back to the pair, 
covered his face with his handker- 
chief, and to all appearance, yielded 
to the voluptuousness of an after- 
dinner repose. 

Lucy's song-book opened acciden- 
tally at a song which had been praised 
by Clifford ; and as she sang, her voice 
took a richer and more tender tone 
than in Mauleverer's presence it had 
ever before assumed. 

THE COMPLAINT OP THE VIOLETS 

WHICH LOSE THEIR SCENT 

IN MAY. 

1. 
'* In t]i6 ahadow that fallB from the sUeot 
hiU 
We dept, in our gfeen retreats : 
And the April ehowers wera wout to fill 
Our hearts with sweets. 



And though we lay in a lowly bower. 

Yet all things lored us well. 
And the waking bee left her fairest flower 

WithuatodweU. 

S. 
But the warm May came in his pride to woe 

The wealth of our honied store; 
And our hearts Just felt his breath, and knew 
Their sweets no more ! 



And the summer reigns on the quiet spot 
Where we dwell, and its suns and showers 

Bring balm to our tisUrt* heartsi but not«- 
Ah ! not to our9, 
9 14 



210 



EdUTL COOIVOBI^. 



We Uwt, «• Uoom, tei fnrjmr olsr 
Is tha ohann of tb« earth, and sJ^ : 

lV> ow life, ye henF«nB,.lluit telm natn« 
Ov-Udnadle!'' 



neoUeetun^ aadftveice wJiich suited 
away in an indescribable and ijh ffflllng 
Iftiboli, Luey oeated lier soog, Msol- 
eyerer, ckaniiedout of binueU; gently 
took her band^ and» holding tho soft 
tfeaaon in boa owi^ acaniely ten eofk^ 
he. smEBUiredb*'"' 

'. ^ Angel ! sing on. Life wonld be 
Vke your «wn musiCy if I oonld bnaihe 
it' away at yonr &et 1 " 

There had been a tim»wiken Lncy 
if{>uld haye hmghed outeoght at this 
deebucation ; and even as it was,, a enp- 
preesed and half-axeh smile played in 
tlie dimples of her beantifiil numth, 
and bewitcbingly coi^tiaeted the 
swimming softness of her eyes. 

Drawing rather an erroneous omen 
from thesmile, Manieverer raf^tonrasly 
continued, still detaining the lumd 
which lioey endeayoared to eztri* 
cate. 

"Tes, enchanting Miss Brandon! 
I who fakye fiur so many yean boasted 
of my inynlnerable heart, am subdued 
at last. I haye 'long, yery long, strug- 
gled against my attachment to you. 
AJaal it is in yain; and yon behold 
me now utterly at your mercy. Make 
me ,the most miserable of men, or 
the ' mdst enyiable. Enchantress, 
speak 1" 

"Really, my lord," said Lucy, hesi- 
tating,* yet rising, and freeiug herself 
from his hand, "I feel it d&cult to 
suppose you serious ;. and, ; perhaps, 
this is merely a gallantry to me, by 
way of praetioe on others;'' 

" Sweet Luey, if I may so call you," 
answered Mauleyerer, with an ardent 
gaze, " do not, I implore you, eten' 
for a moment, afieelt to mistake me ! 
do not fbr a moment jest at what, to 
liie, is the bane or bliss of life i I>are 
I hope that my hand aiMi h,e$xt, which 



I n*w ofir yma, iva adt 
ofyevrdenaiflnr 

lauy gaaed en hec adnsr wi4k a: 
look of serious inquiry; BrandpiLaiall 
appealed to sle^. 

" U fwi. are in fittneat^. my loBd." 
said Liiiegr» after aipanso^ "I am.tnily 
and de^y sony; for the foMod ef 
my wide I AaJl a^ya have ealBeiiir 
believe that I am tndgr mambls. of th* 
heoBour yon lenier bm^ whan I add 
m^ tegwt, that I caa ham 



A blank and pnaaled bewilteiBentr 
for a Tiumumwt^ dended tiia eq^eaaiva 
features cf ManlaveBex,:— i^ paased 
a;iRay. 

^Howsraatia ypur rebobe 1" Bwd' 
he. " Tes ! I do not yet desenra amgi 
othar amiiment than esteem: y«a 
ace not to be won preeipitateLy ; alaag 
trial, — a long conrae of attentiinmH» — i^ 
\(xo^ knowledge of my deyoted and 
aadent leye^ akaie will entitle me t9 
hope fbr & wacmer feeUng in your 
breast Fix than your own time of 
coivtahip, angelie Lnoy! a weelc,-— 
nay, a month ! — ^till then^ I will not 
eyen press you to appoint that dajF* 
which to me will be the whiteot of my 
life!" 

''My lord!" said langjft amiling: 
now no longer JuU/vnUIj, ''yon most 
pardon me for belieying your proposal, 
can be nothing but a jest ; bui here» 
I beseech you» let it rest for eyer: 
do not mention thia anhjecfc to n». 
again." 

"By heayensl" cried ManfeyeBar^ 
'<this is too cnid. — ^Brandcm,. iBt6E> 
cede for me with youx nieee." 

Sir William started, natDzall)y» 
enough^ from his shm&bov >'>d. JCaulr. 
eyerer continued,— 

" Yes, intercede for me ; yen, ng 
oldest friend, be my gxeateat bene- 
factor! I sue to your nieo^-nahft 
aflfects to disbeUey^ — wiQ jjom con- 
yince her of my tnUii,, my deyotisn^ 
my worship r 

"Biabeliefo youl* aaid tiie bland 



PAUL GUFTOKO. 



211 



jndge^ with the same secret sneer that 
usually lurked in the comers of his 
mouth. " I do not wonder that she 
is slow to credit the honour you hare 
done her, and for which the noblest 
damsels in England have sighed in 
vain. Lucy, will you be cruel to Lord 
fiTauleverer ^ Believe me, he has often 
confided to me his love for you ; and 
if the experience of some years avails, 
there is not a question of his honour 
and his truth : I leave his &te in your 
hands." 
' BiaBubsB turned to f^ddor; 

<'Stey, diear sir^'* nod Loey, "^^4, 
instead of inteesdmg for Lord Man!- 
eveper, interoMbarfDr me^" ISer look 
warn mfMl€Mk into a «alm and decided 
nriooBnesa of ca^vosaioa. ''I feel 
iaghlyflaftteredbsfrlmlerdd^p^s jvo^ 
peaal,- whsoh, as you say, I might w^ 
doabt io be giwraly meant I we^ 
him all ]iappateB8 witk a My of higher 
desertft; but I gjpeaSk from an onalter- 
tMe dBtamdiiatiEeBy when I say, that 
I csm never acospt the cl^ly with 
ipMch he would rnnsk mo." 

So sa^iBg^ Lucy walked qniekly to 
the door, aad vanished, leading the 
two Ifisniis tocMament as they would, 
«pon her conduct. 

'^Tou hiMte spoUt all with ymir 
pveeifatBtHm," sud tiie micie. 



" Precipitation ! d— n it, what would 
you have? I have been fifty years 
making up my mind to marry ; and 
now, when I have not a day to lose, 
you taUt of precipitation!" answered 
the lover, throwing himself into an 
easy chair. 

'^ But yon have nc^ been fifty years 
making up your mind to inaviy mjr 
niece,'" said Bitmdon, dryly. 

" To be refiised—ppsitjvely refused, 
by a country girl T" continued Maul- 
everer, soliloquising aloud ; ''and that 
too at mgr age, and wHfii all isy ezpe- 
rieBce^!— a eemtiy gizl without rsnk^ 
ten, accmwplduBentei! Sy heaT«B»l 
1 don't earo' if all the world heaird tl; 
— far not a soul in lihe worM wouM 
ever belkfve it.**' 

Brandsn sat ap09idte% ^^^i^ the 
morfified fiwe of the courtier with a 
malieieuB o0BQ)}a8eKcy, and th»e was 
a passe ef fMrverat miBatea. Sir 
W^Biam then moBteiing the Bftraoigfr 
fe^ngwhaehmade huntdways rejcwse- 
in whatever tivew ridicule en hui 
friend, appioaehed, told his hand 
kindly on HaBlewer*s li^ulder, and 
talked to him of eoasEfert and of en- 
eo^ogement. The reader will believe; 
that Maolevererwiw not a man whom, 
ft was impofiflibleioencouziige. 



112 



PAUL CLIFFOBD. 



CHAPTER XXX. 



■* Before be oaiiMf CTerjrthlBff lored me, and I bad nore tblnge to lOTe tban I could 
nckon \fj tbe haln of mj bead. Now, I feel I can lore but one, and tbat one baa 

* « * * * 

« * * * * 

WeU, be It lo-let bcr peridi, let ber be anytbing but mine." 



£ablt the next morning, Sir Wil- 
liam Brandon was doaeted for a long 
time with his niece, previoua to hia 
departure to the duties of his office. 
Anxious and alanned for the success 
of one of the darling projects of his 
ambition, he spared no art in his con- 
rersation with Lucy, that his great 
ingenuity of eloquence and wonderful 
insight into human nature could sug- 
gest, in order to gain at least a foun- 
dation for the raising of his scheme. 
Among other resources of his worldly 
tact, he hinted at Lucy's Iotc for 
Clifford; and (though darkly and 
subtly, as befitting tibe purity of the 
one he addressed) this abandoned 
and wily person <tid not scruple to 
hint also at the possibility of indulging 
that love after marriage; though he 
denounced, as the last of indecorums, 
the crime of encouraging it before. 
This hint, however, fell hannless upon 
the innocent ear of Lucy. She did 
not, in the remotest d^^ee, compre- 
hend its meaning; she only, with a 
glowing cheek and a pouting lip, 
resented the allusion to a love which 
she thought it insolent in any one 
eren to suspect. 

When Brandon left the apartment, 
his brow was clouded, and his eye 
absent and thoughtful : it was evident 
that there had been little in the con- 
ference with his niece to please or 
content him. Miss Brandon herself 
was greatly agitated : for there was 
in her uncle's nature that silent and 



Mamalk. 

impressive secret of influendng or 
commanding others, which almost so 
invariably, and yet so quietly, attains 
the wishes of its owner; and laicj, 
who loved and admired him sincerely 
— ^not the less, perhaps, for a certain 
modicum of feax^-was greatly grieved 
at perceiving how rooted in him was 
the desire of that marriage which she 
felt was a moral impossibility. But 
if Brandon possessed the secret of 
sway, Lucy was scarcely less singularly 
endowed with the secret of resistance. 
It may be remembered, in describing 
her character, that we spoke of her 
as one who seemed, to the superficial, 
as of too yielding and soft a temper. 
But circumstances gave the lie U> 
manner, and proved that she emi- 
nently possessed a quiet firmness and 
latent resolution, which gave to her 
mind a nobleness and trutiworthy 
power, that never would have been 
suspected by those who met her among 
the ordinary paths of life. 

Brandon had not been long gone, 
when Lucy's maid came to inform her 
that a gentleman, who expressed 
himself very desirous of seeing her, 
waited below. The blood rushed from 
Lucy's cheek at this announcement, 
simple as it seemed. " What gentle- 
man couid be desirous of seeing her? 
Was it— was it Clifford T She re- 
mained for some moments motionless, 
and literally unable to move; at 
length she summoned courage, and 
smiling with self-contempt at a notion 



.PAUL CLIPPORD. 



213 



whieli appeared to her after thoughts 
utterljt absurd, she descended to the 
drawing-room. The £rst glance she 
directed towards the stranger, who 
stood by the fireplace with folded 
arms, was sufficient, — it was impos- 
sible to mistake, though the face was 
averted, the unequalled form of her 
lover. She advanced eagerly with a 
&int cry, checked herself, and sank 
upon the so&. 

Clifford turned towards her, and 
fixed his eyes upon her countenance 
with an intense and melancholy gaze, 
but he did not utter a pliable ; and 
Lucy, after pausing in expectation of 
his voice, looked up, and caught, in 
alarm, the strange and peculiar aspect 
of his features. He approached her 
slowly, and still silent; but his gaze 
seemed to grow more earnest and 
mournful as he advanced. 

'' Yes," said he at last, in a broken 
and indistinct voices '^ I see you once 
more, after all my promises to quit 
you for ever, — after my solemn fire- 
well, after all that I have cost you ; — 
for, Lucy, you love me, — ^you love me, 
— and I shudder while I feel it ; after 
all I myself have borne and resisted, 
I once more come wilfully into your 
presence! How have I burnt and 
sickened for this moment ! How have 
I said, * Let me behold her once more 
-—only once more, and Fate may then 
do her worst ! ' Lucy ! dear, dear Lucy ! 
forgive me for my weakness. It is 
now in bitter and stem reality the 
very last I ct^ be guilty of I" 

As he spoke, Clifford sank beside 
her. He took both her hands in his, 
and holding them, though without 
pressure, again looked passionately 
upon her innocent yet eloquent &ce. 
It seemed as if he were moved beyond 
all the or^nary feelings of reunion 
and of love. He did not attempt to 
kiss the hands he held ; and though 
the touch thrilled through every vein 
and fibre of his frame, his clasp was 
as light as that in which the first 



timidity of a boy's love ventures to 
stamp itself J 

'* You are pale, Lucy," said he, 
mournfully, "and your cheek is much 
thinner thaji it was when I first sawyou 
— ^when I first saw you ! - Ah ! would for 
your sake that that had never been 1 
Your spirits were light then, Lucy. 
Your laugh camefrom the heart, — ^your 
stepspumed theearth. Joy broke from 
your eyes, every thing that breathed 
around you seemed full of happiness 
and mirth! and now, look upon me, 
Lucy; lift those soft eyes, and teach 
them to flash upon me indignation and 
contempt ! Oh, not thus, not thus ! 
I could leave you happy, — yes, lite- 
rally blest, — ^if I could fimcy you less 
forgiving, less gentle, less angelic !" 

"What have I to forgive?" said 
Lucy, tenderly. 

" What ! every thing for which one 
human being can pardon another. 
Have not deceit and Injuiy been my 
crimes against youl Your peace of 
mind, your serenity of heart, your 
buoyancy of temper, have I marred 
«Ac«c or not 1" 

"Oh, Clifford!" said Lucy, rising 
from herself and from all selfish 
thoughts, "why, — why will you not 
trust me? You do not know me, 
indeed you do not — you are ignorant 
even of the very nature of a woman, 
if you think me unworthy of your 
confidence ! Do you believe I could 
betray it ? or, do you think, that if 
you had done -that for which all the 
world forsook you, / could forsake 1" 

Lucy's voice faltered at the last 
words; but it sank as a stone sinks 
into deep waters, to the very core of 
Gifford's heart Transported from 
all resolution and all forbearance, he 
wound his arms around her in one 
long and impassioned caress ; and 
Lucy, as her breath mingled with his, 
and her cheek drooped upon his 
bosom, did indeed feel as if the past 
could contain no secret powerful 
enough even to weaken the affection 



214 



PAUL CUFFOKD. 



She WBs the fini to 

tem Hmr cnbneeu Sht di 

fcv fiMse fiPomidL ad 



rlAck 





iieM ikst t^ 

■eyonr hk- 

ivHkiAnnB^avir 

I the aoife bitted^ MB aot 

> Iw IS mOBw QflUBIUw 

Jlo iiag i w, ; aafll jum nntpndoii am, 
if I diMdbt tin actvfc of like Uaie 
'yon WMid » Ift^Mhl j haputa to yoKV- 
«bK iHBiwvjioiieimdusviffU — 
.^bsrethofliflemliicrad froBLwT^s 
Hp^/—1^ poor iitkKii dad. lea 
iijiBre ]i»«Be bgray ovdwfc; tbBeie 
is no one on earth to -aiiflBi I an 
MMmd hjf ^teiy* I Mn indBpcBdent, 
I am Eieh. Ten pnfem- to loie me. 
I sm firatidi ad imn, ad I iwKefe 
JOB. Pednpa, aSao^ I hsretheiSmd 
liope whieh so ofltan makeadnpca of 
^wiwa — ^tiie hope, ifaail^ H yon hwre 
erred, Imsy redaim7oa;if7oahOTe 
been nnfartiumte, I may oansoie 70a ! 
Ilmvr, Xr.CaifbDd, thai I am saying 
tfast te irhick many iroold define 
me, and for^ioi^ pediaps, I ot^bt 
to depose myarif; hat tibirae an times 
wtas we spcafcai^m if aome passer 
at enr hearts eo a s fa ain ed a% despite 
•Bfselyesr-eiid it is tikns. that I hae 
now tipokai to yoa." 

It wm wiik an air rtrj mnsoaAed 
to heraeff that Lacy had eQn<diided 
her sddrasB, far her vsnai charseter- 
istic Has mihersoftDeBS than dignity ; 
lofdk, as if to oonect the meaning of 
her word% which might otfaenrise 
appear mmiaadei%,.ihere wwa ehaste, 
A prond, yet not tibe iaas.a tenderaad 
sweet propriety a«id dignified fiBanfc- 
jUBSialiBKloQkaBdaBamier; aolittt 
it wsnld have been niiBE^ iiaposslhle 
inr one who heard her not to have 
•done JQstte to the na ManeaB of ker 
not to ham feU hotii 




aaivkaeshe 

frith a eean- 

l at amy ipoid ids 

jdl hope— ^mw aH 

Aa she eeaaedy die 

into a 




''It is well!" ssidhe,! 
"l am worthy of 
wortky! Gensoa^ noide giil !— had 
I hea an caopenr, I woold have 
bowed down to ya in wonhip ; hfvt 
to debaae, to dsgiadeymi— no ! m» P 

''Is then dehassmeni ia lover 
HHUwie d La<7;. 

diflfaBd gaaed apon her wiBi ssoit 
of eaihnriastic and arifgrataJatoiy 
pnde ; pariiaps ke iait ts he thns 
loYed, and hy aaeh a inastaa e y was 
msttar of pride, even in the lowest 
cinaaBrtaBeeB to vihioh. lie ooadd ever 
be es^oodd. He dzew his liiiiBlh 
hard, sei his tsethyand aaaaiifiil, 

" You eondd loTe, then, an ontcaBt, 
frithont birth, fortune, or character^ 
— 3fo ! yonbelieFe tfaianaw, hat yon 
eeaid not^ Ooidd yen deaeit year 
oonntiy, yonr fiiendf^ and ysnr home 
—all that you anbon. ad£ttedfo? 
— Coald yon attend one over whom 
the samd hangs, throngh a life ah- 
jected eveiy honr to disoovcxy and 
diigraee) — Cionld yon be ml^ected 
yonrself to the moodiness of an evil 
memory, and the g^oamy silence of 
remoise? — CobM yen be the victim 
of one who has no merit bnt his love 
for yon, and iriio,.if ihat love destiny 
yon, becomes ntteriy mdeaied 1 Yea;, 
Lney, I was wmqg— I will do yon 
jnstice : all tfais, nay mme, yon eoa&f 
bear, and yonr geaerons natum wotdd 
disdain the sa^ificef Bnt am / to 
be all selfish, snd ya all devotedl 
Are pott to yuld every tfadng- to me, 
imd / to aeoepi every thing and yieUL 
nonel— lAlas ! I have bnt one good, 
to yidd» ad :iihat is 



PAUTi CLIFFORD. 



'2116 



' yonn^lf. Imcy, I . deserve you j I 
outdo you in generoBity : ikH that you 
ircnM doBert fbr me is nothing — 

Godl-^mothxnsg to the eacrifioe I 
* wsSke to you !— And now, Lucy, I 

- hare seen you, and I must onee more 

- bid yon fiureweU : I am on the eve of 
quitting this eoimtry for ever. I 
fihi^ enli^ in a foreign aervice. Per- 
liapB — (and GHffiwd's dazk eyes flaslied 
Tfi&i fire) — ^you will yet hear of me, 
and iiot blush when you hear I But 
' — (and his voice Altered, for Lucy, 
biding herfAce with both hands, gave 
way to her tears and «gitation)---bat, 
in one respect, yon have conquered. 

1 had befieved tliat you could never 
be mine— that my past life had for 
ever depxived ne cf that hope ! I 



now begin, wlf^ a npfeore that cixi 
bear me through all ordeals, to fozm 
a more daring vision. A soil may be 
eflbeed — an evilname may beredeemed 
— ^the past is not set and sealed, with- 
out the power of revoking what has 
been written. If I can win the right 
of meriting your mercy, 1 will throw 
myself on it withjMit reserve ; tUl 
then, or till death, you will see me no 
more !" 

He dropped on his knee, left Ids 
kiss and 1^ tears upon Lucy's cold 
hand; the next moment she heard 
his fltep on the stairs,— 4he door 
closed heavily and jarringly upon him, 
— and Lucy felt one bitter pang, and, 
for some time at least, she felt mo 
morel 



CHAPTER XXXI. 



'* Many tItliigB fall between the onp and the Bp l 
Your mam does. gtawe ma 

« » « • « 

Oomes caumon Hagh acoontred as you see 
.DiBgttiaed! 

And thus am f to gull the constable? 
Xow hvre among yeu for amaiLatanns. 
« « « « ♦ 

Bigh-oonstaUe was more, though 
He laid Dick Tator by the heels." 

Bkk Jdmboitt Taletifa Tub. 



MiurwHiui, ClUfiSwd BtBodBTapidly 
Chvongh the streets wbieh Bunsonnded 
the judge's house, and, taening to an 
obscurer guaartier of the town, entered 
a gloomy lane cr alley. Here he was 
abruptly aceostad by a man wmpped 
in a shaggy gieat*coat, and of some- 
idiat a suspicions appearance .' — 

" Aha, captain 1" said he, ''you ase 
^yood your time, but all's well !" 

Attempting, with indifferent sue- 
iflSBs, the easy s^f^oiseBBiosi which 
general^ masked hoajMidresB to his 
oompaBions, OtifiSord, repeating the 
stranger's mtudB, seplied^-— 



" All 's well ! — ^what ! are the pui- 
soners released V* ' 

''Fo, faath!" answered the man, 
with a rou^ laugh, ^' not yet ; but 
all in good time; it is a little too 
ranch to expect the justices to do our 
work, thott^, by the Lord Harry, w!e 
often do theirs 1'' 

''Whatthenr asked Clifibrd, im< 
platientiy. 

''Why, the poorfeUows had been 

carried to the town of > and 

brought before the queer ouffin* ere 



216 



PAUL CLIFFOBD. 



I arrived, thongli I set off the moment 
yon told me, and did the journey in 
four hours. The examination lasted 
all yesterday, and they were remanded 
till to^y;— let's see, it is not yet 
noon ; we may be there before it 's 
over." 

''And this is what you call weU ! " 
said Clifford, angrily 1 ', 

*' No, captain, don't be glimflashey ! 
you have not heard all yet I — ^It seems 
that the only thing buffed hard against 
them was by a stout grazier, who was 
cried ' Stand I ' to, some fifty miles off 
the town ; so the queer cuffin thinks 
of sending the poor fellows to the gaol 
of the county where they did the 
business I " 

"Ah! that may leave some hopes 
for them ! — We must look sharp to 
their journey; if they once get to 
prison, their only chances are the 
file and the bribe. Unhappily, neither 
of them is so lucky as myself at that 
trader 

'* No, indeed, there is not a stone 
wall in England that the great Captun 
Lovett could not creep through, I'll 
swear ! " said the admiring satellite. 

"Saddle the horses and load the 
pistols! — I will join you in ten 
minutes. Have my fiirmer's dress 
ready, the fiilse hair, &c. Choose your 
own trim. Make haste ; — ^the Three 
Feathers is the house of meeting." 

"And in ten minutes only, cap- 
tain!" 

" Punctually ! " 

"The stranger turned a comer, 
and was out of sight Clifford, mut- 
tering — " Yes, I was the cause of their 
apprehension; it was I who was 
sought ; it is but fiilr that I should 
strike a blow for their escape, before I 
attempt my own,"— continued his 
course till he came to the door of a 
public^hbuse. The sign of a seaman 
swung aloft, portraying the jolly tar 
with a fine pewter pot in his hand, 
considerably huger than his own cir- 
cumference. Ak immense pug sat at 



the door, lolling its tongue oat^ as if # 
having stuffed itself to tiie tongue, it 
was forced to turn that useful member 
out of its proper place. The shutters 
were half closed, but the sounds of 
coarse merriment issued jovially forth. 

Clifford disconcerted tiie pug; and, 
crossing the threshold, cried, in a 
loud tone, "JanseenI"— "Here!" 
answered a gruff voice ; and Clifford, 
passing on, came to a small pariour 
adjoining the tap. There, seated by 
a round oak-table, he found mine 
host, a red, fierce, weather-beaten, but 
bloated-looking personage, like Dirk 
Hattendck in a dropsy. 

" How now, captain ! " cried he, in 
a guttural accent, and interlarding his 
discourse with certain Dutch graces, 
which, with our reader's leave, we will 
omit, as being unable to speU them : 
" how now ! — not gone yet ! " 

" No ! — ^I start for the coast to-mor- 
row; business keeps me to-day. I 
came to ask if Mellon may be fully 
depended on 1" 

"Ay— honest to the back-bone." 

" And you are sure that, in spite of 
my hite delays, he will have not have 
left the viUage 9" 

" Sure ! — ^what else can I be t— don't 
I know Jack Mellon these twenty 
years ! He would lie like a log in a 
calm for ten months together, without 
moving a hair's breadth, if he was 
under orders." 

" And his vessel is swift and well 
manned, in case of an officer's chase I" 

"The BUck Molly swift 1— Ask 
your grandmother. The BUck Molly 
would outstrip a shark." 

" Then good-by, Janseen ; there is 
something to keep your pipe alight : 
we shall not meet within the three 
seas again, I think. England is as 
much too hot for me as Holland for 
you ! " 

" You are a capital fellow ! " cried 
mine host, shaking Clifford by the 
hand; "and when the lads come to 
know thdr loss, they will know they 



f 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



217 



lutre lost the braTOst and trnest gill 
that ever took to the toby ; so, good 
by, and bo d — d to you ! " 

With this valedictory benediction, 

. mine host released Clifford ; and the 

robber hastened to his appointment 

at the Three Feathers. 

He found all prepared. He hastily 
put on his disguise, and his follower 
led out his horse, a noble animal of 
the grand Irish breed, of remarkable 
strength and bone, and, save only that 
it was somewhat sharp in the quarters 
(a &.ult which they who look for speed 
as well as grace will easily forgive), of 
almost unequalled beauty in its sym- 
metry and proportions. Well did the 
courser know, and proudly did it 
render obeisance to, its master; 
snorting impatiently, and rearing from 
the hand of the attendant robber, the 
sagacious animal freed itself of the 
rein, and, aa it tossed its long mane 
in the breeze of the fresh air, came 
trotting to the place where Clifford 
stood. 

"So ho, Bobin,!— 60 ho! — what, 
thou chafest that I have left thy fellow 
behind at the Red Cave. Him we 
may never see more. But, while 
I have- life, I will not leave thee, 
Robin I" 

With these words, the robber fondly 
stroked the shining neck of his £fh- 
vourite steed ; and as the animal 
returned the caress, by rubbing his 
head against the hands and the athletic 
breast of its master, Clifford felt at 
his heart somewhat of that old racy stir 
of the blood which had been once to 
him the chief charm of his criminal 
profession, and which, in the late 
change of Ids feelings, he had almost 
forgotten. 

" Well, Robin, well," he renewed, 
as he kissed the face of his steed ;— 
** well, we will have some days like 
our old ones yet ; thou shalt say, ha ! 
ha! to the trumpet, and bear thy 
master along on more glorious enter- 
prises than he has yet thanked thee 



for sharing. Thon wilt now be my 
only &miliar, — ^my only friend, Robin ; 
we two shall be strangers in a foreign 
land. But thon wilt make thyself 
welcome easier than thy lord, Robin ; 
and ihov. wilt forget the old days, and 
thine old comrades, and thine old loves, 
when— ha!'* and Clifford turned ab- 
ruptly to his attendant, who addressed 
him, " It is late, you say ; true ! look 
you, it will be unwise for us both to 
quit London together; you know the 
sixth milestone, join me there, and 
we can proceed in company !" 

Not unwilling to linger for a part- 
ing-cup, the comrade assented to the 
prudence of the plan proposed ; and, 
after one or two additional words of 
caution and advice, Clifford mounted 
and rode from the yard of the inn. 
As he passed through the tall wooden 
gates into the street, the imperfect 
gleam of the wintry sun Mingover him- 
self and his steed, it was scarcely pos- 
sible, even in spite of his disguise and 
rude garb, to conceive a more gallant 
and striking specimen of .the lawless 
and daring tribe to which he belonged ; 
the height, strength, beauty, and ex- 
quisite groonwng visible in the steed; 
the sparkling eye, the bold profile, 
the sinewy chest, the graceful limbs, 
and the careless and practised horse- 
manship of the rider. 

Looking after his chief with a long 
and an admiring gaze, the robber said 
to the ostler of the inn, an aged and 
withered man, who had seen' nine 
generations of highwaymen rise and 
vanish, — 

"There, Joe, when did you ever 
look on a hero like that ? The bravest 
heart, the frankest hand, the best 
judge of a horse, and the handsomest 
man that ever did honour to Houna- 
low!" 

" For all that^" returned the ostler, 
shaking his palsied head, and turn- 
ing back to the tap-room, — " For all 
that, master, his time be up. Mark 
my whids. Captain Lovett will not be 



218 



PAULCU170BD. 



•w tbe yeiVy- 



»1 nor 



«he 



''Wlij^Tmi old nnalywluiiaidfies 

JOQ BO WlMl Yott HJll BOi peMl^ I 

'IpeMh!dB?il»bife! But fliere 
iiie gtmama €f the zoad, 
grealf or bbiS, knowiag or ■tn^d, u 
o wtfi pe d In BflTOiifli ync And tluB 
win be tlie 49iptem'B flvraniii, cooM the 
SlBiefiiexJinMBlh; Init be be » fine 
duip, and 111 «• io Ui hngng ! " 

''Pbh !" Mid the robber, peeviafafy, 
— be himieif iH» vetgin g -toyaedB tbe 
end rf bk Botb TBar^— ** pkh f " 

'<]ffind,I«elli]t70D,nu8ter; and 
lemebew or otber I thinba, — and I 
bia eaL p eiienee in theee thingBy — hj 
1ibe>y*of Mb erfe^and tbednipof 
bla % Hat tbe oytain^B tJmeinUbe 

• Hera the robber loot ail pafieaRse, 

mdyeriui^ ibe boaiy boder of eral 

' agaJnat the mM, hm Im n ed -en his 

Ikael, and aevght bobm siera agreeable 

OBBDpuden to wbawr has atim^-oiip. 

Itwaa in the mmrnDg of the dfty 
,fldliiiping Ihnt in m^eh idre abeiie 
eom«nnticaHi ooeoMd, tbatifae saga- 
Oioiui AngastaB Toninaoa aand the 
.TalereiiB Sdwavd P^per, handcnfibd 
jmd fettered, were iifggmg fAait^ the 
tfmd in % poBtdbaaae, witih Mr. Hab- 
bem squeezed in by Ihe side of the 
fofnmc, and two «ther geaotlenen in 
Mr. Vabbem^i eonfidenoe mounted mi 
the boK of the dhalse, and interfer- 
ing sadly, BB LeiBg JSM giowlingiy 
nmnrked, irith <'1ihe beaoty (tf the 
prospect." 

'^Ah, weSlr* quoth mTabbem, ilna- 
^voidably thmataig his eU>ow into 
'TomlinBon'B eide, ivinie be drew out 
faiB snuffbooc, Mid heiped hxniBelf 
tegely to the intezixaitmg dost. 
« You bad best prepare y ourselT, Mr. 
, Pepper, for a e?bem^« ef pmepeots. I 



* A word dtiBoQlt to tnmdate ; bat the 
oloBnt interpiretation of whieh Is perhaps, 



beliaveaaB luBrlfaaies fittle to pifldse 
yon in ^iioif (pziaanV.'* 

" Nothing makcB men ao &eetaeiis 
as miafertone to CPthers!" anid Au- 
guafcoB, aosaUaing; and tuning him- 
ad^ aa wdl aa be waa able, in order 
to deliver bis bodyfrem the ptnnted 
eBww of Me. JTahbcBBu ''When a 
man s down in the worid, all the 
byBtandei% Tny dull fdlowB be&ae, 
anddenl^ beeome wits !" 

'' Yon zefeeta on I," said Mr. Nid)- 
beoi: ''well, it does not onni^ a 
pin, fiir dhseetly we does our duty, 
yon ehapB beeome hewdadenaly nn- 



'^ Ungnteful r and Pei^er : "what 
a ph^gue ha/ve we got to be gntefol 
fiort i BiqppoaB yon thia^ we ought 
to tell yon, yon are the beat ficiend we 
have, beeauae yon hsfo seromged as, 
neck and crop, into thafihoirible hole^ 
like iBBokeyB flitted fi>r (SiristmaB. 
'Sdeadk! mie'B hau: Is iatted down 
Iflce & paneaike ; and aa for one's le^ 
you bad better cut them off at enoe 
than tuck them^np in a pbce a foot 
square, — to say nothing of thaife 
Idackgoardiy irons V* 

** The only ironB pafdonaUe in yonr 
^es, Ned,"" said ToBolinaou, "are the 
curling-irons, ebl** 

"BTow if this ia not ieo mush !" 
^ed Kabbem, caoBBly; "you olgects 
to <ge in a cart like the zeBt of yomr 
pio&aaion ; and when I puta myself 
out of the way to dbAeedge yen w^ 
•a shay, you Blangs Ifor it 1" 

^'Paaoe, good Nabbemf" and An- 
guatos, with a Bage% dignity; "you 
must liUew a little bad humour in 
men so unhappily ntaated aa we 
are." 

Tbe soft answer tumetb away walli. 
TemiinBon'B auswar softened Kabb^m ; 
md, by way ^of concxEation, he held 
hla sntf-box to the nose of his unfor- 
tunate prisoner. Sbntting his ery«B, 
Tondinflon kng aoid eameatly sn^lfod 
up ihe kocuxy, and aa aoon as^ wtfli 
hda own kert^ef «f spotted yilhyii^ 



PAUL CMFFOBD. 



509 



.the ofiotf had iripai &am ike pr»- 
boMiB tUDfi ^soffing gmma, Tom- 
linsoxL ihm spt^ >^ 

" Tou see us now, Mr. Nftbbem, m 
A state iif hsAiO^iamL oppomHunx; 
but ov Bfoata w» not boalmii toe. 
,Ia our tiaie W9 hunt had AoiwBthinig 
^ ^ witli «ke JiduMnlsBtifln; vkl 
•vr fwfert flipsBBBonty is .tike oBmSagt 
of fiiUBA nnaiaterB J " 

^'OIid! yen ware iatiifi MetiboiEit 
fine bfifirae j«ii teek lo liie andf 
.«udSr«U>eK. 

''Skit sol'' mmmA AvLgoOm, 
ffmvelf. ''We weve tbe llisi£oiibita 
of polUki^ not of theJcboNk ; Tic, -we 
lufied vpen •onr flodL iplthgiit » legal 
imf&oritgr te do so, mdiiiBt whkh the 
«teir withheld !fii»Bi us, onr isits ^ve. 
But ten xai^ Mr. KabiMu,. sre yen 
«ddielefiltefeMeer 

"Why, 4h^ layB I Ik/ end Mr. 
.Ntbbem, with ft grin; ^imd fir aiy 
part, I thinks all whesarvai theiKjaig> 
•jthoold staad np for ham, m»A take 
.«Mre of their little ftaiTtm 1 " 

" Yofl. gpeak whai oUwe Anub f 
/juKweied ^Dandinaon, nniluig ate. 
^ And I iriOinvw, ainee yon like poli- 
:tiGB, peint««i to yon what I daee aay 
^n hafie BoiobBemd bflfans;'' 

''Whatbeihatr said ItTahbeBL 

'' A woBderM HkenssB between tHe 
£fe of the ^enblemeiL adoraing his 
Miyeety'a senate and the life «£ the 
igentleuan whom ymt- atb. oendnetuq^ 
tohisMigeity'svidL'' 

9HX XIBKJiOUS PAHAMgli OWJJfQVgrUB 



" Wo enter 0Dr4airaer,.Hr. Kahten, 
«■ your enabiyo nnniBteEa eufaer par- 
. liainent^ — by bribeiry and cenaqptjiin. 
There is this dMEerenoe, indeed, 
between the two oases ; w e are en- 
.tleed to enter by the bribeiy and 
.corruption of oAen9,—-^l^be{r enter q[)en- 
taneously by dint of their eon. At 
fizat, delnded byfananfeie Ttsions, -we 
Jzke the £^ry of e<ar eaner better 
than the pmfii^ Md ii «nr jwiithM 



gesKronty^ we py ofesa te aitadc the 
zioh solely frem oensidsBalaon for the 
poor) By and by,.aB we gsow more 
hardened, we Isi^^h .at these boyish 
iQr ponce tues 



oqpially at nor inpartdal hands; we 
gnsp at the biKket, but we soom not 
the tbanblo^fiiil ; we vae Idie word 
^<ny aniy as atmp iirpuNwlytes and 
appventiees ; our iiagen, like an 
«ffioe door, aae open for afl that can 
poBsiU^oeneiBfcoiiieni: we consider 
the wealthy aa ouraatlai^ the poor as 
enr perquaeiteB. What is thist, but a 
piatiire of janc SMSDher of pasliament 
]a{>eniBgMEto.aaniBBter, — yoinr patriot 
MMEJIlowing into year planmnam ? And 
maik ae, Mr. Sakibem I is not ike 
wery laaignage of betkaaisimilar as the 
deedsl WhsAiatiiet^Baae othsrof 
na bena to eDBfdoyS— ^Ho deJirer.' 
What 9—^' The PbMk.' And do we 
not botii iorariali^dflfifer it of the 
aamathngf— >viz.,it8iMra/ iDowe 
WBKt an exoane lor shiiaiBg' the .gold 
flf our noo^boBB^ or jdnanng them, 
if thoyfeaiBtf Is. not *oar nmtnal*— 
ear pkfaiest plea— 'Distnaaar Tree, 
year patriot caUa it ' diatreas of the 
ooDBtry ; ' bni does he> ever, a whit 
maeo than we do, mean any distress 
but has own f When we are brought 
low, and our oeats are shabby, do we 
not both shake onrbeads and taHc of 
'seftnnr Amdwfaen — oh! wdienwe 
ane np in the weiftd, do we not boiii 
hiok 'iflbrm'^ to &e devill How 
often yonr pariiameBt man 'Taeates 
his seat,' only for the pnrpoee of 
Teauming^ It wUii a weghMer puxee I 
How often, dear IJM, have onr seats 
been Tasated far the same end! 
SennetimeB, indeed, he reaUy finishes 
his eaneer byaooepting the hundreds, 
it is by 'aeeepting the hundreds' 
that oufs may be iarahed too !— (Ned 
drew a long sigh.)-— Sote usnow, Jfr. 
N&Ubem, in the. aenith of onr pcos- 
peraiy^-^e hawe fiUed onr pockets, we 
h»re baoeme gaeat; in the mouths of 
oarparty. «Onr fidaadoBa na, and 



220 



PAUL CLIFFOBD. 



oar bUnrens adote t Wbai do ire in 
thU short-liTed rammer I Bare and 
be thrifty 1 Ah, no! we must giTe 
oar dinners and make light of our 
lash. We aport honea on the raee- 
oonrae, and look big wi the multitnde 
we have babbled. la not thia yoor 
miniater come into oiBcet Doea not 
this remind yon of hu eqoipage, hi$ 
palace, hU plate 1 In both caaea, 
lightly won, layiahly waated ; and the 
pnbtic, whoae caah we have fingered, 
may at leaat hare the pleaaore of 
gaping at the figure we make with iti 
Thia, then, ia our hanreat of happinesa; 
oar foea, our frienda, are ready to eat 
oa with enyy— yet what ia ao little 
enyiable aa our atation 1 Hare we not 
both our common yexationa and oar 
mntual diaqaietadea 1 Do we not both 
bribe — (Nabbem shook his head and 
buttoned hia waiatcoat) — our enemiea, 
c%jole oar partiaana, bully our depend- 
anta, and quarrel with our only friends, 
viz., oaraelveal Is not the secret 
question with each — 'It ia all con- 
foundedly fine ; but how long will it 
lastr Now, Mr. Nabbem, note me, 
— reverse the portrait : we are &Uen, 
our career ia oyer— the road ia shut to 
us, and new plunderers are robbing 
the carriages that once we robbed. Is 
not this the lot of — ^no, no 1 I decdve 
myself I Tour ministers, your job- 
men, for the most part milk the popu- 
lar cow while there 's a drop in the 
udder. Your chancellor declines on 
a pension, — your minister attenuates 
on a grant, — ^the feet of your great 
rogues may be gone from the treasury 
benches, but they hare their little 
fingers in the treasuiy. Their past 
services are remembered by hia Ma- 
jesty,— ours only noted by the Be- 
corder : they save themselyes, for they 
hang by one another; we go to the 
devil, for we hang by ourselves : we 
have our little day of the public, and 
all is over ; but it is never over with 
them. We both hunt the same fox : 
but we are your fiiir riders : they are 



yonr knowing onea— we take the leap, 
and oar neda are broken: th^aneak 
thnmgb the gatea^ and keep it np to 
the hat!" 

Aa he condnded, Tomlinaon'a head 
drooped on hia boaom,and it waaeai^ 
to aee that painful compaziaona, 
mingled perliapa with aeeret marmara 
at the i]\)aatice of fortune^ were rank- 
ling in hia breaat. Long Ned aat in 
gloomy aUenoe ; and even the hard 
heart of the aevere Mr. Nabbem was 
aoftened l^ the affecting parallel to 
which he had liatened. Th^ had 
proceeded withoat apeaking for two 
or three mUea, when Long Ned, fizin|^ 
hia ^ea on Tomlinson, exclaimed, — 

« Do yon know, Tomlinaon, I think 
it waa a burning ahame in Lovett to 
suffer OS to be carried off like mat- 
tons, withoat attempting to reaeae oa 
by liie way ! It is all hia fiudt that we 
are here ! for it waa he whom Nabbem 
wanted, not ua!" 

'^Yery true," aaid the canning 
policeman; "and if I were yoa, Hr. 
Pepper, hang me if I would not behave 
like a man of spirit, and shew aa little 
consam for him aa he shews for yon! 
Why, Lord now, I doesn't want to 
'tice you ; but this I does know, the 
justicea are vexy anxious to catch 
Lovett ; and one who gives him up, 
and says a word or two about hfa 
cracter, so as to make conviction 
sartain, may himself be sartain of il 
free pardon for all little apreea and ao 
forth!" 

"Ah !" sud Long Ned, with a 
sigh, "that is all vexy well, Hr. 
Nabbem, but I'll go to the crap like 
a gentleman, and not peach of my 
comrades; and now I think of it, 
Lovett could scarcely have aasiated 
us. One man alone, even Lovett^ 
clever as he is, could not have forced 
us out of the clutches of you and yoor 
myrmidons, Mr. Nabbem ! And 
when we were once at , they 

took excellent care of us. But teh 
me now, my dear Nabbem," and Long 



PAUL CLIFFOBD* 



221 



Ked'8 voice wheedled itself into 
something like soilness; — ^''tell me 
do you think the grazier will buff it 
homer 

" No donbt of that,** sdd the un- 
moved Nabbem. Long Ned's face 
ML "And what if. he doesV said 
he; "they can but transport us!" 

" Don't desave yourself. Master 
Pepper ! " said Nabbem : "you 're 
too old a hand for the herring-pond. 
They're resolved to make gallows 
apjicB of all such numprela {Ifonr 
pariBiUs) as you ! " 

Ned cast a sullen look at the officer. 

"A pretty comforter you are!" 
«ud he. " I have been in a postchaise 
with a pleasanter fellow, I'll swear ! 
You may call me an apple if you will, 
but, I take it, I am not an apple 
you'd like to see peeled," 

With this pugUistic and menacing 
pun, the lengthy hero relapsed into 
meditative silence* 

Our travellers were now entering a 
toad skirted on one side by a common 
of some extent, and on the other, by 
a thick hedgerow, which through its 
breaks gave occasional glimpses of 
woodland and fiillow, interspersed 
with cross-roads and tiny brooUets. 

"There goes a joUy fellow!" said 
Nabbem, pointing to an athletic- 
looking man, riding before the car- 
riage, dressed in a fiirmer's garb, and 
mounted on a large and powerful 
horse of the Irish breed, " I day say 
he is well acquainted with ^our 
grazier, Mr. Tomlinson; he looks 
mortal like one of the same kidney ; 
and here comes another chap," — (as 
the stranger was joined by a short, 
stout, ruddy man in a carter's frock, 
riding on a horse less showy than his 
comrade's, but of the lengtiiy, reedy, 
lank, ye1> muscular race, which a 
knowing jockey would like to bet on). 
— " Now that's what I calls a comely 
lad !" continued Nabbem, pointing to 
the Utter horseman; "none of your 
thin-&ced, dark, strapping fellows 



like that Captain Lovett, as the 
blowens raves about, but a nice, tight, 
little body, with a &ce like a carrot ! 
That's a beauty for my money! 
honesty's stamped on his &ce, Mr. 
Tomlinson! I dare says— (and the 
officer grinned, for he had been a 
lad of tiie cross in his own day)— I 
dare says, poor innocent booby, he 
knows none of the ways of Lunnun 
town ; and if he has not as meny a 
life as some folks, mayhap he may 
have a longer. ^But a merry one for 
ever, for such lads as us, Mr. Pepper ! 
I say, has you heard as how Bill Fang 
went to Scratchland (Scotland) and 
was stretched for smashing queer 
screens ? {%. e. hung for uttering forged 
notes). He died 'nation game ; for 
when his &ther, who was a grey- 
headed parson, came to see him after 
the sentence, he says to the governor, 
says he, ' Give us a tip, old 'un, to pay 
the expenses, and die dacently.' The 
parson forks him out ten shiners, 
preaching all the while like winkey. 
Bob drops one of the guineas between 
his fingers, and says, ' Holla, dad, you 
have only tipped us nine of the yellow 
boys; just now you said as how it 
was ten !' On this the parish-bull, 
who was as poor as if he'd been a 
mouse of the church instead of the 
curate, lugs out another; and Bob, 
turning round to the gaoler, cries, 
' Flung the governor out of a guinea, 
byG— dl'* Now, that's what I calls 
keeping it up to the last I" 

Mr. Nabbem had scarcely finished 
this anecdote, when the &rmer-like 
stranger, who had kept up by the side 
of the chaise, sudd^y rode to the 
window, and, touching his hat, said 
in a Norfolk accent, " Were the gen- 
tlemen we met on the road belonging 
to your party? They were asking 
after a chaise and pair." 

" No !" said Nabbem, "there be no 
gentlemen as belongs to our party ! " 

♦ Fact. 



JAMhOUnOBR 



at the fioBMT, an 
shoulder at the fasonen. 

"Whatl jK>u are cone attaloMr 
said the Urimr. 

"Ay, to hetfoee/'aiiaweredHaUMB; 
"not mniih daage^ I thiak, im the 
day-time, with the mm out ae big mm 
sixpence, wh&eh ia as Ug aa «rer I 
see'd him ia thia comtiy ! " 

At that moment^ the ahoEteK 
stranger, whaae apfieacanee had at- 
tiaeted the praise of Uir. Hahhem 
(that peiBonage waa hiraaeif veijaheet 
aind, rnddy),. and who had l^herto 
been riding idose to Kha poat«hone%. 
and talking^te the efficeia. on ^m bex, 
snddenly threw himaclf frona hia 
steed, and in the aame Biateattlittt fa» 
axxested the horses of the chaiae, 
stmck the poatilient to the ^momd 
with a short henry Undgaen whiek 
he drew from hia fzoek. A whiatie 
waa heajid and "aaBwevad, aa if by a 
signal: three fBUowa^ armed with 
bludgeons, leafied from the hedge.; 
and in the interim the pretended 
farmer, diamoanting; flung open the 
door of the chaise, and aeiziag JCr. 
l^abbem by the coUar„ anfaog him to' 
the ground witih a eelemty thai he* 
came the drcalar rotnndi;^ ol the 
policeman's - figure, lathes than the 
deliberate grwrky ot hia dagaified 
office. 

£apid and instantaneeua aa had 
been thia work, it waa not withoat a 
check. Although the poliesmfMLhad 
not dreamed of a xeacue ia the my 
ftuse of the day, and en the high xoad,.. 
their profSession was not that wMdii 
suffered them eaaily to be surpeiaed. 
The two goacdiaaa of the dieky leaped 
nimbly to the grennd; but before 
they had time to nae their fixe^aima, 
two of the new aggressors, who had 
appeared from the ^dge, eloaed upon 
than, and bore them to the grotfnd : 
while this scufOe took plaee, the 
farmer had disarmed the prostrate 
Kabbem, and giving him in charge 



tatiie 

cated 

from the johain. 

"HiBtr said he, in a whiaper, 
a^'nane; my diagDiae 
«t janncnf. \t\tm mt ram 
oHly threof^ the ha^ acartwait* 
there, and jmn are wdB 1" 

Wiih theaa hiAeawards faaaaabtod 
the Mbben, aa wefl aa he ttnAi, ia 
spilaof tiMir manade^tiiraa^ the- 
same part ef the had^e fesm wluch 
the three allaaahad sprang: Thej 
were already throng the baasitf ; 
OBliy the lo^ lege at :^ed Bepper 
liogeredbehind; iriua at-the&v end 
of the nad^ whidb waa poftotly. 
stongfat, a. gentfanania eairiage her> 
cane Tieihle^ A stuaac hand team 
the iatecior of the hedge seizing 
Pepper, dragged hink throng and 
CaifiiBn^~€ol: the wamhm need nait. be 
told wkm waa the finaer — perceiT' 
ing the approaching maSmemtm^ 
shouted aab once frr fl^^ The 
robber who had gnaniod Nahbem, 
aad who indeed waa na ether tiian 
OM Btiff^ aloMraa he. UUfaally wu, 
leat not an inatant in. pneivdding lor. 
httaaelf ; before yaa. eoilUisaQr ''Lan- 
damoi^"^ he waa on the ether aide of* 
the hedge: the two man engaged 
wkh the polaee-efficarB w^ie nioi 
capable of tm ec|nal celerity; bat. 
Clifibnd^, thnmac hivsalC inio the 
contaBt and engaging the poBofsmen,. 
gMPe the robbrai iiitt ep pectmu^ fk 
eaaape. They" aonMdded thmagh the^ 
£uee, the offiaem, tengli lettowa and 
kee% (digging: laatil^A^ Ahem, tiU ene: 
was;ialM. hyiJUfiard, and the otter 
catafaing againat a stmspj, waa fiaroad; 
to leMnqiUah hia IML; her 
sprang faa^ into the caad and 
paead for Cai&rct who i 
oeci^ed . hiaaaelf a*har in fiigitiaai 
than wBiSlEn meaaaaea Mftamriula,* 
the manaeart. the «itbBc lasenen. hadr. 
passed tha Bahiflen: of the: hedgiv' 
their flight, and that ef iAagentlettien * 
who had jaaaod befine thjsm^. cQni^> 



PAUL eXilFFORD. 



menoed. On this mystic side of the 
hedge was a cross-road^ striking at 
once through an intricate and wooded 
part of the country, which allowed 
speedy and ample opportunities of 
dispersion. Here a light cart, dzawn 
by two swift horses, in a tandem 
£ishion, awaited the fugitiyes. Long 
Ned and Augustus were stowed down 
at the bottom of this vehicle ; three 
fellows filed away at their irons, and 
a fourth, who had hitherto remained 
inglorious with the cart, gave the 
lash — and he gare it handsomely — ^to 
the coursers. Away rattled the equi- 
page ; and thus was aehieyed a flight, 
still memorable in the annals of the 
elect, and long quoted as one of the 
boldest and most daring exploits 
that illicit enterprise ever accom- 
plished. 

Clifford and his equestrian comrade 
only remained in the field, or rather 
the road ; the former sprang at once 
on his horse, — ^the latter was notlong 
in following the example. But the 
policeman, who, it has been said, 
>"»<Wft«i in detaining^ the fiigitiires of 
the hedge, Jbad leaped baek into the 
Tondf. was not idle in the meaa'^ile. 
When he saw diffbid about to mount, 
iostead of attempting to seize the 
enemy, he recurred to his piatol, 
which in the bite struggle hand to 
hand he had been unable to use, and 
taking sore aim at GUfibrd, whom he 
yadged at oaee to be the louler of the 
reaeue,. he iJodged a ball in the right 
aide of the robber, at the very moment 
he had set qnirs in his horse and 
turned to fly. CliffiHrd'i head dioqwd 



to the saddle-bow. Fiercely the horse 
sprang on ; the robber endeavoured, 
despite his reeling senses, to retain 
his seat-— once he raised his head — 
once he nerved Ms slackened and 
Bstlesa limbs-~and then, with a faint 
groan, he fell to the earth. The horse 
bounded but one step more, and, true 
to the tutorship it had received, 
stopped abruptly. Clifford raised him- 
self with- great difficulty on one arm ; 
with the other hand he drew fortha pis- 
tol; he pointed it deliberately towards 
the officer that wounded him ; the man 
stood motionless^ cowering and spell- 
bound, beneath the dilating eye of 
the robber. It was but for a moment 
that the man had cause for dread ; for 
muttering between his ground teeth, 
"Why waste it on o*i enemy/'" Clif- 
ford turned the muzzle towards the 
head of the unconscious steed, which 
seemed sorrowfully and wistfully to 
incline towards him. "Thou," he 
said, "whom I have fed and loved 
shalt never know hardship from 
another ! " and with a merciful cruelty 
he dragged hinnlf one pace nearer 
to hds beloved steed, utteved a well- 
kaown word^ which brought tiie 
doeile creature to his aid^ aadplaeiag 
the muede of the pistol close to his 
eaor he fired, and fell baek Mnsdess at 
the exertioa. The aniaud staggered^ 
and dropped down dead. 

Meanwhile CHiflbud'a connade, pnk 
fitimg by ikt aerpiaae and suddes 
paaie of the offieer^ was.alreidy o«t 
o£ reach, and darting aorosa the co»- 
maa, he and his ragged 
speedy 1 



224 



PAUL CLIFFOKD. 



GHAPTEB XXXn. 

•< LoM I not 
With him what fortime oould in life aUot ? 
Low I not hope^ life's cordial ? 

« « « « « 

In faot, the k eeo n s he from prudence took 
Were written in liJs mind m in a boolc 
There what to do he reed, and what to ahon. 
And all commanded waa with promptnew dune : 
He seemed without a passion to proceed, 

« « « « « 

Yet some helleved thoee pasrions only slept ! " 

Cbabbb. 

« « « « « 

*• Bailee of love and life's enchanted epring ! *' 

A. Watts, on ^ming a Ptuket o/Lettert. 

« • « « « 

• •••«« 

*• Many and ead and deep 
Were the thoughts folded in thy silent hreast I 
Tkou, too, oottldst watch and weep ! " 

Mrs. HntAirb 



While Sir William Brandon waa 
pnrsning his ambitiona schemes, and, 
notwithstanding Lucy's firm and 
steady refiisal of Lord Manleverer, 
waa still determined on that ill- 
assorted marriage ; while Maulererer 
himself^ day after day, attended at the 
judge's house, tfnd, though he spoke 
not of love, looked it with all his 
might; it became obvious to eveiy 
one but the lover and the guardian, 
that Lucy herself was rapidly declin- 
ing in appearance and health. Ever 
since the day she had last seen Clifford, 
her spirit^ before greatly shattered, 
had refused to regain even a likeness 
to their naturally cheerful and happy 
tone. She became silent and ab- 
stracted; even hergentlenessof temper 
altered at times into a moody and 
fretM humour. Neither to books 
nor music, nor any art by which time 
is beguiled, she recurred for a mo- 
mentary aUeviatioa (^ ^l^e bitter feel- 



ings at her heart, or for a tranment 
forgetfulness of their sting. The whole 
world of her mind had been shaken. 
Her pride was wounded; her loye 
galled; her Mth in Clifford gave way 
at length to gloomy and dark sus- 
picion. Nothing, she now felt, but 
a name as well as fortunes utterly 
abandoned, could have justified him 
for the stubbornness of heart in which, 
he had fled and deserted her. Her 
own self-acquittal no longer consoled 
her in affliction. She condemned 
herself for her weakness, firom the 
birth of her ill-starred affection to the 
crisis it had now acquired. ''Why 
did I not wrestle with it at first 1 " she 
said bitterly. " Why did I allow 
myself so easily to love one unknown 
to me, and equivocal in station, despite 
the cautions of my uncle and the 
wMspers of the world 9 " Alas ! Ln<^ 
did not remember, that at the time 
[ she was guilty of this weakness, she 



l^ATO CLIFFORD. 



225 



litd not learned to reason as ahe aince 
reasoned. Her ftcnlties were but 
imperfectly awakened; her experience 
of the world was utter ignorance. She 
scarcely knew that she loyed, and she 
knew not at all that the delicious and 
excited sentiment which filled her 
beings could erer become as produc- 
tive of eyil and peril as it had done 
now; and even Juxd her reason been 
more dereloped^ and her resolutions 
more strong, does the exertion of 
reason and resolution always ayail 
against the master passion? Love, 
it is true, is not unconquerable; but 
how few have ever, mind and soul, 
coveted the conquest! Plsappoint- 
ment makes a vow^ but the heart 
records it not. Or in the noble 
image of one who has so tenderly and 
80 truly portrayed the feelings of her 
own sex,— 

*« We make 
A ladder of our thoughts where angels step. 
But sleep onrselyes at the foot I "* 

Before Clifford had last seen her, 
ire have observed that Lucy had (and 
it was a consolation) clung to the 
belief that, despite of appearances 
and his own confession, his past life 
had not been such as to place him 
without the pale of her just affections; 
and there were frequent moments 
when, remembering that the death 
of her father had removed the only 
being who could assert an unanswer- 
able claim to the dictation of her 
actions, she thought tiiat Clifford, 
hearing her hand was utterly at her 
own disposal, might again appear, 
and again urge a suit which she felt 
80 few circumstances could induce her 
to deny. All this half-acknowledged 
yet earnest train of reasoning and 
hope vanished from the moment he 
had quitted her uncle's house. His 
words bore no misinterpretation. He 
had not yielded even to her own con- 
descension, and her cheek burnt as 

• «< The Hlstoiy of the LTrt,** by L. B. L. 
Ko.a5. 



she recalled it. Yet he loved her. 
She saw, she knew it in his every 
word and look! Bitter, then, and 
dark must be that remorse which 
could have conquered every argument 
but that which urged him to leave 
her, when he might have claimed her 
for ever. True,tlubt when his letter for« 
merly bade her farewell, the same self- 
accusing language was recurred to^ 
the same dark Mnts and allusions to 
in&my or guilt; yet never till now 
had she interpreted them rigidly, 
and never till now had she dreamed 
how &r their meaning could extend. 
Still, what crimes could he have com- 
mitted 1 The true ones never occurred 
to Lucy. She shuddered to ask herself, 
and hushed her doubts in a gloomy 
and torpid silence ! But through aU 
her accusations against herself, and 
through all her awakened suspicions 
against Clifford, she could not but 
acknowledge that something noble 
and not unworthy of her mingled in 
his conduct, and occasioned his re- 
sistance to her and to himself; and 
this belief, perhaps, irritated even 
while it touched her, and kept her 
feelings in a perpetual struggle and 
conflict, which her delicate frame and 
soft mind were little able to endure. 
When the nerves once break, how 
breaks the character with them ! How 
many ascetics, withered and soured, 
do we meet in the world, who but for 
one shock to the heart and form 
might have erred on the side of 
meekness! Whether it come from 
woe or disease, the stroke which mars 
a single fibre plays strange havoc 
with Uie mind. Slaves we are to our 
muscles, and puppets to the spring of 
the capricious blood ; and the great 
soul, with all its capacities, its solemn 
attributes, and sounding claims, is, 
while on earth, but a jest to this 
mountebank— the body — from the 
dream which toys with it for an hour, 
to the lunacy which shivers it into a 
driveller, laughing as it plays with 
Q 16 



2tt 



PAUL cunoiQ). 



its ovn fragmento, and xeding be- 
nighted and blinded to the gnret 

We hare before wM, that IAM7 
was fond both of her nnele and tiis 
iode^; and still, whenever the snb- 
Jeet of Lord Maalererer and his suit 
was left nntoQched, there was that 
in the conTenation of Bir William 
Brandon which aroused an interest 
in her mind, en g r o ss ed and self- 
eonsnming as it had beeome. Sor- 
row, inde^, and sorrow's eonqiattion, 
reflection, made her more and more 
capable of comprehending a rery 
sabtle and intricate chancier. There 
is no secret for discorering the 
hnman heart like affliction ^-espe- 
dallj the affliction idiich springs 
from passion. Does a writer startle 
yon with his insight into yonr nsr 
tore, be snre that he hasmoomed: 
sach lore is the alchymy of team 
Hence the insensible and almost nni- 
Tcrsal confosion of* idea which con- 
founds melancholy with depth, and 
finds bat hollow inanity in the symbol 
of a langh. Pitiable error 1 Befleo- 
tion first leads vs to gloom, but its 
next stage is to brightness. The 
Laughing Philosopher had reached 
the goal of Wisdom : Heraclitns 
whimpered at the starting-post But 
enough for Lucy to gain even the 
vestibule of philosophy. ; 

Notwithstanding the soreness we 
naturally experience towards all who 
pertinaciously arouse an unpleasant 
subject, and in spite therefore of 
Brandon's furtherance of Mauleyerer's 
courtship, Lucy folt herself incline 
strangely, and with sometiiing of a 
daughter's affection, towards this 
enigmatical being; in spite, too, of 
all the cold and measured rice of his 
character,—- the hard and wintry gr^- 
neSB of heart with which he reguded 
the wel&re of others, or the Bubstences 
of Truth, Honour, and Virtue,— the 
calloaBness of his fossiliBed afibctionSi 
which no human being softened but 
for a moment, and no warm and 



healthlbl inpdae strode, save isto 



of this oonsasBmate dbdnm^ and 
worldlioeasofteDipenHBcat^ it is not 
paiadoxical to*ssy that then was 
something in the man whidi Lney 
firandat times analogous toiwr own 
▼iTid and gOMfmis sel£ This was, 
howerer, only notieeable when she led 
him to talk over eartier days, and 
when by degrees the saieastic lawyer 
forgot the present, and grew eloqnent, 
not over the actions but the fedings 
of the past. He woidd speak to her 
for hours of his youthful dreams, bis 
oeeupattons, or his projeds, as a boy. 
Abore aO, he lored to eonverse with 
her upon Warioek, its remains of 
andent magnificence, the green banks 
of the i^add liver that enridied its 
domains, and the summer pomp of 
wood and heath-land, amidrt whieh 
his noon-day visions had been nursed. 
When he spoke of these scenes and 
days, his countenance softened, and 
something in its expraaon^ recalling 
to Lucy the image of one still deaxer, 
made her yearn to him the more. An 
ice seemed broken from his mind, and 
streams of released and gentle feelings, 
mini^ with kindly and generona 
sentiment, flowed forth. Sudden^, 
a thought^ a word, brought him badi: 
to the present— his features withered 
abruptly into thdr cold pladdityor 
latent sneer: the sed dosed suddenly 
on the broken spdl, and, like the 
victim of a iairy-tde, oondenuied, at 
astated hour, to assume another shape, 
the Tcry be^ you had listened to 
seemed vanished, and repkusedby one 
whom you startled to behold. Bnt 
there was one epoch of hk life on 
whidi he was dways silent, and that 
was, his first onset into the actual 
world— the period of his early strug- 
gle into wedth and fiune. All tiuU 
qmee of time seemed as a dark gnlf, 
over which he had passed, and beoome 
changed at once--a8 a traveller land- 
ing on a strange climate may adopt. 



PAUL CMFFOJa). 



227 



the moment he touches its shore, 
its costume and its language. 

All men^-'the most modest— have 
a common £Edling, but it is one which 
often assumes the domino and mask — 
pride/ Brandon was, however, proud 
to a degree rery rare in men who have 
risen and flourished in the world. 
Out of the wrecks of all other feelings, 
this imperial surviTor made one great 
pidace ioT its residence, and called the 
lEkbric "Disdain." Scorn was the real 
essence of Brandon's nature : even in 
the blandest disguises, the smoothness 
of his voice, the insinuation of his 
smile, the popular and supple graces 
of his manners, an oily derision floated, 
rarely discernible, it is true, but pro- 
portioning its strength and quantum 
to the calm it produced. 

In the interim, while his character 
thus displayed and contradicted itself 
in private life, his &me was rapidly 
rising in public estimation. Unlike 
many of his brethren, the brilliant 
lawyer had exceeded expectation, and 
shown even yet more conspicuously 
in the less adventitiously aided duties 
of the judge. Envy itself, — ^and Bran- 
don's political vinUence had, despite 
his personal affiibility, made him many 
foes, — was driven into acknowledg- 
ing the profundity of his legal know- 
ledge, and in admiring the manner 
in which the peculiar functions of 
his novel dignity were discharged. 
No juvenile lawyer browbeat, no hack- 
neyed casuist puzzled, him ; even his 
attention never wandered from the 
dullest case subjected to his tribunaL 
A painter, desirous of stamping on his 
canvass the portrait of an upright 
judge, could scarcely have found a 
finer realisation for his beau idial than 
the austere, collected, keen, yet ma^ 
jestic countenance of Sir William 
Brandon, such as it seemed in the 
trappings of office and from the seat 
of justice. 

The newspapers were not slow in 
recording the singular capture of the 



notorious Lovett. The boldness with 
which he had planned and executed 
the rescue of his comrades, joined to 
the suspense in which his wound for 
some time kept the public, as to his 
escape from one death by the pos- 
tern gate of another, caused a very 
considerable ferment and excitation 
in the popular mind: and, to feed the 
impulse, the journalists were little 
slothful in retailing every anecdote, 
true or false, which they could collect, 
touching the past adventures of tiie 
daring highwayman. Many a good 
story then came to light, which par* 
took as much of the comic as the 
tragic; for not a single one of the 
robber's adventures was noted for 
cruelty or bloodshed ; many of them 
betokened rather an hilarious and 
jovial spirit of mirthful enterprise. 
It seemed as if he had thought the 
highway a capital arena for jokes, and 
only robbed for the sake of venting 
a redundant affection for jesting. 
Persons felt it rather a sin to be 
severe with a man of so meny a dis- 
position ; and it was especially observ- 
able that not one of the ladies who 
had been despoiled by the robber 
could be prevailed on to prosecute : 
on the contrary, they always talked 
of the event as one of the most agree- 
able remembrances in their lives, and 
seined to bear a provoking gratitude 
to the comely ofifender, rather than 
resentment. All the gentlemen were 
not, however, of so placable a temper; 
and two sturdy fitrmers, with a grazier 
to boot, were leady to swear, "through 
thick and thin," to the identity of the 
prisoner with a horseman who had 
civilly borne tech of tiiem company 
for an hour in their several homeward 
rides firom certain fidrs, and had 
carried the pleasure of his society, 
they very gravely asserted, consider- 
ably beyond a joke ; so that the state 
of the prisoner's affiurs took a very 
sombre aspect, and the counsel—- an 
old hand—intmsted with hia cause 
«2 



tt8 



PAUL CLirFOBI). 



dectax«d confidentially that there waa 
not a chance. But a yet more weighty 
accusation, because it came from a 
much nobler quarter, awaited Clif- 
ford. In the robbers^ cavern were 
found several arUdes answering ex- 
actly to the description of those 
valuables feloniously abstracted from 
the person of Lord Mauleverer. That 
nobleman attended to inspect the 
•articles, and to view the prisoner. 
'/The former he found himself able to 
swear to, with a very tranquillised 
conscience; the latter he beheld 
feverish, attenuated, and in a moment 
of delirium, on the sick-bed to which 
his wound had brought him. He was 
at no loss, however, to recognise in 
the imprisoned felon the gay and 
conquering Clifford, whom he had 
once even honoured with his envy. 
Although his former dim and vague 
suspicions of Clifford were thus con- 
firmed, the good-natured peer felt 
some slight compunction at appearing 
as his prosecutor : this compunction, 
however, vanished the moment he 
left the sick man's apartment ; and, 
after a little patriotic conversation 
with the magistrates about the neces- 
sity of public duty — a theme which 
brought virtuous tears into the eyes 
of those respectable functionaries — 
he re-entered his carriage, returned 
to town, and, after a lively dinner 
: tite-d-tSte with an old chire amie, who, 
of all her charms, had preserved only 
the attraction of conversation and the 
capacity of relishing a acUmi, Maul- 
everer, the very evening of his return, 
betook himself to the house of Sir 
William Brandon* 

When he entered the hall. Barlow, 
the judge's fiivourite servant, met him, 
with n^er a confused and myste- 
rious air, and arresting him as he was 
sauntering into Brandon's library, 
informed him that Sir William was 
particularly engaged, but would join 
his lordship in the drawing-room. 
While Barlow was yet speaking, and 



Mauleverer was bending his right 
ear (with which he heard the best) 
towards him, the libraiy-door opened, 
and a man in a very coarse and 
ruflSanly gart> awkirardly bowed 
himself out. '' So this is the par- 
ticular engagement, " thought Maul« 
everer ; " a strange Sir Fandarus : 
but those old fellows have droll 
tastes.* 

*' I may go in now, my good fellow, 
I suppose V* said his lordship to Bar- 
low ; and, without waiting an answer, 
he entered the library. He found 
Brandon alone, and bending earnestly 
over some lettera which strewed his 
table. Mauleverer carelessly ap' 
proached, and threw himself into an 
opposite chair. Sir William lifted 
his head, as he heard the movement, 
and Mauleverer (reckless as was that 
personage) was chilled and almost 
awed by the expression of his friend's 
countenance. Brandon's face was one 
which, however pliant, nearly always 
wore one pervading character — calm- 
ness : whether in the smoothness of 
social courtesy, or the austerity of his 
official station, or the bitter sarcasm 
which escaped him at no unfrequent 
intervals; still a certain hard and 
inflexible dryness stamped both his 
features and his air. But at this time 
a variety of feelings not ordinarily 
eloquent in the outward man strug- 
gled in his dark face, expressive of 
all the energy and passion of his 
powerful and masculine nature ; there 
seemed to speak from his features 
and eyes something of shame, and 
anger, and triumph, and regret, and 
scorn. All these various emotions, 
which, it appears almost a paradox 
to assert, met in the same expression, 
nevertheless were so individually and 
almost fearfully stamped, as to convey 
at once their siguification to the mind 
of Mauleverer. He glanced towards 
the letten, in which the writing 
seemed faint and discoloured by time 
or damp; and then once more regarding 



PAUL CLIFFORD, 



229 



the &ee of Brandon, Bald in rather an 
anxious and subduod tone,—- 

''Heayens, Brandon 1 are you illl 
or has any thing happened I— yon 
alarm met" 

" Do you recognise these locks 1" 
said Brandon in a hollow voice ; and 
from under the letters he drew some 
ringlets of an auburn hue, and pushed 
them with an averted face towards 
Maulererer. 

The earl took them up— regarded 
them for a few moments — changed 
colour, but shook his head with a 
negative gesture, as he laid them once 
more on the table, 

"This handwriting, then)" renewed 
the judge in a yet more impressive 
and painful voice ; and he pointed to 
the letters. 

Mauleverer raised one of them, and 
held it between his £Btce and the lamp, 
so that whatever his features might 
have betrayed was hidden from his 
companion. At length he dropped 
the letter with an effected nondic^ 
lanee, and said,*— 

" Ah, I know the writing even at 
this distance of time; this letter is 
directed to you !" 

** It is,— so are all these/' said Bran- 
don, with the same voice of preterna- 
tural and strained composure. '' They 
have come back to me after an ab- 
sence of nearly twenty-five years; 
they are the letters she wrote to me 
in the days of our courtship— (here 
Brandon laughed scornfully) — she 
carried them away with her, you know 
when; and (a pretty clod of consis- 
tency is woman ! ) she kept them, it 
seems, to her dying day I" 

The subject in discussion, whatever 
it might be, appeared a sore one to 
Mauleverer; he turned uneasily on 
his chair, and sud at length, — 

" Well, poor creature I these are 
painful remembrances, since it turned 
out so unhappily ; but it was not our 
fault, dear Brandon ; we were men of 
the world, — we knew the value of— 



of-— women, and treated them accord- 
ingly!" 

*' Right ! rightl right!" cried Bran- 
don, vehemently, hiughing in a wild 
and loud disdain ; the intense force of 
which it would be in vain to attempt 
expressing. 

''Right ! and fidth, my lord, I re- 
pine not, nor repent." 

"So, so, that's well!" said Maul- 
everer, still not at his ease, and 
hastening to change the conversation. 
"But» my dear Brandon, I have 
strange news for you ! Tou remem* 
ber that fellow Clifford, who had the 
insolence to address himself to your 
adorable niece) I told you I sus- 
pected that long friend of his of 
having made my acquaintance some- 
what unpleasantly, and I therefore 
doubted of Clifford himselt Well, 
my dear friend, this Clifford is — 
whom do you think 1— no other than 
Mr. Lovett^ of Newgate celebrity 1 " 

"Tou do not say so!" rejoined 
Brandon, apathetically, as he slowly 
gathered his papers together, and 
deposited them in a drawer. 

" Indeed it is true ; and what is 
more, Brandon, this fellow is one of 
the veiy identical highwaymen who 
robbed me on my road from Bath* 
No doubt he did me the same kind 
office on my road to Mauleverer Park." 

" Possibly," said Brandon, who ap- 
peared absorbed in a reveiy. 

" Ay 1 " answered Mauleverer, piqued 
at this indifference. "But do you 
not see the consequences to your 
niece 1" 

"My niece!" repeated Brandon, 
rousing himselt 

" Certainly. I grieve to say it, my 
dear friend, — but she was young, very 
young, when at Bath. She suffered 
this fellow to address her too openly. 
Nay, — for I will be frank,— she was 
suspected of being in love with him ! " 

"She iMw in love with him," said 
Brandon diyly, and fixing the malig> 
nant coldness of his eye upon the 



280 



PAUL OLIPPOBD. 



suitor. "And, for aught I know/' 
added he, " she is so at this moment.'' 

" Ton are cruel 1 " said Manleyerer, 
diBOonoerted. *' I trust not, for the 
sake of my continued addresses." 

"My dear lord," said Brandon, 
urbanely taking the courtier's hand, 
while the anguU in herbd of his sneer 
played around his compressed lips, — 
"my dear lord, we are old friends, 
and need not deceive each other. 
Tou wish to marry my nieoe, because 
she is an heiress of great fortune, and 
you suppose that my wealth will in all 
probability swell her own. Moreover, 
she is more beautiful than any other 
young lady of your acquaintance; 
and, polished by your example, may 
do honour to your taste as well as 
your prudence. Under these circum- 
stances you will, I am quite sure, look 
with lenity on her girlish errors, and 
not love her the less because her 
foolish fimpy persuades her that she is 
in love with another." 

"Ahem I" said Mauteverer, "you 
view the matter with more sense than 
sentiment; but look yon, Brandon^ we 
must tiy, for both our sakes, if possi- 
ble, to keep the identity of Lovett 
with Clifford from being known. I 
do not see why it should be. No 
doubt he was on his guard while play- 
ing the gallant, and committed no 
atrocity at Bath. The name of Clif- 
ford is hitherto perfectly unsullied. 
Ko fraud, no violence are attached 
to the appellation ; and if the rogue 
will but keep his owniX)unsel, we 
may hang him out of the way without 
the secret traniq>iring." 

" But, if I remember right," said 
Brandon, "the new^apers say that 
tills Lovett will be tried some seventy 
or eighty miles only from Bath, and 
that gives a chance of recognition." 

" Ay, but he will be devilishly 
altered, I imagine ; for his wound has 
already been but a bad beautifier to 
his face : moreover, if the dog has any 
delicacy, he will naturally dislike to be 



known as the gaUant of that gay city, 
where he shone so Bucoessfhlly, aad 
will disguise himself as well as he is 
able. I hear wonders of his powers of 
self-transformation." 

" But he may commit himself on 
the point between this and his trial/' 
said Brandon. 

"I think of ascertaining how &r 
that is likely, by sending my valet 
down to him (you know one treats 
these gentlemen highwaymen with a 
certain connderation, and hangs them 
with all due respect to their feelings), 
to lunt that it will be doubtless very 
unpleasant to him, under his ' present 
unfortunate circumstances' (is not 
that the phrase?), to be known as the 
gentleman who ei^oyed so deserved a 
popularity at Bath, and that, though 
' the laws of my country compel me ' 
to prosecute him, yet, should he desire 
it, he may be certain that I will pre- 
serve his seoret.--^ome, Brandon, 
what say you to that manceuvre 1 it 
will answer my purpose, and make 
the gentleman — ^for doubtless he is 
all sensibility-Hdied tears at my 
generous forbearance ! " 

" It is no bad idea," said Brandon. 
" I commend you for it. At all events, 
it is necessary that my niece shoald 
not know the situation of her lover. 
She is a girl of a singular turn of 
mind, and fortune has made her inde- 
pendent Who knows but what she 
might commit some folly or another, 
write petitions to the King, and beg* 
me to present them, or go— for she 
has a world of romance in her — ^to 
prison, to console him; or, at all 
events, she would beg my kind offices 
on his behalf— a request peculiarly 
awkward, as in all probability I shall 
have the honour of trying him." 

" Ay, by the by, so you wilL And 
I fancy the poor rogue's audacity will 
not cause you to be less severe than 
you usually are. They say you pro- 
mise to make more human pendulums 
than any of your brethren." 



PAUL CUFJTOBD. 



2»1 



Bnndon. " Well, I own I hiiTe a bUe 
against, my species ; I loathe their 
folly and their half yioM. 'Bidet et 
odU ' * is my motto ; and I allow, that 
it. is not the philosophy that makes 
men merciful 1 " 

*' Well, Juvenal's wisdom be yours 1 
o^mine be Horace's ! " rained Maul- 
everer, as he picked his teeth ; ** but 
I am glad you see the absolute neces- 
sity ofkeeping this secret from Lucy's 
suspicion. She never reads the piq;>erB^ 
I suppose) — Girls never doT' 

"No ! and I will take care not to 
have them thrown in her way; and 
aa» in consequence of my poor bro- 
ther's recent death, she sees nobody 
but us, tbere is little chance, should 
Lovett's right to the name of Clifford 
be discovered, that it should reach 
herearsl" 

" BiU those confounded servants 1 " 

''True enough 1 but consider, that 
before ^^ know it, the newspapers 
will ; so <£at, should it be needful, we 
shall have our own tivie to caution 
iheaL I need on(y aay to Lucy's 
woman, 'A poor gentleman, a friend 
of the late riquire's, whom your mis- 
tress used to danee with, and you 
must have seen— Captain CUfford^is 
to be tried for his Ufe : it wiU shock 
her, poor thing 1 in her present state 
of health, to t^ her of so sad an 
event to her fieither's friend ; therefore 
be silent, as you value your place and 
ten guineas,'— and I may be tolerably 
sure of caution 1 " 

" You ought to be ehainnap to the 
' ways and means' conunittee 1 " cried 
Vaole verer. " My mind is now easy ; 
and when once poor Clifford is gone— 
*/aUen Jram a high estate;'— we may 
break the matter gently to her; aad, 
as I intend thereon to be very respect- 
ful, very delicate, &c., she cannot but 
be sensible of my ^indnfws and real 
affection r 



* < Be kuiffht tmd htiiet.* 



'' And if a Uve dog be better than a 
dead lion," added Brandon, " surely 
a lord in ezisto&ce will be better than 
a highwayman hanged 1 " 

"According to ordinary logics" 
rained Mauleverer, "that syUo^sm 
is dear enough ; and though I bc^eve 
a girl may cUng, now and then, to the 
memory of a departed lover, I do not 
think she will when the memory is 
allied with shame. Love is nothing 
more than vanity pleased ; wound the 
vanity, and you destroy the level 
Imqj will be forced, after having 
made so bad a choice of a lover, to 
make a good one in a husband,— 4n 
order to recover her self-esteem 1 " 

"And therefore you are certain of 
her ! " oaid Brandon, ironioaUy. 

" Thanks to my stai^-my garter^. 
n^ anoestor, the first baron, and my- 
self, the first eari-*-I hope I am," said 
Mauleverer, and the conversation 
turned. Mwdevterer did net stay much 
longer with the judge; and Brandon^ 
left alone, reemxed once more to Uie 
pemaal of his letters. 

We scarcely know what sensatioiia 
it would hare oceasioned in one who 
had known Brandon only in his later 
yean, could he have read these lettev^ 
referring to so much earlier a date. 
There was la the keen and arid cfaft- 
racter of the man, so littie that recalled 
any idea of courtship or youthful gal- 
hintry, that a oorrespondenee ai thai 
nature would have appeared almost as 
unnataral as the loves of plants, or the 
amatory S(tftttung8 of a mineoriL The 
correspondence now before Brandon 
was descriptive of various feelinga^ but 
all appertaining to the same dass: 
most of them were apparent answera 
to letters from him. One while they 
replied tenderly to expressions ii 
tenderness^ but intimated a doubt 
whether the writer would be able to 
constitute his future happineas, and 
atone for certain sacrifices of birth and 
fdrtune, and ambitions prospects, to 
which she alluded : at other times, a 



282 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



vein of latent coquetry seemed to 
pervade the stylo— an indeBcribable 
air of ooolnoBs and resenre contrasted 
former passages in the correspondence, 
and was calculated to convey to the 
reader an impression that the feelings 
of the loYer were not altogether 
adequately returned. Frequently the 
writer, as if Brandon had expressed 
himself sensible of this conviction, 
reproached him for unjust jealousy 
and unworthy suspicion. And the 
tone of the reproach yaried in each 
letter: sometimes it was gay and 
satirising ; at others, soft and ezpostu- 
latoiy ; at others, grayely reasoning; 
and often, haughtily indignant. Still, 
throughout the whole correspondence, 
on the part of the mistress, there was 
a sufficient stamp of individuality to 
give a shrewd examiner some prolmble 
guess at the writer^s character. He 
would have judged her, perhaps, 
capable of strong and ardent feeling, 
but ordinarily of a light and capridous 
turn, and seemingly prone to imagine 
and to resent offence. With these 
letters were mingled others in Bran- 
don's writing— of how different, of 
how impassioned a description I AU 
that a deep, proud, meditatiye, exact- 
ing character could dream of lore 
given, or require of love returned, 
was poured bumingly orer the pages ; 
yet they were fuU of reproach, of 
jealousy, of a nice and torturing 
observation, as calculated to wound 
as the ardour might be fitted to 
charm ; and often the bitter tendency 
to disdain that distinguished his 
temperament broke through the 
fondest enthusiasm of courtship, or 
the softest outpourings of love. '' You 
saw me not yesterday," he wrote in 
one letter, " but I saw you ; all day I 
was by you; you gave not a look 
which passed me unnoticed; you 
made not a movement which I did 
not chronicle in my memory. Julia^ 
do you tremble when I tell you thist 
Tes, if you have a heart; / know these 



words would stab it to the core ! Ton 
may affect to answer me indignantly f 
Wise dissembler { — ^it is reiy skilful 
— ^veiy, to assume anger when you 
have no reply. I repeat, during the 
whole of that party of pleasure — 
(pleasure ! well, your tastes^ it must 
be acknowledged, are exquimte!) 
which you eiyoyed yesterday, and 
which you so &intly asked me to 
share, my eye was on you. Tou did 
not Imow that I was in the wood when 
you took the arm of the incomparable 
Digby, with so pretty a semblance of 
alarm at the moment the snake, 
which my foot disturbed, glided 
across your path. Tou did not know 
I was within hearing of the tent where 
yon made so agreeable a repast> and 
from which your laughter sent peala 
so merry and so numerous. Laughter f 
0, Julia, can yon tell me that you love^ 
and yet be happy, even to mirth, 
when I am away? Love! God, 
how different a sensation is mine I 
Mine makes my whole principle of 
life! Yours! I tell you, that I think, 
at moments, I would rather have your 
hate than the lukewarm sentimait ' 
you bear to me, and honour by the 
name of ^ affection.' Pretty phrase 1 
I hare no affedUm for you ! Give me 
not that sickly word ; but try with 
me, Julia> to inrent some expression 
that has never filtered a paltry 
meaning through the lips of another f 
Affection! why that is a sister's 
word— a girl's word to her pet 
squirrel ! never was it made for that 
ruby and most ripe mouth ! Shall I 
come to your house this evening] Your 
mother has asked me, and you — ywn 
heard her, and said nothing. Oh f 
but that was maiden reserve — ^wasitf 
and maiden reserve caused you to 
take up a book the moment I left 
you, as if my company made but an 
ordinary amusement instantly to be 
replaced by another ! When / have 
seen you, society, books, food, all are 
hateful to me; but you, sweet Julia^ 



PAUL CLIFFOBD. 



23$ 



you can read, can yon 1 Why, when 
/ left yon, I lingered by the parlour 
window fbr hours, till dusk, and you 
never once lifted your eyes, nor saw 
me pass and repass. At least, I 
thought yon would hare watched my 
steps when I left the house; but I 
err, charming moralist! According 
to you, that vigilance would have been 
meanness." 

In another part of the corre- 
spondence, a more grave, if not a 
deeper, gush of feeling struggled for 
expression. 

" You say, Julia, that were you to 
marry one who thinks so much of 
what he surrenders for you, and who 
requires from yourself so vast a return 
of love, you should tremble for the 
future happiness of both of us. Julia, 
the triteness of that fear proves that 
you love not at all. I do not tremble 
for our future happiness; on the 
contraiy, the intensity of my passion 
for yon makes me kTiow that we 
never can be happy 1 never beyond 
the first rapture of our union. Happi- 
ness is a quiet and tranquil feeling. 
Ko feeling that I can possibly bear to 
you will ever receive those epithets,^— 
I know that I shall be wretched and 
accursed when I am united to you. 
Start not; I will presently tell you 
why. But I do not dream of happi- 
ness, neither (could you &thom one 
drop of the dark and limitless ocean 
of my emotions) would you name to 
me that word. It is not the mercan- 
tile and callous calcuhition of chances 
for 'future felicity' (what homily 
supplied you with so choice a term 1) 
that enters into the heart that 
cherishes an all-pervading love. 
Passion looks only to one object, to 
nothing beyond,— I thirsty I consume, 
not for happiness, but yow. Were 
your possession inevitably to lead me 
to a gulf of anguish and shame, think 
you I should covet it one jot the less? 
If you carry one thought, one hope, 
one dim fancy, beyond the event that 



makes you mine, yon may be more 
worthy of the esteem of others ; but 
you are utterly undeserving of mjf 
lave. 



"I will teU you now why I know 
we cannot be happy. In the first 
place, when yon say that I am proud 
of birth, that I am morbidly ambitious, 
that I am anxious to shine in the 
great world, and that after the first 
intoxication of love has passed away 
I shall feel bitterness against one who 
has so humbled my pride and dark- 
ened my prospects, I am not sure thai 
you wholly err. But I am sure that 
the instant remedy is in your power. 
Have you patience, Julia, to listen to 
a kind of history of myself, or rather 
of my feelings? if so, perhaps it may 
be the best method of explaining aU 
that I would convey. Ton will see,, 
then, that my fiunily pride and my 
worldly ambition are not founded 
altogether on those basements which 
move my laughter in another : — ^if my 
feelings thereon are really, however, 
as you would insinuate, equal matter 
for derision, behold, my Julia, I can 
laugh equally at them ! So pleasant 
a tldng to mo is scorn, that I would 
rather despise myself than have no 
one to despise ; — ^but to my narrative I 
You must know that there are but 
two of us, sons of a country squire, of 
old fSeunily, which once possessed largo 
possessions and something of histori- 
cal renown. We lived in an old 
country place ; my &ther was a con- 
vivial dog, a fox-hunter, a drunkard, 
yet in his way a fine gentleman, — and 
a very disreputable member of society. 
The first feelings towards him that I 
can remember were those of shame. 
Not much matter of family pride 
here, you will say ! True, and that is 
exactly the reason which made me 
cheri^ fiunily pride elsewhere. My 
father's house was filled with guests, 
some high and some low^—they all 



2S4 



PAUL CUFFOBD. 



united in ridieale of th« host. I toon 
detected the laughter, and you may 
imagine that it did not please me. 
Meanwhile the old huntsman, whose 
family was ahout as aneient as ours, 
and whose ancestors had officiated in 
his capacity for the ancestors of his 
master time out of mind, told me 
story after story about the BrandonB 
of yore. I turned from the stories to 
more legitimate histoiy, and found 
the legends were tolerably tme. I 
learned to glow at this disooyery : the 
piide— humbled when I remembered 
my sire— reyived when I remembered 
my ancestors; I became xeeolTed to 
emulate them, to restore a sunken 
name, and vowed a worid of nonsense 
on the subject The habit of brooding 
OTer these ideas grew on me ; I never 
heard a jest broken on my paternal 
guardian — I never caught the maudlin 
look of his reeling ^es, nor listened 
to some exquisite inanity from his 
besotted lips, but what my thoughts 
flew instantly back to the Sir Charleses 
and the Sir Boberts of my race, and 
I -oomforted myself with the hope that 
the present degeneracy should pass 
away. Hence, Julia» my fiunily pride; 
hence, too, another feeling you dislike 
in me,— disdain ! I first learned to 
despise my &ther, the host, and I 
then despised my acquaintances, his 
guests ; for I saw, while they laughed 
ftt him, that they flattered, and that 
their merriment was not the only 
thing snfibred to feed at his expense. 
Thus contonpt grew up with me, and 
I had nothing to check it ; for when 
I looked around I saw not one living 
thing that I could respect This 
&ther of mine had the sense to think 
I was no idiot He was proud (poor 
man !) of ' my talents,' viz., of prizes 
won at school, and congratulatory 
letters from my masten. He sent me 
to collego : my mind took a leap 
there : I will tell you, prettiest^ what 
it was 1 Before I went thither I had 
some fine vague visions about virtue. 



I thought to revive my ancestral 
honours by being good ; in short, I 
was an embiyo King Pepin. I awoke 
from this dream at the onivenity. 
There, for the first time, I peroeived 
the real consequCTce of rank. 

''At school, you know, Julia^ boys 
care nothing for a lord. A good 
cricketer, an excellent fellow, is wortii 
all the earlsr in the peerage. But st 
college all that ceases : bats and balls 
sink into the nothingness in whidi 
corals and bells had simk before. One 
grows manly, and worships coronets 
and carriages. I saw it was a fine 
thing to get a prin, but it was ten 
times a finer thing to get drunk with 
a peer. So, when I had done the 
first, my resolve to be worthy of my 
sires made me do the Beo(«id— nol^ 
indeed, exactly; I never got drunk; 
my fiither disgusted me with that 
viee betimes. To his gluttony I owe 
my vegetable die^ and to his inebriety 
my addiction to water. No ; I did 
not get drunk with peera : bet I wm 
just as agreeable to them as if I had 
been equally embmted. I knefv 
intimately all the < Hats'* in the 
imiversity> and I was heneeforUt 
looked up to by the ' Gaps,' as if my 
head had gained the hoght of eveiy 
hat that I knew. But I did not do 
this immediately. I must tell joib. 
two UtUe anecdotes, that first initiated 
me into the seeret of real greatneM^ 
The first was this : I was sitting at 
dinner with some fellows of a college, 
grave men and clever; two of them, 
not knowing me, were conversing 
about me : they heard, they said, that 
I should never be so good a fellow as 
my fiither, — ^hsve such a cellar, or 
keep such a house. 

" ' I have met six earls there and a 
marquess,' quoth the other senior, 

** * And his son,' returned the fizat 



* At Cambridge the eons of noblemen, and 
the eldeet aone of baronets, are allowed- to 
wear hats InstMd of the academieal cap. 



PAXIL CLIFFOBD. 



2tfi 



don, 'only keeps company wiihiiany 
I beliem' 

" <Bo then,' said I to myself, ' to 
deserve the praise eren of olever men, 
one most have good vines, know 
plenty of earls, and forswear sizars.' 

'< Notiking conld be truer than my 
condosion. 

" Anecdote the second is this >— • 
On the day I gained a high uniTersity 
prize, I iuTited my Mends to dine 
with me : foor of them refiised, because 
they were engaged (they had been 
asked nnce I asked them) — to whom? 
the richest man at the uniTersity. 
These occurrences happening at the 
same time, threw me into a profound 
VBwesrj : I awoke, and became a man 
of the world. I no longer resolred to 
be virtnons, and to hnnt after the 
ghny of your Romans and your 
Athenians I resolved to become rich, 
powerfhl, and of woridty repute. 

" I abjured my honest sizars, and, 
as I said before, I conrted some rich 
*■ Hats.' Behold my first grand step 
In the worid { I became the parasite 
flttd the flatteier. What ! would my 
pride snflbr this) Verily yes, my 
pride delighted in it; finr it soothed 
ray spirit of contempt to put these 
fine fellows to my use ! it soothed me 
to see how easily I could cajole them, 
and to what a Tariety of purposes I 
could apply even the wearisome dis- 
gust of their aoquaintaneci Kothing 
is so foolish as to say the idle great 
are of no use; th^ can be put to any 
loe whatsoever tiutt a wise man is 
Inclined to make of them I Well, 
Julia, lo 1 my chaiaoler already formed; 
fimily pride, disdain, and worldly 
ambition,-— there it is for yon ; aft«: 
circumstances only strengthened the 
impression already made. I desired, 
on leaving college, to go abroad ; my 
fiiiher had no money' to giro me. 
What signified that) I looked care- 
lessly round for some wealthier conve- 
nience than the paternal hoard: I 
found it in a Loid Kauiererer; he 



had been at college with me, and I 
endured him easUyas a companion, — 
for he had accomplishments, wit, and 
good-nature; I made him wish to go 
abroad, and I made him think he 
should die of ennui if I did not 
accompany him. To his request to 
that effect, I reludanUy agreed, and 
saw eyerything in Europe, which he 
neglected to see, at his expense. 
What amused me the most was the 
perception that I, the parasite, was 
respected by him ; and he, the patron, 
was ridiculed by me ! It would not 
have been so if I had depended on 
' my virtne.' Well, sweetest Julia, 
the world, as I have said, gave to my 
college experience a sacred authority. 
I returned to England, and my fiither 
died, leaving to me not a sixpence^ 
and to my brother an estate so 
mortgaged that he could notei\joy it, 
and so restricted that he could not 
sell it. It was now the time for me 
to profit by the experience I boasted 
of. I saw that It was necessary I 
should take some profession. Pro- 
fossions are the masks to your pauper- 
rogue; they give respectability to 
cheating, and a diploma to feed upon 
others. I analysed my talents, and 
looked to the customs of my country : 
the result was my resolution to take 
to the bar. I had an inexhaustible 
power of application; I whs keen, 
shrewd, and audacious. All these 
qualities ' tell ' at the courts of justice. 
I kept my legitimate number of terms, 
— ^I was called, — ^I went the drouit, — 
I obtained not a brief— not a brief, 
JuliA ! My health, never robust, gare 
way beneath stuc^ and irritation ; I 
was ordered to betake myself to the 
country; I came to this village, as 
one both salubrious and obscure. I 
lodged in the house of your aunt, — 
you came thither daily, — ^I saw you, — 
you ki^ow the rest. But where, all 
this time, were my noble Mends, yon 
^l say? 'Sdeath, since we had left 
college, they had learned a little of 



280 



PAUL CUITOEO. 



the wisdom I had (hen pogaessed; 
they were not dispoeed to give some- 
thing for nothing ; thej had yonnger 
brothers, and oousins, and mistressesy 
andy for aught I know, children to 
provide for. Besides* they had their 
own expenses : the richer a man is, 
the less he has to give. One of them 
would hare bestowed on me a living; 
if I had gone in the church ; another, 
a commission, if I had joined his 
regiment. But I knew the day was 
past both for priest and soldier ; and 
it was not merely to lire, no, nor to 
live comfortably, but to eiyoy power, 
that I desired; so I declined these 
ofifers. Others of my friends would 
have been delighted to hare kept me 
in their house, feasted me, joked 
with me, rode with me, and nothing 
more 1 But I had already the sense 
to see, that if a man dances himself 
into distinction, it is never by the 
steps of attendance. One must receive 
favours and court patronage, but it 
must be with the air of an independent 
man. My old friends thus rendered 
useless, my legal studies forbade me 
to make new, nay, they even estranged 
me from the old ; lor people may say 
what they please about a similarity of 
opinions being necessary to friendship, 
— a similarity of habits is much more 
so. It is the man you dine, break&st> 
and lodge with, walk, ride, gamble, 
or thieve with, that ib your friend; 
not the man who likes Virgil as well 
as you do, and agrees with you in an 
admiration of Handel. Meanwhile, 
my chief prey. Lord Maulevdier, was 
gone; he had taken another man's 
dulcinea., and sought out a bower in 
Italy; from that time to this, I have 
never heard of him nor seen him ; I 
know not even his address. With ike 
exception of a few stray gleanings 
from my brother, who^ good easy 
man ! I could plunder more, were I 
not resolved not to ruin the &mily 
stock, I have been thrown on myself; 
the result is, that, though as clever as 



my fellows, I hare narrowly shunned 
starvation : had my wants been less 
simple, there would have been no 
shunning in the case. But a man is 
not easily starved who drinks water, 
and eats by the ounce. A more 
effectual late might have be&llen me : 
disappointment, wrath, baffled hope, 
mortified pride, all these, which 
grnawed at my heart, might have 
consumed it long ago ; I might have 
fretted away as a garment which the 
moth eateth, had it not been for that 
fhnd of obstinate and iron hardness, 
which nature,—- I beg pardon, there 
is no nature, — dreunukmee boitowed 
upon me. This has bomeme up, and 
will bear me yet through time, and * 
shame, and bodily weakness, and 
mental fever, until my ambition has 
won a certain height, and my disdain 
of human pettiness rioted in the 
external sources of fortune, as well as 
an inward fountain of bitter and self- 
fed consohition. Yet, oh, Julia! X 
know not if even this would have 
supported me, if at that epoch of life, 
when I was most wounded, most 
stricken in body, most soured in mind^ 
my heart had not met and fiutened 
itself to yours : I saw you, loved yon, 
and life became to me a new object. 
Even now, as I write to yon, ail my 
bitterness, my pride, vanish ; every- 
thing I have longed for disappears; 
my very ambition is gone. I have 
no hope but for you, Julia; beautiful, 
adored Julia ! — ^when I love you, I love 
even my kind. Oh, you know not 
the power you possess over me I Do 
not betray it : you can yet make me all 
that my boyhood once dreamed; or 
you can harden evexy thought, feeling; 
sensation, into stone. 

* * ♦ ♦ * 

* * m * * 

"I was to tell you why I look not 
for happiness in our nnion. Yon have 
now seen my nature. You have traced 
the histoxy of my life, by tracing the 
history of my chuacter. You see what 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



m 



I gurrender in gaining yon. I do not 
denj the sacrifice. I surrender the 
verj essentials of my present mind 
and soul. I cease to be worldly. I 
eannot raise myself, I cannot revive 
my ancestral name : nay, I shall re- 
linquish it for ever. I shall adopt a 
disguised appellation. I shall sink 
into another grade of life. In some 
remote village, by means of some 
humbler profession than that I now 
follow, we must earn our subsistenoe, 
and smile at ambition. I tell you 
frankly, Julia, when I close the eyes 
of my heart, — ^when I shut you from 
my gaze, this sacrifice appals me. 
But even then you force yourself before 
me, and I feel that one glance from 
your eye is more to me than all. If 
you could bear with me, — ^if you could 
soothe me, — ^if when a cloud is on 
me you could sufifer it to pass away 
unnoticed, and smile on me the mo- 
ment it is gone, oh, Julia ! there would 
be then no extreme of poverty,— no 
abasement of fortune, — ^no abandon- 
ment of early dreams which would 
not seem to me rapture if coupled 
with the bliss of knowing that you 
are mine. Never should my lip — 
never should my eye tell you that 
there is that thing on earth for which 
I repine, or which I could desire. No, 
Julia^ could I flatter my heart with 
this hope you would not find me 
dream of unhappiness and you united. 
But I tremble, Julia, when I think of 
your temper and mj own : you will 
conceive a gloomy look from one never 
mirthful is an insult; and you will 
feel every vent of passion on Fortune 
or on others as a reproach to you. 
Then, too, you cannot enter into my 
nature; you cannot descend into its 
caverns; you cannot behold, much 
less can you deign to lull, the exact- 
ing and lynx-eyed jealousy that dwells 
there. Sweetest Julia I every breath 
of yours, every touch of yours, every 
look of yours I yearn for beyond all a 
mother's longing for the child that 



has been torn from her for years. 
Your head leaned upon an old tree 
(do you remember it near ♦♦♦?), and 
I went every day, after seeing you, to 
kiss it. Do you wonder that I am 
jealous ? How can I love you as I do 
and be otherwise ? Mj whole being is 
intoxicated with you ! 



'' This, theh, your jftide and mine, 
your pleasure in the admiration of 
others, your lightness, Julia, make 
me foresee an eternal and gushing 
source of torture to my mind. I care 
not ; — I care for nothing so that yon 
are mine, if but for one hour." 

It seems that, despite the strange, 
sometimes the imlover-like and fiercely 
selfish nature of these letters from 
Brandon, something of a genuine tone 
of passion, — ^perhaps their originality, 
— aided, no doubt, by some vitered 
eloquence of the writer, and some 
treacherous inclination on the part 
of the mistress, ultimately conquered; 
and that a union so little likely to 
receive the smile of a prosperous star 
was at length concluded. The letter 
which termiruited the correspondence 
was from Brandon : it was written on 
the eveningbefore the marriage, which, 
it appeared by the. same letter, was to 
be private and concealed. After a 
rapturous burst of hope and joy, it 
continued thus ;--• 

" Yes, Julia, I recant my words : I 
have no belief that you or I shall ever 
have cause hereafter for unhappiness. 
Those eyes that dwelt so tenderly on 
mine; that hand whose pressure lin- 
gers yet in every nerve of my frame ; 
those lips turned so coyly, yet, shall 
I say, reluctantly 1 from me ; all tell 
me that you love me ; and my fears 
are bamshed. Love, which conquered 
my nature, will conquer the only thing 
I would desire to see altered in yours. 
Nothing could ever make me adore 
you less, though you affect to dread 
it ; notldng but a knowledge that you 



988 



PAUIi CUFf OBD. 



are unwortliy of me, thai yon hare a 
thought for another,— -then I Bhonld 
not hate you. No : the priyilege of 
my past ezistenoe would reTive; I 
should revel in a luxuiy of contempt, 
I should despise you, I should mock 
you, and I should be once more what 
I was before I knew you. But why 
do I talk thus 1 My bride, my blessing, 
foigiTemel" 

• • • • 

In concluding our eztraets from 
thiseorrespondence,wew]sh the reader 
to note, firstf that the love professed 
by Brandon seems of that yehement 
and corporeal nature wliich, while it 
is often the least durable, is also the 
most susceptible of the fiercest ex- 
tremes of hatred, or eren of disgust. 
Secondly, that the eharaeter opened] 



by this sarcastic candour eYidently 
required in a mistress either an utter 
derotion or a skilful address. And 
thirdly, that we have hinted at anch 
qualities in the fiur correspondent as 
did not seem sanguinely to promiae 
either of those essentials. 

While with a curled, yet oftoi with 
a quireringy lip the austere and sar- 
castic Brandon slowly compelled him- 
self to the task of proceeding through 
these monuments of former folly and 
youthful emotion, the further eluci- 
dation of those events, now rapidly 
urging on a &tal and dread cataa- 
trophe, spreads before us a narratiye 
occurring many years prior to the 
time at which we are at present 
arriyed. 



OHAPTEB XXXm. 

Lift the dark TeU of yaanl-bcbliid^wliat writs? 

▲ hunaii heart Vast oity, when reside 
All glories and all TilenesMa I— while foul, 
Tet Bllent» throoi^ the mar of paariona roHi 
The xiTw of the DarliDflT Bin— and baan 

▲ Ufo and yet a poiaoa on its tide. 

• • • • • 



"CbM.Thywi^r— 
Viet ATSunt 1 1 Ve cflumged tiiat word to «soom 1 ' 

CtaH. Tbydiild?— 

Fid. Ay,thatetilkeahoin O ' my ohfld— my child i " 

Lave and Hatred, bp — - 



To an obscure town in ♦ ♦ * ♦ shire, 
there came to reside a young couple, 
whose appearance and habits drew 
towards them from the neighbouring 
gossips a more than ordinaiy atten- 
tion. They bore the name of WelforcL 
The man assumed the profession of a 
solicitor. He came wiUiout introduc- 
tion or recommendation ; his manner 
of life bespoke poyerty; his address 
was reseryed, and eyen sour; and 
despite the notice and scrutiny with 
which he was regarded, he gained no 



clients, and made no lawsuits. The 
want of all those decent charicUamams 
which men of eyery profession are 
almost necessitated to employ, and 
the sudden and unushered nature of 
his coming were, perhaps, the cause 
of this ill-success. " His house was 
too sman," people said, "for respecta- 
bility." And littie good could be got 
from a solicitor, the yery rails round 
whose door were so sadly in want 
of repainting ! Then, too, Mrs. Wel- 
ford made a yast number of enemie?. 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



2S9 



She was, beyond all eacpnmon, bean- 
tiful ; and there was a certain coqnetry 
in her manner which shewed she was 
aware of her attractions. All the 
ladies of * * * * hated her. A few 
people called on the young couple. 
WeUbrd reoelTed them coldly ; their 
InTitations were unaccepted, and, what 
was worse, they were never returned. 
The devil himself could not have 
supported an attorney under such 
drcnmstances. Beserved — shabby- 
poor — rude — ^introdnctionless— a bad 
house— an unpainted railing— and a 
beautiflil wife t Nevertheless, though 
Welford was not employed, he was, as 
we have said, watched. On their 
first arrival, which was in summer, 
the young pairwere often seen walking 
together in the fields or groves whi^ 
surrounded their home. Sometimes 
they walked affectionately together, 
and it was observed with what care 
Welford adjusted his wife's cloak or 
shawl around her slender shape, as 
the cool of the evening increased. 
But often his arm was withdrawn, — 
helingered behind,and they continued 
their walk or returned homeward in 
silenoe and apart Bydogreeswhispers 
circulated throughout the town that 
the new-mamed couple lived by no 
means happily. The men laid the 
&ult on ike stem-looking husband ; 
the women, on the minx of a wife. 
However, tiie solitary servant whom 
they kept declared, that though Mr. 
Welford did sometimes frown, and 
Mrs. Welford did sometimes weep, 
they were extremely attached to each 
other, and only quarrelled through 
love. The maid had had four lovers 
herself, and was possibly experienced 
in such matters. They received no 
visitors^ near or from a distance ; and 
the postman declared he had never 
seen a letter directed to either. Thus 
a kind of mystery hung over the pair, 
and made them still more gazed on 
and still more disliked — which is 
saying a great deal— than they would 



have otherwise been. Poor as Welford 
was, his air and walk eminently 
bespoke what common persons tenn 
genitUUy, And in this he had greatly 
the advantage of Mb beautiful wife, 
who, though there was certainly 
nothing vulgar or plebeian in her 
aspect, altogether wanted the refine- 
ment of manner, look, and phrase, 
which characterised Welford. For 
about two years they lived in this 
manner, and sofrugallyand tranquilly, 
that though Welford had not any 
visible means of subsistence, no one 
could well wonder in what manner 
th^ did subsist. About the end of 
that time, Welford suddenly embarked 
a small sum in a county speculation. 
In the course of this adventure, to the 
great surprise of .his neighbours, he 
evinced an extraordinaiy turn for 
calculation, and his habits plainly 
bespoke a man both of business and 
ability. This disposal of capital 
brought a sufiicient return to Bupp<»^ 
the Welfords, if they had been so 
disposed, in rather a better style than 
heretofore. They remained, however, 
in much the same state; and the 
only difference thattheevent produced 
was the retirement of Mr. Welford 
from the profession he had embraced. 
He was no longer a solicitor I It must 
be allowed that he resigned no great 
advantages in this retirement. About 
this time some officers were quartered 
at * * * * ; and one of them, a hand- 
some lieutenant, was so struck with 
the charms of Mrs. Welford, whom he 
saw at church, that he lost no oppor- 
tunity of testifying his admiration. 
It was maliciously, yet not unfound- 
edly, remarked, that though no abso- 
lute impropriety could be detected 
in the manner of Mrs. Welford, she 
certainly seemed fiur from displeased 
with the evident homage of the young 
lieutenant. A blush tinged her 
cheek when she saw him ; and the 
gallant coxcomb asserted that the 
blush was not always without a smile. 



240 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



Emboldened by the interpretaiioiis of 
bis Tuiity, and oontrafttiiig, as ereiy 
one else did, his own animstiii fiu$e and 
glittering garb with the ascetic and 
gloomy oonntenance, the unstudied 
dress, and austere gait, wliich de- 
stroyed in Welford the effect of a 
really handsome person, our lieutenant 
thought fit to express his passion by 
a letter, which he conreyed to Mrs. 
Welford's pew. Mrs. Welford went 
not to church that day ; the letter was 
found by a good-natured neighbour, 
and enclosed anonymously to the 
husband. 

Whatever, in the secrecy of domes- 
tic intercourse, took place on this 
erent was necessarily unknown ; but 
the next Sunday the fiuso of Mr. Wel- 
ford, which had never before appeared 
at church, was discerned by one vigi- 
lant neighbour — probably the anony- 
mous friend, — not in the same pew 
with his wife, but in a remote comer 
of the sacred house. And once, when 
the lieutenant was watching to read 
In Mrs. Welford's face some answer 
to his epistle, the same obliging in- 
spector declared that Welford's coun- 
tenance assumed a sardonic and with- 
ering sneer that made his veiy blood 
to creep. However this be, the 
lieutenant left his quarters, and Mrs. 
Welford's reputation remained dissa- 
tisfiMitorily untarnished. Shortly after 
this the county speculation failed, 
and it was understood that the Wei- 
fords were about to leave the town, 
whither none knew,-*some said to 
gaol ; but then, unhappily, no debts 
could be discovered. Their bills had 
been "next to nothing;" but, at leasts 
they had been regularly paid. How- 
ever, before the rumoured emigration 
took place, a circumstance equally 
wonderful to the good people of * * * * 
occurred. One bright spring morn- 
ing, a party of pleasure from a great 
house in the vicinity passed through 
that town. Most conspicuous of these 
was a young horseman, richly dressed. 



and of a remarkably showy and hand* 
some appearance. Not a little sensible 
of the sensation he created, this cava- 
lier lingered behind his companions 
in order to eye more deliberately 
certain damsels stationed in a window, 
and who were quite ready to return 
his glances with interest. At this 
moment the horse, which was fretting 
itself fiercely against the rein that 
restrained it from its fellows, took 
fright at a knifegrinder, started vio^ 
lently to one side, and the graceful 
cavalier, who had been thinking, not 
of the attitude best adapted to pre* 
serve his equilibrium, but to display 
his figure, was thrown with some 
force upon a heap of bricks and rub- 
bish which had long, to the scandal 
of the neighbourhood, stood before 
the paintless railings around Mr. 
Welford's house. Welford himself 
came out at the time, and felt com- 
pelled, for he was by no means one 
whose sympathetic emotions flowed 
easily, to give a glance to the con- 
dition of a man who lay motionless 
before his very door. The horseman 
quickly recovered his senses, but 
found himself unable to rise ; one of 
his legs was broken. Supported in 
the arms of his groom he looked 
around, and his eye met Welford's. 
An instant recognition gave life to 
the &ce of the former, and threw a 
dark blush over the sullen features of 
the latter. '' Heavens 1" said the 

cavalier, "is that " 

"Hist, my lord I" cried Welford, 
quickly interrupting him» and glanc- 
ing round. " But you are hurt, — ^will 
you enter my house 1" 
* The horseman signified his assent, 
and, between the groom and Welford, 
was borne within the shabby door of 
the ex-solicitor. The groom was then 
despatched with an excuse to the 
party, many of whom were already 
hastening around the house ; and 
though one or two did force them- 
selves across the inhospitable throihold 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



Ul 



yet so soon as they had uttered a 
few ezpletiyes, and 'felt their stare 
sink beneath the sullen and chilling 
asperity of the host, they satisfied 
themselves, that though it was d d 
unlucky for their Mend, yet they 
could do nothing for him at present; 
and promising to send to inquire 
after him the next day, they re- 
mounted and rode homeward, with 
an eye more attentiye .than usual to 
the motion of their steeds. They did 
not> however, depart till the surgeon 
of the town had made his appearance, 
and declared that the patient must 
not on any account be moved. • A 
lord's leg was a wind&ll that did not 
happen every day to the suigeon of 
* * * *, AH this while we may ima- 
gine the state of anxiety experienced 
• in the town, and the agonised en- 
durance of those rural nerves which 
are produced in scanty populations, 
and have so TcUittcotian a sympathy 
with the affairs of other people. One 
day— two days— three days — ^aweek 
— a fortnight, nay, a month, passed, 
and the lord was still the inmate of 
Mr. Welford's abode. Leaving the 
gossips to feed on their curiosity, — 
" Cannibals of their own hearts,'' — 
we must give a glance towards the 
interior of the inhospitable mansion 
of the ex-solicitor. 

It was towards evening, the sufiferer 
was supported on a so&, and the 
beautiful Mrs. Welford, who had offi- 
ciated as his nurse, was placing the 
pillow under the shattered limb. He 
himself was attempting to seize her 
hand, which she coyly drew back, 
and uttering things sweeter and more 
polished than she had ever listened 
to before. At this moment Welford 
softly entered ; he was unnoticed by 
either; and he stood at the door 
contemplating them with a smile of 
calm and self -hugging derision. The 
fiice of Mephistophiles regarding Mar- 
garet and Faust might suggest some 
idea of the picture we design to 
No. 36. 



pfunt ; but the countenance of Welford 
was more lofty, as well as comelier, 
in character, though not less malig- 
nant in expression, than that which 
the incomparable Betsch has given 
to the mocking fiend. So utter, so 
congratulatory, so lordly was the con- 
tempt on Welford's dark and striking 
features, that though he was in that 
situation in which ridicule usually 
attaches itself to the husband, it was 
the gallant and the wife that would 
have appeared to the beholder in a 
hmniliating and unenviable light. 

After a momentary pause, Welford 
approached with a heavy step, — ^the 
wife started ; — ^but, with a bliuad and 
smooth expression, which, since hia 
sojourn in the town of * * * *, had 
been rarely visible in his aspect, the 
host joined the pair, smiled on the 
nurse, and congratulated the patient 
on ' his progress towards recovery. 
The nobleman, well learned in the 
usages of the world, replied easily 
and gaily ; and the conversation flowed 
oncheerfiilenough till the wife, who had 
sat abstracted and apart, steidingever 
and anon' timid gUmces towards her 
husband, and looks of a softer mean- 
ing towards the patient, retired from 
the room. Welford then gave a turn 
to the conversation : he reminded the 
nobleman of the pleasant days they 
had passed in Italy, — of the adven- 
tures they had shared, and the intri- 
gues they had enjoyed; as the con- 
versation warmed it assumed a more 
free and licentious turn; and not a 
little we ween, would the good folks 
of * * * *, have been amazed could 
they have listened to the ' gay jests 
and the libertine maxims which 
flowed from the thin lips of that cold 
and severe Welford, whose counte- 
nance gave the lie to mirth. Of women 
in general they spoke with that lively 
contempt which is the customary tone 
with men of the world, — only in Wel- 
ford it assumed a bitterer, a deeper, 
and a more philosophical cast, than 

R 16 



MS 



PAUL CLIF901UX 



ftAdinlilsxMn 



TlMnoUemi 



yetlesB 



led cbamwd -with 



Ui Mend; the coiwwMiion mui just 
to Ub tMte ; snd when Wdffind hid 
■apporiad him «p to bed, he efaoek 
iluit penoA eordialfy hy the hmd, 
sod h^Md he ihevid Kxni see him in 
vety dUbrant dteBMrteneeB. When 
the peer's doonrsecloeed on WMntd, 
he stood motionlesB lor some mo- 
ments; he then with a soft etepas- 
eended to his own ohmnber. His 
wife slept sonidly; beside the bed 
was the inftnt^s emdle. As his eyes 
ftU on tiie latter, the rigid irony, now 
habitual to his feetoree^ rehaed ; he 
bent ov«r the emdle long, and in deep 
•ilence. The mother^s fitoe, blended 
iHth the sire's, was stamped on the 
deeping and cherab oonnteaance be- 
fore him ; and as at length, roaaing 
from his reveiy, he Idssed it gentfy, 
he luurmnred,— — 

'< When I look on yon I wffl beHepre 
that she once loved me.^Mi!* he 
said abnipt^, and riaing,— .^thln 
fttherly sentiment for a— -\i offer- 
ing is ezqinsite in me/" So saying, 
withotit glancittg iowaids hie mitt, 
iHio, dhrtmbed by ihe londneas of his 
last werd% stirred aneaaily, he left 
the room, and demended into that 
where he had eenvened with Ins 
gaest He shntiiie doer with eaation, 
and tsbtidiag to and fro the hamble 
apartment, gave vent to thongfats 
marahalled somewhat in the twoken 
aitay in whieh they new appear to 
the reader. 

"^Ay, ay, she has been my min! 
and if I were one of yonrweak Ibols 
who make a gospel of the siliiest and 
JttOBt mawkish foHies of this eoeial 
state, she weald now be my disgmce; 
but, instead of my di^gmoe, I will 
make her my foolBtool to homnr and 
wealth. An4then,tothedeyilwiththe 
feotsteoll Test twoyearal have borne 
what was oioQgh to tun my whole 
UeodiniogalUinaetiTitrrr 



--awaatedheart aadlifeini^aelt oe»; 
taaaelyfromthe woild, ocddnessyfaickepi 
ing,ingiatitade,ftem the one forwhem 
--<di, aas that I was !— J gave vp tiie 
meet ohexished part of my natoie-- 
rather nnynatare itself! Two yean I 
have borne thiivs&dnowwilllhave my 
t«fenge^-I wili sell her-HMll hert 
Ood ! IwillaeD her like the oodBimonest 
beastef amaiket) Andthiapatey 
pteeeeffidseooiniBhallbayme — mj 
world I Othermenfavengeanee oomet 
from faatied-*a base, nsh, mipl^e 
sopiiieal aentfanent ! mine eomes from 
seenH-the only wise state for the 
leaaon to teat in. Other men'a ven- 
geaaee niias tiieniBelveB>-mine ahaA 
save met Hah! — how my soai 
ehackleawhen I look at this pitifol 
pair, who think I see them not, and 
knowthatefeiy movement they make 
isen ameeh of my web ! Yet," and 
Welfrrd paoaed edewiy,— " yet I eaa- 
not but moek myself when I think 
of the aidi gdl that this Im^s mad- 
aesB, love^*-4ofe, indeed! — the veiy 
weed tonis me sick wi& loathings — 
made«fme. Had that wecnaa, i^Qy, 
weak, antomatal as she is, rea% 
loved me,— had she been aenalde of 
the wnqMnkaUe aaeriAee I had made 
to her (Antony^ was nothing to i^— 
he lost a real world only; mine waa 
the world of imagination), — had aha 
bat eondeaoended to kammymttare, 
to Bvbdae the woman'lB devil at her 
own, I ooeld hate Hved on in tlds 
babbling hermitage for ever, anal 
frncied myeelf happy and refldgne^, 
—•I ooald have beoome a different 
beia^. I frmsy I oonld liave beeoaae 
what Toor meraHato (qoacks!) oaU 
'good.' Bot Ods fr^ting frivolity of 
heart,--thiahi8t of fool's praiae, — thto 
peeviafaneBB of temper, — this sollaA- 
ness in answer to tiie moody thongrht, 
whieh in me ebe neither fathomed 
r fofgave,— this vulgar, daaly, 
hoBziy phiing at the paltiy pinehaB 
of the body's poverty, the domeatnc 
whines the hoasehold eompfaunt^-— 



P Attli (XSnOMOX 



MP 



^hen I-^I bite ttot a thcm^kt Ur 
SQcli pitIM trials of aSMdon; and 
iSL this irbxle my emms, &}^ ImrM 
hope; and disgoieed spiriii and Mttkcn 
name not tkougbt of; ike migfeltade 
of my Burrenda: lo her not e^ib 
comprehended; nay, her ^ineonv^e* 
ttienoe8,'-4k dim hearth, I rappoee, 
or a daUtlaleBs taMe,-MiOaipared, ay, 
absoliitely eomparad with aU whi<di 
I abandoned for her sake ! As tf it 
were not enoiigh,«--had I been a fool, 
an ambitionlem, sonllett fool,^the 
mere thought that I had liciiked my 
name to that of a tradeBaun-^I beg 
pardon, a reUred tradeeman l-'-ae If 
tiiat knowledge, — a knowledge I 
wonld strangle my whole imce, eveiy 
one who has enar met, seen me, rather 
than they should penetrate^-^wwe 
not enough when she taUas of 'oom- 
poring,'— to make me gnaw the rery 
flesh from my bones I No, no, no I 
Never was there so bright a turn in 
my &te as when this titled eeousemib, 
with his smooth voice and gaudy 
fripperies, esme hiflier f IwiUmake 
her a tool to earve my eseape from 
tills eavevn wherein she has plmged 
me. I will foment 'my lord's' pas* 
sion, tm ' my lord' thinks the 'paarien' 
(a butterfly's passion t) worth any 
price. ' I wUl then make my own 
terms, bind 'niy lord' to secney, and 
get rid of my wife, my shame, aad 
the obflenrity of Mr. Wellbrd, for ever. 
Bright, bright proepeets t let me shat 
my eyes to enj^yoa I B«t softtyr*- 
my ttoMe friend eaQs ^Melf a man 
of the world, skilled in hnmaas natvre, 
and a derider ef its pnjttiAo»; trae 
enough, in hiaewn little way^thanka 
not to enhaged tiews bat a victeos 
experienee-Hie he te t The book of 
the world is a vaat miseeDauy: he 



is perfectly w«naeqiialnted, doabtleas 
with these pages that treat of tiie 
feshionsj— prefoimdly irened, I war- 
naiy^ik^MaffM^ dtsMtfde^ tacked 
to the end ^ tile knlez. But sImII 
I, efen wilii aQ the nmstarship wfakh 



my »ind iumti eieroise orBr Ms^^ 
shall I be aMe nttezfy to free mysdf 
hi this * peer^f the world's ' mhid from 
ads^gvadiigfeaMmbraBee? Cnekiddf 
eadkeidt 'tis an nfjty word; a cen^ 
vwAiait, willing cuckold, hnmidi l^w^ 
there is no gMndemr, no philosophioal 
vanish in the phiasa Let mesea^ 
-^esf Ihate a remedy for all thai. 
I was maRiedprinratdy,<-^weIl j mider 
disgnised nameSy-^weU ! it was a. 
stolen marriage, ftr from her towtv— 
Weill -ndtnesses unknown to her^^^ 
we&! proo& eaafly seenred to my 
poeBeBBton,->*«KoeUaBtl the fool shall 
belie«« it a fcvged marriage, an in- 
genioQS gaUantiy ef mine; I wHI 
moAk eat the stain eackold with tha 
water ef aaether word ; I wiU maka 
nuficet ef amiistreBS, nota i0i|^e. I 
wHl warn him not to acqoaait iWr 
with this secret; let me consider te* 
what veaseny-^eh ! my sen's i«glti*» 
maey mtty be convenient to me here- 
after. Be win anderstand that Ma- 
son, aBd I wiU hanre bos '>hoBo«r' 
thewoa. Aad by the way, I do eavs 
fer tiiat kgitima^, aad wiQ gand 
the preofe ; I love my child,-«*«mbi' 
tieoB men do lore the& cMkken; L 
may become a lord mys^, and may 
wish for a lord to saeceed me ; and 
that SMI «» mine; thaak Heav«nl I 
am SBEte on tint potnt^o-^the <»|y 
child, too, that ever shall arise to me. 
Never, I swear, will I again pat my- 
sdf beyond my own power 1 JUI 
asy nati»e, save one passion, I have 
ytherto mastered; tint paaucm shatt 
hencefcith be my skve, my only 
thes^ht beaittbitien,my only nuistresB 
hetiMweskir 

As tiias tenahiated the revwy of a 
maa whom the social dnrnmstaneeB 
eftheworid were calcnhrted, asif ^ 
ii(ystMS,to reader emkientfyand basely 
wicked^ WeUbrd slowly aseenctod the 
stairs, and reentered his i^Munber: hia 
wife was still rieeping; her beauty waa 
of the £ur, and girlish, aad hagnno»< 
ised order, which lovers aad poeCi 
a 2 



Si4 



PAUL CLIFFORD; 



would express by the word " angeiie;" 
and as Welford looked upon her hce, 
hushed and almost hallowed by slum- 
ber, acertain weakness and irresolation 
might. have been discernible in the 
strong lines of his haughty features. 
At tluit moment, as if for erer to de- 
stroy the return of hope or rirtue to 
either, her lips moved, they uttered 
one word, — ^it was the name of Wei- 
ford's courtly guest. 

About three weeks fh>m that even- 
ing, Mrs. Welford eloped with the 
young nobleman, and on the morning 
following that event, the distracted 
husband with his child disappeared 
for ever from the town of * * * *. 
From that day no tidings whatsoever 
respecting him ever reached the titil- 
lated ears of his anxious neighbours; 
and doubt, curiosity, discussion, gra- 
dually settled intO'Uie belief that his 
despair had hurried him into suicide. 
• Although the unfortunate Mrs. Wel- 
ford was in reality of a light and frivo- 
lous turn, and, above all, susceptible 
to personal vanity, she was not without 
ardent aflfections and keen sensibilities. 
Her marriage had been one of love, 
that is to say, on her part, the ordinary 
love. of girls, who love. not through 
actual and natural feeling so much as 
forced predisposition. Her choice had 
fidlen on one superior to herself in 
birth, and far above all, in person and 
address, whom she had habitually 
met Thus her vanity had assisted her 
affection, and something strange and 
eccentric in the temper and mind of 
Welford had, though attimesit aroused 
her fear, greatly contributed to inflame 
her imagination. Then, too, though 
an. uncourtly, he had been a passionate 
and a romantic lover. . She was sensi- 
ble that he gave up for her much that 
he had previously conceived necessary 
to his existence ; and she stopped not 
to inquire how far this devotion was 
likely to hist, or what conduct on her 
part might best perpetuate the feelings 
from which it sprung. She had eloped 



with him. She had consented to a 
private marriage. She had passed 
one happy month, and then delusi<m. 
vanished 1 Mrs. Welford was not a 
woman who could give to reality, or 
find in it, the charm equal to delusion. 
She was perfectly unable to compre- 
hend the intricate and dangerous cha- 
racter of her husband. She had not 
the key to his virtues, nor the spell 
for his vices. Neither was the state 
to which poverty compelled them one 
well calciUated for that tender medi- 
tation, heightened by absence, and 
cherished in indolence, which so often 
supplies one who loves with the secret 
to the nature of the one beloved. 
Though not equal to her husband in 
birth or early prospects, Mrs. Welford 
had been accustomed to certain com- 
forts, often more felt by those who 
beloog to the inferior classes than by 
those appertaining to the more ele- 
vated, who, in losing one luxury, will 
often cheerfully surrender all. A fine 
lady can submit to more hardshipa 
than her woman ; and every gentleman 
who travels, smiles at the privations 
which agonise his valet Poverty and 
its grim comrades made way for a 
whole host of petty irritations and 
peevish complaints ; and as no guest 
or visitor ever relieved the domestic 
discontent, or broke on the domestic 
bickering, they generally ended in 
that moody sullenness which so often 
finds love a grave in repentance. 
Nothing makes people tire of each 
other like a fiuniliarity that admits of 
carelessness in quarrelling and coarse- 
ness in complaiiUng. The biting sneer 
of Welford gave acrimony to the mur- 
mur of his wife ; and when once each 
conceived the other the injurer, or 
him or herself the wronged, it was 
vain to hope that one would be more 
wary, or the other more indulgent. 
They both exacted too much, and the 
wife in especial conceded too little. 
Mrs. Welford was altogether and em- 
phatically what a libertine calls '* a 



PAUL CLIFFORD, 



245 



woman," — 9uck as a frivdous educor 
turn makes a ti'omany— generous in 
great things, petty in small; vain, 
irritable, full of the littleness of herself 
and her complaints, ready to plunge 
into an abyss with her lover, but 
equally ready to fret away ail love with 
reproaches when the<plunge had been 
made. Of all men, Welford could bear 
this the least A woman of a hurger 
heart, a more settled experience, and 
an intellect capable of appreciating his 
character, and sounding all his quali- 
ties, might have made him perhaps an 
useful and a great man ; and, at least;, 
Aer lover for life. Amidst a harvest of 
evil feelings, the mere strength of his 
nature rendered him especially capa- 
ble of intense feeling and generous emo- 
tion. One who relied on him was safe, — 
one who rebelled against him trusted 
only to the caprice of his scorn. Still, 
however, for two years, love, though 
weakening with each hour, fought on 
in either breast, and could scarcely be 
said to be entirely vanquished in the 
iffifs, even when she eloped with her 
htoidsome seducer. A French writer 
has said, pithily enough, " Compare 
ibr a moment the apathy of a husband 
with the attention, the gallantry, the 
adoration of a lover, and can you ask 
the result 1 " He was a French Writer ; 
but Mrs. Welford had in her temper 
much of the Frenchwoman. A suf- 
fering patient, young, handsome, well 
versed in the arts of intrigue, con- 
trasted with a gloomy husband whom 
she had never comprehended, long 
feared, and had lately doubted if she 
disliked; — ah! a much weaker con- 
trast has made many a much better 
woman food for the lawyers ! Mrs. 
Welford elopied ; but she felt a revived 
tenderness for her husband on the very 
morning that she did so. She carried 
away with her his letters of love as 
well as her own, which when they first 
married she had in an hourof fondness 
collected together -^ then an inesti- 
mable hoard! and never did her new 



lover receive from her beautiful lips 
half s6 passionate a kiss as she left on 
the cheek of her infant. For some 
months she enjoyed with her paramour 
all for which she had sighed in het 
home. The one for whom she had 
forsaken her legitimate ties was a 
person so habitually cheerful, cour- 
teous, and what is ordinarily termed 
good-natured (though he had in him 
as much of the essence of selfishness 
as any nobleman can decently have), 
that he continued gallant to her with- 
out an efibrt long after he had begun 
to think it possible to tire even of so 
lovely a face. Yet there were moments 
when the fickle wife recalled her hus- 
band with regret; and, contrasting 
him with her seducer, did not find all 
the colourings of the contrast flattering 
to the latter. There is something in 
a powerful and marked character 
which women, and all weak natures, 
feel themselves constrained to respect; 
and Welford's character thus stood 
in bold, and therefore advantageous 
though gloomy, relief when opposed 
to the levities and foibles of this guilty 
woman's present adorer. However 
thifi be, the die was cast ; and it would 
have been policy for the lady to have 
made the best of her present game. 
But she who had murmured as a wife 
was not complaisant as & mistress. 
Beproaches made an interlude to 
caresses, which the noble lover by no 
means admired. He was not a man 
to retort, he was too indolent ; but 
neither was he one to forbear. "My 
charming friend," said he one day^' 
after a scene, " you weary of me, — 
nothing more natural ! Why torment 
each other 1 You say I have ruined 
you ; my sweet friend, let me make 
you reparation — become independent ; 
I will settle an annuity upon you ; fly 
me — seek happiness elsewhere, and 
leave your unfortunate, your despair- 
ing lover to his fete." 

"Do you taunt me, ifly lordl" 
cried the angry fair; "or do you 



^^ 



PAUL OUFFOSa 



|isiieT«. thftt iQonegr oin wplace tlw 
ligkU of which yoa havo robbed ntfif 
Gaa yoa make me again a inf(»*-a 
bappy, a respected wi£9? Do thia» 
my lord, and yoa atone to me t ** 

The nobleman amiled, and shrogged 
hia flhonldeia The lady yet nu>re 
angrily repeated her question. The 
loTor aoBwered by an inuendo, which 
at onee astonished and doubly enraged 
her. She eagerly demanded ezpUr 
naMon; and his lordship, who had 
gone fiurther than he intended, left 
the room. But his words had sunk 
deep into the breast of this unhappy 
woman, and she resolyed to procure 
an elucidation^ Agreeably to the 
policy which stripped the &bled tra- 
yeller of Ids cloak, she laid aaide the 
storm» and preferred the sunshine 
she watched a moment of tendemesc^ 
turned the oi^ortumty to advantage, 
and, by littU) and little, she possessed 
.'herself of a secret which sickened her 
with dume, disgust, and dismay. 
Sold! bartered! the object of a con* 
temptuous huztering to the purchaser 
and the seller; sold, too, irUh a. lie 
that debased her at once into an object 
for whom even pily was mixed wiUi 
8<K>m. Kobbed already of the name 
and honour of a wi£e^ and transferred 
a« a harlot, fifom the wearied arma of 
one leman to the capricious caresses 
of another. Such was the image that 
rose before her; and, while it roused 
9i QDQ moment aU her fiercer passions 
into m adn e sa^ humbled, with the next> 
har vanity into the dust She, who 
knew the ruling passion of Welford, 
saw, at a glance, the object of scorn 
and derision which she had become to 
him. Whileshe imagined herself the 
betrayer, she had been the betrayed ; 
.she saw vividly before her (and skndr 
dered as she saw) her husband's icy 
amile — his serpent eye — his features 
steeped in sarcasm, and all hia mock- 
ing soul stamped upon the counte- 
•nanee^ whose lightest derision waa so 
galling. She tunied from this picture, 



and saw Uia couitly feoe of the pwr 
chaaN>-hia subdued smU# at hec 
reproaches, his latent sneer at hmc 
claims to a station which he had beea 
taoght, by the arch- plotter, to beUnro 
she had never posaassed. She sawhi^ 
early weannesa of bar attnettona^ 
expressed with reqpeet indeed-— an 
insulting reepect/^^but felt without a 
scruple of remorse. She sawin either 
----as aroondr-^nly a reciproeation ai 
contempt. She was ina web of pvo- 
lound abaaemenl Ihren that haughty 
grief of consdenoa for erime eommitt 
ted to another, whkh if it stingf^ 
humbles not^ waa swallowed up in a 
&r more agonisiog sensation, to one 
so vain astheaduUereaa--the buzninif 
sense of shame at having herself whild 
sinning, been the duped and deceived* 
Her very soul waa appalled with her 
humiliation. The curse of Welfoxd'a 
rengeance waa on her-«and it was 
wreaked to the htftl Whatever kindly 
sentiment she mi^t hwve experienced 
towards her protector, was swallowed 
up at onee by this diseovery. She 
could not endure the thought of meet- 
ing the eye of one who had been the 
gainer by this ignominious barter, 
tiie foibles and weiJpieBsee of the lovec 
assumed a despicable as well aa hate- 
ful dye. And in feeling hwat^ 
degraded, she loathed Mm, The day 
after she had made the discovery usa 
have referred to, Mnu Welford left th« 
house of her protector, none knew 
whither. ¥or twa years from that 
date, all trace of her history waa lost. 
At the end of that time, what Mm 
Welford ^A man rapidly rising in. 
the world, distinguished at the bar^ 
where hia first bri^ had lifted him 
into notice^ commencing a flattering 
career in the senate, holding Inorative 
and honourable offices, esteemed foi! 
the austere rectitude of his moral oh»* 
raoter, gathering the golden opiniena 
of all men, as he strode onward Uk 
public reputation. Hehadre-aasumed 
his hertditaiyname; his early hisiivir 



PAUL CLIFirOBD. 



M 



mui unknown; and no one in the 
bbficore and distant town of * * * * 
bad ever guotted that the humble 
Welford was the William Brandoin 
whose praise was echoed in so many 
journals^ and whose rising genius was 
acknowledged by all. That Bspeni^, 
•jonghnes8> and gloom which had 
noted him a,t * * * * and which, 
being natural to him^ he deigned not 
,to disguise in a station nngei^ to his 
talents and below his hopes, were now 
glitteringlj vaniished over by an 
hypocrisy well calcuUted to aid his 
ambition. So learnedly could this 
singular man fit himself to others^ 
that few among the great met him as 
a companion, nor left him without the 
temper to become his Mend Through 
ius noble rivals that is (to make our 
reader's "surety doubly sure") through 
Jjord Mauleverer, he had acquired hjs 
first lucrative office^ a certiun patr(m,r 
age from government, and Ms seat 
in parliament. If he had persevered 
at the bar, rather than given himself 
entirely to state intrigneSy it was only 
because his talents were eminently 
more calculated to advance him in the 
former path to honour, than in the 
latter. So devoted was he become to 
public life, that he had only permitted 
himself to cherish one private source 
of enjoyment, — ^his son. As no one, 
not even his brother, knew he had 
been married-— (during the two years 
of his diBguised name, he had been 
supposed abroad,) — the appearance of 
tlds son made the only piece of scan* 
dal whispered against tiie rigid mo- 
xalifyofhia&ir&me; but he himself, 
waiting his own time for avowing a 
legitimate heir, gave out that it was 
the orphan child of a dear friend whom 
he had known abroad ; and the puii- 
tan demureness not only of life^ but 
manner, which he assumed, gained a 
pretty large belief to the statement. 
This son Brandon idolised. As we 
harre represented himself to say^— 
ambitious men ace commonly fond of 



their children, beyond the fondness of 
other sires. The perpetual refu»noe 
which the ambitious make to posta- 
rity, is perhaps the main reason. Bat 
Bnmdon was also fond of children 
generally; philoprogenitivenesswafta 
marked trait in hUi character, and 
would seem to belie the hardness and 
artifioe belonging to that character, 
were not the same love so frequently 
noticeable in the harsh and the art!- 
ficiaL It seems as if a half-conscious 
but pleasing feeling, that they too were 
once gentle and innocent^ makes 
them delight in reviving any eymr 
pathy with their early stateu 

Often after the applause and labour 
of the day, Brandon would repair to 
his son's chamber, and watch his 
slumber for hours; often before his 
morning toil eommenoed, he would 
nurse the infimt in his arms with all a 
woman's natural tenderness and gnsh«> 
ing joy. And oftoi, as a graver and 
more characteiistic sentiment stele 
over him, he would mentally sayi— < 
** Yon shill build up our brokenname 
on& better foundation than your sire. 
I begin too late in life, and I labour up 
a pa^nl and. stony road ; but I shall 
make the journey to Pame smooth 
and aocessible for you. Never, too^ 
while y<m aspire to honour, shall you 
steel your heart to tranquillity. For 
you, my child, duill be the joys of 
home and love, and a mind that does 
not sicken at the pasty and stdcain» 
through mere fretfolnessi towards a 
solitary and barren distinction for the 
future. Not only what your fitther 
gains you shall ei^oyi but what has 
cursed him, his vigilance shall lead 
you to shun 1 " 

It was thus not only that his softer 
feelings, but all the better and nobler 
ones, whlch^ even in the worst and 
hardest bosom« find some root» turned 
towards his child; and that the hol- 
low and vidous man promised to be* 
come the affectionate and perhaps tht 
wise panent. 



218 



PAUL CLIPFOBD. 



One night, Bnndon was returning 
home, on foot, from a minlBteiial 
dinner. The night was frosty and dear, 
the hour was hAe, and his way lay 
through the longest and best-lighted 
streets of the metropolis. He was, as 
nsoaly buried in thought, when he was 
snddenly aroused from his rerery by a 
light touch laid on his arm. Hetumedf 
and saw one of the unhappy persons 
who haunt the midnight streets of 
dties, standing right before his path. 
The gaze of each fell upon the other ; 
and it was thus, for the first time 
once they laid their heads on the 
same pillow, -that the husband met 
the wife. The skies were intensely 
clear, and the himplight was bright 
and calm upon the &ees of both. 
There was no doubt in the mind 
of either. Suddenly, and with a 
startled and ghastly consciousness, 
they recognised each other. The 
wife staggered, and clung to a post 
for support: Brandon's look was 
calm and unmoved. The hour that 
his bitter and malignant spirit had 
yearned for was come: his nerves 
expanded in a voluptuous calmness, 
as if to give him a deliberate enjoy- 
ment of his hope fulfilled. Whatever 
the words that, in that unwitnessed 
and almost awful interview, passed 
between them, we may be sure that 
Brandon spared not one atom of his 
X>ower. The lost and abandoned wife 
returned home, and all her nature, 
embmted as it had become by guilt 
and vile habits, hardened into re- 
venge, — that preternatural feeling 
which may be termed the hope of 
despair. 

Three nights from that meeting, 
Brandon'shousewasbrokeninto. Like 
the houses of many legal men, it lay 
in a dangerous and thinly-populated 
outskirt of the town, and was easily 
accessible to robbery. He was 
awakened by a noise: he started, and 
found himself in the grasp of two 
men. At the foot of the bed stood a 



female, raising a light, and her fiice, 
haggard with searing passions, and 
ghastly with the leprous whiteness of 
disease and approaching death, glared 
friU upon him. 

"It is now my turn," said the 
female, with a grin of scorn which 
Brandon himself might have envied; 
"you have cursed me, and I return 
the curse ! You have told me that my 
child shall never name me but to 
blush. Fool ! I triumph over you : 
you he shall never know to his dying 
day ! Ton have told me, that to my 
child and my child's child (a long 
transmission of execration), my name 
—the name of the wife you basely 
sold to ruin and to hell, should be 
left as a legacy of odium and shame ! 
Man, you shall teach that child no 
farther lesson whatever: you shall 
know not whether he live or die, or 
have children to carry on your boasted 
race ; or whether, if he have, those 
children be not outcasts of the earth 
—the accursed of man and God — the 
fit offi^pring of the thing you have 
made me. Wretch ! I hurl back on 
you the denunciation with which, 
when we met three nights since, you 
would have crushed the victim of yonr 
own perfidy. You shall tread the 
path of your ambition childless, and 
objectleRS, and hopeless. Disease shall 
set her stamp upon your frame. The 
worm shall batten upon your heart. 
You shall have honours and enjoy 
them not : you shall gain your ambi- 
tion, and despair : you shall pine for 
your son, and find him not ; or, if you 
find him, you shall curse the hour in 
which he was bom. Mark me, man 
— I am dying while I speak — ^I know 
that I am a prophet in my curse. 
From this hour I am avenged, and you 
are my scorn ! " 

As the hardest natures sink appalled 
before the stony eye of the maniac, so, 
in the dead of the night, pinioned by 
ruffians, the wild and solemn voice 
(sharpened by passion and partial 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



249 



madness) of the ghastly figoie before 
him curdUng through his yemB, eyen 
the haughty and dating character of 
William Brandon quailed 1 He uttered 
not a word. He was found the next 
morning, bound by strong cords toliis 
bed. He spoke not when he was 
released, but went in silence to his 
child's chamber: — the child was 
gone! Seyeral articles of property 
were also stolen : the desperate tools 
the mother had employed worked not 
perhaps without their own reward. 

We need scarcely add, that Brandon 
set every engine and channel of justice 



in motion for the discoTery of his son. 
All the especial shrewdness and keen- 
ness of his own character, aided by 
his professional experience, he em- 
ployed for years in the same pursuit. 
Eyeiy research was wholly in yain : 
not the remotest yestige towards 
discoyery could be traced, until were 
found (we haye recorded when) some 
of the articles that had been stolen. 
Fate treasured in her gloomy womb, 
altogether undescried by man, the 
hour and the scene in which the most 
ardent wish of William Brandon was 
to be realised. 



CHAPTER XXXiy. 

« O Fortuna, Tirls invida fortibiu 
i^oMm Jum mqp^ bonis prcmia diTidli." 

« « « « « 

« And as a hxre, whom hounds and horns parsne^ 

PSats to the pUMW from whence at finfe he flew." 

« « « « « 

* Here, to the honaeleas child of want, 

My door is open stUL" * 

Goldsmith. 



Slowly for Lucy waned the weeks 
of a winter, which, to her, was the 
most dreary portion of life she had 
ever passed. It became the time for 
the judge to attend one of those 
periodical visitations so fraught with 
dread and dismay to the miserable 
inmates of the dark abodes which the 
complex laws of this country so 
bounteously supply— those times of 
great hilarity and eating to the legal 
^ntry, 

«< Who feed on crimes and fatten on distress, 
And wring vile mirth from suffering's last 



Ah 1 excellent order of the world, 
which it is so wicked to disturb! 
How miraculously beautiful must be 
that system which makes wine out of 
the scorching tears of guilt; and from 



the suffocating suspense, the agonised 
fear, the compelled and self-mocking 
bravery, the awful sentence, the 
despairing death-pang of one man, 
furnishes the smirking expectation of 
fees, the jovial meeting, and the 
mercenary holiday to anotiier ! " Of 
Law, nothing less can be said, than 
that her seat is the bosom of Gk)d."« 
To be sure not ; Richard Hooker, you 
are perfectly right. The divinity of 
a sessions, and the inspiration of the 
Old Bailey, are undeniable 1 

The care of Sir William Brandon 
had effectually kept firom Lucy's ear 
the knowledge of her lover's ignomi- 
nious situation. Indeed, in her deli- 
cate health, even the hard eye of 
Brandon, and the thoughtless glance 



* Hooker's EceUriatitcal Polit». 



wo 



PAUL OLIFFaKa 



of IfftoleTerer, pereeiTed the danger 
of mudi a diaooTwry. The earil now 
ipaltiiig the main abiaek on laegr, 
till the cttrtain had fbr «f«r dumped 
OOL Clifford, proceeded with great 
caniion and deUoaf^ in his smi te 
hia pnrpoaed bride. He wailed with 
the more patienoe^ Inaamseh as he 
had drawn in adTanee on hla friend 
Sir William for some portion oi^the 
heiress's fortane; and he readil^r 
allowed that he eonld not^ in the 
meanwhile, haye a better adTocate 
than, he found in Brandon* So per- 
snasiye, indeed, and so subtle was the 
eloquence of this able sophist, that 
often, in his artfdl conversations with 
his niece, he left even on the unvi- 
tiated, and strong though simple, 
mind of Lucy an uneasy and resUess 
impression, which time might haye 
ripened into an inclination towmrds 
the worldly adyantages of the mar- 
riage at her command. Brandon was 
no bungling mediator or violent per- 
secutor. He seemedto acquiesce in her 
rq'ection of Mauleverer. He scarcely 
recurred to the event. He rarely 
praised the earl himself, save for the 
obvioua qualities of Uveliness and 
good-nature* But he spoke, with all 
ike vivid colours he could infuse at 
will into his words, of the pleasures 
and the duties of rank and wealth. 
Well could he appeal alike to all the 
prejudices and all the foibles of the 
human breast, and govern virtue 
through its weaknesses. Lucy had 
been brought -op, like the. daugh- 
ters of most country gentlemen of 
•ancient &mily, in an undue and idle 
consciousness of superior birth; and 
she was far from inaccessible to the 
warmth and even feeling (for Aere 
Brandon was sincere) with which her 
uncle spoke of the duty of raising a 
gallant name sunk into disrepute, 
and sacrificing our own inclination, 
ibr the redecorating the mouldered 
splendour of those who have gone 
before u& If the oonfbsion of idea 



by » 

phrase, or the infint ineules^fion 
of ^sentiment that ia mistaken for a 
Ttrto^ so often makea foola of the 
W9fl6 en te- sniigeet of ancestry; if 
it doaded even the saraaatie and kesA 
sense of Brandon himaelf, we may 
fiffgive its iuflnenoe over a giil so 
tittle vened inthe avta of sound rea» 
Boning as poor Lo^, who, it may be 
said, hadnsver leaint to thmk until 
she had leamt to love. Howevrav the 
imptresaion mads by Bcandon, in hifl 
happieat moments of persnaaion, waa 
aa yet only traaaient; it vanished 
before the first thought of Clifford, 
and never suggested to her even a 
doubt as to the suit of Mauleverer. 

When the day arrived for Sir Wil- 
liam Brandon to set out on the 
circuity he called Barlow, and enjoined 
that aente and intelligent seivant 
the strictest eaution with respect to 
Lucy. He bade him deny her to ' 
every one^ of whatever rank, and care- 
fidly to look into every newspaper 
that was brought to her, as well as to 
withhold eveiy letter, save such as 
were addressed to her in the judge's 
own hand-writing. Lucy's nudd Bran- 
don had already won ever to sUenoe ; 
and the undenowpleaaed himself wiih 
thinking that he. had put an effectual 
guard to evexy chauioe of discovery. 
The identity of Lovett with Clifford 
had not yet even been mmoured^aiid 
Mauleveier had rightly judged of 
ClifSurd, when he believed the pri« 
Boner would himself take every pre- 
caution against the detection of that 
&ct. Clifford answesed the eari's note 
and promise, in a letter couched in 
BO affecting yet so manly a tone of 
gratitude, that even Brandon was 
touched when he read it. And since 
his confinement and partial recovery 
of health, the inisonto had kept him- 
self closely secluded, and reAised all 
visitors. Sncouraged by tiliis refleo- 
tik>n, aad the b^ef in the safety' of 
hia preeauti<Muf, Brandon took leave 



PAUL CIJFroBD^ 



m 



6fli8ey. ":Fte«weUl''Budlie,Mhe 
emtoieed her ftAetionately; ''Be 
Emre tliat yon mite to xne, and forgive 
ikte if I do not mswer yoo punctaally. 
VMce care of younelf, my sweet nieeoy 
■ad let me see a fresher cdonr on 
that soft cheek when I return !" 

<* Take care of yourself rather, my 
dear, dear mde/' said Lacy, eUnging 
to him and weeping, as of late her 
weakened nerres caused her to do at 
Itie least agitation. " Why may I not 
go with yon 1 Ton have seemed to 
Ine paler than nsoal the last theee 
or ibur days, and yon complained 
yesterday. Do let me go with you ; 
f will he no trouble, none at all ; bat 
I am sure yon require a nurse." 

"You want to fiighten me, my 
pvetty Luey," said Brandon, shaking 
Ms head with a smile. ** I am well, 
very well : I felt a strange rush of 
blood towards the head yesterday, it 
Is true ; but I feel to-(toy stronger and 
l^hter than I have done for years. 
Chaoe more, God bless you, my child!" 

And Brandon tore himself away> 
and commenced his journey. 

The wandering and dramatic ooune 
of our stoty now conducts us to an 
obscure lane in the metropolii^ lead' 
In^ to the Thames, and makes us speo- 
tators of an aflfocting fitrewell betweoi 
Iwo persons, whom the ii^}i»tiGe of 
ftte, and the persecutions of men, 
were about perhaps for ever to divide. 

^ Adieu, my friend t" said Augus- 
tas Tomlinson, as he stood looking 
fall on that segment of the Ikce of 
Ifidward Pepper which was left unoon- 
eealed by a huge hat and a red belcher 
handkerchief. Tomlinson himself 
was attired in the fa^ costume of 4 
dignified clergyman. '* Adieu, my 
^friend, since you tciU remain in Bn* 
gland,— adieu ! I am, I exult to say, 
no less sincere a patriot than you. 
Heaven be my witness, how long I 
looked repugnantly on poor Lovett's 
proposal to quit my beloved countzy. 
But all hope of life hve is now over; 



and really, during the last ten day% 
I have been so hunted from comer 
to comer, so plagued with poUie 
invitations, similar to those given by 
a fiumer's wi& to her ducks, ' Dilly, 
dilly, diUy, come Slid be killed r thai 
my patriotism has been prodigiously 
oooled, and I no longer recoil from 
thoughts of 8elM)ani8hment. ' The 
ear^' my dear Ked, as a Greek sago 
has very well observed,^-' the earth 
is the same every where 1' and if I 
am asked for my home^ I can pomt^ 
like Anazagoras, to heaven f" 

«'Pon my soul, you affect me I" 
said Ned, speaking thick, either from 
grief or the pressure of the belcher 
handkerchief on his mouth; ''it is 
qnite beaotifrd to hear you talk 1 " 

" Bear up,, my dear friend," ooBr 
tinned Tomlinson; ''bear up against 
your present afflictions. What, to a 
man who fortifies himself by reasMi 
and by reflection on the shortness 
of life, are Ihe little calamities of the 
body! What is imprisonment^ or 
pevseoution, or eold, or hunger W>By 
thfi by; you did not fox^t to put the 
sandwiches into my coat-pocket !" 

'<Hush!" whtspeied Ned, and he 
moved on involuntaril|p; ''I see, a 
man at the other end of the streoU" 

** Let us quicken our pace," said 
Tomlinson; and the pair proceeded 
towards the rivexv 

"And now,"bogsnKed, who thought 
he might as wdl say something about 
himse&, for hitherto Augustus, m 
the ardour of his firiendship, had been 
only diaonssinff his own plans; — 
" and now,-— that is to say, when I 
leave you,-*I shall hasten to dive for 
shelter,, until the storm blows over. 
I don't much like living in a cdhur 
and wearing a smock-frock,-^ but 
those concealments have somethingr 
interesting in them, after all ! The 
safest sad snuggest place I know of 
is the Pa^sJSas, about Thames Court; 
so I think of hiring an ^artmeni 
under groimd^ and taking ^7 vmJa 



»8 



PAUL CLIFFOBD. 



at poor Lofvtt'f oU qaniai^ the Mn^ 
-*-iiie poliee will nercr dram of look- 
ing in ihooe Tnlgv haimto fiir » man 
of m J ftahion.'' 

"Yon ennoi ihon tear yoonelf 
fimn Snglaadl" mid Tomlinson. 

'' No, hang ii! the feUowi are lo 
eoned nnmanlj on the other aide 
of the water. I hate their wine and 
thmr pariqf woo. Beaides, there ia 
no fun there." 

Tomlineon, who waa abaorhed in 
hia own thoag^tSy made no com- 
ment on hli hiead'fi excellent reaaona 
against trarel, and the pair now ap- 
proached the brink of the river. A 
twat waa in waiting to reoeire and 
eondnct to the tcmcI in which he 
had taken hia phoe for Calais, the 
illnatriona emigrant Bvt aa Tom- 
linson's eye fell aoddenly on the rade 
boatman and the little boat which 
were to bear him away from hia 
native hmd ; aa he glanced too, acrois 
the bine waten, which a brisk wind 
wildly agitated, and thought how 
much rougher it would be at sea^ 
where " his soul" invariably '< sick- 
ened at the hearing wave/' a whole 
tide of deep and sorrowful emotions 
mshed upon him. 

He turned away:— the spot on 
which he stood was a piece of ground 
to be let (as a board proclaimed) upon 
a building lease; below, descended 
the steps which were to conduct him 
to the boat; around, the desolate 
space allowed him to see in fiu: and 
broad extent the spires and domes, 
and chimneys of the great catj whose 
inhabitants he might never plunder 
more. As he looked and looked, the 
teaiB started to his eyes, andirith a 
gust of enthusiasm little consonant 
with his temperate and philosophi- 
cal character, he lifted his right 
hand from his black breeches-pockety 
and burst into the following fare- 
well to the metropolis of his native 
shores : — 
"FawweU, my beloved London, 



Where shall leferibda 
eitylikejonf Never, till now, did I 
fed how inexpreaaihly dear yon woe 
to BML Yon have been my fether* 
and mj brother, and mj nustrcfli^ 
and my taikr, and mj ahoemaker, 
and my hatter, and m j cook, and my 
wine-metdiant! You and I nerer 
miaonderatood eaeh other. I did not 
gmmUe when I aaw wtat fine hooaes 
good strong boxes yon gave to 
other men. No ! I ref oioed at their 
prosperity. I delighted to aee a rich 
man — ^my only dian^pointment was in 
stumbling on a poor one. Yon gave 
riches to my nei^^ibonrs ; bnt^ O gene- 
rous London, yon gave those neig^ 
hours to me ! Magnificent streetsy all 
Christian virtues abide within you! 
Charity is as common as smoke! 
Where, in what comer of the habitable 
world, shall I find human beings with 
BO many snperfloitieat Where shall 
I so easily decoy, from benevolent cre- 
dulity, those superfluities to myself! 
Heaven only knows, my dear, dear, 
darling London, what I lose in yon 1 
O public charities! — public insti- 
tntions 1 — banks that belie mathe- 
matical axioms and make lots out 
of nothing ! — ancient constitution 
always to be questioned ! — modem 
improvements that never answer ! — 
speculations! — companies! — 
usury laws which g^uard against 
usurers, by making as many as possi- 
ble! — churches in which no one 
profits, save the parson, and the old 
women that let pews of an evening ! 
—0 superb theatres, too small for 
parks, too enormous for houses, which 
exclude comedy and comfort^ and 
have a monopoly for performing 
nonsense gigantically ! — O houses of 
plaster built in a day! — O palaces 
four yards high, with a dome in the 
middle, meant to be invisible!* — ^0 



* We muflt not sappoae this apostrophe 
to be an anachronism I Tomlinsfm, of course, 
refers to some palace of Ms day ; one of the 
bozee^-ChtistniM hoaces— given to the King 



PAUL clippobd: 



5U» 



riiops vorUi thoneands, and shop- 
keepers not worth a Bhilling! — 
system of credit by which beggars are 
princes, and princes are beggars !— 
O imprisonment for debt, which lets 
the mare be stolen, and then locks up 
the bridle i shaipers, bubbles, 
senators, beaux, taverns, brothels, 
clubs, houses priyate and public ! — 
London, in a word, receiye my last 
adieu! Long may you flourish in 
peace and plenteousness I May your 
knaves be witty, and your fools be 
rich 1 May you alter only two things 
— your damnable tricks of transpor- 
tation and hanging 1 Those are your 
sole faults; but for those I would 
never desert you. — ^Adieu !" 

Here Tomlinson averted his head, 
and then hastily shaking the hand of 
Long Ned with a tremulous and 
warm grasp, he hurried down the 
stairs and entered the boat. Ned 
remained motionless for some mo- 
ments, following him with his eyes as 
he sat at the end of the boat, waving 
a white pocket handkerchief. At 
length, a line of barges snatched him 
from the sight of the lingerer, and 
Ned slowly turmng away, muttered— 
" Yes, I have always heard that Dame 
Lobkins's was the safest asylum for 
misfortune like mine. I will go forth- 
with in search of a lodging, and to- 
morrow I will make my breakfast at 
the Mug i*' 

Be it our pleasing task, dear 
reader, to foresail the good robber, 
and return, at the hour of sunrise on 
the day following Tomlinson's de- 
parture, to the scene at which our 
story commenced. We are now once 
more at the house of Mrs. Margeiy 
Lobkins. 



by his eoonomloal nation of ahopkeepera. 
We Buppose it is either pnUed down or blown 
down long ago : it is doubtless forgotten by 
this time» except by antiquaries. Nothing 
Is so ephemeral as great houses built by the 
people. Your kings play the deuce with 
their playthings! 



The room which served so many 
purposes was still the same as whea 
Paul turned it into the arena of hia 
mischievous pranks. . The dresser^ 
with its shelves of mingled delf and 
pewter, occupied its ancient and im- 
portant station. Only It might be 
noticed that the pewter was more 
dull than of yore, and that sundry 
cracks made their erratic wanderings 
over the yellow sur&ce of the dd£. 
The eye of the mistress had become 
less keen than heretofore, and the 
care of the handmaid had, of necessity, 
relaxed. The tall clock still ticked 
in monotonous warning ; the blanket- 
skreen, haply innocent of soap since 
we last described it, many-storied, 
and poly-balladed, still unfolded ita 
ample leaves "rich with the spoils of 
time." The spit and the mu^et yet 
hung from the wall in amicable proz- 
imation. > And the long smooth form, 
" with many a holy text thereon be- 
streum," still aflforded rest to the 
weary traveller, and an object to the 
vacant stare of Mrs. Margery Lobkins, 
as. she lolled in her opposite seat and 
forgot the world. But poor Piggy 
Lobb! ti^«re was the alteration 1 The 
soul of the woman was gone I The 
spirit had evaporated from the humaa 
bottle I She sat with open mouth 
and glassy eye in her chair, sidling 
hersdf to and fro, with the low, 
peevish sound of fretfrd age and bodily 
pain; sometimes this querulous mur- 
mur sharpened into a shrill but un- 
meaning scold. "There now, you 
gallows bird! you has taken the 
swipes without chalking ; yoa wants 
to cheat the poor widow : but I sees 
you, I does ! Plrovidence protects the 
aged and the innocent — oh, ohl 
these twinges will be the death o' me 1 
Where's Martha? You jade, you! 
you wiperous hussey, bring the tape 
here : doesn't you see how I sufiers 1 
Has yoa no bowels, to let a poor 
Christin eretnr perish for want o' 
helpj That's the way with 'em, that's 



954 



VJkJXL OLIFFOdUX 



liie tray ! Ko 9M aaem fixr I hott— 
ao one Iibb mpeet tor ilie gngr 'Mn 
«r the oldr And then Ihe voiee 
dwindled into the wlUmperiag "ttMT 
ef its way." Matih^ « ttnppiBg 
French with red hair ttntning ofer 
her "hHk ef snow^" mM sot^ hav- 
ener, inattentfre to the waste of htt 
ndstreis. ''Who knows," said die to 
amanirho nt by the hearth, diink- 
ing tea out of a Mae miig, and toaattofg 
irtth great cne two or three hqge 
nmnda of bread, for MsowB private and 
eapedal mrtriment— "who knowa^* 
flttid she, ^what we vay eame to ofor* 
aehresr And, to aayiag, the jdaeed 
a glowing tumbler by her vn\itrmtt 
elbow. Bat in the sonken proatia- 
tion of her inteDeet, the old woman 
was inMurible Ofen toher eonedlatiaa : 
she sipped and dnmk, it ia trae ; bot 
as if the stream wannad not the 
bemnnbed region throogh wUeh U 
passed, she oontiimed mnttfirlng In 
a crazed and gremiag "key, "U tUks 
yoargratitnde, yon sarpent! lAy doea 
not yon bring the tape, I teBs 
Am I of a age to diiaik wator like a 
CBS, you nasty thing ! Oh, to think 
as ever I should lire tobedsMffted I" 
Inattentive tothesem]ainB,wliieh 
iSbe felt nnreaaonaible, the beandng 
If artlia -now ^tted the room, to 
repair to her '^uppar hoaashoid" 
aToeatieas. The man at the heartii 
WM the only eoBi|Mmion left to the 
wklmr. Oaring at liar ftxr aaementy 
as she mt whiclng, with a rode oom- 
passion in hia eg«, and 8lo>iriy mmch- 
1b^ his toaat whleh he had mm 
buttered, and phwad in sdelf pkto 
OB the heb> mn psmm thoa sooth, 
ingly began :— . 

" Ah, Baue Lobkina, if so be as 
ow little Paol vaa a viA yoo^ it woald 
be a gafie^ eomfort to you in yonr 
lattorhendr 

The name of Paul made tiie .good 
troman- isdline bar head towards the 
speaker; a »ay of 
tbrongh her bod^dled btain. 



"Little Paul, eh, aital wheie k 
nnd? YM, I aay, my ben^oH 
AJaek ! he's g o n e h sft his poor old 
auae to Se like a eat in a ceUar. 
Oh, Dunmie^ nerar live to be old, 
man! Th^ leaves as to onraels, and 
than takes aw^ all the lush with 'em 1 
I has not a diop o' eomlort in the 
vanalwaridi* 

Dommia, who at this moment had 
hh oam laasonalbr soothing thedam^ 
and waa anxioaa to make tiie moat of 
tlse opportonity of a oomyeraation as 
anwitneaaed aa the pffaaent» replied 
tenderiy ; and with m ennning likely 
to proaaoto Ida end, vqpioached Paal 
biUiily for never hs^ng informed 
the dame of hia wheiaaboat and his 
pioeoediaga. " Bnt oomsi, dame," he 
woand np, "eome, I gaeas aa haw 
he » baiter nor all that^ and that yon 
need not beat year hold bains to 
thUk wJMia he Ues^ or vot he's a 
doing* Blow me U^tiL, mother Lob, 
-^I ax pardon, Un^Mugesry, I should 
81^,— 4f I vofild not give fire bob, ay« 
and five to the tail o' that;, to know 
whait the poor kd is about; I takea» 
mortal hinteaest in that 'ere chap I " 

"Oh { oh r gioaaed the oU woman, 
on whoaepakoed sense the astuto in^ 
qoiries ^ I>ammie Dannaker fell 
hannleaa; ^n(y pow sinfol caxcaaal 
what a way it be in r 

Artlblly again did Dosamie Ihm- 
naker, nothing defeated, renew hia 
atteftk; but fortane does not always 
&voHr the wise, and it fiuled Dummia 
now, ioT a twofold reason : fin^ be- 
caase it was not possible for the dama 
to comprehend him; secondly, becanaa 
even if it had been, she had nothinip. 
to reveal. /8(ofne<^ Cliff(»rd'8 pecnniaiy 
gifts had been conveyed anonymoaaly^ 
dU without direction or date; and* 
for the most part they had beea 
appvopriatod by the sage ICartha, into 
whoee hands they feU, to her own pri-* 
vate uses. Kor did the dame r eq u ir e 
Cfifford's^xatefiil charily ; for she -waa 
a woman tolerably weU off in tlii» 



PAUL CLIFPOBD. 



m 



.world, boiuddflriiig hmr nwr ahe mus 
waziiig to another. Longer, kowever, 
might iDommie hsvo tried hk nn- 
«v»iling waj, had not the door of the 
inn creaked on Us hinges^ and the 
Indky form of a tail man in a imock- 
froek, but with a remavkably fine 
head of hair, darkened the threshold. 
He honoured the dame, who east on 
him. a Uwk4iitiie eye, with a sulky, 
yet amhvosial nod, aeiied a bottle of 
spirits and % tnmblBr, lighted a oukdle, 
inw « small Qorman pipe and a 
tdbaoco-box firam his pon^, placed 
these seveial Iwraries on a small table, 
wheeled it to a fur eomer of the room, 
snd throwing JiimMlf into one chair, 
and his legs into another, he enj<7ed 
the result <^ hte pains ina moody and 
flnpereUioiis silenee. Long and ea^ 
neatly did the meek Dommie gaze on 
the £ice of the gentleman before him. 
It had been sqbm yean since he had 
hurt beheld it; but it was one which 
did not easily eseape the memovy; 
and although its proprietor was a 
man who had risen in the world, and 
gained the height of his profieBsion 
(a station finr b^ond the 4iiinial 
qihere of Dmnmie Dumakei), and 
the hamble pmloiner was, thereioie, 
astonished to eneoantv him in these 
lower v^ons ; yet Dammle^s reeoUee- 
tioB eairiedinm back to a day when 
thc7 had gone shana together without 
respect of peraons, and been riff^t 
jol^ partnsain the practical game of 
beggar my neighbonr. While, how- 
ever, Dnmmie Bonnaker, who was a 
little inclined to be shy, deUbeiated 
as to tiie pn^niety of chdmlqg ae- 
qoasntancedrip, a dfarty boy, widi a 
ftce which betekcMd the frost, as 
I>Bainie kimself said, like a plom 
dyii^ of tiie scnrlei fef er, enteasd the 
room, with a newspaper in bis dexter 
paw. "Onat news^-gveat newsl" 
cried the nrddn, iiii^^-«*A^ big yod- 
ferons originals in the street; "^dl 
about the fiuaona Captain Lovett> as 
hffgeaslife!" 



^Old yoBr blaniiy, yon bbitte^ 
gowl ;** said Dnmmie, rebak2ng|iy,8nd 
seiKing the journal. 

" Master says as how he must have 
it to send to Clapham, and can't spare 
it for more than a 'oar V said the boy, 
as he withdrew. 

«/ Naembers thedi^,''8aidDummie» 
with tJie xeal of a olansman, "when 
the Mug took a paper all to itsel' in* 
stead of 'iring it by the job like r' 

Thereon he opened the paper with 
a fiBip, and gave himself up to the 
lecture. But the tall stianger, half 
rising with a starts ezdaimed, '' Can't 
you baye the manners to be com- 
munioatiye)— do you think nobody 
cases about Captain Lovett but your- 
selfr 

On this, Dnmmie tuned round on 
his chair, and, with a " blow me tight, 
you're Telcome, I'm sure;" began as 
follows :— (we copy the paper, not the 
diction of the reader.) 

" The trial of the notorious Lovett 
commences this dqr. Great exertions 
have been made by pei^le of all 
dasses to procure seats in the Town 
Hall, which wiU be full to a degree 
never befove known in this peaceful 
province. Ho less than seven indict- 
ments are said to await the priscnec; 
it has been agreed that the robbery 
of hotd ICaideverer should be the 
first to come oa. The principal wit- 
ness in this case against the prisoner 
is underatood tobe theking^s evidenos, 
Mac Crawler. No news, as yet, have 
been cinmlated coneeming the sus- 
peeted aocomphoes, Augustus Tom- 
linson and Edward Pepper. It is 
believed that the former has left the 
conntiy, and that the latter is lurkiag 
among the low refuses of gqilt with 
which the heart of the metropoUs 
abounds. Beport speaks high^ of 
the pemen and mamem of Lovett 
He ia also saf^tesed to be a njm of 
eome talent^ and was fennerly en- 
gaged in anobseare periodical, edited 
by Mac Giawlsr, and termed the 



tt6 



PAUL CUFPOBD. 



AltemeumyOr AmiuBiuii. KeyertheleM, 
we apprehend that his origin is re- 
marlubly low, and Boitable to. the 
sataie of iua pnnmits. The prisoner 
will be most fortnnate in a judge. 
If ever did any one holding the same 
high office as Sir William Brandon 
earn an equal reputation in so diort a 
time. The Whigs are accustomed to 
sneer at us, when we insist on the 
privaie Yirtues of our public men. 
Let them look to Sir William Bran- 
don, and confess that the austerest 
morals may be linked with the 
soundest knowledge and the most 
brilliant genius. The opening address 
of the learned judge to the jury 
at * * * * is perhaps the most im- 
preesiye and solemn piece of eloquence 
in the English language 1 " A cause 
for this eulogium might haply be 
found in another part of the paper, 
in which it, was said, ''Among the 
higher circles, we understand, the 
rumour has gone forth, that Sir Wil- 
liam Brandon is to be recalled to his 
old parliamentary career in a more 
elevated scene. So highly are this 
gentleman's talents respected by his 
K^iesty and the ministers, that they 
are, it is reported, anxious to secure 
his assistance in the House of Lords 1 " 

When Dummie had spelt his *' toil- 
some march " through tiie first of the 
above extracts, he turned round to 
the tall stranger, and eyeing him 
with a sort of winking significance, 
said, — 

"So Mac Grawler peaches! blows 
the gaff on his pals^ eh 1 Yel now, I 
always suspected that 'ere son of a 
gun 1 Do you know, he used to be 
at the Hug many's a day, a teaching 
our little Paul, and says I to Piggy 
Lobb, says I, 'Blow me tight, but 
that cove is. a queer one ! and if he 
does not come to be scragged,' says I, 
'it Till only be because hell turn a 
rusty, and scrag one of his pals ! ' So 
you sees — (here Dummie looked 
round, and his, voice sank into a 



whisper)— so you »oeB,MeetierPipper, 
I vas no fool there I " 

Long Ked dropped his pipe, and 
said sourly, and with a suspicious 
firown, " What I you know mel" 

" To be sure and sartain I does," 
answered little Dummie, walking to 
the table where the robber sat "Does 
not you know I r 

Ked regarded the interrogator with 
a sullen glance, which gradually 
brightened into knowledge. " Ah I" 
said he, with the air of a Brommel, 
" Mr. Bummie, or Dummie, I think, 
eh! Shake a paw— I'm glad to see 
you. — ^Becollect the last time I saw 
you, you rather affronted me. Never 
mind. I dare say you did not mean 
it." Encouraged by this a&ble re- 
ception fiK>m the highwayman, though 
a little embarrassed by Ned's allusion 
to former conduct on his part, which 
he felt was just, Dummie grinned, 
pushed a stool near Ned, sat himself 
down, and carefully avoiding any im- 
mediate answer to Ned's complaint^ 
he rejoined : — 

"Do you know, Heester Pepper, 
you struck I all of a heap. I could 
not have sposed as how you'd conde- 
scend nowadays to come to the Mug, 
vhere I never seed you but onoe 
afore. Lord love ye, they says as 
'ow you go to aU the fine places in 
ruffles with a pair of silver pops im 
your vaistcoat pocket ! Yy, the boys 
hereabouts say that you and Meester 
Tomlinson, and this 'ere poor devil in 
quod, vere the finest gemmen in town ; 
and. Lord, for to think of your dwility 
to a pitiful rag-merchant^ like I !" 

"Ah!" said Ned, gravely, "there 
are sad principles t^oat now. They 
want to do away with all disUnctions 
in ranks, — ^to make a duke no better 
than his valet^ and a gentleman higli- 
wayman dass with a filcher of fogies.* 
But, dammee, if I don't think mis- 
fortune levels us all quite enough: 



♦ Flckpodcet. 



PAUL CLIFFOBD. 



267 



and misfortune brings me here, little 
Dummie I" 

" Ah ! yon vants to keep ont of the 
vayofthebulkiesr 

"Right. Since poor Lovett was 
laid by the heels, which I. mpst say 
was the &nlt of his own denced gentle- 
manlike behavionr to me and Augus- 
tus (you Ve heard of Guz, you say), 
the knot of us seems quite broken. 
One's own friends look inclined to 
play one fiilse ; and really, the queer 
cuffins hover so sharply upon us, that 
I thought it safe to duck for a time. 
So I have taken a lodging in a cellar, 
and I intend for the next three months 
to board at the Mug. I haye heard 
that I may be sure of lying snug here ; 
— Dummie, your health! Giye us 
the baccy ! " 

" I say, Meester Pepper,** said Dum- 
mie, clearing his throat, when he had 
obeyed the request, "can you tell I, 
if so be you as met in your travels 
our little Paul] Poor chap I You 
knows as ow and vy he vas sent to 
quod by Justice Bumflat. Vel, ven 
he got out, he vent to the devil, or 
summut like it, and ve have not eard 
a vord of him since. You 'members 
the lad — a 'nation fine cull, tall and 
straight as a harrow 1 " 

" Why, you fool," said Ned, " don't 
you know," — then checking himself 
suddenly, — "ah I by the by, that 
rigmarole oath I — I was not to tell ; 
though ]]LOW it's past caring for, I 
fear ! It is no use looking after the 
seal when the letter 's burnt.'* 

"Blow me," cried Dunnaker, with 
unaffected vehemence, "I sees as 
how you know vot's come of he I 
Many's the good turn I'll do you, if 
you vill but tell I." 

" Why, does he owe you a dozen 
Icha : • or what, Dummie ] " said Ned. 

" Not he— not he," cried Dummie. 

" "What then, you want to do him a 
mischief of some sort 1" 



No. 37. 



* Shillings. 



"Do little Paul a mischief!" ejacu- 
lated Dummie ; " vy I 've known the 
cull ever since he was that high ! No, 
but I vants to do hiin a great sarvice« 
Meester Pepper, and myself too,— «nd 
yon to boot, for aught that I know, 
Meester Pepper." 

"Humph!" said Ned; "humph! 
what do you mean? I do, it is true, 
know where Paul is ; but you must 
tell me first why you wish to know, 
otherwise you may ask your grand- 
father for me." 

A long, sharp, wistful survey did 
Mr. Dummie Dimnaker cast around 
him before he rejoined. All seemed 
safe and convenient for confidential 
communication. The supine features 
of Mrs. Lobkins were hushed in a 
drowsy stupor : even the grey cat that 
lay by the fire was curled in the em- 
brace of Morpheus. Nevertheless, it 
was in a close whisper that Dummie 
spoke. 

" I dares be bound, Meester Pepper, 
that you 'members vel ven Harry 
Cook, the great highvayman, — poor 
fellow ! he's gone vhere ve must all go, 
— brought you, then quite a gossoon,* 
for the first time, to the little back 
parlour at the Cock and Hen, Dewe- 
reux Court." 

Ned nodded assent. 

" And you 'members as how I met 
Harry and you there, and I vos all 
afeard at you^-cause vyi I had never 
seen you afore, and ve vas a going to 
crack a swelVs crib.f And Harry 
spoke up for you, and said as ow, 
though you had just gone on the 



* The reader has probably obeerred the 
use made by Dummie and Mn. Lobkins of 
Irish phraseology or pronunciation. This 
is a remarkable trait in the dialect of the 
lowest orders in London, owing, we sup^ 
pose, to their constant association with 
emigrants from ''the first fiower of the 
earth." Perhaps i^is a modish alTeotation 
among the gentry of St. Giles's. Just as we 
eke out our mother-tongue with French aft 
Mayfalr. 

t Break into a gentleman's house. 

» 17 



PAIJli.eUF]rQBD. 



topn, ywi imM alueMr wamB 19 to 

<» Aj, I nanumbec aU," Mid liTed; 
<^ WW ifao finfc' ftad onljr ha>nM I 
«vier had a hand ia bnaking into. 
Hacxy waa a fitllow of low hiiiti^ m 
I dropped his acqimintaiwa, aad took 
aolfily to tha road, or a duyua in- 
gtaudty now and ihm, I htsm no 
ideflk of a gentlainaa tuauaig'eHioftfr 



'^ Yely 80 70a vent wik'VM,,9ad.yn 
Blipped you through a pana vol the 
Mtchaaiuidow*. Yen, Taa tha laast 
a£ iMy faig as yon be mow; and joa 
i«Bt nmikd^ and opened Uie^door lar 
ns; and Tea yea had opened the. 
doer; yoa saw aTOxoaa had joined aa, 
and joa were a fnnked then, and 
aftagred vithaat the crt&^to he^ vatoh 
ahile to yent Ul," 

''Well, wen," eiied STad, »what 
die devil baa all thia oigmasolagot to 
do with Paul r* 

" Now don't be gtiniflaghey» but 
bat let me go on amaek right aboaL 
VeU, yea yeoame oat» yoa minda as 
ow the yomaa had a bundle in her 
anas, and you spake to her; and she 
answered you roughly,, and left us all, 
and yent straight home; and ye yent 
and fenced the moagf that wery nighty 
and afterwards napped the regukaraJX 
And sure you made us laugh artily, 
Meester Pepper, when you said^ says 
you, 'That'ereyom«aifiai»mblow«a3' 
So she yas, Heester Pepper ! " 

" qiase me," said Ned, affectedly, 
'' and xnake haate ; you. keep meall in 
the dark.. By Uie way, I remember 
that you joked me about the bundle ; 
and when I asked what the woman 
had wrapped in it, you swore it was a 
ehild. Bather more likely that the 
girl, whoeyer she was, would hare left 
a child behind her than carried one 
off ! '' The. &ce of Dummie waxed big 
with consdouB Impoctanoe. 



* Borglnr. 

t Sold the booty. 



t Tookow 



** Yell now, yon. would nat belieye 
us; but it yas all true; that 'eia 
bundle was the yomaa's ddld, I spose 
an unnatural yon by the gemman: 
she lat ua into the onae on condition 
we helped her off with. it. And^ blow 
nw ti|j^ bat ya paid oozaelyes yel for 
oar taoahle. That 'en yoman was a 
Btraoga oretar; tiliey say- she had been 
a kttd^a blopen ;. bi^ howeomeyer, she 
waa aa. ot^aded and hodd as if she 
had been. There aaa hold Nick's hown 
row made on. the matter, and the 
reyird li»r oar (de)teotion yaa so great, 
that aa you. vaa not mach tried yet, 
Hany thought iibeet for to take yon 
yitkim down to.thecoantiy,. and told 
joa aa ow ityaa alia flam about, the 
ohUd in the bundle!" 

" Faith," said Ned, " I beUeyed 
him readily enoa^; and poor Harry 
waa twisted shoriJlj after, and I went 
into Ireland for safeigr,. where I stayed 
two yean^^— and deuced good claret I 
got there ! " 

** So, yhilea yea yas there," con- 
tinued Dummie,. " poor Ju<j^, the 
yoman, died,— she died in this weiy 
ouse, and left the horphan to the (af)- 
feotion of Piggy Lob, who was 'nation 
&nd of it w^y! Oh ! but I 'mem- 
bers yot a night.it yas yen poor Judy 
died; theyindyistled like mad, and 
the nin tumbled about as if it had 
got a holyday; and there the poor 
creature lay raying just orer ed of 
this room we sits in 1 Lano-arme, yot 
a sight it yaa i" 

Here Dummie paused, and seemed 
to recall in imagination the scene he 
had witnessed; but oyer the mind of 
Long Ned a ray of light broke alowljr. 
"Whewl" said he, lifting up hia 
fore-finger, " whew ! I smell a rat ; 
this stolen child, then, was no other 
than Paul But^ pray, to whom did 
the house belong ? for that tact Harry 
neyer communicated to me. I only 
heard the owner was a lawyer, or 
parson, or some swih Ihing.** 
" Vy now, 1 11 tell you, but don't be 



FAUIi.CflMFPOBD. 



gUm&udMT* So^ 70m Me> tmi Judy 
&d^ and Hanxma sengged, I tas 
the oailK YOB llTiagndio tu up t» the: 
8ecrel>; and Yhan Mother Lob yi& & 
takaog a drop to- oomlovfe' her^ i^imk 
Jmi^yenfe oi^.I h^finis-a.greftiboz: 
in which poor Jndy kept herdudB^and 
x»btietnqMi» andnare^ I.findaatthe 
bottom>>ol the boK havor b»: xiwny 
letten and. atch I£k%— linr I knflwas 
ow they vas thave^ sol vh^ tbaae. 
off and carries 'em om» with me, and 
Boonarter, Mother Lob sold me the 
box o' duds for two qntds — ^'cavae vy ] 
I yas a rag marchant! So now, I 
'solved, since the secret yas all in my 
hown keeping, to keep it as tight as 
Tinkey : for first, you sees as ow I yas 
afeard I should be hanged if I yent for 
to tell, — ^"cause yy ? I stole a yatch, 
and lots more, as yell as the hmrehm ; 
and next I yas afeard as ow the mother 
might comeiNMk.and haani ma the. 
saiaa as SaUihaiinted Yilly> fev H yas 
a orrid night yhen her smii took yin^. 
And hoyer and aboye thi», Meester- 
Pepper, I thought auDSLiit might turn 
hup by and by, in yhiob it yonid b& 
best for I to keep my hown counsel 
and nab the reyard, if I heyer durst 
make myself known.** 

Here Bummie psooeeded to namte* 
how frightened he had been lest Ned 
ahpvld ^moirerratt; iite»:(aB4tiMif 
bo remnftbered, Bq^doAnntd:Baid 
aJ^:the..b^giuttB9'0f.tliia :hi8tei7> h» 
eneomteedL^ tl^.: wwrlhgr ai: Buis 
LoUonate' hoaBe,*--hiyir tfak ftar had 
indneed hmto^tattii^ioBeppBrrthai 
fOoidaass and.mdiSBflflB^whii^ had so 
Muragied th»: haug^y highwagrmoi^ 
and hoivr great had bees his rdief aad 
delight aifindia^ thai Ned retaraad 
to the-Ma^no monk. He-next-pro^ 
oeedad to ial^na his saw confidast 
ol his maeting;with thar ftthar (the 
Eagaaiaoa reader kawaB whare and 
whea^^and of whaii»ok pku^ atthat 
ey^il Ha'SaidhoK^ la? hda -first (neg«K 
tiatbir with the ftthar; prudently 
reaohiBjgp. to eoounanicate drop by 



dropi Bueh ia£irowlaaB< as h«> pos- 
sessed^ he meiely^ basidM eoaibsBiBg 
to a share Ik the robimy, Matedthat 
he doafy he< knawi^tha hauss^ te to 
which thainfiuit had been oonsigBad, 
— and that,, if so, it ivas stifi •aiive'; 
bai that ha amdd iwiuire. Ho then 
relaied how thawiagntae ^Iher^ who 
saw that haagiBip Ihuaaiia £ftr tborob- 
bety of has< hanBo* m|g^ not- be half • 
BO likely a method to* recoyer his son 
aa^bribezy aad-oeoaifiaaioa, not: only 
fiwgayo him his fonaar. outrage^ hfk 
netted has appetHato the search by 
Tewardinghiitt for his disolosmpe. He 
than proceeded to state how, usable 
any where to find Paul, or any trace 
of him, he amused the sire from time 
to time with forged excuses; — ^how, 
at first, the sums he received made 
him by no means desirous to expedite 
a discovery that would terminate such 
satiftfartory reeei{>tB;-f-hQW at length 
th»magBitndaaf the praflbredrewwd, 
jmsed to the threats of the rare, had 
made him become seriously anxious 
to lean, the real &te and present 
'^wiherealPOai'' of Paul:— how, the 
last time he had seen the father, he 
had, by way of propitiation and first 
fruit, taken to Jiim aU the papers left 
by the nahappj mother and secreted 
by himself; and how he was now 
dafighted: to ftadthaV N«d:was ao- 
<}«iiaicd'witfa:<Pft«ifi|v8ddtes&^ Sinoe 
he* despaired of fitadlag I^mI bsrhia 
om ttKertions alone, he becaaie leas 
tanadoos d hla seerety and hi» bow 
pn^brcd Ned, ondibeovefyol Faal> 
fr'third of 'that reward thewholo'-of 
wiiich'ha had once hopedto engrofls. 

Ned^s eyes and moathopeaadat iMs 
pR^tositionL '^ Bat' the- name^*— the 
BaaM'o£tha«fiiJfeh«r1 yoa havo'iioiiold 
na> that yet t '* cried he impatiently. 

'«Noay noaraaadBiaBiBae^ardi^^ 
<' I doesnU tall yoo aU, tin you tens I 
soaumt. Yhere^'B little Ftail, J aay; 
aad vhara be ua to get at him % *^ 

Ned heaved a sigh, 

''As for the oath/ said ho, mas- 

8 2 



260 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



ingly, " it woQid be a sin to keep it, 
now that to break it can do him no 
hann, and may do him good ; espe- 
dally as, in case of imprisonment or 
death, the oath is not held to be 
binding: yet I fear it is too late for 
the reward. The iather will scarcely 
thank yon for finding his son! — 

Know, Dummie, that Paul is in 

gaol, and that he is one and the same 
person as Captain Lovett 1 " 

Astonishment never wrote in more 
legible characters than she now dis- 
played on the rongh features of Duin- 
mie Dunnaker. So strong are the 
sympathies of a profession compared 



with all others, that Dnmmie's first 
confused thought was thai of pnde, 
"The great Captain Loyett!" he 
faltered. "Little Paul at the top 
of the profession ! Lord, Lord ! — I 
always said as how he 'd the hambition 
to rise I" 
" Well, well, but the fiither's namel" 
At this question, the expression of 
Dummie's &ce fell, — a sudden horror 
struggled to his eyes — 






CHAPTER XXXy. 



*< VHxj l8 it that, at moments, there creeps orer ns an awe, a teiror, 
midefined ? MThy is it that we shudder without a causes and feel the 
stand stiU in its courses ? Are the dead too near ? "—Falkland, 



igbut 
life-blood 



** Ha ! sayest thou 7 Hideous thought, I feel it twine 
O'er my iced heart, as curls around hJs prey 
The sure and deadly serpent I 

« « . • « • 

« « « « « 

What ! in the hush and in the solitude 
Pass'd that dread soul away f"—Love and Haired, 



Ths eyening prior io that morning 
in which the abore conyersation oc- 
curred, Brandon passed alone in his 
lodging at * * * ♦. He had felt 
hixnself too unwell to attend the cus- 
tomary wassail, and he sat indolently 
musing in the solitude of the old- 
fashioned chamber to which he was 
consigned. There, two wax-candles 
on the smooth, quaint table, dimly 
struggled against the gloom of heavy 
panels, which were relieved at unfre- 
quent intervals by portraits in oaken 
frames, dingy, har^, and important 
with the pomp of laced garments and 
flowing wigs. The predilection of the 
landlady for modem tastes had, in- 
deed, on each side of the huge fire- 



place, suspended more novel master- 
pieces of the fine arts. In emblematic 
gorgeousness hung the pictures of the 
four Seasons, buxom wenches all, save 
Winter; who was' deformedly bodied 
forth in the' likeness of an aged carle. 
These were interspersed by an en- 
graving of Lord Mauleverer, the 
lieutenant of the neighbouring county, 
looking extremely miyestlcal in hia 
peer's robes; and by three typifica- 
tions of Faith, Hope, and Charity- 
ladies with whom it may be doubted 
if the gay earl ever before cultivated 
so close an intimacy. Curtains; of 
that antique chintz in which fiiscea 
of stripes are alternated by rows of 
flowers, filled the interstices of three 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



261 



windows ; a heayy sideboard occapied 
the greater portion of one side of the 
room; and on the opposite side, in 
the rear of Brandon, a vast screen 
stretched its slow length along, and 
relieyed the unpopulated and, as it 
were, desolate comfortoftheapartmeht. 

Pile and imperfectly streamed the 
light upon Brandon's fieuse, as he sat 
in his large chair, leaning his cheek 
on one hand, and gazing with the 
nnconJBcious earnestness of abstraction 
on the clear fire. At that moment a 
whole phalanx of gloomy thought was 
sweeping in successive' array across 
his mind. His early ambition, his 
ill-omened marriage, the causes of his 
after-rise in the wrong-judging world, 
the first dawn of his reputation, his 
rapid and flattering successes, his 
present eleyation, his aspiring hope of 
&r higher office, and more patrician 
honours — ^all these phantoms passed 
before him in chequered shadow and 
light : but ever Vith each stalked one 
disquieting and dark remembrance — 
the loss of his only son. 

Wearing his ambition with the wish 
to reviye the pride of his hereditary 
name, every acquisition of fortune or 
of fame rendered him yet more anx- 
ious to find the only one who could 
perpetuate these hollow distinctions 
to his race. 

"I shall recover him yet I" he 
broke out suddenly and aloud. As 
he spoke, a quick-^darting— spasmo- 
dic pain fan shivering through his 
whole frame, and then fixed for one 
instant on his heart with a gripe like 
the talons of a bird : it passed away, 
and was followed by a deadly sickness. 
Brandon rose, and filling himself a 
hirge tumbler of water, drank with 
avidity. The sickness passed off like 
the preceding pain ; but the sensation 
had of late been often felt by Brandon, 
and disregarded,^ — ^for few persons 
were less afflicted with the self-torture 
of hypochondria ; but now, that nighty 
whether it was more keen than uraal. 



or whether his thought had touched 
on the string that jars naturally on 
the most startling of human anticipa- 
tions, we know not, but, as he re- 
sumed his seat, the idea of his. 
approaching dissolution shot like an 
ice-bolt through his breast. 

So intent was this scheming man 
upon the living objects of the world, 
and so little were his thoughts accus- 
tomed to turn towards the ultin^te 
goal of all things, that this idea 
obtruding, itself abruptly upon him, 
startled him with a ghastly awe. He 
feU the colour rush from his cheek, 
and a tingling and involuntary pain 
ran wandering through the chaimels 
of his blood, even from the roots of 
the hair to the soles of his feet. But 
the stem soul of Brandon was not one 
which shadows could long affright. 
He nerved himself to meet the grim 
thought thus forced upon his mental 
eye, and he gazed on it with a steady 
and enduring look. 

"Well," thought he, "is my hour 
coming, or have I yet the ordinary 
term of mortal nature to expect 1 It 
is true, I have lately suffered these 
strange revulsions of the frame with 
somewhat of an alarming frequency : 
perhaps this medicine, which healed 
the anguish of one infirmity, has pro- 
duced another more immediately 
deadly 1 Yet why should I think this f 
My sleep is sound and calm, my 
habits temperate, my mind active and 
clear as in its best days. In my youth, 
I never played the traitor with my 
constitution ; why should it desert me 
at the very thi^old of my agel 
Nay, nay, these are but passing 
twitches, chills of the blood that 
begins to wax thin. Shall I learn to 
be less rigorous in my diet 1 Perhaps 
wine may reward my abstinence in 
avoiding it for my luxuries, by be- 
coming a cordial to my necessities 1 
Ay, I will consult—I will consult, I 
must not die yet. I have — ^let me see, 
three— four grades to gain before the 



202 



PAUL CUFVOBD. 



Mta ii a«fled. Aad, a3)Mi6 jfl, I 
OMitrMgid&iiqfidiydl lAfljauunied 
to MiniwriPffyMyidf &pMr,«i7«aii 
iraddodto--iiriM»iif PayCtodhfrbe 
Bit iBnniQd.:ah»id7l Jfy Aefikmn 
wd^ijdyiiMLJMUesl tdwlMMB^f 
Bnmdon nttond, Jiqr ponnr fa%h in 
jhanqwrnrtyw! cf m€tt ; myinieflet 
on^-araton lattiagr huiBtluBi a^flkiil in 
ihe qaiskB «f Jaw: than >am jfs^ to 
oome, limae I idU imX die tiU I lis?e 
fli^ed! Mflbdie aoililLih«irdMh 
tW« ive fidHled. I&e spmi tint 
■irellB jmd bomb iviikin iw n]^ tfaUi 
tlM^UBtinyof TOUiaB BoMioaiBlMit 
Mfb^gaal" 

With tUfl ttouluiBO, Bond 
0ODgirt hiB pilioNR. Wluit .<iKrB tbd 
seAectimi of the ^-pguauBt <vhoBi Im 
WBBtojiidget Neednvaikt .Letim 
pietoxe to im»Milf«B 'his ^rfiattei 
ksalth, the laogmoir of «MkneBB height* 
mdag the g^oon ^nrhieh nekee the 
imyair ef a gae1> iwa certaanty'^ 
the doom to be paaBed i^ttut him, 
hiaknevledge tint the<imcle efliocy 
Biandon vas to be Ids jvdge^that 
MaulevereriaB to behiraoouer ; 4Bid 
thaiiaaUhnmaa pvofaahiMty theeidy 
vonaahe had ever to f edaw i Bl aoe Be r 
er hrter: learn- the :en»iinlity «f hia 
life, and the igMaahiyof hiBidaaUi: 
tetMs hat /giaaoe at the aberve Uaek- 
BBis of eiraaniataMea that«mroiflBded 
ham, audit imid seem that thevele 
bat litito^oehtfasto the eonplexi 
df hn tfaoatghte 1 IMufa, indeed, 
in that terrible aad deeokto 
ir,«Be aweet fhee daane on him, 
" and deAwrt the darioieea aH^way. 
Peihaps, too, iihaiever might be the 
BtingB of big ooaneieBee^ oner thought^ 
ene raaaembzaBce of a tomptatien, 
maBteNd,8nda Bm:eBcsBped,bnDiight 
to bis eyea tean that iraie 'Wn 
and heafing in their •Bomee. Bat 
the heart of a man, in OsAnd' 
awfbl aitnatieii, la dark and tnsera- 
table ; «kd often, srhcn the wildest 
and gloemieet eztemal -ciraDmataBoea 
n% their nflectioa -aleepa 



lamaahadear^eaim Mdatianpeaitlm 



Theaext ■OTingy'the'^HMteteani 
of * * « *(atoaimiBwhieb,^Be- 
grei to<aa^, anaoeident onee detained 
oaraalf in thiee vietehed 4$^tmA 
nbUtk «e«aBy apeaking thetefeee fimn 
piiofni— 1 OKperiaaMe^ aaaert to be in 
ondiaaty timea the aaeat melaBcheiy 
and pne|>lnleanloe1riBg tnaigiegataon 
of hoaaea thatfcaehar imagjaatkit can 
oeawaife^) oxhihated « aoeae of aadL 
boatle^ aajmatjen, Bndijovial anzie^, 
«i^ the trial lor lifeor death tosfdlMr- 
eraatui e oan «1 af i mecite in the glrieg- 
mgtiohBaaataofthfrlSngliah. Aseuad 
the wast .the crowd thaekeMd with 
ev«iy mmaaBt> otii the whole 
■urkeMM^n which the to«ll^faaa 
ima sltaated, becaaBeeoe liTmg maaa. 
The windovni of tthe heoaea were 
filled wiih woBBen,.aoBBe of whom had 
taiBan-tbatoppertnBity to aaafce pasr- 
Itoa to breakfeat; and Utth) roimd 
ftaUea, witii tw aaA teaat eai thcaa, 
oa«ght the ^yea of the grioniagr 
mobbista aa thay gaped ;imfatiant^ 
npwarda.' 

-" Ben," aaid^a atoatyeoaaan, toaaiaflp 
up »hBi4^»Biy,midfiatchiBg theoaid 
eenoL inrhia ti^t hand, whieh the im- 
medaatoiy cwared with the teffcy— 
« BeD,headB or taila tlmt Levett m 
hanged ; heada hanged, taik not^for 



" Pettteoata, to beam»," qneth Beo, 
eataagan i^ple; and it«aa heada I 

''BamBBee,yeB'TeleBtl" cried Ite 
yoaman, nsdbbiaig bia reagh haaate 
with glee. 

It woidd have been a fiaio right fer 
AaaaoieBa, ooahl he hai«iper«hed oai 
ene of.tiie henaetopa of vtfae aaazbe^ 
fdaoe of* * * *, and loeiced en iihtt 
Mm mw aJBgiaBd hearing, aea of :iDor- 
tality briow. Oh! the right of at 
CNwd -seimd a ooart of law, or.m 
gibbet, onght to make. the deril split 
hsnarif with laoghter. 

WhUe the mob waa ftetiiBg, 'mud 



PA0LOLlIT€6a 



2(» 



and beting, und pkkiiig pecJcetii, 
and trsmpMgfeelv uid'tesrHiggowtti^ 
ftniri Bcramliiliii^iieaTer snd neaarar ia 
tlie doovB and windairaof tlve wart, 
Brandon yurM lAm^ tmtclMag lih 
abBtemioTO repadt iw epai atoi y -to at- 
tendance on liis jndieiill doties. His 
footman entered iritfa « leffter. Bir 
WiHiam glaneed wpidiy owr llie 
seal (one oif those immense merffiees 
of wax used at that-day)^ adorned 
vitili a huge coat of wtaa, sonaoimted 
irith an earrs tsoronet, «nd deeofuM 
on either side iriih. lihose fiapportevs 
so dear to heraTdie iaste. He then 
tore open the letter, tmd read a» 
fellow?: — 

**' Mt DBA* BiElTaiiAit, 

" Yon knovtiiat, in the fast^OA- 
▼evsation I had the ihonmir <tD hold 
with you, I attnded, though perhaps 
somewhat distantly, to ^ esteem 
which his Majesty had penonaUy 
eDEprassed for your prau^^iles and 
taientSy and his wish to testify it at 
the eariisBt oppoiiimity. There will 
he, as yon we donbtlfln awsre, ^an 
immediate creation of four peexagee. 
Yonr name stande second on the fist. 
The choice of mie his JE^jeaty gsa- 
cionsfy leayes to yon; but he has 
hinted, that the roqteetahle antiqmfy 
of your family weald midce him best 
pleased were you to select the naone 
of your own .^unfly-seat, idiio3i, if I 
mistake not^ is Wsriock. Yon will 
instraet me«t your leisive as to the 
Bunmer in iduiiBh the patent idiould 
be made out, iioneiiing the sucees- 
sion, ko. Perhi^ (eaeuse the tieenee 
of an old friaid)'^]8 event may in- 
dnceyoutofonake yoariongcheridttd 
oelibiugr. I need jiot add tiiat this 
accession of mokwillbe aeeompanied 
by profesiioBal elevaition. Yon will 
see by tiie p^pem that the death si£ 
****** leaiw TB4saBt the dignity 
of Chief Baran; aad.I am at lengtii 
empowered to offer yon a 



proportioned to jrour dudActer and 

talents. 

" With great consideration, 
" BeUfiYC me, my dear 31r, 
*• Veiy truly yours, 



Brandon's dark eye glanced quickly 
from the sigoature of the Premier, 
alteedto this co«imunication,towarcla 
thesuzror opposite him. He strode 
to it, and examined his own coun- 
tenaaee with » long imd wistful gaae. 
JS^iHK, we think, did yonth&l gi^^t 
about to repair to the trysting spot, . 
in whadi Mr looks rnalBe the greatest 
of eas^hly adrant^ges^ gaoe more 
anadously'an the impartial glass ^aat 
Tiaw did Uie ascetic and seomfol 
judge.;. and never, we ween, did the 
eye of the said gidlant retire with a 
more satisiied iand triumphant ex-- 
pvHiion* 

" Yes^ yea 1" muttered the judge, 
"*' no »gn of infiimi^.is yet written 
here; ^ blood flows dear and warm 
enough, ihe cheek looks firm too^ 
and passing full, for one who was 
alwa^ of the lean kind. Aha ! this 
letter is a cordial, an elixir viioe, I 
feel as if a new lease were granted to 
the rductant tenant. Lord Warlock, 
thefir8tBaronofWarlock,--LordChief 
Baron.— What next V* 

Ashospoke,he strode unconsciously 
away ; fblding his arms with that sort 
of joyous and complacent gesture 
whldi implies the id«i of a man hug- 
ging himself in a silent delight. 
Assuredly, had the most skilful phj- 
siciaa then looked upon the ardent 
and alUighted &ce, the firm step, the 
elastic and .musoular frame, the vigor- 
ens air: of BrSfOdon, as he mentally 
contxnned his soliloquy, he would 
hflive predicted far him as £Eur a grasp 
oniongevity m tbe chances of mortal 
life wiU allow. He was interrupted 
l^y tin aerruit entering. 



264 



PAUL CUFFOBD. 



"It is tirentj-five minntes alter 
nine, but," lald he, respectfully. 

"Sir, — mr!" repeated Brandon. 
"Ali,veU! BoUter 

" Yes, sir, and the sheriff's carriage 
is almost at the door." 

"Humph,— Minister,— Peer,— War- 
lock, — succession. — ^My eon, my son ! 
— would to God that I could find 
thee!" 

Such were Brandon's last thoughts 
as he left the roouL It was with 
great difficulty, so dense was the 
crowd, that the judge drore up to the 
court As the carriage slowly passed, 
the spectators pressed to the windows 
of the yehicle, and stood on tiptoe to 
catch a view of the celebrated lawyer. 
Brandon's fiice, nerer long indicaUye 
of his feelings, had now settled into 
its usual gravity, and the seyere 
loftiness of his look chilled, while it 
satisfied, the curiosity of the vulgar. 
It had been ordered that no person 
should be admitted until the jiidge 
had taken his seat on the bench ; and 
this order occasioned so much delay, 
owing to the accumulated pressure 
of the vast and miscellaneous group, 
that it was more than half an hour 
before the court was able to obtain 
that decent order suiting the solem- 
nity of the occasion. At five minutes 
before ten, an universal and inde- 
scribable movement announced that 
the prisoner was put to the bar. We 
read in one of the journals of that 
day, that " on being put to the bar, 
the prisoner looked round with a long 
and anxious gaze, which at length 
settled on the judge, and then drop- 
ped, while the prisoner was observed 
to change countenance slightly. 
Lovett was dressed in a plain dark 
suit ; he seemed to be about six feet 
high; and though thin and worn, 
probably from the effect, of his wound 
and imprisonment, he is remarkably 
well made, and exhibits the outward 
appearance of that great personal 
strength which he is said to possess. 



and which is not unfre(inently the 
characteristic of daring eiiminals. 
His fiMie is handsome and prepossess- 
ing, his eyes and hair dark, and his 
complexion pale, possibly from the 
effects of his confinement ; there was 
a certain sternness in his countenance 
during the greater part of the tiiaL 
His behaviour was remarkably col- 
lected and composed. The prisoner 
listened with the greatest attention 
to the indictment, which the reader 
will find in another part of our paper, 
charging him with the highway rob- 
bery of Lord Mauleverer, on the night 

of the of last. He occar 

sionally inclined his body forward, 
and turned his ear towards the court; 
and he was observed, as the jury 
were sworn, to look steadily in the 
fiioe of each. He breathed thick and 
hard when the various aliases he had 
assumed, Howard, Cavendish, Jack- 
son, &c., were read ; but smiled, with 
an unaccountable expression, when 
the list was completed, as if exulting 
at the varieties of his ingenuity. At 
twenty-five minutes past ten, Mr. 
Dyebrighty the counsel for the crown, 
stated the case to the jury." 

Mr. Dyebright was a lawyer of great 
eminence; he had been a Whig all 
his life, but had latterly become re- 
markable for his insincerity/ and sub- 
servience to the wishes of the higher 
powers. His talents were peculiar 
and effective. If he had little elo- 
quence, he had much power ; and hia 
legal knowledge was sound and ex- 
tensive. Many of his brethfen excelled, 
him in display ; but no one, like him, 
possesised the secret of addressing a 
jury. Winningly fioniliar; seemingly 
candid to a degree that scarcely did 
justice to his cause, as if he were in 
an agony lest he should persuade yon 
to lean a hair-breadth more on hia 
side of the case than justice would 
allow; apparently all made up of 
good, homely, virtuons feeling, a dis- 
interested regard for truth, a blunt 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



265 



yet tender honesty, seasoned with a 
few amiable fireside prejudioes, which 
always come home to the hearts of 
year futhers of fiimilies and tho- 
rough-bred Britons; yersed in all 
the niceties of language, and the 
magic of names ; if he were defending 
crime, carefully calling it misfortune ; 
if attacking misfortune, constantly 
calling it crime ; — Mr. Dyebiight was 
exactly the man bom to pervert 
justice, to tickle jurors, to cozen truth 
with a friendly smile, and to obtain a 
Tast reputation as an excellent adyo- 
cate. He began by a long preliminary 
flourish on the importance of the 
case. He said that he should, with 
the most scrupulous delicacy, avoid 
every remark calculated to raise un- 
necessary prejudice against the pri- 
soner. He should not allude to his 
unhappy notoriety, his associations 
with tiie lowest dregs. — (Here up 
jumped the counsel for the prisoner, 
and Mr. Dyebright was called to 
order.) ** God knows," resumed the 
learned gentleman, looking wistfully 
at the jury, " that my learned friend 
might have spared hhnself this warn- 
ing. Qod knows that I would rather 
fifty of the wretched inmates of this 
county gaol were to escape unharmed, 
than that a hair of the prisoner you 
behold at the bar should be uy'ustiy 
touched. Thelife'ofahi:£manbeingis 
at stake; we shotdd be guilty our- 
selves of a crime, which on our death- 
beds we should tremble to recall, 
were we to suffer any consideration, 
whether of interest or of prejudice, 
or of undue fear for our own proper- 
ties and lives, to bias us even to the 
turning of a straw against the unfor- 
tunate prisoner. G^tlemen, if you 
find me travelling a single inch firom 
my case — if you find me saying a 
single word calcuhtted to harm the 
prisoner in your eyes, and unsup- 
ported by the evidence I shall call, 
then I implore you not to depend 
upon the vigilance of my learned 



friend, but to treasure these my errors 
in your recollection, and to consider 
them as so many arguments in fiivour 
of the prisoner. If, gentlemen, I 
ooic^ by any possibility imagine that 
your verdict would be fiivourable to 
the prisoner, I can, unaffectedly and 
from the bottom of my heart, dedaie 
to yon that I should rejoice; a case 
might be lost, but a fellow-creature 
would be saved! Callous as we of 
the l^;al profession are believed, we 
have feelings like you; and I ask 
any one of you, gentiemen of the jury, 
any one who has ever felt the plea- 
sures of social intercourse, the joy 
of charity, the heart's reward of 
benevolence, — ^I ask any one of you, 
whether, if he were placed in the 
arduous situation I now hold, all 
the persuasions of vanity would not 
vanish at once from his mind, and 
whether his defeat as an advocate 
would not be rendered dear to him, by 
the common and fleshly sympathies 
of a man ! But, gentiemen (Mr. Dye- 
bright's voice at once deepened and 
fidtered), there is a duty, a painful 
duty, we owe to our country; and 
never, in the long course of my pro- 
fessional experience, do I remember 
an instance in which it was more 
called forth than in the present 
Mercy, genti^nen, is dear, very dear 
to us all ; bnt it is the deadliest injury 
we can inflict on mankind, when it is 
bought at the expense of justice."' 

The learned gentieman then, after a 
few fiirther prefatory observations, 
proceeded to state how, on the night 
of last. Lord Mauleverer was stop- 
ped and robbed by three men masked, 
of a sum of money amounting to 
above three hundred and fifty pounds, 
a diamond snuff-box, rings, watch, 
and a case of most valuable jewels,— 
how Lord Mauleverer, in endeavouring 
to defend himself, had passed a bullet 
through the clothes of one of the 
robbers — ^how, it would be proved, 
that the garments of the prisoner. 



PAUL CI2EFF0SB. 



fraud ina oirTe in Cktfordshire, And 
pwdiirely swom to bf • witnon he 
dumld predme, earhibited a rsat 
Bimifor to Boek a onettsalmHet would 

pWdU60|~~DlOWy VUffW^/CTf It •WOUKi 

be pentiyely fiiram to by ibe eane 
idtsen, ttittt the pneoner Lowtt had 
oone to the eavem with two Meom- 
pliees not yet taken np, sfause their 
nMae by the prisoaer, and boaated 
of theTobberyhe had Jniteommitted; 
that in lite elothes and ileepiiig 
apartment of the robber the artieleii 
atolen from Loid Matdeverer wove 
finmd^ and tiiat'tiie pone eontaining 
tlie notes for three hundred pounds, 
the only thing the prisoner eould 
probably hare obtained thoae to cany 
dff with him, on the moniii^ in whieh 
the oaTe was entered by the poliee- 
men, was found on 'his person on the 
day on which he 'had attempted the 
resene of his comrades, and had lieen 
apprehended in that attempt. He 
sliSbed, moreoyer, tlutt the drass found 
in the oayern, and awom to by one 
witeess he should produce, as belong- 
ing to the prisoner, answered exaetly 
to tiie deseription of the'Oletlies worn 
bythe principal robber, and sworn 1» 
by Lord Haolev^rsr, liis semott^ and 
tiie postilions. In like manner, the 
ooloor of one of the horses found in 
the csrem corresponded wi^ that 
rode by the highwayman. On these 
olroiimBtantial preoil^ aidcd^by the im- 
mediate testimony &l the king^s evi- 
dence (that witness whom he ahould 
produce), he rested a ease whidi 
could, he aTerred, leave no doubt- on 
the minds of any impartial jury." 
S«ch, briefly and plainly alleged^made 
the Bdbstanee of the details entered 
into by the learned emmael, who then 
preeeededto call his witnesses. 'She 
evidence of Lord Manloverer (who 
waatteying^atMattlevever Bark, which 
was within a few miles of* *■•'*), 
WW short and clear; (it was noticed 
as a singttkur cireumatanee, that at 
tho'end of the evidenee the prisoner 



bowed teapeetfldly to Ua hvdddp.) 
The witness of tlM) poBtiMons aad of 
the "vatet was no less coneise ; nor 
coold HU the faigenuity of Olilfosd's 
coonsel iMko a^y pnrtof tehr oil- 
dance in his iii— misiiiiiinlian The 
main witaess depended on by the 
crown was n<Mr anmnioBtri, vnd tiw 
solenm eonntenanea of Peter Mae 
QiwwlarTese on the ej«s of the juy. 
One Mk of oold and bUghittng 9mt- 
tempt ftll on hhnftom the-fye of tiie 
prisoner, who'did not agidn ddgn to 
rogaid him during the lAde ef hia 



The witBMB of flae Gaawler was 
delifeMd wilh » pouposify worthy of 
the eoE-editer of ^the Ashuanm." 
N«ver«Me8B, by^Oe skill of Mr. X)ya- 
brigfat^ it WW rendered auffieiantly 
dear a atecyto lesre aoi impresrion 
on -^M jwy daamatery to tiie inteteato 
of the prisoner, ^e eonnsel on the 
opposite ride was not slow in pep- 
ceiviBg Ibe ground aaqoixed hy tiie 
adrerse party ; so, tdoarhig his thzoat^ 
lie rose with « anearing air to the 

''So, so!** began Mr. Botheram, 
putting on a pair of renmriudbly large 
spectacles, wherewith he trmeulantly 
regaoded the witness^— " so, so, Mr. 
MjioGNawiecr^iBtliat'yonrmame? ekf 
Ah, it k, is it? a Tary TeiyrespeQi- 
able name it iatoo, I wansnt Wdl, 
sir, look at me. Kow, on your oath, 
remember, were you ever tiie editar 
of m eertain thbig pnbliriied every 
Wednoadi^,and ea]ledtheAttenaeum»' 
or 'the AnnflMm^' or some emd& 
namet" 

OommeBoiHgwith'tlliB insidiO BB e at B l 
self^danmaiofy ipiestien, the l e a rn e d , 
counsel then proceeded, aa artful^ 
as he WW able, throng « wesim o£ 
interrogatories, ealculated to ingure 
the character, tiie respeeta^le charac- 
ter, of Mac:Gianrier,;8nd weaken liis 
testimony in the eyes of tie jms]r- 
He enoceeded in ezcitittg in the 
an d ien e e tliat -tfedSi^^ of menimen^ 



PAUL TXQHO'CKKD, 



mn 



cidiglitod to iBtanpene Um dnU 
BeiioiiflMflB of haa6iB9mkiuna& beiag. 
Bttl/th<Migh the ^ny. Ill— ■fiiinii .grin- 
sad, tiMy^mo aot oonvinsedL Ike 
Soetemm xetovd fjmn the >^tBefli- 
boz, "acotehedTlNdatp^ inini»iiia- 
tioii,hatw»t '<kiHed''«8tots8timo]i7. 
It was just befose tiiis liitiieiB ooon- 
olndad, that Lard Maahveser ^anaad | 
to be luuided to tiK jadge a aMOl Blip 
of |M4wr, contaaBng rxMiafy thaoe 
irarda in pe&ey.}-— 

"BBABBaAinMS,— A dinner waits 
you at ManleTierer -Park, xmjly three 

miles hence. Ijoid and the 

Bishop of meet yon. Plaoity af 

news from London, and a letter ahoat 
yon, which I will show to no one till 
we meet Mdke haste and hang this 
poor fellow, that I may see yoa the 
sooner; and it is bad for both of -as 
to wait long Ibr a regular meal like 
dinner. I oan't st^ losgex^ it is ao 
hot, and n^y aarves w«i3e jjWaysrSiMh 
o^tiblep 

'* Tenia, 



" If you win eom^ giv« me a nod. 
You know my houx^— itia always the 
same.'' 

13ie jwige glMCteg over ihermte, 
inclined hia head gravely to the 'earl, 
whowithdrew;'andinoBemiButeafter- 
wards, a heary aad braathlflBB eOenee 
ftll 0T«r the whole •eenrt The pri- 
soner was called upon for his tdefonee: 
it was singnlsr what«d£fibrait sensa- 
tion to tluit existing in thdrbraasts 
tin moment b^ne, oMpt thrillingly 
tSiroagh Ihe aadianoe. Jiasfacd was 
ereiy whisper-— wnislMd ww eveiy 
saiUe that the hte «rosa«aanrinat«m 
had excited; a^snkidflQ anddbifling 
sense of the dread importMee <tf the 
tribunal made itself irtraptly ftlt m 
the minds of ereiy^Be present 

Perhaps, as m the gloomy native of 
Hogarth (tiw moral ~ 



of paintiN), the dose netghbauihood 
of pain to a^Mhmade '^e former 
oame^with the homelier sfaodc to the 
bent j— be Hmk aa ttttay, a freeaiBg 
amiely mailing ri^^ise, and stir- 
ring through the air, made every 
man in that iwiens erowd feel a 
^^patfay of awe witii his nmghboar, 
excepting only the faardened judge 
and the hadEMsjed lawyers, and one 
i^eetater, an idiot who had tiirost 
himself hi witii the general press, and 
stood, within <a fofwpaoes of the pri- 
setter, giimiing nnoonseiously, and 
eveiynowand then winking with a 
giaa^r eyo «t seme one ata diatance, 
whose vtgilaBee he had probably 
elnded. 

nraftce and Mpeet, even the atti- 
t«de of the prisener, «were well fitted 
to heighten the efl^t whieh would 
miABxaUy have 'been ereated by any 
man under the -same fearfol doom. 
Hestoed at the veiy front of the bar, 
and hia tall and ndMe figure was 
dsawn up toits foil height ; a glow of 
exeUament spraad itself gradually over 
ftatoies at all times striking, and 
lighted an eyo naturally eloquent, and 
to Whieh 'vaiioiiB emoti^ms at that 
time gave « more than commonly 
deep and impressive expression. He 
be^^thass— 

«' My lord, I hare Uttle to say, and 
I may at once relieve the anxiety of 
my oonnael, who now looks wistfolly 
upon me, and add, that that little will 
searoely embraee the object of defence. 
Why should I defend myself? Why 
dionld I endeavour to protract a life 
that a fow days, more or less, will ter- 
minate, aeeerding to the oidinary 
calcnlatioas of dance 1 fiktchasitiff, 
and has been, my life is vowed to the 
Uvw, and the law will have the offiBOP* 
ing. Could I escape i^m this faidtet- 
msnt, I know that aeven othem await 
me, and that by em or the etiier^ 
theaeaByeanvtetion and my sentenee 
niHiieome. Life may be sweet to All 
of 118^ .my lard; and wen it poasiUe 



M8 



PAUL CLIFFORD. 



ihfti mine could be speied yeiawliile> 
thai ooniiiiaed life might make a 
better atonement for paBtacticwa than 
a death which, abmpt and premature, 
calls for repentance while it forbida 
xedrew. 

** But, when the dark aide of things 
Ib oar only choice, it is useless to 
regard the bright; idle to fix our 
eyes upon life, when death is at hand ; 
useless to speak of contrition, when 
we are denied its proot It is the 
usual poliqr of prisoners in my ritoa- 
tion to address the liBelingB and flatter 
the prejudices of the jury ; to descant 
on the excellence of our laws, while 
they endeaTour to disarm them; to 
pndse justice, yet demand mensy ; to 
talk of expecting acquittal, yet boast 
of submitting without a murmur to 
condemnation. For me, to whom all 
earthly interests are dead, this policy 
is idle and superfluous. I hesitate not 
to tell you, my lord judge—to pro- 
claim to yon, gentlemen of the juiy, 
that the laws which I hare broken 
through my life I despise in death ! 
Your laws are but of two classes; 
the one makes criminals, the other 
punishes them. I have sufiered by 
the one— I am about to perish by the 
other. 

" My lord, it was the turn of a straw 
which made me what I am. Seven 
years ago I was sent to the house of 
correction for an offence which I did 
not commit; I went thither, a boy 
who had never infringed a ungle law 
— ^I came forth, in a few weeks, a man 
who was prepared to break all laws ! 
Whence was this change I— was it my 
fkult, or that of my condemnors 1 
You had first wronged me by a 
punishment which I did not deserve — 
you wronged me yet more deeply, 
when (even had I been guilty of the 
first offence) I was sentenced to herd 
with hardened offenders, and gradu- 
ates in vice and vice's methods of 
support. The laws themselves caused 
me to break the laws : firsts by im- 



planting within me the goading sense 
of injustice ; secondly, by submitting 
me to the corruption of example. 
Thus, I repeat— and I trust my words 
will sink solemnly into the Jiearts of 
all present — ^your legislation made 
me what I am t and it now deatroys 
me, as it hoM destroyed thouscmds for 
being what it made me / But for this 
the fijrst aggression on me, I might 
have been what the world terms 
honesty — I might have advanced to 
old age and a peaceful grave, through 
the harmless cheateries of trade, or 
the honoured fihlsehoods of a profes- 
sion. Nay, I might have supported 
the laws which I have now braved ; 
like the counsel opposed to me, I 
might have grown sleek on the vices 
of others, and advanced to honour by 
my ingenuity in hanging my fellow- 
creatures ! The canting and pre- 
judgmg part of the press has affected 
to set before you the merits of ' honest 
ability,' or 'laborious trade,' in oppo- 
sition to my offences. What, I beseech 
you, are the props of your ' honest ' 
exertion — ^the profits of 'trade t ' Are 
there no bribes to menials 1 Is there 
no adulteration of goods] Are the 
rich never duped in the price they 
pay 1 — are the poor never wronged in 
the quality they receive] Is there 
honesty in the bread you eat, in a 
single necessity which clothes, or 
feeds, or warms you ] Let those whom 
the law protects consider it a pro- 
tector : when did it ever protect me f 
When did it ever protect the poor 
mani The government of a state, 
the institutions of law, profess to pro- 
vide for all those who ' obey.' Mark ! 
a man hungers— do you feed himi 
He is naked— do you clothe him ] If 
not, you break your covenant, you 
drive him back to the first law of 
nature, and you hang him, . not 
because he is guilty, but because you 
have 2^ him naked and starving! 
(A murmur among the mob below, 
with great difficulty silenced.) One 



PAUL CLIFFOED. 



thing only I will add, and that not to 
move your mercy. No, nor to inTest 
my &te with an idle and momentary 
interest ; but becanse there are some 
persons in this world who hare not 
known me as the criminal who stands 
before yoa, and whom the tidings of 
my fate may hereafter reach ; and I 
would not have those persons view me 
in blacker colours than I deserve. 
Among all the rumourr, gentlemen, 
that h&re reached you, through all 
the tales and fables l^d^ed from my 
unhappy notoriety and my approach- 
ing doom; I put it to you, if you have 
heard that I have committed one 
sanguinary action, or one ruinous and 
deliberate fraud? You have heard 
that I have lived by the plunder of 
the rich — I do not d^ny tiie charge. 
From the grinding of the poor, the 
habitual overreaching, or the syste- 
matic pitferihg of my neighbours, my 
conscience is as free as it is from the 
charge of cruelty and bloodshed. 
Those errors I leave to honest medio- 
crity or virtuous exertion ! You may 
perhaps find, too, that my life has not 
passed through a career of outrage 
without scattering some few benefits 
on the road. In destroying me, it is 
true that you wiU have the consola- 
tion to think, that among the benefits 
you derive &t>m my sentence, will be 
the salutary encouragement you give 
to other offenders to offehd to the last 
degree, and to divest outrage of no 
single aggravation f But if this does 
not seem to you any very powerful 
inducement, you may pause before 
you cut off from all amendment a 
man who seems neither wholly hard- 
ened nor utterly beyond atonement 
Ky lord, my counsel would have 
wished to summon witnesses, — some 
to bear testimony to redeeming points 
in my own character, others to invali- 
date the oath of the witness against 
me — a man whom I saved from 
destruction in order that he might 
destroy me. I do not think either 



necessary. The public press has 
already said of me what little good 
does not shock the truth ; and had I 
not possessed something of those 
qualities which society does not dia- 
esteem, you would not have beheld 
me here at this hour ! If I had saved 
myself as well as my companions, I 
should have left this country, perhaps 
for ever, and commenced a very dif- 
ferent career abroad. I committed 
offences ; I eludM you ; I committed 
what, in my case, was an act of duty : 
I am seized, and I perish. But the 
weakness of my body destroys me, not 
the strength of your malice. Had I 
(and as the prisoner spake, the 
haughty and rapid motion, the eiir 
larging of the form, produced by tho 
passion of the moment, made impres- 
sively conspicuous to idl the remark- 
able power of lus frame,) — had I but 
my wonted health, my wonted com- 
mand over these limbs and these 
veins, I would have asked no friend, 
no ally, to favour my escape. I tell 
you, engines and guardians of the 
law, that I would have mocked your 
chains, and defied your walls, as yt 
know that I have mocked and defied 
them before. But my blood creeps 
now only in drops through its courses ; 
and the heart tiiat I had of old stirs 
feebly and heavily within me." The 
prisoner paused a moment, and re- 
sumed in an altered tone : — " Leaving, 
then, my own character to the ordeal 
of report, I cannot perhaps do better 
than leave to the same criterion that 
of the witness against me. I vrill 
candidly own that, under other dr- 
cumstanoes, it might have been 
otherwise. I wUl candidly avow that 
I might have then used such means 
as your law awards me to procure an 
acquittal and to prolong my existence, 
— though in a new scene : as it is, 
what matters the cause in which I 
receive my sentence 1 Nay, it is even 
better to suffer by the first than to 
linger to the last. It is some conso. 



jn> 



EMJIiQUlRQIID. 



IMkAiMi agifai to atend vliMft Lavir 
itoBd; togQt;bi«i«h th».hiMMhg 
■oliBBiliM nkkh. 1 humr tkk ^ 
^■dvred; to Ma th* mito' of bomm^ 
jnd retofi tb* fromiL oi oHmck; to 

ttMi to depend oifcili»oa|iffiQ»«l the 
exoitoi Mrrw. li ie wnimthMig to 
£mI one sart of the dmnsurf dlagjuw 
if orer« and thai I nay mii unw- 
laetod in my den xeatil, fer aamium 
only, I. am a^Hn the bait of tiw 
.nnthinUng and the nonater of. the 
crewd. Jj^letd, I haye mm den»f 
To 7«Mi, iriwaa the l«ir. dienn the 
piiaoner'a ooiHiaetr*tok 7<mi# gentle- 
ttomen of th« X«7i to whon it haa 
ddflgrted hiaflite^X learn that cihanawi 
ofmylifew'' 

Tbepfiaener.oeMod; bnt.ib*.aatte 
heavy ailenoe whidiy aave mhen beo- 
hen by one aoUtaiy nMmnuKV had. lain 
over tiie cowrt dnrii^ ^ fiMdhv stUl 
ooBlin«ed even for- BeveraL aonienta 
afier thai dn^ and. finn voice had 
died <m the eec So diffsnniihnd 
been the defene».of the pfiaener ftom 
thai which had been eaEpeoted; ao 
aasiiredly did th» ame hadEoeg^ 
part gS th^andienQe^ eren^aa he. hnd 
pvooeeded, ima^^itiuit^ by^aomeavt* 
fill turn, he wott&d ai length nand 
into the usual eooneaof d^aoe^ thai: 
when hia nnfidtering and alnoet steEn 
aecenta pauaed, men wore aoi'.pie- 
parad to fe^ thai ha8> speeoh. was 
finiahedy and the panae ii»reUmtuily 
javred on them, aa i]OlJineoiia..aad 
abrapt At length, when eaeki of 
the andiaaee slowly awokfrto the cob- 
▼ietion that the prisoner had indeed, 
ooineluded hishaiangiw, a^sMvement, 
eloquent oi feelings nleafied from.a 
anspmise which had been p^srh^pa the 
more earnest and the> move blMkded 
with awe^ from the bc^dnesa and 
nordity of the words on which it 
hua& circled ronnd the^eQHrt The 
JQxors lookedjconlaaedity^ eaelLothflr^ 
batnotoneof them fi^pfe»even by a 
whisper; their, feeling^ which bad 



faeatt MMMMd; br tim 



of Use 



ito nii^arilR aad.thn^hwighty iB^p<»- 
li(Qrvol'it»icme»ixMn<ao hm gnaded bj 
ito oenne> an to'nsltto: hito anqr staie 
of MiBd^leald^|^ftPOt^^f» to hna* or 
the^nvena; :f»ikaA eaoh sma wnitod 
fov hur nmihbani' to qpnak fint, In 
oi^r. timt Im. might fini, aa it nwst, 
in aMihar^ n.k]fti of.cfam t» the 
aadseiMled- freiiny ^ishidi 
in.hiaaelL 
Tha judges whn had: been frona the 
tet attmatod bgr thnair andjNfiaetof 
the paiaonei^.had padiapBy.,noiwsib- 
atoii<tl«g- thn< haidineHa of. Ua aind^ 
mem afpnovingto than angr.onn^ jpn- 
sentyliatenedtto th».daleimer; &r in 
thn seem: ol thet Utew inatitntmna, 
andibemeok hnnaaiyof aneiai life^ so 
de^yingjymanifeated 1^ the i^iaener. 



remaikaU^ eongamal. tohia own; 
and thaa^ sympaihy>iinahaigjbiwnd by 
the> haidlhoed of phgfppieal nerve^and 
maml iakmpNkity ^plagred. by the 
ppaaoMr; tiaaiiliin whieh^ ami^p 
men of < a similar manld^ oiken. tern 
thst stiongeait metiflror^i eeteern^ and 
aoBaa^maa<(aa*wn rand of in the Im- 
perial. Oocaiean.' and. his efaiefe) the 
en^>ppini of^aMmationil Bsan4<« 
wa% hewofer/ seen reeaUed.to lus cold 
self by a.manmMT-of .vagna. appianHe 
cirdiag^ throoghMit tha common 
crowd, ameng wham 1^ ef^^ettd 
impntofr alimifa maaifiBsto'itself fixat, 
and to wham tiie ofjosenaof thai^ 
8oner,.tiie«|^ haA imp^^tiynndiM^- 
stood^ eamameaa immed iatoly bwac 
than thaydid. to tha,batter and rieher 
elaasea of' tha andieneeb Sver sUto 
to tha dscQcnma ol; foem, Brandon 
iastantly><»dered .silgnea in the oonrt ; 
and whMk: iiwns again.^rasteredy and 
it was iidly madenteod thai^ the pri- 
soner's ddfeMahadL<cloetd, the jifudge 
prooeaded toenm np. 

It i& worthy oframarh^ that many 
of the qualities of mind whiphsean 
moet unamiaUe in-privato li& often 



PAUL^GLIFFOB^. 



&l 



■II 

t)0 
101 

liri 

tfi 

lii' 



lit 



I' 


|i 

»> 

i< 

ft 

P 

f 
I 
I 

< 



oosduoe withi a^ tdngiilar fallfl^y to 
the. ends of pufalio ; and tbw tiie 
BtQBjr fiiinnw«.flhMiMthwtftiaof Bna- 
don irsB a mala caoaa i«hieli< made 
]iimadmu:aUoMa.jud9»i For men 
iaolBee or so l«s.froaBL tiuir ftdiAgft 
likaa theipintoraatai. 

Olanotng ovor Itkiaote^ tbe jndga 
incUnfld himielf to tbs jiiry^. and 
b^gan witli tbat oItot ringiaff voioe 
which paEticolaiiydiBimgaubed Bmni- 
don'a eloque&eo,. and oaniM with, it 
in hi£^ BtationB so nuyMUc and can- 
did a tone of peisaaaion* He pointed 
out, with a clear breyity, the Tarions 
points of the eyidenoe; he dwelt for 
&momentr on the attempi to oast dia- 
npate i^n the testimony of. JCms 
Grawl6i>— hut called a proper atten* 
Hon to the fiut^ that the attempthad 
been nnsuppoited l^ witnesseB or 
pioot Aa he proceeded, the impres- 
sion made by the prisoner on the 
minds of the jury slowly melted 
away; and perhaps^ so much, do 
men soften when they behold dfiady 
the &ee of. a fellow-man. dependep^ 
on thorn for life, it acted diaadvan- 
lageously on the interests of difford^ 
that> during the snmming up, he 
leant back in the dock, and prsTented 
his countenance from being aeen. 
When the eyidence had been gone 
through the Judge conduded thna : — 

'<^he piisoneiv who, in his defenoe 
(on the piiniBiples and opinions of 
which I now forbeai: to comment), 
certainly exhibited the signs of a 
superior education, and a high though 
penrerted ability, has alluded to the 
reports oinndated by the public press, 
and leant some little stress on the 
various anecdotes tending to his adr 
vantage, which he snppesea hare 
reached your ears. lamiynomeans 
willing' that the prisoner should be 
deprired of whaterer benefit may be 
derivable from such a source ; but it 
is not in this place, nor at this mo* 
meni^ that it can avail him. All you 
have to consider is the evidence be- 



fove you.. All on which you have to 
decide is» whether the prisoner boor 
ba not guilty of the robbery of which 
he is chai;ged« Toumust not waste 
athoQ^t on what redeems or heis^ 
enaa »y|»poaed orimft— you musioi^y 
decide on the crime itsdf. Put awagr 
from your mindi» I beseech yon,. aU 
that inteiieres with tho main case. 
Put away also fiwm. your motives of 
deoision all forethonght x»f other pos- 
sible indictments to. which the pii- 
soner has alluded, bat with whioh yon 
are neieeisarily unacqpsAnted. If yon 
doubt the avidenoe, whether of one 
Tritneas oc of all, tho prisoner moat 
receive from, yon tho benefit of tiiat 
doubt If not> yon ace sworn to a 
solemn oath,, whiish oidains you to 
foreigo all minor oonsiderationfr-T- 
which oompelB yomto watch narron^ 
that you bo not Influenced by tlw 
infirmities natural to us all, but eA- 
minal in you, to leaatowards the si^ 
of a mercy that would be rendered by 
your oath a. peiiuzy to God, and by 
your duty asimpartial oHiaem^ atrea- 
son to your country. I dismiss yonto 
the grave considention of the impes- 
tantcaae yon havcheacd ; and. I tniat 
that He to whom all hearts are open 
andall secrets aioknowa,wiU grantyon 
the tamper and the judgment to form 
a.right decision t" 

There was in the. miy^stio aapaet 
and thrilling voice of Brandonsoma- 
thing which made the commonwit 
form of words^soleinn and impiessiva; 
and the hjpoeritstr^awaie of this &U- 
city of manner, generally, as naw^ 
added weight to his cGBoliiding wosda 
by aJ»ligious allusion or a Seriptoial 
phraseology. Ho eeaaed; and the 
juiy> recovering the offcMst of hia a4iift' 
ration, consulted for a moment among 
themselves; the foreman then, addreaa- 
ing the court on behalf of his fiaUow- 
jurors, requested leave to retire for 
deliberation* An. attendant bailiff 
being sworn, in, we read in the joocv 
nals.of the day, which.noted tho divi- • 



272 



PAUL CLIPFOBD. 



sions of time with that cnstomary 
Bcrapulosity rendered terrible by the 
reflection hov soon all time and sea- 
Bons may periah for the hero of the 
scene, that " it was at twenty-five 
minntes to two that the jury with- 
drew." 

Perhaps in the whole course of a 
criminal trial there is no period more 
awful than that occupied by the deli- 
beration of the jury. In the present 
case, the prisoner, as if acutely sensi- 
ble of his situation, remained in the 
rear of the dock, and buried his fiice 
in his hands. They who stood near 
him observed, however, that his breast 
did not seem to swell with the con- 
vulsive emotion customary to persons 
in his state, and that not even a sigh 
or agitated movement escaped him. 
The jury had been absent about 
twenty minutes, when a confused noise 
was heard in the court. - The face of 
the judge turned in commanding seve- 
rity towards the quarter whence it 
proceeded. He perceived a man of 
a coarse garb and mean appearance 
endeavouring, rudely and violently, to 
push his way through the crowd 
towards the bench, and at the same 
instant he saw one of the officers of the 
court approaching the disturber of its 
tranquillity, with no friendly intent. 
The man, aware of the purpose of the 
constable, exclaimed with great vehe- 
mence, " I vill give this to my lord 
the judge, blow me if I von't I" and 
as he spoke, he raised high above his 
head a soiled scrap of paper folded 
awkwardly in the shape of a letter. 
The instant Brandon's eye caught the 
rugged features of the intrusive stran- 
ger, he motioned with rather less than 
his usual slowness of gesture to one of 
his official satellites. " firing me that 
paper instantly ! " he whispered. 

The officer bowed and obeyed. The 
man, who seemed a little intoxicated, 
gave Jt with a look of ludicrous 
triumph and self-importance. 

" Stand avay, man I" he added to 



the constable, who now laid hand on 
his collar—- "you 11 see vot the jndge 
says to that 'ere bit of paper ; and so 
vill the prisoner, poor fellow ! " 

This scene, so unworthy the dignity 
of the court, attracted the notice. and 
(immediately aroimd the intruder) 
the merriment of the crowd, and miany 
an eye was directed towards Brandon, 
as with cahn gravity he opened the 
note and glanced over the contents. 
In a large school-boy hand — ^it was 
the hand of Long Ned— were written 
these few words : 

" Mr Loan Junos, 

" I make bold to beg yon will do 
all yon can for the prisoner at the 
barre; as he is no other than the 
'Paul' I spoke to your Worship 
about. You know what I mean. 

"DUMMIB DuHKAKia." 

As he read this note, the judge's 
head was observed to droop, suddenly, 
as if by a sickness or a spasm ; but 
he recovered himself instantly, and 
whispering the officer who brought 
him the note, said, "See that that 
madman be immediately removed 
from the court, and lock him up 
dUme. He is so deranged as to be 
dangerous!" 

The officer lost not a moment in 
seeing the order executed.-' Three 
stout constables dragged the astounded 
Dummie from the court in an instant^ 
yet the more ruthlessly for his ejacu- 
lating— 

"Eh, sirs, what's thisi I tella 
you I have saved the judge's hown 
flesh and blood. Yy now, gently 
there ; you '11 smart for this, my fine 
fellow ! Never you mind, Paul, my 
arty : I 'se done you a pure good " 

"Silence!" procliumed the voice 
of the judge, and that voice came 
forth with so commanding a tone of 
power that it awed Dummie, despite 
his Intoxication. In a moment more, 
and, ere he had time to recover, he 



PAUL CLIFFOBD. 



378 



mm without the court During this 
Btrango hubbub, which nererthelesB 
Bcareely lasted abore two or three 
minuteBy the prisoner had not once 
lifted his head, nor appeared aroused 
in any manner from lUs rereiy. And 
scarcely had the intruder been with- 
drawn before the jury returned. 

The Ycrdict was as all had fore- 
seen,—" Guilty;" but it was coupled 
with a strong recommendaUon to 
mercy. 

The prisoner was then asked, in the 
usual form, whether he had to say 
anything why sentence of death should 
not be passed against him ? 

As Ihese dread words struck upon 
his ear; slowly the prisoner rose. He 
directed first towards the jury a brief 
and keen glance, and his eyes then 
rested full, and with a stem signi- 
ficance, on the face of his judge. 

" My lord," he began, ♦' I have but 
one reason to advance against the 
sentence of the law. If you have 
interest to prevent or njitigate it, 
that reason will, I think, suffice to 
enlist you on my behalf I said that 
the first cause of those offences against 
the law which bring me to this bar, 
was the committing me to prison on 
a charge of which I was wholly inno- 
cent I My lord judge, you were the 
man who accused me of that charge, 
and subjected me to that imprison- 
ment! Look at me well, my lord, 
and you may trace in the countenance 
of the hardened felon you are about 
to adjudge to death the features of a 
boy whom, some seven years ago, you 
accused before a London magistrate 
of the theft of your watch. On the 
oath of a man who has one step on 
the threshold of death, the accusation 
was unjust. And, fit minister of the 
laws you represent I you, who will 
now pass my doom, — ^rou were the 
cause of my crimes 1 My lord, I have 
done. I am ready to add another 
to the long and dark list of victims 
who are first polluted, and then I 
No. 38. ' 



sacrificed, by the blindness and the 
iigustice of human codes !" 

While Clifford spoke, every eye 
turned from him to the judge, and 
every one was appalled by the ghastly 
and fearfiil change which had &llen 
over Brandon's &oe. Men said after- 
wards, that they saw written there, 
in terrible distinctness, the characters 
of death ; and there certainly seemed 
somethii^ awful and prsetematural in 
the bloodless and haggard calmness 
of his proud features. Yet lus eye 
did not quail, nor the muscles of his 
lip quiver; and with even more than 
his wonted loftiness, he met the regard 
of the prisoner. But, as alone con« 
spicuous throughout the motionless 
and breathless crowd, the judge and 
criminal gazed upon each other ; and 
as the eyes of the spectators wandered 
on each, a thrilling and electric im- 
pression of a powerfol likeness between 
the doomed and the doomer, for tiie 
first time in the trial, struck upon the 
audience, and increased, though they 
scarcely knew why, the sensation of 
pain and dread wMch the prisoner's 
last words excited. Perhaps it might 
have chiefly arisen from a common 
expression of fierce emotion conquered 
by an iron and stem character of 
mind, or perhaps, now that the ashy 
paleness of exhaustion had succeeded 
the excited flush on the prisoner's 
face, the similarity of complexion thus 
obtidned, made the likeness more 
obvious than before ; or perhaps, the 
spectators had not hitherto fixed so 
searching, or, if we may so speak, 
so alternating a gaze upon the two. 
However that be, the resemblance 
between the men, placed as they were 
in such widely different circumstances 
— that resemblance which, as we have 
hinted, had at certain moments oc- 
curred startlingly to Lucy—was plain 
and unavoidably striking the same 
the dark hue of their complexions, 
the same the haughty and Boman 
outline of their £Aoes, the same the 

T 18 



m 



PAin[i^HiiPFOiD: 



a displeaamg aaA Mniilte ilgUUgr of 
nontiiy which wle tt» noat •osn- 
q^out ftatnre In Onnidmi, ^nd 
«faidi'irM«B 0^ poiBi ^ttu^^^tari- 
orAted from the ringriho' hinty «lf 
emud. Bat, abvPB an, the mum 
inflexible, de^ring, Htsbbom tfibikt, 
Unmgh in Bmndon it msaamA Hbm 
etately eaet of mdeelgr, end in OlllRird 
it seemed ihe deipenrte ■ I m iuii m ef 
tin bivTo, etamped iteeif <in hotfi. 
Though Giaford eMMeO, be did ndt 
mnnie his eeirt, hot fltood hi thermae 
iMtade m that hi idikh he had 
xovened the oider ef -^hingi, and 
merged the petitioner in -the Meneer. 
And Brandon himaeli; n^thontepeak- 
higorjno?ing, eon thi u ed ■etia te wo- 
vcy him. Bo, ivith erect frsnt^ end 
msrble eotrnt emm ee o ^ in whidi mktt 
ms de^^faig end leadnte did not 
eitogelher qnell the moKtd toMen ef 
pein end dieul, ihey looked ae might 
Imre looked. 4tio -tmo -nam in 4he 
flBBtem story, "Who laid the pamer of 
g—eiwg onch other nnte death. 

What^ at thfttmoBMBt^'waB lagfaig 
in Brandon^ lieart> *it is in =fBin to 
gueak Se doulHed not for amonunt 
laait he behtid befine hhn <hla long- 
tort, hhi asdoQB^ daauBded aonf 
Sveiyfihre^ every^ccmer-af hts-eom- 
pte and ^loon^soul^'tet oeiteinlgr 
naehed, and bhrtted with ia hideeos 
and ineiMible i^aae. Wk» 
periaips the strangest^ theogfa ^tfkan 
I9tt iNSt aiflcnowtedged prindi^ of 
his ndnd, ivarfiie desbreto Tehoild ifte 
fidlsn hoaonm of his hqiaw; its bMri> 
sdon he now b^eld before him, 
aofwed with the dflAust ignnmhiies 
<lf ^e hMTl f&e hadeeeeted waAdSj 
henoim; he behdd ^nfar legiti 
sneeearar hi a eemieledlblen! He 
had gamored <the 9ew aflMioaa he 
had apared fimn file dldMa^ttf ^ride 
and amMtioei, in las sol That aen 
htt was aboat to wQndgeinihe ^bet 
~ larngman ! Of Urte, Iw had 
the Impea df Tegahiiag^fahr 




Lo f^he hup es a iau i 
1 Howt With Iinae4h< 
waealngyin'iAat^ 

oaen by an 'apHhet teapnas^ irithm 
hhoB, wa^ 
on the honer ef « 
endured, wiuB he'heaad ? 
aeease BOH, as the aano'efiiiBiireaent 
doaai, and f A 'himaelf at anee ^he 
miadeaer aad'tiM jadge af :hls eon i 

Minntes had elapsed smce the Toka 
of "the priaonereaaasd ; aad Brandon 
new drew -fojth Idie black isap. Ab 
ho phaisd It idai^y owar hia luows^ 
the increadng and « euip ae Ji fce white- 
ness of lihiiboe baeaavsmnra ghuiiigly 
iMble, by tim anteast ^whidi this 
dread head^gear piaeautid. Twioe as 
he eaa^ad to i^eak his Toiae fiuied 
liim, and an T n*^i tflii*gt Muia e a r'gamo 
forth from hte !h»etoai lips, and died 
awi^ like a Mai and ibeble wind. 
Bat fnlOk 'tile third effort^ tiie Teeoin' 
tion and tong scH^fnaniy of tiie Joan 
eonipieiad^ and lik Taiae went aiear 
aad miftdteiing through Htm mawd, 
aManigh the aevave t s a eetoa a u of its 
wented twwBwasgqne^and it soaaded 
Btnoge and hollow on ^flve eara Hihat 
dmi&it. 

"Pkieoner at tlae ter1-^ haa 
beeome lE^ dniyto tamiaiinee to yon 
the dose- of yoor moHal aareer. Ton 
have been aaeased ofa^daxingiobbery, 
and, after jDiimparthd trial, a jmy 
df yaar eoiBitvymenmid-tiw towa tji 



yoa^ mieiecommaBdatBonto-merQy'* 
~4^er% onfy, .tiiffeaghaat hisHipecch, 
Brandon gasped eouvulaWoljr fcr 
l»«ath)—"ao>faamanely added lyf the 
jiiry,eluill'be Ibvwaided^'IfaafiupraBue 
power, 'bat I csanot flatter yon <-witii 
much hope- ef UsHRiooesB "— ^^le ^Urf- 
yars loiflML with seawauiprise at each 
other : they had eotpeeted a te more 
nnqndidad mandate, (to abjnre all 
hepe flfom *ihe Jaiy% xeeemme&dia> 
-6icm}n — ^"Prisonert for tbe ophiiofna 
.yen «h nf e ejLpia ss ed ,'yoa?a»e now cmly 



xjjjhmmvQSKO. 



271 



im^n I^MSL Jtar Ite okmge ym 
lutye made aguafll m^ iiHrtfcer tta» 
AT lUbn, Md iar ihe sa^piiflh tt has 
Infill me, ma^- ymi find fNnte «it 
4tiiitiier irlbfODal ! It renamm fat me 
flBljK-Huider a reserro toe 4digb^ as I 
limjttid, tosffiffid yon a > i »w"|B BB U B»B 
of hope--Hgnly:t D to 'i (a il^;yB8 me 
m Bnmdon: Jie f€iifcit» tBOCBEted Tilin- 
self for a last effort, and fiveeeded^ — 
te yrcmoitnoe on jon ike aharp aen- 
tflnoe of ibe iMT 1 ft ia^^ibatyo* te 
tiikon back to the fneon niienDO yoa 
eatte, and tiieBQe<^en<ke unprem e 
authority fihal appcuob) to i&e |daee 
of exeoatieB, to bo thoie fanned by 
tiuB aieck till yea aoo dead; and tluB 
iHVd God Almlgbty ha/n mescy en 
yonr soul 1" 

With ibis addwflB eoaaeAiided ^lat 
espontfol trial; wid wbale Hit cimfd, 
i& xuBhing «Bd neii^ toandt, bore 
toirards the deer, Brandon^ coimnaling 
to ihe last, -with a Spartan braTery, 
the aogniBh -which ivaBgnaioDg at Ids 
mAaaak, xetired from the anvftd par 
gfiant For the next half hour he 
was lodced up idth the etnage mtrn- 
ddr on &e feoceedmgi of ih% eoart. 
At tiie end. of Ibat tJDB 4he straugeEr 
iraa diemififled; and in afaont double 
the same period Bnndon^ iMsraat 
readmitted him, accooqMBiiedbyan- 
esttiermaa, withaeloBchedhat^iuid in 
a cmanan's frocic. The reader need 
not be told that Ite new-comer mm 
the fisendfy ll^^ed, whoie tnrtamoay 
mn indeed a valaable ocKi ribo B afi te to 
BttBunle^ and iihoae mganlte CK 
tbH, aided hy ansffntifee ftr aewavds, 
bad mtesed him to mntan te tiie 
toR^ of # * * *, aUioagh he taased 
oonoealedinaaab 
snredbya 
den^f oaMy to hk'fonnn, and a ettm 
fiir ^duoh we migfat 
niwyber he iraald aei h»re 
^knghadhe 
&r Ml ead) to be 

^eiaMd to iha Maila tiT 



^eee o oiiM o B i ta B, and nhoi ibef 
had ;fiiBflhod, he addraMwd Idiem 



" I have heard yea, and am oen^ 
isiaoed yoa am liare and imqpoeton : 
ihero is the money I pranStesd yMi^ 
— <thnmii^ down a poehot4)eok)— 
^'takeit^>--«&d, hatskyoa, af «imr yoa 
dare whisper — ay, but a bxeath of 4he 
lArooietaB tie yea ianrnwaw liNged, be 
earn i wJM hvre yon dxagged l^wm the 
reoess or nook of in&BD^fai which ycm 
may hide yo« heads, and hanged for 
ihecrimeeyoiihttve already commit- 
ted. I am not Ihe aaan to break my 
word— 4>^mie 1— ^qidt this town in- 
Btaatly : % in two hoars henoe, yoa 
are f(«ad hen, yoar Uood be on yoar 
own heads I — Begone, I aiQr I" 

These words,aided by a oountenanee 
weH adapted atsAl tunes toexpressions 
ef a menacing and ntlMess oharaeter, 
at once asteouded and appalled ihe 
accomplices. They left the room hi 
hasty eonfision ,* and Brandon, now 
alone, walked with imepron «teps (the 
abaadng weatoem »nd vaeilUtion of 
which he did not himself fsel) ^and 
fh> the apartment. ^Rbe hell ef his 
braast was stcasped iq>on his features, 
but he uttered o^ one thought aAoudi 

**! may,— yes, yes^— I may yet con- 
oeal tiode disj^noe to ny name ! ** 

Has eetwant tapped at the deer to 
sayihat lifae carriage was ready, «nd 
that JLord Maidowier had bid him 
remind his master tiuKt they dilned 
pnnetuaily at the henr ^^poiiited. 

''I am condag!" laid Brandon, 
with a slow and Btartlmgea|diBnB on 
eaehword. But he fbnt sat down and 
wxote a letter to the oflknd qnartei^ 
stFOBgfy andiag ihe Towmimendatien 
of the juiy ; and we may conceimhoir 
pdde ofamg'to him io ihe btA, when 
he orged ithe flabstitation for ^teath, 
of transportation/or UJkf As eeenaa 
behadeeaiad thisletter, he samasimed 
an ezpnoB, ga?e Us ofdera eoo^y and 
disfeinotly, and atteapted, miA, his 
usual stateiinesB of step,, to mHc 

t2 



87^ 



PAUL dilFFOBIX 



ihrongli a Imig ptange wliicli led to 
the onter door. He foimd hixnself &iL 
** Come hither," he said to his Krvaat 
— « give me your ana I " 

AU Brandon's domestical aave the 
one left with Liicy,stood in awe of him, 
and it was with some hesitation that 
Ills servant yentnred to inquire "if his 
master felt welL" 

Brandon looked at him, bat made 
no reply : he entered his carriage with 
alight difficnliy, and, telling the 
coachman to drire as &Bt as possible, 
polled down (a general custom with 
him) all the blinds of the windows. 

Meanwhile, I^rd HaoleTerer, with 
six friends, was impatiently awaiting 
the arrival of the seventh guests 

" Our august friend tarries !" quoth 
the bishop of , with his hands 
folded across his capacious stomach. 
''I fear the turbot your lordship spoke 
of may not be the better for the length 
of the trial." 

"Poor feUowr said the Earl 
of—, slightly yawning. 

"Whom do you meanT' asked 
Mauleverer, with a smile. ''The 
bishop, the judge, or the turbot 1" 

"Not one of the three, Mauleverer, 
—I spoke of the prisoner." 

" Ah, the fine dog I I forgot him," 
said Mauleverer. ''Beally, now you 
mention him, I must confess that he 
inspires me with great compassion;, 
but, indeed, it is veiy wrong in him 
to keep the judge so long ! " 

"Those hardened wretches have 
such a great deal to say," mumbled 
the bishop sourly. 

'' True I " said Mauleverer ; "a re- 
ligious rogue would have had some 
bowels for the state of the church 
esurient." 

** Is it really true, Mauleverer,"a8ked 
the Earl of — , " that Brandon U to 
succeed* ***3" 

"So I hear," said Mauleverer. 
** Heavens I how hungry I am I" 

A groan from the bishop echoed the 
complaint. 



''I nippoee it would be against aU 
deeoram tosit down to dinner without 
himrsaidliord . 

"Why, resUy, I fear so," returned 
Mauleverer. "Bat our health^-our 
health la at stake : we will only wait 
five minutes more. By JTove, tiiere'a 
the carriage ! I beg your pardon for 
my heathen oath, my lord bishop.* 

"I foigive youl" said the good 
bishop, smiling. 

The party thus engaged in colloquy 
were stationed at a window opening 
on the gravel road, along which the 
judge's carriage was now seen rapidly 
approaching ; this window was but a 
few yards from the porch, and had 
been partially opened for the better 
reconnoitring the approach of the 
expected guest 

*' He keeps the blinds down still ! 
Absence of mind, or shame at nn- 
punctuality— which is the cause, Maa« 
levererl" said one of the party. 

"Not shame, I fear!" answered 
Mauleverer. ** Even the indecent im- 
morality of delaying our dinner could 
scarcely bring a blush to the parch* 
ment skin of my learned friend." 

Here the carriage stopped at the 
porch ; the carriage-door was opened. 

" There seems a strange delay," said 
Mauleverer peevishly. "Why does 
not he get out 3 " 

As he spoke, a murmur among the 
attendants, who appeared somewhat 
strangely to crowd around the car- 
riage, smote the ears of the party. 

" What do they say ^— What 1 " said 
Mauleverer, putting his handtohisear. 

The bishop answered hastily ; and 
Mauleverer, as he heard the reply, 
forgot for once his susceptibility to 
cold, and hurried out to the carriage* 
door. His guests followed. 

They found Brandon leaning against 
the farther comer of ihe carriage-— a 
corpse. One hand held the check- 
string, as if he had endeavoured invo* 
luntarily, but ineffectually, to pull it. 
The right side of hiB fiice was partially 



PAUL CLIFFOBD. 



27T 



Storied, as byconvnlsion or paralysis ; 
but not safficiently so to destroy that 
remarkable expression of loftiness and 
seyerity which had characterised the 
features in life. At the same time, 
the distortion which had drawn up on 
one side the muscles of the mouth, 
had deepened into a startling broad- 
ness the half sneer of derision, that 
usually lurked around the lower part 
of his face. Thus unwitnessed and 
abrupt had been the disunion of the 
clay and spirit of a man, who, if he 
passed through life a bold, scheming, 
stubborn, nnwayering hypocrite, was 



not without something high even 
amidst his baseness, hlk.selfishnesSy 
and his. vices; who seemed less to 
have loved sin, than by some strange 
perversion of reason to have disdained 
virtue, and who, by a solemn and 
awful suddenness of /ate (for who shall 
venture to indicate the judgment of 
the arch and unseen Providence, even 
when it appears to mortal eye the 
least obscured t), won the dreams, 
the objects, the triumphs of hope, to 
be blasted by them at the moment 
of acquisition ! 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 



AFD LAST. 

% 

« Sabtle,~SiirIy.— It! 

Hot Ananias, Dapper, Drugger, all 
With whom I traded."— 2%« AlehemiiU 



i,Dol, 



As when some rural citizen— retired 
ibr a fleeting holyday, far from the 
cares of the world, " s6repUumque 
i?om<B,"* to the sweet shades of Pen- 
tonville, or the remoter plains of 
Clapham— conducts some delighted 
visitor over the intricacies of that 
Pndalian masterpiece which he is 
pleased to call his labyrinth or maze, 
^-now smiling furtively at his guest'^ 
perplexity, — now listening with calm 
Superiority to his futile and erring 
conjectures, — ^now maliciously accom- 
panying him through aflattering path, 
in which the baffled adventurer is 
suddenly checked by the blank fea- 
tures of a thorough&reless hedge, — 
now trembling as he sees the guest 
stumbling unawares into the right 
track, and now relieved, as he beholds 
him, after a pause of deliberation, 
wind into the wrong,— even so, 



• *• And the roar qf Borne," 



pleasant reader I doth the sage novel- 
ist conduct thee through the labyrinth 
of his tale, amusing himself with thy 
self-deceits, and spinning forth, in 
prolix pleasure, the quiet yam of his 
entertainment fh>m the involutions 
which occasion thy fretting eagerness 
and perplexity. But as when— thanks 
to the host's good-nature or fatigue t 
— the mystery is once unravelled, and 
the guest j)ermitted to penetrate even 
unto the concealed end of the leafy 
maze; the honest cit, satisfied with 
the pleasant pains he has already 
bestowed upon his visitor, puts hint 
not to the labour of retracing the 
steps he hath so erratically trod, but 
leads him in three strides, and 
through a simpler path, at once to 
the mouth of the maze, and dis- 
nuBseth him elsewhere for entertain- 
ment; even so will the prudent 
narrator, when the intricacies of his 
plot are once unfolded, occasion no 



m 



jtAxih cun^msf. 




WcaUl^tkeiifove^iB 

fouOi^ that pari oi 
vUck jti ranMBS 
]ifeui(d0a't f«BH»t WW fmmdikii 
4iiidi kad oonteined m fttel M 
llganaeof hkam; ani wfaaa lirani^ 
ta I^oni Manlarerar, Iht YOldaalaniak 
that penon (who knew BmnJ a ii huk 
been in searcli of his lost son, whom 
we have seen that he had been taught 
bowerer to sappoee illegitimate, 
though it ia probable that many 
doubts, whether he had not been 
deceived, must have occurred to his 
natural sagacity,) as sufficiently im- 
portant to be worth an inquiry alter 
the writer. Dummie was easily found, 
for he had not yet tuned Uaback on 
the town when the news of the judge's 
sudden death was brought back to it ; 
•fiii ift^ing advantage of that<Gircnmf 
■tausey the fidendly Dunnaker se» 
mainad altogether in the town (albeit 
ftis long companion deserted it aa 
haatUy as might be^ and whiled the 
tima by presenting himself at the 
gaol, and, after some ineifflctaaleflBorii» 
^™M>*"g his way ta- CliflBbxd; easily 
tauikedby thenamahfihadgiiven to 
ihe governor of the gaQ]9,ha. was con- 
ducted the same day to Loid Maul- 
efeier, and his nasrailTar confiised aa 
U was^ aad proceeding even from so 
soapiolous a quarter, thziUed those 
digestive oigaas^ which in Maulevezer 
stood proxy for a heaxt^. Urith feelmga 
as nmch resembling awe and honor 
as our good peer waa capable of exj^ 
liancdng. Already shocked fr«m his 
nwxldly philosophy of indiibrence by 
the deaUi of Braiidon, he waa more 
anaoepUble to a xemorseM and salu- 
taiy impcesuon at this moment than 
ha might have been at any othes: 
and he could not, without some 



twkgMOf 

laia kah^ 
<tf ^abai^ha ImI bist Jvi ] 
Mfted to tta ^alb. Ha diaa 
SlnBaaii^aiid,.aAK a Mliifr «0H 



to tl» €«• <tf Ua 
hasai effl 
^a haM^ ift paHtoniv,. <tf tiie { 

taiyof tl»] 



W« 



panitonl; bnfti ym vwtoM a 
thai ha aaight nat Kwa 



prisoner to a written one, had he not 
felt certain unpleasant qualms in 
remaining in a countiy house, over- 
shadowed by ceremonies so gloomy aa 
those of death. The letter of Brandon, 
and the application of Mauleverer, 
obtained for Clifford a relaxation of 
hi^Kutence. He was left for perpe- 
tnal tnnisportatiojL A ship waa 
already about to sdl, and Hauleverer, 
content with having saved his life, waa 
tgr BO means snxiona thai hi& do- 
partuxe from tha connizy should ba 
saddled with say saperflnowB delay. 

Keanwhiler ikA first rumoar thai 
reached London xaspecting BraBdoi)& 
&tawas».thaihehad been found iil a 
fit, and was lyiog dangftmnaly ill aft 
Hauleverar^s; aiid Im£>is the seaood 
and more fittaUy sum r^Kirt salved^ 
Loqr had gathered firam. the viable 
dianoay of Barlow, whom she anxiously: 
cress^uestionadK and who, xaally lov^ 
ing his masfanv was essily afibcted into 
commiinieation,. the first sad more 
flattering, intellignfis. To Barlow's 
secawt delight^, she inasted instantly 
qol setting off to the supposed siok. 
man; aad» aocompanied by Barlois^ 
and her woman, tha aflBbctionate giai 
haatasad to KanlflPeBer's house ooLtha 
evening, after the day the earl left it. 
Lucy had not proceeded &r befima 
Barlow leamedj^ from the gossip of the 
road, the real state of the case/ Li* 
deed, it was at the first stsge that^ 



PAVI» GLUTFOiBa/ 



m 



i^Ul ft iiiou»lhL«DiinliBUAo«, l» 99* 
pnaclied ifaedoorof tbeiOKnoage^ asid 

l^^nAiMtniiyy iliftiimtilky of pfCMttBdillgr 

ftrther, beggfid of Lncy to tuntbtek 
Sa BOOB 80 Hlai BMndoA bad ovei^ 
oome the finfrihoeltTfiiieli tidaiiKtel- 
%nu» gm» her, abai M&d^, with 
caimnMB, " Well, Buloi^.if it Wao, 
m havft still fr dulgr to peEfonu Tell 
tlw pQBtb<^ to dliye ont J " 

« Indeedy madanv I omuAieftiviiai 
Qttil OML lie ftttMdngpTWKBfllil— «Ad 
3Faa so poodyi. If jmnriUleiLfiMgD^ 
I will aeo oraiy- attentfon .pvbi to tbo 
ivmaiafr of my< poarmaitttf 

'^ Whfltt nr ftkthar k^ dMd/' atid 
Laqr^.with.' a gxaro md sadx Btanmeia 
in her mBonai; '^ha: idio ia now' no- 
more sent no> pRU^ to peiftam the 
laai diitie» oC » hfoiher^ neitker Will 
I lend one ta dlaahasgn- thoaa o£ &. 
nieeo^andtpgyraMiafcrl hate fc r g n U aa> 
the gntitudfr of a <h»gh<wn Ilm» 
00!" 

We &aa« said l^t then vm^tiniefr 
when.a.qKiitrwa8 siridtaarfinm Lney 
little oommai to her in ganflBai».aBd 
BOW the oommand of: hor vnele. iat>. 
upon her hooaw. OmtpodL the. hoxaa^ 



flUent. Her wonun did not dan to^ 
apeak. Ati langfth Hiaa Bnmdon 
Innied, and». ooferitigp her 6oe with 
her hands, burst into tears ao wkdeni 
that they-aianiaed: her altaiidanLoron 
Btore thflB har pecndoiia ntillnoim 
^'M.y pooi; poosrnnfllei'' aha aahbad*, 
and thoarwem:a&her woriik 

We amat paaa oswlaugr^ anmM 
Lord: MauleivniJB honaa^r-HMt nttab 
paaa oter- that- irmgjf dafs whieh 
abpaad till tint BneonMowhady 
eenaiflBod to <h«bwitii^ wfaid^ eonld 
it hanv jtt ntaiaad: ome^qMiic. o£ ita 
havghty spuit, itrwoiid have nAiaed 
to blend ita atone. She- had. kfmd 
the deeeaaed inoompara^bflonQBd hia 



to the oontraiy; aaKi all the.fozmafif 
ordinaiy eoatam^ahttiHteeaaed heraalf 
the 



the haauntieBniBa oC Wfllian Bnn^ 
den to iqKMHk and to the woroL On. 
thah aame di^ Gliffiurd reodved the 
mitigatlbn of his aentenoe^ and on,, 
that day anethor trials awaited. Lney. 
We think briefly to oonvcgr to the 
reader what' that aoene-waa; we need 
only obsenFe^ that Bianmie Donnakerii; 
deeoyed by hia great, lore fiir little. 
Pftul, whom he ddigbtedly said he: 
&nnd not the leaat " stnek vp by hia 
great fame and helewation," still lin^ 
gwed in the' tewi^.and was not only 
awan of the xelationahip of the 
oonafai% bat had) gleaned Ironic Long: 
Ned^ as thi^- Joncneyed down to* 
***^the,affectkNK entertained by 
CUffiuHLfiHt Lnog^. Of the manner in 
whiek the: <wmmwniBation readied 
Lm^.we nead net ai^aak :. suffice it to 
aajv that on^thftdair in< which she had 
perifooned the laa^ dn<gF to her nnekv 
A» learned^ ftr the^ fixat tlme^ Imt 
loFBT^aaitaaAient. 

On tfaat.ewaninfi. in the coiiYietSa 
odB». tfae^oooainft meL Their confexK 
eaee. WMb kci^ fi>s the* gaoler atood 
witiun hearing;: and ifewaabrokenlv 
Lnc/saooBFiilimaebai. BntthoToiee 
of ome^ whoaa:' inn mrres wue not 
nmRffthy of the offiqiiing of WHUam 
BKandoBiy was dear and aodible ta 
her easv ef«n thmigfa ntterad in a 
whiaper thai aearody stirred hia lipa^ 
It seemed aalf Lu<^, smlttoito Sie 
inmost heart by the generaaiti with 
whidi hanloverhad tomhimaelf fboni 
hfliv aithe time that her wealtiLBiglit 
haviefluaed.hAm^.inaBy other eoanks^ 
ftraheiethe peanhkand the odaeaQif 
hjeeareeninithifl^, pinmeiTiag now} 
fitt the finti tiMe,. and in aU thdv 
fiasee^. thfr caniwa of his myatahnis 
eondiiol^. metedi by their wrfationshiR 
and. faigBtting haiBelf nttedy in. the 
desolate and.dadK aitnation inwhieh 
die^ bdMM ciM who, what«rar his 
earner had noibean eriminaltoaraiidB 
her H^t aaemed an if^eanied away bf 
these emoticBiBy she hadyidded dto» 
gather to the luidnflBB and devotiMi 



280 



PATJL CLIFFOED. 



of lier nature, — ^thai she liad wished 
to leave home, and fHends, and for- 
tune, and share with him his punish- 
ment and his shame. 

«Why!"Bhefeltered; "why— why 
noti we are all that is left to each 
other in the world! Tour &ther 
and mine were hrothers, let me be 
to you as a sister. What is there 
left for me here? Not one being 
whom I love, or who cares for me — 
not one i ** 

It was then that Clifford summoned 
all his courage, as he answered : — ^per- 
haps , now that he felt — (though here 
his knowledge was necessarily con- 
fused and imperfect), — ^his birth was 
not tmequal to hen— now that he 
read, or believed he read, in her wan 
cheek and attenuated frame, that de- 
sertion to her was death, and that ge- 
nerosity and self-sacrifice had become 
too late, — ^perhaps, these thoughts 
concurring with a love in himself be- 
yond all words, and a love in her which 
it was above humanity to resist, alto- 
gether conquered And subdued him. 
Tet, as we have said, his voice 
breathed calmly in her ear, and his 
eye only, which brightened with a 
steady and resolute hope, betrayed his 
mind. " Live, then ! " said he, as he 
concluded. " My sister, my mistress, 
my bride, live I In one year from 

this day I repeat . . • • I 

promise it thee 1" 

The interview was over, and Lucy 
returned home with a firm stepi She 
was on foot ; the rain fell in torrents ; 
yet, even in her precarious state, her 
health suflEered not; and when within 
a week from that time she read that 
Clifford had departed to the bourne 
of his punishment, she read the news 
wiUi a steady eye and a lip that, if it 
grew paler, did not quiver. 

Shortly after that time. Miss Bran- 
don departed to an obscure town by 
the seaHside; and there, refusing all 
society, she continued to reside. As 
the birth of Clifford was known but to 



few, and his I^timaqr was nnsna- 
pected by all except, perhaps, by 
Mauleverer, Lu<^ succeeded ta the 
great wealth of her uncle, and this 
circumstance made her more thaa 
ever an object of attraction in the eyes 
of her noble adorer. Finding himself 
unable to see her, he wrote to her 
more thaa one moving epistle; but 
as hucy continued inflexible, he at 
length, disgusted by her wont of taste, 
ceased his pursuit, and resigned him- 
self to the continued sterility of un- 
wedded life. As the months waned^ 
Miss Brandon seemed to grow weary 
of her retreat; and immediately on 
attaining her nutjority, which she did 
about eight months i^r Brandon's 
death, she transferred the bulk of her 
wealth to France, where it was under- 
stood (for it was impossible that rumour 
should sleep upon an heiress and a 
beauty) that she intended in future 
to reside. Even Warlock (that spell to 
the proud heart of her uncle) she 
ceased to retain. It was offeied to 
the nearest relation of the fimuly at 
a sum which he did not hesitate to 
close with. And, by the common 
vicissitudes of Fortune, the estate 
of the ancient Brandons has now^ 
we perceive by a weekly journal, just 
passed into tiie hands of a woedthy 
alderman. 

It was nearly a year since Brandon's 
death, when a letter, bearing a foreign 
post-mark, came to Lucy. From that 
time, her spirits— whichbefore, though, 
subject to fits of abstraction, had been 
even, and subdued, not sad — ^roseinto 
all the cheerfulness and vivacity of 
her earliest youth; she busied herself 
actively in preparations for her depar- 
ture from this country ; and, at length, 
the day was fixed, and the vessel was 
engaged. Every day till that one, 
did Luey walk to the seanaide, and, 
ascending the highest clifi^ spend 
hours, till the evening closed, in 
watching, with seemingly idle gase, 
the vessels that interspersed the sea ; 



?AUL 0LIPFO»D, 



281: 



and villi every day her health seemed 
to strengthen^ and the soft and lucid 
colour she had onoe worn, to rebloom 
upon her cheek. 

Previous to her departure, Hiss 
Brandon dismissed her servants, and 
only engaged one female, a foreigner, 
to accompany her : a certain tone of 
quiet command, formerly unknown, to 
her, characterised these measures, so 
daringly independent for one of her 
sex and age. The day arrived — it 
was the anniversary of her last inter^ 
view wil^ Clifford, On entering the 
vessel, it was observed that she trem* 
bled violently, and that her face was 
as pale as death. A stranger, who 
had stood aloof wrapped in his doak, 
darted forward to assist her;--ihat 
was the last which her discarded 
and weeping servants beheld of her 
from the pier where they stood to 
gaze. 

Nothing more, in this country, was 
ever known of the &te of Lucy Bran- 
don; and as her circle of acquaint- 
ances was narrow, and interest in her 
&te existed vividly in none, save a few 
humble breasts, coxyecture was never 
keenly awakened, and soon cooled 
into forgetfulness. If it &voured, 
after the lapse of years, any one notion 
more than another, it was that she 
had perished among the victims of the 
French Revolution. 

Meanwhile, let us glance over the 
destinies of our more subordinate 
acquaintances. 

Augustus Tomlinson, on parting 
from Long Ked, had succeeded in 
reaching Cahus; and, after a rapid 
tour through the Continent^ he ulti- 
mately betook himself to a certain 
literary city in Germany, where he 
became distinguished for hia meta- 
physical acumen, and opened a school 
of morals on the Grecian model taught 
in the French tongue. He managed, 
by the patronage he received, and the 
pupils he enlightened, to obtain a 
vexy decent income; and as he wrote 



a folio against Locke, proved that 
men had innate feelings, and affirmed 
that we should refer every thing not 
to reason, but to the sentiments of 
the soul, he became greatly respected 
for his extraordinary virtue. Some 
littie discoveries were made after hi% 
deaths which, perhaps, would have 
somewhat diminished the general 
odour of his sanctity, had not the ad- 
mirers of Ms school carefully hushed 
up the matter, probably out of respect 
for " the sentiments of the soul ! " 

Pepper, whom the police did not so 
anxiously desire to destroy as they did 
his two companions, might have man- 
aged, perhaps many years longer, to 
graze upon the public commons, had 
not a letter, written somewhat im« 
prudentiy, fidlen into wrong hands. 
This, though after creating a certain 
stir it apparentiy died away, lived in 
the memory of tLe police, and finally 
conspired, with various peccadilloes, 
to produce his downfiill* He was 
seized, tried, and sentenced to seven 
years' transportation. He so advan- 
tageously employed his time at Botany 
Bay, and arranged things there so 
comfortably to himself, that> at the 
expiration of his sentence, he refused 
to return home. He made an excel- 
lent match, built himself an excellent 
house, and remained in '* the land of 
the blest" to the end of his days, 
noted to the last for the redundance 
of his hair, and a certain ferocious 
coxcombry of aspect. 

As for fighting Attie and Gentie* 
man Geoxge, for Scarlet Jem and for 
Old Bags, we confess ourselves des- 
titute of any certain information of 
their latter ends. We can only add, 
with regard to fighting Attie,-—'' Good 
luck be with him wherever he goes i" 
And for mine host of the ''Jolly 
Angler," that^ though we have not 
the physical constitution to quaff " a 
bumper of blue ruin," we shall be 
veiy happy, over any tolerable wine, 
and in company witii any agreeable 



PAxn^cnuDTPcaai^ 



mmtM/Xia/^U b«v •orpvitelh*^ 



M Bmm *m to GflntlflwnOMqp* CtadUan 

hto!- 

]ln.LoMl&itdif»MliU^]»Ii]te 
* Iamb : and Dwdim» Sonakar 
MtkaaA a li^oaa to cany oa- tito 
lMiaBeaaa«TluuQMB€MiiC He b oa ato d , 
to the Um(^ of liiB aeqaalBtoiiM mlii 
1b» gnat Captain Lo<v«ity and aflfttt^ 
a&bUily wilii whidi «lial» diatm- 
gnished pcfaonage to a atod hm. Stoiiea- 
lie iui^ too, aboni Jmdgo BnmAwi, 
bat w^ one. believed % tfUMI^ ef 
them; and Oomiiiie^ iiidigiiaitt a*rllto 
dfebeUef, ineraaaed, out of Taltaiane, 
the marrel of the atarlee: mita^ at 
length, what was added ahnoat awal^ 
lowed xxp what waa origiwd, and 
Stammie kimnif night huvt been 
pfoaded to mMy hia own esDeeienee 
to to what waa fidaa and what waetrae. 

The eiwfito Pater IEm Qtawler, 
retondng to Seolltoxd, dieappeaied Iqf 
the read-: » peraon, silkgiiliiriy leas 
bling the Bage, waa aftnrwaida aeon si 
Caittrie, when he dIadiHged! liie eae* 
M and piwaewoiihr dbtfea of Adk 
Eeidi* But whether or not this 
leqMoteble HmetieBaBxtaB^ovriden* 
tieal Simon Fuie, our ex-editor of 
«'The Aainaram * wo will set take* it 
upon ooffBelyea toaaaert. 

Lord Maiilof<ner, finally raaolTmg 
en a ainglolift, panied the remainder 
of hia jeace in indolent tnmqnilHtj. 
When he died, the newnpa pw a a aa ertod 
that hifr ICyeBtgi' waa deeply affiMted 
by the loaa of ao old' and Talned » 
fHend. Hia ftmdtare and winee aold 
lemarimbly high : and' a. CNreat Mm, 
hiapartieiilariiitiniatei who^punhaaed 
Ma hooka, atartled to find, hyt peneE 
marka, that the noble deoeaaed had 
lead acme <^ them, exebimed, not 
altogether without tvnthi— <"Ah I 
ITaulovaffermight hayebeen a> deueed 
alerer leUow,— tf he had liked itr 

The eari waa aoenatemedtoahow aa 
% euioaiigr »»i|r^gtoat;rahie, whidr 



hi niher ar i 

bievghthmitwllidi he ftmd to tntr- 
tain a aom of money, the ring' anB^ 
ttoned, and arleltor from thefn^oriona 
hofw^ hiwhiehtiwfcpoBeii^inbagk. 
ghig to ntnn hk^ loHU^ tfaft I 
of whiah he had AaMs 
rob* hntt, tfatohed' him^ wiHt i 



tef«mida him in not aaveal iag^ htr 
idmmf wfth Captain OBIIbid; anf 
Tantued, aa a' aDi^ teatimeny ef 
leapee^ te-endeae the afoieaaid ring* 
with the aoa retanied: 

About the tfrnoMaailoveterTeeeiywl' 
tlda eaxtooa ^usket^ aoveral'aneedatoB 
of a aimUar natose appeared is thr 
public jomnala; and it aeemed that 
LoTott had acted upon a geneiar 
principle' of xealitotion> — not alwa^^ 
itmnat be allowed, the eApring^'Of^ar 
robber^a repentance. While the itias 
weie marraOin^ at theae aneedotea^ 
080X0" the tardy nowa,^ that Lovet^' 
afterfrahig^ month'e aojoim' at hir 
ptoeo' of oondenmatiDn, had^ m thr 
moat darings and aingnTar mamwi; 
eflfteted^hireaeape. Whetlwr, in hia 
progreaavp the cuuntryy he* had been 
atarrec^ or dain by tite natives,— or 
whether; moie Ardtnato, he had nlti* 
mately^ fboi^ the* meana of eroBaing> 
theaBOBjweaaayetaiienown; There 
ended tiie adyentuee of the gallant 
robber;- md* lima, by a atiaage coin* 
ddenoe, the aame n^attoiy which: 
wrapped the &to of Lucy Imrolveif 
alao that ofher lo-ror. And herai, kind 
zeadiBK^ might wo'drop tiie cnrtain on 
our- clodng aoene^. did we nab tfaiide 
it might fdeaae tiiee to hold it- up yet 
Mtt-' moonnt, wbA giye tiieo' anotiier 
yiew of the woild bdiind. 

&»• a eertain town of that Qtvat 
CHMmtt^ wveie raoea u'^'unpernMsUw* 
polidledi^'aind' opitaibna are not pro- 
aeeatod^ tfieie leaided, twenty yenra 
aAer the Mo of Imcy Bnuidofa'« 



^'CMvCMiplate'Bdft '^atewefk tnf. 



TAXEU tSilTQfiDl : 



kfe hii^ aad: vaivanni mmgmlk, aoti 
pnil^ lor ilia. ]S6atilDdfr«£ hiK eondftel^ 
Itartfor the. eoa^ieftof kn ijwHmhI 
the pQipMeaf t8< iMbSl istm^ v»n 
diseciacL I£70iKadcacLid»ciilib»ted 

fi^il*^ wiloprQcixBadthfteslablisk* 
Bttnt oe thafc knq^ttiJ^I— ^ eUffoMkl *" 
iWlLo obtakud tiia sedxaai of Biifili.a 
public gTiflviaQeV-<<'€MiiBir Who 
struggled faat aanl won. sucb & popular 
benefit ^— " CliflEbrd ! " In the gentler 
part of his projects and his undertak- 
ings^ — ^in i£at part, above all, which 
concerned the sick or the necessitous, 
this useful citizen was seconded, or 
rather excelled, bj a being orer 
whose surpassing loreliness Time 
seemed to have flown with a gentle 
and charming wing. There was some- 
thing remarkable and touching in the 
lore which this couple (for the woman 
we refer to was Clifford's wife) bore to 
each other; like the plant on the 
plains of Hebron, the time which 
brought to that love an additional 
strength, brought to it also a softer 
and a freisher verdure. Although their 
present neighbours were imacquainted 
with the events of their earlier life, 
previous to their settlement at ****, 
it was known that they had been 
wealthy at the time they first came to 
reside there, and that, by a series of 
fiitalities, they had lost all : but Clif- 
ford had borne up manfully against 
fortune ; and in a new country, where 
men who prefer labour to dependence 
cannot easily starve, he had been 
enabled to toil upward through the 
severe stages of poverty and hardship, 
with an honesty and vigour of cha- 
xacter which won him, perhaps, a 
more hearty esteem for every succes- 
Aye effort, than the display of his lost 
riches might ever have acquired him. 
His labours and his abilities obtained 
gradual but sure success ; and he now 
ei\joyed the blessings of a competence 
earned with the most scrupulous inte- 



0iil^ oilspflBt wttb tiw lanfc kind^ 
kaaavohnn; A tnce of tiie 
idiuqjr hadipanMl tinniq^ was ( 
iUtt ia: saek; tiiaaa teials had I 
tbs lose. Item tho wife^s dieek^ aa< 
had mm antiiBfily manMos iarUtt 
kraadi htam q£ Cliflfood; There nam 
WHwa a n i te too> faai idliay wen oni^ 
BUBneBi% whfflufbe lottor sank from 
his wented elastic and healtUul ek60>^ 
jbIxmssl of mlnd^ mto a gloomyaad 
alMrtzacted remuy ; bat these nkomoiAa 
the wife watched with a jealous and 
fond anxiety, and one sound of her 
sweet voice had the power to dispel 
their influence: and when Clifford 
raised his eyes, and glanced from her 
tender smile around his happy home 
and his ^growing children, or beheld 
through file very windows of his room 
the public benefits he had created, 
something of pride and gladness 
glowed on his countenance, and he 
said, though with glistening eyes and 
subdued voice, as his looks returned 
once more to his wife, — " I owe these 
to thee!" 

One trait of mind especially cha- 
racterised Clifford,— indulgence to the 
faults of others! ''Circumstances 
make guilt," he was wont to say : "let 
us endeavour to correct the cireum- 
stances, before we rail against the 
guilt!" His children promised to 
tread in the same useful and honour- 
able path that he trod himself. Happy 
was considered that family which had 
the hope to ally itself with his. 

Such was the after-fate of Clifibrd 
and Lucy. Who will condemn us for 
preferring the moral of that &te to 
the moral which is extorted from the 
gibbet and the hulks 1— which makes 
scarecrows, not beacons; terrifies our 
weakness, not warns our reason. 
Who does not allow that it is better 
to repair than to perish, — ^better, too, 
to atone as the citizen than to repent 
as the hermit 1 John Wilkes! 
Alderman of London, and Drawcansir 
of Liberty, your life was not an iota 



tH 



PAUL CUFFOBB, 



too porfeeir-yonr potriolism mSglii 
lisf0 1)een infinitdy pmer,— jonr 
monlf would hsve admitted Sndefinite 
■mendment : yon an no great &yoiir« 
Uo with 118 or with the rest of the 
woild; but yon said one exodlent 
thing; for which we look on yon with 
benerolence, nay, almost with respect. 
We scarcely know whether to smile at 
its wit^ or to sigh at its wisdom. 
Kark tiiis truth, all ye gentlemen of 
England^ who wonld make laws as the 



Bomana made fa9te » a handle of 
rods with an axe in the middle ; mark 
it^ and remember I long may it Htc^ 
allied with hope in oandres, but with 
gratitnde in our children ; — ^long after 
the book which it now ^ adorns " and 
"pdnts" has gone to its dnsty alnm- 
ber^— longj long after the feverish 
hand whidi now writes it down can 
defend or enforce it no more : — " Tna 

TIBT W0B8I VSn TO WHICH TOV CA9 
PUT A TUM IB SO HAVO HDCl" 



NOTE. 
(Pagt 281.> 



Ik the teoond editloa of this nofd there 
were here inserted two **charaoter8* of 
«* Fighting Attie " and <• Gentleman George*" 
omitted in the mihaequent edition published 
hgr Hr. Bentlqr in the Standard JTwMlt. 
At the request of some admirers of those 
eminent pemnages, who oonsidered the 
biogiaphloal dcetofaes refezrad to impartial 
in themselves, and oontributing to the oom« 
Idetemess of the design for which men so 
iUnstrions were Introduoed* thej axe here 
xetainedr-thoogh In the more honourable 
ionn of aseparateandsupplementaiy notice^ 



FIGHTING ATTIB. 

When he dies, the road will have lost a 
great man, whose foot was rarelj out of hi« 
stirrup, and whose dear head guided a bold 
hand. He carried common sense to Its per- 
fection-:«ttd he made the straight path the 
Bublimest. ffia words were few, hi8aeti<ms 
were many. He was the Spartan of Toby- 
men, and laoonism was the short soul of his 
professional legislation I 

Whatever way you view him, yon see 
those properties of mind which commaiid 
fortune; few thoughts not oonfustaig eaioh 
other^-eimple elemental and bold. Hisohft> 
raoter in action may be summed in two 
phrases. ** a fact selced and a stroke made." 
Had his intelleot been more luxurious, his 
resolution might have been less hardy a nd 
bis hardiness made his greatnesa. He was 
one of those who shine but in action— ehim* 
neys (to adapt the simile of Sir Thomas 
More) that seem useless tiU you light your 
$xe» So in calm moments you dreamed not 
Of his utility, and only on the road you were 
■truck dumb with the outbreaking of his 
gnius. Whatever situation he was called 
to, you found In him what you looked for In 
fain In others; for bis atrong sense gave to 
Attie what long experience ought, but often 
fails, to give to Its possessors : bis energy 
triumphed over the iense of novel cSronnip 



staaoe, and he broke In a moment through 
the cobwebs which entangled lesser natures 
for years. His eye saw a final reralt, and 
disregarded the detalL Hexobbed hlsnaa 
without ohioanecy; and took his purse by 
applying for It, rather than scheming. If hla 
enfimies wUh to detract frtnn his merltr^ 
a merit great, daading, and yet soUdr-thef 
may, perhaps, say that his genius fitted hla 
better to oontinue eq^loits than to deviaa 
them; and thus that, besides the reofMm 
whidi he may Justly claim, he often wholly 
engrossed that fame which should have been 
shared by others; he took up the enterpdee 
where It ceased at Labour, and carried tt 
onwards, where It was rewarded with Qhuj, 
Even this dharge proves a new merit cf 
address, and lessens not the merit less eonu 
plicated we have allowed him before. Thi 
fame he has acquired may excite our amula* 
tion; the envy he has not appeased puty 
console us for obscurity. 

Af»eiPf**trti MfifJtafrm, 

TtfVT* V kfJtavawf iiJ^itv 
*0 «f rvv, xau u nXiv 

Tiiip.0^Tii.l.4I,«.« 



xstmrwrnxs georqe. 

For thee. Gentleman Oeorge, for thee, 
what oonclualTe valediction remains ? Alas I 
since we began the strange and mumming 
scene wherein first thou wert introduoed, 
the glim foe hath knocked thrioe at thy 
gates; and now,* as we writcf thou art 
departed thence— thou art no more I a new 
lord presides In thine eaqr ohair, a new voioa 



' ThoM, not too Tignrooslj.tniMlated bj Mr. WMt.-* 

•* Bnt wxmpt in error la the hnnum mind, 

AndlkanumbUMiseTeriaMcniet . ., ., 

Know we what fortone ihaU ramain behind ? 

Know we how long the present ibaU end«te ? « 

tInlSSO. 



M 



KOTBL 



riBgi from fhy niiRy board— fhon art for- 
gottan! thoa art alraadj Ilka thaw pagai, a 
tala that is told to a manBory that rotaineth 
not! Where are thj jnipa and eranka? 
where thy itatelyooxoomhrieB and thy regal 
gaoda? Thine hooae, and thy pagoda, thy 
Gothio ohimneyt and thy Ohfauae elgn-poit ; 
theie yet adc the oonoindlng hand: Ajr 
hand la oold; their oompletion, and the 
eDjoyment the oompletioa yieldi^ aito fbr 
another! Thou soweet, and thy follower 
reapa; thoa biUldest, thy a o oeea B o r holda; 
thou planteat, and thine heir aita beneath 
the ahadoir of thy treee;— 







tUthar eaaiathaWarrioriof the 

Ring—the Hefoee of the Groai^^ead thoa, 
their patron, wert derated on their liune: 
FrindpeifTO vUtoHd piyimwl cmmiUtpro 
prineip*,* What visiona aweep acroaiaa! 
What giorlea didat thoa witneea! Orw 
what oonqoaale dIdat thoa preaide ! The 
mightieat epooh-4he moat wonderfol erenfa 
wldoh the world, thp world, ever knew— of 
these waait not indee(l,and daoilng^ thine, 

**% fkn* ta« ttionpli aad pMftdu fte sale } " 

Xet the Boene ahift— Manhood la tonofaed 
by Age ; bat Loat la "heeled*' by Lozozy, 

an d i Tt wii p ^ thB^ B lr ^f 

a n i g i nd , in a l aaiof^oi 



lyid 4tetter 4hM <tD «ha<lMt. 



(a«nBid,t««olB% 
Thewafiiafty 



of thy frknda, and tfwcWMa'ef «to peoflB 
mfcoatthey^nndai^ eia wtea to <<»#■■ 
yealaliAtalpaeL laionjBt lapped in evaaM 
Ja4i rilkmon^ " 
thy high oA 




^aadTMlBiill«geq|qr1 Wlwi 
aaan look bai^ to «hy 1 




of which makea one apot (SFVt IdhartMi by 
Baohelor Bill) a haunted and a lidiy ground ; 
all whogatheredto that Jamida^oiiole, the 
Oiammontib and the BeanynOna, and the 
RoohefimcfiiltB of England and the ftoad,— 
who doee not Jeel thatioduMe aaen theae, 
though bat^M-CULBlaeaMrthefettiTltleaof 
his '■Men, from tbaaideboaid and behind 
the diair, would have been a triumph for 
the earthlier feeUqgaof hia44d^ps to recall? 
What, then, must It have been to hate 



halghi^tber youth, ■adjoiMC ami aatfk 
0b»4aKiy wert thou ks0par4on9alilo).«Bd 




Let the scene shift.— Bow attningJsiha 
--- le r Triumph, and gutter, and oon- 
1 Vm fhy paHBo waa m pilbDo of 



fcLwiiw^gJto3S3T5«?S 



lH«|,~wf« HwiurtaAa 



thiering with thee took a substantial shape, 
and the robberies of the publio passed into 
a metempifillMBBlB Of vartar, nnd became 
pubUo-houaes. So there and thus, building 




hatre worshipped tl^ 1 

shipped th■B:^•4Ht te wonlfl mati And 




I Jbr <te ' 



NOTE. 



w aUkahow men mdler, and ain, and perUi 
^toHlafeory we leaTe the snm and balance 
of ihy merlta and th J ftmltai The dna that 
wen thine were those of the man to whom 
pkaanieisallinall: then wert, from root to 
teanoh, aap and In heart, what moralista 
term the libertine; henoethe light wooing,the 
qniok doeertton, the broken faith, the organ- 
iied perfidy, that manifested thj bearing to 
those gentler oreatnres who called t he e 
< Gentleman George.' Never, to one soUtaxy 
woman, nntn the last dull flame of thy 
dotage, didst thou so behave as to glye no 
fomidation to complaint, and no roioe to 
wrong. But who shall say be honest to oneb 
bat laugh at perfidy to another r Who shall 
wholly confine treachery to one sex, if to 
that sex he hold treachery no ofllencer So 
in thee, as in all thy tribe, there was a lax- 
nesB of principle^ an insincerity of faith, 
even unto men :— thy fHends, when occasion 
soitsd. thou couldst forsake ; and thy luxu- 
ries were dearer to thee than Justice to 
those who supplied them. Men who love 
and live for pleasnre as thou are usually 
good-natured ; for their devotion to pleasure 
arises fhnn the strength of their constitu- 
tion, and the strength of their constitution 
preeerves them from the irritations of weaker 
nervea; so wert thou good-natured, and 
often generous ; and often with thy gener- 
osity didst thou unite a dellcaoy that showed 
Ihouhadst an original anda tender sympathy 
with men. But as those who pursue plea- 
snre are above all others impatient of inter- 
mptian, so to such as interfered with thy 
main pursuit, thou didst testify a deep, a 
lasting, and a r evenge f ul anger. Yet let 
not such Tices of temperament be too se- 
verely Judged I For to thee were given 
man's two most persuadve tempters, physi- 
cal and moralT-Health and Power I Thy 
talents^ such ti» they were— and th^ were 
tiie talents of a man of the worid-mialed 
rather than guided thee^ lor th^ gave thy 
mind that demi-philosophy, that indiflTerence 
to exalted motives which it generally found 
in a (doTer raka Thy education was 
wretched; thou hadst a smattering of Ho- 
race, but thou couldst not write BngUsh, 



and thy letters betray that thou wert wo- 
fally ignorant of logic. The fineness of thy 
taste has been exaggerated ; thou wert un- 
acquainted with the nobleness of simplicity ; 
thy idea of a whole was grotesque and over- 
loaded, and thy fancy in details was gaudy 
and meretricious. But thou hadst thy 
hand constantiy in the public purse, and 
thou hadst plans and advisers for ever be- 
liore thee; more than all, thou didst find the 
houses in that neighbourhood wherein thou 
didst buUd, so prctematuraUy hideous, that 
thou didst require but little science to be 
less frightfol in thy creations. If thou didst 
not improve thy native village and thy va- 
rious homes with a solid, a lofty, and a noble 
taste, thou didst nevertheless very singularly 
improve. And thy posterity, in avoiding 
the faults of thy masonry, will be grateful 
for the eflRBCts of thy ambition. The same 
demi-phflosophy, which infiuenoed thee in 
private life, exercised a far benigner and 
happier power over thee in public. Thou 
wert not idly vexations in vestries, nor ordi- 
narily tyrannic in thy pariah ; if thou wert 
ever arbitrary, it was only whoi thy plea- 
snre was checked, or thy vanity wounded. 
At other times, thou didst leave events to 
their legitimate course^ so that in thy latter 
yeara thou wert Justly popular in thy pariah; 
and in thy grave, thy great good fortune will 
outshine thy few bad qualities, and men will 
ssy of thee with a kindly, nor an erring 
Judgment^— *<Ih private life he was not 
worse tiian the Bufltors who came to this 
bar ; in public life he was better than those 
who kept a public before him."— Hark I 
those husMM I what ia the burthen of that 
6h(nrns?— Oh, gratefU and never time- 
serving BjAtODB, have ye modified already for 
another the song ye made so solely in 
honour of Gentleman George; and must 
we^ lest we lose the oustom of the public^ 
and the good things of the tapnxnn, must we 
roar with throats yet hoarse with our fer- 
vour for the old words^ our ardour for the 



" Han '■ to ir«rJMr BiO; God bkH him ! 

GodblesiUmI 

OodbleMhtanl 

Hotb'i to Mmimn Bill, Go4 blc« him I 



TOMLINSONIANA; 

OK, 

THE POSTHUMOUS WRITINGS 

OF THE CBLKBRATKD 

AUGUSTUS TOMLINSON, 

rB07B««0B or MOBAL PHIMIOPHT JV TKB VBITBBIITT OF 

ADDRESSED TO HIS PUPILS: 

AND COMPRISING 



XAXXXI Off THB POPOIAB ABT OP CBBATIHO, TLLVITBATBO BT TBff CHABACTEBI ; BBXff». 

All IHTBODVCTIOIf TO THAT IfOBLB ICtEBCB, BT WHICH BVBBT 

XAB MAT BBCOMB HI! OWB BOOOB. 

II, 
BBACBTLOeiA; OB, X»AT«, CBXTICAL, IBHninffTAl, MOBAI., ABB OBIOIBAI.^ 



No. 39. U Id 



INTRODUCTION. 



Hating lately been trayelling in Germany, I spent some time at that 
University in which Augustas Tomlinson presided as Professor of Moral 
Philosophy. I found that that great man died^ after a lingering illness, 
in the beginning of the year 1822, perfectly resigned to his fate, and 
conyersing, even on his death-bed, on the divine mysteries of Ethical 
Philosophy. Notwithstanding the little peccadilloes, to which I have 
alluded in the latter pages of Paul Cliffbrd, and which his pupils 
deemed it advisable to hide from 

«' The gaudy, babbling, and remondai day," 

his memory was still held in a tender veneration. Perhaps, as in the 
case of the illustrious Bums, the faults of a great man endear to you 
his genius. In his latter days the Professor was accustomed to wear a 
light-green silk dressing-gown, and, as he was perfectly bald, a little 
black velvet cap ; his small-clothes were pepper and salt These inte- 
resting facts I learned from one of his pupils. His old age was consumed 
in lectures, in conversation, and in the composition of the little moT' 
eeaux of wisdom we present to the public. In these essays and maxims, 
short as they are, he seems to have concentrated the wisdom of his 
industrious and honourable life. With great difficulty I procured from 
his executors the MSS. which were then preparing for the German 
press. A valuable consideration induced those gentlemen to become 
philanthropic, and to consider the inestimable blessings they would 
confer upon this country by suffering me to give the following essays to 
the light, in their native and English dress, on the same day whereon 
they appear in Germany in the graces of foreign disguise. 

At an age when, while Hypocrisy stalks, simpers, sidles, struts, and 
hobbles through the country, Truth also begins to watch her adversary 

u2 



202 INTRODUCTION. 

in eveiy moYement, I cannot but think these lessons of Augustas 
Tomlinaon peculiarly well-timed. I add them as a fitting Appendix 
to a Novel that may not inappropriately be termed a Treatise on 
Social Frauds, and if they contain within them that evidence of diligent 
attention and that principle of good, in which the satire of Vice is 
only the germ of its detection, they may not, perchance, pass wholly 
unnoticed ; nor be even condemned to that hasty reading in which 
the Indifference of to-day is but the prelude to the Forgetfulness of 
to-morrow. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGJE 

Maxims on thb Fopulab Abt of Chxatino, illustrated by Ten 
Characters; being an Introduction to that noble Science, by 
which every Han may become his own Bogue . . .295 

B&ACHTLOaiA : 

On the Morality taught by the Bich to.the Poor . . . 303 

Emulation « 304 

Caution against the Scoffers of Humbug '' . . . . 304 
Popular Wrath at Individual Imprudence . . . .304 

Dum defluat Amnifl ,..,..., 304 

Self-Glorijaers . . 305 

Thought on Fortune 305 

Wit and Truth 305 

Auto-theology 305 

Glorious Constitution 305 

Answer to the Popular Cant that Goodness in a Statesman is 

better than Ability 305 

Common Sense 305 

Love, and Writers on Love 306 

The Great Entailed 307 

The Begeneration of a Knave 307 

Style 307 



MAXIMS 

ON 

THE POPULAR ART OP CHEATING, 

ILLUSTRATED B7 TSN OHABACTSBS: 



BBiiia AM niTBOsucnoif *o that moslb scnucB, bt wbicb btbbt mam 

MAT BKCOMB BXS UWM BO«UB. 



« Set a thief to catch a thief."— ProifM>ft. 



WnsNEVKB you are about to utter 
something astonishingly Jblse, always 
begin with, "It is an acknowledged 
fact," &C. Sir Bobert Filmer was a 
master of this method of writing. 
Thus with what a solemn &oe that 
great man attempted to cheat 1 '*It 
is a tnUh undeniable that there can- 
not be any multitude of men whatso- 
ever, either great or small, &c.— but 
that in the same multitude there is 
one man amongst them that in nature 
hcUh a right to be King o/dUthe rest 
— as being the next heir to Adam! ** 

n. 
When you want something firom 
the public, throw the bUune of the 
asking on the most sacred principle 
you can find. A common beggar 
can read you exquisite lessons on ^ob 
the most important maxim in the art 
of popular cheating. '* For the love qf 
Ood, sir, a penny ! " 

in. 
Whenever on any natter, moral, 
a^timental, or . political, you find 



yourself utterly ignorant, talk imme- 
diately of "The Laws of Nature." 
As those laws are written nowhere,"' 
they are known by nobody. Should 
any ask you how you happen to know 
such or such a doctrine as the dic- 
tate of Kature, clap your hand to your 
heart and say, " Here ! " 

IV. 

Yield to a man's tastes, and he will 
yield to your interests. 



When you talk to the half-wise, 
twaddle ; when you talk to the igno- 
rant, brag; when you talk to the 
sagacious, look veiy humble, and ask 
their opinion. 

VL 

Always bear in mind, my beloved 
pupils, that the means of livelihood 
depend not on the virtues, but the 
vices of others. The lawyer, the 
statesman, the hangman, the physi- 
cian, are paid by our sins ; nay, even 
the commoner professions, the tailor. 



«Lo6ka. 



296 



TOHLINSOKUNA. 



the coaclimaker, the upholsterer, the 
wine merchant, draw their fortunes, if 
not their existence, from those smaller 
Tices — our foibles. Yanity is the 
figure prefixed to the ciphers of Ke- 
oeasity. Wherefore, 0, my beloved 
pupils 1 neyer mind what a man's 
virtues are ; waste no time in learning 
them. Fasten at once on his infinn- 
ities. Do to the One as, were you an 
honest nutn, you would do to the 
Many. This is the way to b^ a rogue 
individually, as a lawyer is a rogue 
professionally. Knaves are like critics* 
— " flies that feed on the sore part, 
and would have nothing to live on 
were the body in health." t 



Every man finds it desirable to have 
tears in his eyes at times— one has a 
sympathy with humid lids. Provi- 
dence hath beneficently provided for 
this want, and given to every man, 
in Its diviioe forethought, misfortunes 
painful to recall. Hence, probably, 
those human calamities which the 
atheist rails agunati Wherefore, 
when you are uttering some affecting 
sentiment to your intended dupe, 
think of the greatest misfortune you 
ever had in your life ; habit will aoon 
make the association of tears and that 
meUmcholy remembrance constantly 
felicitous. I knew, my dear pupils, 
a .most intelligent Frenchman, who 
obtained a charming lega<7 from an 
old poet by repeating the bard's verses 
with streaming eyes. ^How were 
you able to weep at will?" asked I 
(I was young then, my pupils). "j^6 
peiuaie" answered he, " d monpatwre 
pin qui mt mort,"t ^^^ union of 
aentiBMnt with the alolity of swind- 
ling made that FrenAhnum a most 
•fiHcinating' cretture 1 



^ifuUimi ijoaaSkd sit qaod idaww^JBrf ftor. 

tTktlor. 

i IiuedtotU&kofiiiypoorfiilhcrwhoiB 



Kever commit the error of the over- 
shrewd, and deem human nature worse 
than it is. Human Nature is so 
damnably good, that if it were not for 
human Art we knaves could not live. 
The prinuuy elements of a man's 
mind do not sustain us — ^it is what 
he owes to " the pains taken with his 
education," and '<the blessings of 
civilised society !" 

IX. 

Whenever you doubt, my pupils, 
whether your man be a quack or not, 
decide the point by seeing if your 
man be a positive asserter. Nothing 
indicates imposture like confidence. 
Yolney* saith well, " that the most 
celebrated of charUitansf and the 
boldest of tyrants begins his extraor- 
dinary tissue of lies by these words, 
' There is no doubt in this book !"* 



Th«re is one way of dheatix^ people 
peculiar to the BzitiBh IbIsb, Mud 
which, my pupils, I earnestly Teoom- 
mand jdu to import hither— cheating 
by subacriptioa. People ISke to be 
plundered in company; dupeiythen 
grows into the spirit (tf party. Tbns 
(me quack very gravely requested 
persons to fit up a ship for him and 
send him round the world as its cap- 
tain to make discoveries, and another 
patriotically suggested that 10,0002. 
should be subscribed— for what I — ^to 
place him in Parliament! Neither 
of theiae fellows could have screwed 
an individual out of a shilling had he 
asked him for it in a corner; but a 
printed lis<^ '^ with His Royal Higli- 
ness " at the top, pliqrs the devil with 
Bnglish guineas. A subscription for 
individufllsmaybe considered a society 
for the ostentatious enconragemeitt 
of idleness, impudence, beggary, im- 
posture, — ^and other public virtues ! 



TOMLIKSOITIAirA. 



297 



Whenever yon read the life of a 
great man, I mean a man eminenUy 
Bnccessful, you will perceive all the 
qualities given to him are the qua- 
lities necessary even to a mediocre 
rogue. "He possessed/' saith the 
biographer, "the greatest address 
[viz. the &culty of wheedling] ; the 
most admirable courage [viz. the 
fiKuIty of bullying] ; the most noble 
fortitude [viz. the fiumlty of bearing 
to be bullied]; the most singular 
versatility [viz. the &enlty of saying 
one thing to one man, and its reverse 
to another] ; and the most wonderful 
command over the mind of his con- 
temporaries [viz. the &cttlty of vie- 
•tinusing their purses or seducing their 
actions]." Wherefore, if luck cast you 
in humble life, assiduously study the 
biographies of the great, in order to 
accomplish you as a rogue ; if in the 
more elevated range of society, be 
thoroughly versed in the lives of the 

roguisih, ^so shall you £t youzself 

■to be eminent ! 

xn. 

The hypocrisy of virtue, my bdoved 
pupils, is a little out of fuhion now- 
adays ; it is sometimes better to aflEect 
the hypocrisy of vice. Appear gene- 
rously profligate, and swear with a 
hearty &ce, that you do not pretend 
.to be better than»the generalily of 
your neighbours. Sincerity is not 
less a covering than lying; a frieze 
great eoat wraps yon as well aa a 
/Spanish cloak. 

xni. ! 

When you are about to execute 
some great plan, and to defraud a 
numbor of persons, let the first one or 
-two of the allotted number be the 
cleverest, shrewdest feUows you can 
find. Ton have then a reference that 
will alone dupe the rest of the world. 
"That Mr. Lynx is satisfied," wiU 
amply suffice to satisfy Mr. Mole of 
the honesty of ^oor intentions! Nor 



are shrewd men the hardest to take 
in; they rely on their strength; invul- 
nerable heroes are neeeraarily the 
bravest Talk to them in a business- 
like manner, and refer your design at 
once to their lawyer. My friend, John 
Shamberry, was a* model in this grand 
Btn^e of art He s¥randled twelve 
people to the tune of some thousands, 
with no other trouble than it first cost 
him to swindle — whom do you think 1 
the Secretary to the Society for the 
Suppression of Swindling ! 

XIT. 

Divide your arts into two classes : 
those which cost you little labour — 
those which cost much. The first, — 
flattery, attention, answering letters 
by return of post, walking across a 
street to oblige the man you intend to 
ruin ; all these you must never neglect 
The least man is worth gaining at a 
small cost And besides, while you 
are serving yourself, you are also 
obtaining the character of civility, 
diligence, and goodnature. But the 
arts which cost you much labour—^ 
long subservience to one testy indi- 
vidual; aping the semblance of a 
virtue, a quality, or a branch of 
learning which you do not possess, to 
a person difficult to blind— all these, 
never begin except for great ends, 
worth not only the loss of time, but 
the chance of detection. Great pains 
for small gains is the maxim of the 
miser. The rogue should have more 
grandeur d^dme/* 

XV. 

^Always fi>rgive. 

XTL 

If amon owe yon a sum of money 
— ^pils though you be of mine, you 
may once in your lives be so ally as 
to -lend)-— and you find it difficult to 
get it back, app^, not to his justice, 
but his charity. The eomponents of 



298 



TOKLINSONIAKA. 



justice ilfttter few men! Wlio likes 
to sabmit to an inooiiTeiiieiioe becMue 
he ought to do it t— without praise, 
without even self-gratnlation 1 But 
charity, my dear friends, tickles up 
human ostentation deliciousiy. Cha- 
rity implies superioxity; and the 
feeling of superiority is most grateful 
to social nature. Hence the com- 
monness of charily, in proportion to 
other TirtueSy all oyer tiie world ; and 
hence you will especially note, that 
in proportion as people are hwighty 
and arrogant will tiiey laud alms- 
giying and encourage charitable insti- 
tutions. 

xyn. 

Your genteel rogues do not suffi- 
ciently obsenre the shrewdness of the 
yulgar ones. The actual b^^gar takes 
adyantage of eyery sore ; but the moral 
swindler is unpurdoni^Iy dull as to 
the happiness of a physical infirmity. 
To obtain a &your — neglect no 
method that may allure compassion. 
I knew a worthy curate, who obtained 
two livings by the felicity of a hectic 
cough; and a younger brother, who 
sub^ted for ten years on his fiunily 
by yirtue of a slow consumption. 

xyra. 
When you want to possess yourself 
of a small sum, recollect that the 
small sum be put into juxta-position 
with a great I do not express myself 
clearly — ^take an example. In Lon- 
don there are sharpers who adyertise 
70,0002. to be advanced at four per 
cent., principals only conferred with. 
The gentieman wishing for such a sum 
on mortgage, goes to see the adver- 
tiser ; the advertiser says he must run 
down and look at the property on 
which the money is to be advanced; 
his journey and expenses will cost him 
a mere trifle — say twenty guineas. 
Let him speak confidentiy— let the 
gentieman yery much want the money 
at the interest stated, and three to one, 



but our sharper gets the twenty gni- 
neai^ so paltiy a sum in comparison to 
70,0002. though so serious a sum had 
the matter rdated to half-pence ! 



Lord Coke has said, "To trace an 
error to its fountain-head is to refute 
it." Now, my young pupils, I take it 
for granted that you are interested in 
the preservation of error ; you do not 
wish it, therefore, to be traced to its 
fountain-head. Whenever, then, yon 
see a sharp fellow tracking it up, you 
have two ways of settling the matter. 
Ton may say with a smile, "Nay, now, 
air, you grow speculative — I admire 
your ingenuity ;" or else look graye, 
colour up, and say— "I fimcy, sir, 
there is no warrant for this assertion 
in the most sacred of all authorities f ' 
The Devil can quote Scripture, yon 
know, and a yery sensible Devil it is 
too! 



Bochefoucault has said, " The hate 
of &vourites is nothing else but the 
love of fitvour." The idea is a littie 
cramped; the hate we bear to any 
man is only the result of our love 
for some good which we imagine he 
possesses, or which, being in our pos- 
session, we imagine he has attacked. 
Thus envy, the most ordinary species 
of hate, arises from our value for the 
glory, or the plate, or the content we 
behold ; and reyenge is bom from our 
regard for our fame that has been 
wounded, or our acres molested, or our 
rights invaded. But the most noisy 
of all hatreds is hatred for the rich, 
from love for the riches. Look well 
on the poor devil who is always rail- 
ing at coaches and four I Book him 
as a man to be bribed ! 

xxr. 
My beloyed pupils, few haye yet 
Buffidentiy studied the art by which 
the practice of jokes becomes subaer> 



TOMLINSONIANA. 



299 



▼ient to the Bcienoe of swindlers. The 
heart of an inferior is always &8cinated 
by a jest. Men know this in the 
knavery of elections. Know it now, 
my pnpUsy in the knavery of life ! 
When yon slap yon cobbler so affec- 
tionately on the back it is yonr own 
fiiult if yon do not' slap your purpose 
into him at the same time. Note how 
Shakspeare (whom study night and 
day — ^no man hath better expounded 
the mjrsteries of roguery!) causes his 
grandest and mostaocomplished villtun, 
Bichard III., to address his good 
friends, the murderers, with a jocular 
panegyric on that hardness of heart on 
which, doubtless, those poor fellows 
most piqued themselves— 

■* Your eyes drop millstones, where fooU* 
eyes drop tears— 
I like you, lads I" 

Can*t you &ncy the knowing grin 
with which the dogs received this 
compliment, and the little sly punch 
in tiie stomach with which Bichard 
dropped those loving words, '^ I like 
you, lads ! " 

zxn. 
As good-nature is the characteristic 
of the dupCj so should good-temper be 
that of the knave ; the two fit into 
each other like joints. Happily, 
good-nature is a Narcissus, and falls 
in love with its own likeness. And 
good-temper is to good-nature what 
the Florimel of snow was to the Flo- 
rimel of flesh — an exact likeness made 
of the coldest materials. 

xxin. 

BBIKG THB PRAISH OF ENAVEBT. 

A knave is a philosopher, though a 
j>hilo8opher is not necessarily a knave. 
W hat hath a knave to do with pas- 
sions? Every irregular desire he 
must suppress ; every foible he must 
weed out ; his whole life is spent in 
the acquisition of knowledge: for 
what is knowledge ?— the discovery of 



human errors ! He is the only man 
always consistent, yet ever examining ; 
he knows but one end, yet explores 
every means; danger, ill-repute, all 
that terrify other men, daunt not 
him ; he braves all, but is saved from 
all : for I hold that a knave ceaseth to 
be the knave — he hath passed into 
the fool — ^the moment mischief be&ls, 
him. He professes the art of cheat- 
ing; but the art of cheating is to cheat 
without peril. He is i&re» et rotundus,, 
strokes fly from the lubricity of his 
polish, and the shift ings of his circular 
formation. He who is insensible of 
the glory of his profession, who is 
open only to the profit, is no disciple 
of mine. I hold of knavery, as Plato 
hath said of virtue— " Could it be 
seen incarnate, it would beget a per- 
sonal adoration!" None but those 
who are inspired by a generous enthu- 
siasm, will benefit by the above 
maxims; nor (and here I warn you 
solemnly from the sacred ground, till 
your h^ be uncovered, and your 
feet be bared in the awe of venera- 
tion,) enter with profit upon the fol- 
lowing descriptions of character — that 
Temple of the Ten Statues— wherein 
I have stored and consecrated the 
most treasured relics of my travelled 
thoughts and my collected experience. 

TBB OHABAOTBBS. 
I. 

The mild, irresolute, good-natured, 
and indolent man. These qualities 
are accompanied with good feelings, 
but no principles. The wont of firm- 
ness evinces also the want of any 
peculiar or deeply-rooted system of 
thought. A man conning a single 
and favourite subject of meditation, 
grows wedded to one or the other of 
the opinions on which he revolves. 
A man universally irresolute, has 
generally led a desultory life, and 
never given his attention long toge- 
ther to one thing ; this is a man most 
easy to cheat, my beloved friends ; 



soo 



TOKLINBCnnAJrA. 



ym di6ftt liini even wKh his c^sb 
open: iiid<deiioe Is dearer to him than 
aU things, and if jnm get him alone 
and pot a qnestien to him point 
blank — ^he cannot answer. If o. 



The timid, Bnspidons, selfisli, and 
eold man. Geaenllj, a eharaeterof 
this description is an eoEoeUent man of 
bnsiness, and wonld, at first sight, 
seem to baffle the most ingenions 
swindler. Bat yon have one hope— I 
hare rarely fomid it deeave me— 4his 
man is nraally ostentatioos. A cold, 
a fearful, yet a worldly person, has 
erer an eye npon others; he notes 
the effect certain things prodnce on 
them; he is anzions to learn their 
opinions^ that he may not trsnsgress; 
he likes to know what the world say 
of him ; nay, his timidity makes him 
anzions to repose his selfishness on 
their good report Hence he grows 
' ostentations, likes that effect which is 
fikvonrably talked of, and that show 
which wins consideration. At him on 
this point, my pupils I 



The meUmcholy, retired, senrative, 
intellectual character. A yeiy good 
subject this for your knayeries, my 
young friends; though it requires 
great discrimination and delicacy. 
This character has a considerable por- 
tion of ^morbid suspicion and irrita- 
bility belonging to it-^against these 
yon must guard — ^at the aame time, 
its prevalent feature is a powerful, but 
unacknowledged vanity. It is gene- 
rally a good opinion of himself ^d a 
feeling that he is not appreciated by 
others, that make a man reserved : he 
deems himself unfit for the world 
because of the delicacy of his tempera- 
ment, and the want of a correspondent 
sensibility in those he sees 1 This is 
yomr handle to work on. Heispecu- 
Iwriy flattered, too, on the score of 
devotion and affection ; he exacts in 



love, as from the wedd-^too landh. 
He is a Lbi% whose fasaka mnst be 
Medons : and even his jnale friends 
should he eKtrosaely like Kaleds! 
Poor man! yon aee how euSfy he can 
be doped. Hem. — ^Among penons 
of this eharaeter are nsnal^ foond 
those oddities, hnmoars^ and pecnlia- 
ritiesy which are eash a handle. Ke 
man lives ontof the world with inqm- 
ntty to the seUdity of his own chano- 
ter. Bvqy new ontiiet to the humoni 
is a new inlet to the heart 

IV. 

The bold, generons, firank, and 
affectionate man ;— usnaUy a peraoB 
of robust health. His oonstitntioB 
keeps him in spirits, and his spirits 
in courage and in benevolence. He is 
obviously not a hard character, my 
good young friends, for you to deceive; 
for he wants snqpidon, and all his 
good qualities lay him open to yon. 
But beware his anger when he finds 
you out ! he is a terrible Othello when 
his nature is once stung. Mem. — A 
good sort of character to seduce into 
illegal practices: makes a tolerable 
traitor, or a capital smuggler : you 
yourselves must never commit any 
illegal offence: aren't there cato-paws 
for the chesnuts? As all laws are 
oppressions (only necessary and often 
B&cred oppressions, which yon need 
not explain to him), and his character 
is especially hostile to oppression, you 
easily seduce the person we describe 
into braving the laws of his conntry. 
Tes! the bold, generous, frank, and 
affectionate man, has only to be bom 
in humble life to be sure of a halter ! 



The bold, selfish, close, ^^lasping 
an, win, in all probability, chest you, 
my dear friends. Eor such a cha- 
nuster makes the xnaaier-rogne, the 
stuff from which Katore forms a 
Bichavd the 3%ird. You ImmL better 
leaveaocha man quite aknie. He is 



TOMLroSOKIAISrA./ 



aoi 



iMul even to aerre. He braaks up his 
tools when ho has done wiih thent; 
'So, yon can do nothing^mth him,, my 
good young meat! 

VL 

The eating, drinking, unthonghtful, 
sensual, mechanical man — ^the ordi- 
nary animal. Such a creature has 
ennning, and is either cowardly or 
ferocious; seldom in these qualities 
he preserves a mediam. He is not 
By any means easy to dupe. Kature 
defends her mental bmtes by the 
thickness of their hide. Win his 
mistress if possible; she is the best 
person to manage him. Such crea- 
tures are the natural prey of artful 
women ; their very stolidity covers all 
but sensuality.. To the Sampson^ — the 
DalilalL 

vn. 

The gay, deoeitfU, shrewd, poiished, 
able man; the courtier, the man of 
the world. In public and stirring life, 
this is the fit antagonist— often the 
snocessfal and conqnering rival of 
Character Y. You perceive a man 
like this varies so greatly in intellect, 
from the mere butterfly talent to the 
rarest genius ; &om the person you 
see at cards to the person you see in 
cabinets — ^from the to the Ches- 
terfield — from the Chesterfield to the 
Pericles; — that it is difficult to give 
you an exact notion of the weak 
points of a character so various. But 
while he dupes his equals and his 
superiors, I consider him, my attentive 
pupils, by no means a very difficult 
character for an inferior to dupe. 
And in this manner you must go 
about it. Do not attempt hypocrisy ; 
he will see through it in an instant. 
Let him think you at once, and at 
first sight, a rogue. Be candid on 
that matter yourself: but let him 
think you an useful rogue. Serve 
him well and zealously : but own that 
you do so, because you consider your 
interest involved in this. This rea- 



soning satasfies him; and as men of 
this chanuster ace usually generous, 
he will acknowledge its justice by 
Uirowing yon plenty of sops, and sti* 
mulating you with bonndfiil cordials. 
Should he not content you herein, 
appear contented ; and profit in be- 
traying him {that is the best way to 
cheat him,) not by his fieiilings, but by 
opportunity. Watch not his character, 
but your time. 

rm.. 
The vain, arrogant, brave, amorous, 
fiuhy character. This sort of char 
raeter we formeriy attributed to the 
French, and it is still more conunon to 
the Continent than that beloved island 
which I riiall see no more ! A crea- 
ture of this description is made up of 
many false virtues; above others, it 
is always proAise where its selfishness 
is appealed to, not otherwise. Ton 
must find, then, what pleases it, and 
pander to its tastes. So will ye cheat 
it— or ye will cheat it also by affect- 
ing tiie fidse virtues which it admires 
itself-T-rouge your sentiments highly, 
and let them strut with a buskined 
air; thirdly, my good young men, ye 
will cheat it by profuse flattery, and 
by calling it in especial, '' the mirror of 
chivalry.'* 

IX. 

The plain, sensible, honest man. — 
A favourable, but not elevated speci- 
men of our race. This character, my 
beloved pupils, you may take in once, 
but never twice. Nor can you take in 
such a man as a stranger ; he must be 
your friend; or relation, or have known 
intimately some part of your family. 
A man of this character is always 
open, though in a moderate and calm 
degree, to the duties and ties of life. 
He will always do something to serve 
his friend, his brother, or the man 
whose fiither pulled his father out of 
the Serpentine. Afiect with him no 
varnish ; exert no artifice in attempt- 
I ing to obtain his assistance. Candidly 



302 



TOMLUrSOKIANA. 



ftate your wish for saeh or sach s 
lenrioe— fleniibly state your preten- 
mons— modestly hint at yonr grati- 
tude. So may yon deoeive him onoe, 
then leave him alone for erer ! 



The fond, silly, crednlons man ; all 
impulse, and no reflection ! — How my 
heart swells when I contemplate this 
excellent character ! What a Canaan 
for you does it present I I envy yon 
launching into the world with the 
sanguine hope of finding all men such! 
Delightful enthusiasm of youth — 
would that the hope could be realised I 
Here is the very incarnation of gulli- 
bility. You have only to make him 
lore you, and no hedgehog ever 
sucked egg as you can suck him. 
Kever be afraid of his indignation ; go 
to him again and again ; only throw 
yourself on his neck and weep. To 
gull him once, is to gull him always ; 
get his first shilling, and then calcu- 
late what you will do with the rest of 
his fortune. Never desert so good a 



man for new friends ; that would be' 
ungrateful in yon ! And take with 
you, by the way, my good young gen- 
tlemen, this concluding maxim. Men 
are like hmds ; you wUl get more by 
lavishing all your labour again and 
again upon the easy, than by plough- 
ing up new ground in the sterile ! 

Legislators — wise — good — pious 
men, — ^the Tom Thumbs of moral 
science, who make giants first, and 
then kUl them ;* you think the above 
lessons villanous : I honour yonr pe- 
netration 1 they are not proo& of my 
villany, but of your folly I Look over 
them again, and you will see that 
they are designed to show that while 
ye are imprisoning, transporting, and 
hanging thousands every day, a man 
with a decent modicum of cunning 
might practise every one of those 
lessons which seem to you so heinous, 
and not one of your laws could touch 
him! 



*"Be made the gianta fint, and then ha 
kUled them.'* 

The Tragedp qfTam Tkuma. 



TOMLINSONIANA. 



808 



BRACHYLOGIA; 

oa, 

ESSAYS, 
CRITICAL, SENTIMENTAL, MORAL, AND ORIGINAL, 

ADDBBSSED TO BI8 PUPILS 

By AUGUSTUS TOMLINSON. 



The irony in the praoediog esnys is often lost sight of in the present The illness of 
this great man, which happened while composing these little gems^ made him perhaps 
more in earnest than when in rohust health.— £<lttor'« Note* 



ON TBB XORALITT TAUGHT BT THB 
BIOH TO THB POOB. 

As soon as the urchin panper can 
totter out of doors, it is taught to pull 
off its hat, and pull its hair to the 
quality. "A good little boy," 9Ay% 
tiie squire; there 's a ha'penny for you." 
The good little boy glows with pride. 
That ha'penny instils deep the lesson 
of humility. Now goes our urchin 
to school. Then comes the Sunday 
teaching — ^before church — ^which en- 
joins the poor to be lowly, and to 
honour eyery man better off than 
themselves. A pound of honour to 
the squire, and an ounce to the beadle. 
Then the boy grows up ; and the Lord 
of the Manor instructs him thus. " Be 
a good boy, Tom, and 111 befriend 
you ; tread in the steps of your fkther; 
he was an excellent man, and a great 
loss to the parish ; he was avery dvU, 



hardrtoorhmg, well-behaved creature ; 
knew his station; — mind, and do 
like him ! " So perpetual luurd labour, 
and plenty of cringing, make the an- 
cestral virtues to be perpetuated to 
peasants till the day of judgment ! 
Another insidious distiUation of mo- 
rality is conveyed thr6ugh a general 
praise of the poor. You hear &lse 
friends of the people, who call them- 
selves Liberals, and Tories, who have 
an idea of morals, half chivalric, half 
pastoral, agree in lauding the unfor- 
tunate creatures whom they keep at 
work for them. But mark the virtues 
the poor are always to be praised for ; 
— Industry, Honesty, and Content. 
The first virtue is extolled to the skies, 
because Industry gives the rich eveiy 
thing they have ; the second, because 
Honesty prevents an iota of the said 
every thing being taken away again ; 



aoi 



TOMLIHBOlSnAHjt 



and the third, because Content is to 
hinder these poor devils from ever 
objecting to a lot, so comfortable to 
the persons who profit by it This, 
my Pupils, is the morality taught by 
the Rich to the Poor I 

XXVLATIOir. 

The great error of emulation is this, 
— ^we emulate effects without inquiring ' 
into causes ; when we read of the great | 
actions of a man^ we are on fixe to 
perform the same exploits, without 
endeavouring to ascertain the precise 
qualities which enabled the man we 
imitate to commit the actions we ad- 
mire. Could we diseoyer these, how 
often might we diseoyer that their 
origin was a certain temper of body, a 
certain peculiarity of constitution, and 
that, wish we for the same success, we 
should be examining the nature of our 
bodies, rather than sharpening the 
fitculties of our minds; should use 
dumb-bells, perhaps, instead of books; 
nay, on the other hand, oontnust some, 
grievous complaint, rather than per- 
^t our moral salubrity. Who should 
say whether Alexander would haye 
beenahero, had his neck been straightl 
or Boileau asatirist^ had he never been 
pecked by a turkey 1 It would be plea-, 
aant to see you, my beloved pupils, 
after reading " Quintus Curtlus," twist- 
ing each other's throat ; or, fresh from 
Boileau, hunying to thepoultiy-yard, 
in the hope of being mutilated into 
the performance of a second Lutrin. 

, GATTTIOS AOAISBT THE 800FEIB8 OV 
" HUXBUO." 

My beloved pupils, there is » set of 
persons in the world daily-inorearing, 
againstwhom you must be greatly on 
your guard; there is a fi«eination 
about them. They are people who de- 
clare themselves vehemenUy opposed 
to humbug; fine, liberal feUows, dear- 
sighted, yet ftunk. When these sen- 
timents iffise horn reflectioDi well and 



good, they are the best sentiments in 
the world; but many take them up 
second-hand; tl^y are yery inyitr 
ing to [the indolence of the mob of 
gentlemen, who see the romance of 
a noble principle, not its utUify . When 
a man looks at eyeiy thing throng 
this dwarfing philosophy, eyery thing 
has a great modicum of humbug. Ton 
laugh with him when he derides the 
humbug Uk religion, the humbug in 
politics, the humbug in loye, the hum- 
bug in the plausibilities of the world ; 
but you may ciy, my dear pupils, 
when he derides what is oft;^ the 
safest of all pracUeaUy to deride,— the 
humbug in common honesty ! Ken 
are honest from nligion, wisdom, 
prejudice, habit, fear, and stupidity ; 
but the few only are wise; and iJie 
penons we speak of deride reli^on, 
are beyond prejudice, unawed by habit^ 
tooindiflbrant for fear, and too expe- 
rienced for stupidity. 

FOPULAS WBAXH Al JXDJYUSUJLU . 
DEFSUnnOE. 

Tou must know, my dear young 
friends, that while the appearance of 
magnanimity is vezy becoming to yon, 
and so fortii, ib will get you a great 
deal of ill*wiU| if you. attempt to prac- 
tise it to your own detriment. Your 
neighbours are so invariably,. though 
perhaps insensibly, actuated by sdf- 
intfoest* — selfHUterest is so entirely; 
though every twaddler denies it, the 
axis of the moral worid, that ihef 
fly into a rage with him who seons to 
disregard itk When ai man ruins him- 
self, just hear the abuse he receives; 
his neighboun take it as a peraonal 
affiant! 

Dint DSFLtTAT JUOTIS. 

One main reason why men who have 
been great are disappointed, when they 
retire to private life, is this : memoiy 



J 



* Mr. Tomlinson is wrong here. Bat his 
ethles were too maeh mnowed to UtiUta- 



TOMLIKSONIANA. 



m 



makea a chief wmtce of eiyoynient to 
those who cease eagerly to hope; but 
the memory of the great recalls only 
that pnblic life which has disgusted 
them. Their private life hath slipped 
insemdbly away, leaving Hunt traces 
of the sorrow or the joy which found 
them too buE^ to heed the simple and 
quiet impressions of mere domestic 
vicissitude. 

SSUr^^LOBIFDffiS. 

Providence seems to have done to a 
certain set of persons, who always view 
thdrown things through ama^ifying 
medium ; deem thdr house the best 
in the world, thehrgun the truest, their 
veiy pointer a miracle,— as Colonel 
Hanger suggested to economists to do, 
viz. provide their servants each with a 
pair of huge spectacles, so that a lark 
might appear as big as a fowl, and a 
two-penny loaf as huge as quartern. 

VHOUaBT ON FOBTUKX. 

It is often the easiest move that 
completes the game. Fortune is like 
the lady whom a lover carried off from 
all his rivals by putting an additional 
hice upon his Uveries. 

WIf ASD TBUTH. 

People may talk about fiction being 
the source of fancy, and wit being at 
variance with truth ; now some of the 
wittiest things in the world are witty 
solely from iteir truth. Truth is the 
soul of a good saying. " You assert>" 
observes the Socrates of modem times, 
"that we have a virtual representa- 
tion ; veiy well, let us have a virtual 
taxation too!" Here the wit is in 
the fidelity of the sequiiur. When 
Columbus broke the egg, where was 
the witT — ^In the completeness of 
conviction in the broken egg. 

' A17T0-!(H10L0aT. 

"■ Not only every sect but every indi- 
vidual modifies the general attributes 
No. 40. 



of the Deity towards assimiUtion with 
his own character: the just man 
dwells on the justice, the stem upon 
the wrath ; the attributes that do not 
please the worshipper he insensibly 
forgets. Wherefore, oh my pupils, 
you will not smile when you read 
in Bamesthat the pigmies declared 
Jove himself was a pigmy. The pious 
vanity of man makes Mm adore his 
own qualities under the pretence of 
worshipping those of his^God. 

QL0BI0U9 OOFSTITXmOK. 

A sentence is sometimes as good as 
a volume. If a man ask you to give 
him some idea of the laws of Snglsmd, 
the answer is short and ea^ : in the 
laws of England there are somewhere 
about one hundred and fifty laws by 
which a poor man may be lumged, but 
not one by which he can obtain justice 
for nothing 1 

AFSWEB TO THB POPULAR CAST THAT 
GO0DN1B8 m A 8TATISMAK IS BXTTXS 
THAK ABILITY. 

As in the world we must look to 
actions, not motives, so a knave is the 
man who ii\jures you ; and yon do not 
inquire whether the injury be the fruit 
of malice or necessity. Phice then a 
fool in power, and he becomes uncon- 
sdously the knave. Mr. Addington 
stumbled on the two very worst and 
most villanous taxes human malice 
oonld have invented,— -one on medi- 
cines, the other on justice. What 
tyrant's fearful ingenuity could afflict 
us more than by impeding at once 
redress for our wrongs and cure for our 
diseases ? Mr. Addington was the fool 
in ge, and therefore the knave in office ; 
but^ bless you ! he never meant it ! , 

' OOXXOir SIHSB. 

Common sense — common senses 
Of all phrases, all catch-words, this is 
often the most deceitful and the most 
dangerous. Look, in especial, suspi 

z 20 



TOlfUNaOHLAKA. ^ 



donsly upoA tommum sfut wkenmts 
li ift (WOB^ to diMOvery. Common 
penM k the expfuimot of ereiy daj. 
DiBooreiy ii aometliiiig agiiui tlio 
«xporiaice of every dagr. STo von^ 
iist, ih\Bii» tiK»t when Ofllileo pro- 
da^ed a great traib, the vniYennl 
eryme, "Bahal oooniiMni ieme will 
tell you the rererae." Wktoaao^ 
■ible man, for the first tinie^ on the 
fthecny of yiiion, and hear utet hia 
common aenae irill aay to it. In a 
letter in the time of Bacon, the writer, 
of no mean intelleoi himaeU^ aays, " It 
is a pity the chancellor should set his 
opinion against the experience of so 
snany oentories and the dictates of 
common sense.'' Common sense, then, 
80 nseM in household matters^ is less 
naefol in the legishitiTe and in the 
•cientific world tiban it has been gene- 
rally deemed. Naturally the advocate 
for what has been tried, and ayerse to 
what is speculative, it opposes the 
new philosophy that appeals to reasoxi, 
and clings to tiie old which is propped 
by sanction. 

LOTS, AXD WBITBBS ON LOTS. 

Hy warm, hot-headed, ardent yonng 
friends, ye are in the flower of your 
life, and. writing TOTMB about love, — 
let us say a word on the subject. 
There are two species of love common 
to all men and to most animals;."' 
one springs from the senses, the other 
grows out of custom. IS^ow ndther 
of these, my dear yonng friends^ is 
the love that you pretend to feel — the 
love q^ Wooers. Your passion having 
only its . foundation (and that unao- 
Icnowledged) in the senses^ oweaev«ry 
thing else to the inu^gination. Sfow 
the imagination of the minority is 
different in complexion and degree^ 
in every country and in every age ; 
80 also, and oonaeqnently, is the love 
of the imagination : as a proof, observe 
that you [sympathise with the romantic 



* MeH animrtii ; for mm 
sible to the lave of onstom. 



lore of other iimaa or nalknui eady 
in p ropo rt ion at yoaa sympaHdaewith 
ihsir poetnr^aiBd imaginatiw fitaBk 
tun. The love whieh stalks throm^ 
the Aroidia^ or Amadis of Ganl, is 
to tbe great Indk of readers oaUly 
inaipid^oraelettnlyridicaknu. jkhs! 
iriwn those wotIeb existed eii nmnisaiiij 
ao did the love which thej deaeribe. 
The long apeechea, the icy ecnq^* 
ments, expressed the feeUng of the 
day. The 4<rfe madrigalfr of the time 
of Shenatone^ or the brooade gallan- 
tries of the Awnch poets in.tbe last 
oentnry, any woman now would eon- 
sider hollow or ehiWiah^ imbecile or 
artifidaL Ones the aengs were natexal 
and the love aedoctive. Aad now, 
my young friendsy in the year 1832, 
in which I wiite^ and ahall probaUy 
die, the love which glitters through 
Hoove, ibd waUcs so amhitlowwiy am- 
biguous throngji tha verse of Byron ; 
the love which you consider now so 
deep and ao true; the love which 
tingles through the hearts of your 
young ladies^ and sets yon yoong 
gentlemen gadng on the eren&ag^atsr ; 
all that love too will beeome uafih 
miBar or rlAddous to an after age; 
and the young- aspiringai^ atod the 
moonlight drcauns, and the vague 
fiddle^e-deea, which ye now think 
se tonebing and so subline wiU go, 
my dear boys^ where CowteysMiatoeas 
and Wailer'a Sacharsasa liaM> gooae 
bedbre; ga with, tile Sapphoa and the 
Chloes, theelegwt '< <to«Bg ftirs," 
and the diividrie ''most beaateons 
prineeaaasr Hhe only loive-poetry 
that alsiids throofi^ all time and 
appeals to all hearts, is that whioh is 
fbunded oattther or both the iqpedes 
of love natnral to all men; tbt love 
of the aensea^ and the love of enatenL. 
In the latter is indoded what middle- 
agedmen^all the rstional atladiment, 
the chann of congenial minds, as well 
as the homd^ and warmer accumula- 
tion of little memories of ainqple 
kindness^ or the mere bmte htlntnde 



TOMLINSONIAHA. 



»7 



of seeing a &ce ae one would see a 
ohair. l^ese, sometimes ongly^ some- 
timeB skilfiilly blended, make the 
tll^eme of those who We perhaps 
loved the most honestly and the most 
humanly; these yet render Tibnllus 
pathetic, and Ovid a master over 
tender affections; and these, above 
all, make that irresistible and all< 
touching inspiration which subdues 
the romantic, the calculating, the old, 
the young, tiie courtier, the peasant, 
the poet, the man of business, in the 
glorious love-poetry of Robert Bums. 

THE ORBAT ENTAILED. 

The great inheritance of man is a 
commonwealth of blunders ; one race 
spend their lives in botching the 
errors transmitted to them by another; 
and the main cause of all political, t.e. 
all the worst and most general, blun- 
ders is this, — ^the same rule we apply 
to individual cases we will not apply 
to public. All men consent that 
swindling for a horse is swindling, — 
they punish the culprit and condemn 
the &ult. But in a state there is no 
such unanimity. Swindling, Lord 
help you ! is called by some fine 
name, and cheating grows grandilo- 
quent, and styles itself " Policy." In 
consequence of this, there is always a 
battle between those who call things 
by their right names, and those who 
pertinaciously give rthem the wrong 
ones. HenceallBortsof confusion; this 
confusion ei^tends very | soon to the 
laws made for individual cases; and 
thus in old states, though the world 
is still agreed that private swindling 
is private swindling, there is the devil's 
own difficulty in punishing the swind- 
ling of the public The art of swindling 
now is a different thing to the art 
of swindling an hundred years ago ; 
but the laws remain the same. Adap- 
tation in private cases is innova- 
tion in public ; so, without repealing 
old laws they make new, — sometimes 
these are effectual, bat more often 



not Kow, my beloved pupils^ a law 
is a gmi, which if it misses a pigeon 
always kills a crow;— if it does not 
strike the guilty it hits some one 
else. As every crime creates a law, 
so in turn every law creates a crime ; 
and hence we go on mnltiplyi^g sins 
and evils, and fiiults and bfamders, 
till society becomes the organised dis- 
order for picking pockets. 

THE RBaENEEATIOir OF A KNAVE. 

A man who begins the world by 
being a fool, often ends it by becom- 
ing a knave ; but he who begins as a 
knave, if he be a rich man (and so 
not hanged), may end, my beloved 
pupils, in being a pious creature. 
And this is the wherefore : ** a knave 
early" soon gets knowledge of the 
world. One vice worn out makes us 
wiser than fifty tutors. But wisdom 
causes us to love quiet, and in quiet we 
do not sin. He who is wise and sins 
not can scarcely £ul of doing good ; 
for let him but uUer a new truth, and 
even his imagination cannot conceive 
the limit of the good he may have 
done to man i 

STYLE. 

Do you well understand what a 
wonderful thing style is? I think 
not; for in the exercises you sent 
me, your styles betrayed that no 
very earnest consideration had been 
lavished upon them. Enow, then, 
that you must pause well before you 
take up any model of style. On your 
style often depends your own cha- 
racter, — almost always the character 
given you by the world. If you adopt 
Qie lofty style; — if you string to- 
gether noble phrases and swelling 
sonora» you have expressed, avowed, 
a frame of mind which you will 
insensibly desire to act up to: the 
desire gradually begets the capacity. 
The life of Dr. Parr is Dr. Parr's style 
put in action. And Lord Byron 
makes himself through existence on- 



808 



TOMLmSOHIANA. 



happy for haying aocidentallj slipped 
into a melancholy current of irorda. 
But roppose you escape this calamity 
by a peculiar hardihood of tempera- 
ment, yon escape not the stamp of 
popular opinion. AddUwn must erer 
be held by the vulgar the moat amiable 
of men, because of the social amenity 
of his diction; and the admirers of 



language will always consider Burke 
a nobler spirit thsR ¥ox, because of 
the grandeur of his sentences. How 
many wise sayings have been called 
jests because th^ were wittily nttered ! 
How nutny nothings swelled their 
author into a sage ; ay, a saint, because 
they were strung together by the old 
hypocrite nun— Gravity ! 



TUB KND. 



London: 
baadbury ajxd xvan8, privtbrs, writbfriara.
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