an hour; no servants but two maids, and a groom and gardener out of doors. I know my lord as well, and better, than he does himself, and for all his talk about that Apemantus over the side-board, and not trusting man or woman, I am sure he will

never do out of London or Beaulieu. What can be the reason of it, I can't find out, but I do hope, Sir, you have brought him some good news, for nothing else will cure his gout."

"And will that do it, Mr. Simcoe?" asked I.

"I don't know, Sir, but I wish there never was such a thing as a newspaper; for he takes them all in, and never reads one but it makes him worse. But as you are now dressed, I will, if you please, go and prepare your breakfast; though I fear you will never find the way down without me, so if you please I will stop and shew you."

Feeling that he was right, I gladly accepted the offer, and followed him down, as I had followed him up, through a labyrinth of passages and staircases, till I found myself again seated under Apemantus's Grace, in the dining-room. I read it again, and agreed with the sagacious Simcoe, that he knew his lord as well, if not better, than he did himself, when he professed to admire such a piece of cynicism.

Breakfast over, I began to be anxious for the sight of the noble hermit who so distrusted his species. In fact, from what I saw, notwithstand

ing its want of keeping, I was fearful lest the feudal interest about the place, and the self-flattery of every man who pretends to despise the world, might influence him to be obstinate, at least for a while, against all overtures to bring him back.

Of his total unfitness for the life he had chosen, except while under the operation of his spleen, I was as convinced as Mr. Simcoe himself. Oh! what a contrast to the really philosophic and selfsufficing Manners, and how different this gloomy castle from the cheerful Grange!

CHAPTER XVIII.

OF

MY INTERVIEW WITH THE MARQUESS, AND THE INTERESTING CONVERSATION I HAD WITH HIM.

How now, my lord, why do you keep alone,

Of sorriest fancies your companions making?

This is in thee a nature but affected,

SHAKSPEARE.-Macbeth.

A poor, womanly melancholy, sprung

From change of fortune. Why this spade? this place?
This slave-like habit, and these looks of care?

Timon of Athens.

At length, from a sort of bustle in the hall, I concluded that the marquess was approaching, and he presently entered, leaning on Simcoe. Neither the gout, nor his savage abode, nor even his new companions, Parrot and the gauger, had taken from him his natural politeness; and, though strangely arrayed in a sort of Flushing pilot coat, with a coarse handkerchief round his neck, and canvass trousers on his legs, he could not divest himself of

that air of a man of quality which belonged to him.

The butler having withdrawn, "You are welcome," said he, shaking hands with me, "to such comfort as my poor house can afford-bad, I am afraid, at best, and Simcoe gives a deplorable account of your quarters last night; but it suits a banished man."

"Banished!" I exclaimed.

"Yes, banished; not by law, but the world, which I have endeavoured to serve; and not the first whom it has so rewarded;—as that book, the only one I now read, will prove any hour of the day."

And he pointed to a large old folio edition of Plutarch, printed in the time of James I., which lay open on a table.

"To be sure," said I, "there are too many instances in ancient story of the ingratitude of nations -Themistocles, Aristides, and Cicero-though the latter had been voted the father of his country; and above all, Camillus, after being five times dictator. But I trust your lordship will not fix that stain upon the people of England, who honour you, present or absent."

"No," said he, quickly, "not upon the people, who, upon the whole, are honest enough: but what shall we say to the vile intrigues of mean courtiers,

who blind their king, or to the king himself, for consenting to be blinded?”

66

"Those I come from," replied I, "as your lordship well knows, are not of that description." "I believe Castleton is an honest man," returned he ; “ but he is swayed by knaves or fools, whom he prefers to the person whom yet he consults, and whose assistance he condescends to crave."

He said this proudly, with an emphasis on the word crave, and, as I thought, with a smile of bitter satisfaction.

"With submission, your lordship may find that the preference you suppose neither does nor can exist, and that such preference is not compatible with that sense of your superiority, which has alone subjected you to the trouble of this mission."

He received my compliment complacently enough, adding, with sufficient grace of manner, that whatever answer he might be forced to give to Lord Castleton's despatch, he could not help thanking him for the messenger he had chosen to convey it.

This was too civil not to be recognised by a profound bow, particularly when he added, "Lord Castleton tells me you have his entire confidence on this occasion, and I shall therefore not scruple to give you mine, if only as the best mode of an