set me by the ears with his guests, which he had no great trouble in doing. And then, when he saw me at all confused, or borne down by statements from authors, of whose very names I had never heard, or by expressions of horror and surprise which made me suspect that I had unconsciously committed myself to an absurdity, he used to come "hurling into the midst of the press," like some knight at a tournament, or Socrates when he saved Alcibiades at Delium, and, by a dexterous repartee, turn the tide of battle, and get me off safe— taking care, by-the-by, to hint to me the obligation which he considered himself to have conferred upon me.

But the great majority of the young men whom I met were even of a lower stamp. I was utterly shocked and disappointed at the contempt and unbelief with which they seemed to regard every thing beyond mere animal enjoyment, and here and there the selfish advantage of a good degree. They seemed, if one could judge from appearances, to despise and disbelieve every thing generous, enthusiastic, enlarged. Thoughtfulness was a "bore;" earnestness, 66 romance.".

Above all, they seemed to despise the university itself. The "Dons" were "idle, fat old humbugs;" chapel, "a humbug too;" tutors, "humbugs" too, who played into the tradesmen's hands, and charged men high fees for lectures not worth attending so that any man who wanted to get on, was forced to have a private tutor, besides his college one. The university studies were a humbug"- -no use to a man in after-life. The masters of arts were “humbugs" too; for "they knew all the evils, and clamored for reform till they became Dons themselves; and then, as soon as they found the old system pay, they settled down on their lees, and grew fat on port wine, like those before them.' They seemed to consider themselves in an atmosphere of humbug-living in a lie-out of which lie-element those who chose were very right in making the most, for the gaining of fame or money. And the tone which they took about every thing-the coarseness, hollowness, Gil Blas selfishness-was just what might have been expected. Whether they were right or wrong in their complaints, I, of course, have no means of accurately knowing. But it did seem strange to me, as it has to others, to find in the mouths of almost all the gownsmen, those very same charges against the universities which, when working-men dare to make them, excite outcries of "calumny," ," "sedition," vulgar radicalism," "attacks on our time-honored institutions," &c., &c.

CHAPTER XIV.

A CATHEDRAL TOWN.

AT length, the wished-for day had arrived; and, with my cousin, I was whirling along full of hope and desire, toward the cathedral town of D- through a flat fen country, which, though I had often heard it described as ugly, struck my imagination much. The vast height and width of the sky-arch, as seen from those flats, as from an ocean-the gray haze shrouding the horizon of our narrow land-view, and closing us in, till we seemed to be floating through infinite space, on a little platform of earth; the rich poplar-fringed farms, with their herds of dappled oxen-the luxuriant crops of oats and beans the tender green of the tall rape, a plant till then unknown to me- -the long, straight, silver dykes, with their gaudy carpets of strange floating water plants, and their black banks studded with the remains of buried forests-the innumerable draining-mills, with their creaking sails and groaning wheels-the endless rows of pollard willows, through which the breeze moaned and rung, as through the strings of some vast Æolian harp; the little island knolls in that vast sea of fen, each with its long village street, and delicately taper spire; all this seemed to me to contain an element of new and peculiar beauty.

"Why!" exclaims the reading public, if perchance it ever sees this tale of mine, in its usual purient longing after any thing like personal gossip, or scandalous anecdote, "why, there is no cathedral town which begins with a D! Through the fen, too! He must mean either Ely, Lincoln, or Peterborough: that's certain.” Then, at one of those places, they find there is a dean-not of the name of Winnstay, true--but his name begins with a W; and he has a pretty daughter-no, a niece; well, that's very near it; it must be him. No; at another place there is not a dean, true-but a canon, or an archdeacon-something of that kind; and he has a pretty daughter, really; and his name begins not with W, but with Y; well, that's the last letter of Winnstay, if it is not the first; that must be the poor man! What a shame to have exposed his family secrets in that way!" And then a whole circle of myths grow up around the man's story. It is credibly ascertained that I am the man who broke into his house

last year, after having made love to his housemaid, and stole his writing-desk and plate-else, why should a burglar steal family-letters, if he had not some interest in them ?-And before the matter dies away, some worthy old gentleman, who has not spoken to a working-man since he left his living, thirty years ago, and hates a radical as he does the Pope, receives two or three anonymous letters, condoling with him on the cruel betrayal of his confidence-base ingratitude for undeserved condescension, &c., &c.; and, perhaps, with an inclosure of good advice for his lovely daughter.

But, wherever D- is, we arrived there; and with a beating heart, I—and I now suspect my cousin also-walked up the sunny slopes, where the old convent had stood, now covered with walled gardens and noble timber trees, and crowned by the richly-fretted towers of the cathedral, which we had seen, for the last twenty miles, growing gradually larger and more distinct across the level flat. Ely?" 'No; Lincoln !" "Oh! but really, it's just as much like Peterborough !" Never mind, my dear reader; the essence of the fact, as I think, lies not quite so much in the name of the place, as in what was done there-to which I, with all the little respect which I can muster, entreat your attention.

""

It is not from false shame at my necessary ignorance, but from a fear lest I should bore my readers with what seems to them trivial, that I refrain from dilating on many a thing, which struck me as curious in this my first visit to the house of an English gentleman. I must say, however, though I suppose that it will be numbered, at least, among trite remarks, if not among trivial ones, that the wealth around me certainly struck me, as it has others, as not very much in keeping with the office of one who professed to be a minister of the Gospel of Jesus of Nazareth. But I salved over that feeling, being desirous to see every thing in the brightest light, with the recollection that the dean had a private fortune of his own; though it did seem, at moments, that if a man has solemnly sworn to devote himself, body and soul, to the cause of the spiritual welfare of the nation, that vow might be not unfairly construed to include his money, as well as his talents, time, and health; unless, perhaps, money is considered by spiritual persons as so worthless a thing, that it is not fit to be given to God-a notion which might seem to explain how a really pious and universally respected archbishop-living within a quarter of a mile of one of the worst infernos of destitution, disease, filth, and profligacy-can yet find it in

his heart to save £120,000, out of church revenues, and leave it to his family; though it will not explain how Irish bishops can reconcile it to their consciences to leave behind them, one and all, large fortunes-for I suppose from fifty to a hundred thousand pounds is something-saved from fees and tithes, taken from the pockets of a Roman Catholic population, whom they have been put there to convert to Protestantism, for the last three hundred years—with what success, all the world knows. Of course, it is a most impertinent, and almost a blasphemous thing, for a working-inan to dare to mention such subjects. Is it not "speaking evil of dignities?" Strange, by-the-by, that merely to mention facts, without note or comment, should be always called "speaking evil!" Does not that argue ill for the facts themselves? Working-men think so; but what matter what "the swinish multitude" think?

When I speak of wealth, I do not mean that the dean's household would have been considered by his own class at all too luxurious. He would have been said, I suppose, to live in a "quiet, comfortable, gentlemanlike way"-" every thing very plain and very good.' It included a butler—a quiet, good-natured old man-who ushered us into our bedrooms; a footman, who opened the door-a sort of animal for which I have an extreme aversion-young, silly, conceited, over-fed, florid-who looked just the man to sell his soul for a livery, twice as much food as he needed, and the opportunity of unlimited flirtations with the maids; and a coachman, very like other coachmen, whom I saw taking a pair of handsome carriage-horses out to exercise, as we opened the gate.

The old man, silently and as a matter of course, unpacked for me my little portmanteau (lent me by my cousin), and placed my things neatly in various drawers-went down, brought up a jug of hot water, put it on the washing-tabletold me that dinner was at six-that the half-hour bell rang at half-past five-and that, if I wanted any thing, the footman would answer the bell (bells seeming a prominent idea in his theory of the universe)-and so left me, wondering at the strange fact that free men, with free wills, do sell themselves, by the hundred thousand, to perform menial offices for other men, not for love, but for money; becoming, to define them strictly, bell-answering animals and are honest, happy, contented, in such a life. A man-servant, a soldier, and a Jesuit, are to me the three great wonders of humanity-three forms of moral suicide, for which I never had the slightest gleam of sympathy, or even comprehension.

At last we went down to dinner, after my personal adornments had been carefully superintended by my cousin, who gave me, over-and-above, various warnings and exhortations as to my behavior; which, of course, took due effect, in making me as nervous, constrained, and affected, as possible. When I appeared in the drawing-rom, I was kindly welcomed by the dean, the two ladies, and Lord Lynedale.

But as I stood fidgeting and blushing, sticking my arms, and legs, and head, into all sorts of quaint positions-trying one attitude, and thinking it looked awkward, and so exchanging it for another, more awkward still-my eye fell suddenly on a slip of paper, which had conveyed itself, I never knew how, upon the pages of the Illustrated Book of Ballads, which I was turning over :

"Be natural, and you will be gentlemanlike. If you wish others to forget your rank, do not forget it yourself. If you wish others to remember you with pleasure, forget yourself; and be just what God has made you."

I could not help fancying that the lesson, whether intentionally or not, was meant for me; and a passing impulse made me take up the slip, fold it together, and put it in my bosom. Perhaps it was Lillian's hand-writing! I looked round at the ladies; but their faces were each buried behind a book.

We went in to dinner; and to my delight, I sat next to my goddess, while opposite me was my cousin. Luckily I had got some directions from him as to what to say and do, when my wonders, the servants, thrust eatables and drinkables over my shoulders.

It was

Lillian and my cousin chatted away about church-architecture, and the restorations which were going on at the cathedral; while I, for the first-half of dinner, feasted my eyes with the sight of a beauty, in which I seemed to discover every moment some new excellence. Every time I looked up at her, my eyes dazzled, my face burnt, my heart sank, and soft thrills ran through every nerve. And yet, Heaven knows, my emotions were as pure as those of an infant. beauty longed for, and found at last, which I adored as a thing not to be possessed, but worshiped. The desire, even the thought, of calling her my own, never crossed my mind. I felt that I could gladly die, if by death I could purchase the permission to watch her. I understood, then, and forever after, the pure devotion of the old knights and troubadours of chivalry. I seemed to myself to be their brother-one of the