You have often called me child-like, and no praise is more grateful to
me. Yes, Heaven be praised, dear Julia! children we shall both remain,
so long as we live, though a hundred wrinkles sat upon our brows. But
children are fond of play, are rather 'inconsequent,' and are ever on
the watch for pleasure: 'C'est là l'essentiel.' Thus then you must judge
of me, and never expect much more from me. Do not therefore reproach me
with wandering about without an object. Good Heaven! has not Parry, with
his _object_, been obliged to sail three times to the north pole, and at
last return without attaining it? Has not Napoleon for twenty years
heaped victory on victory to pine away at last on St. Helena, because he
had attained his object too early and too well? And what is generally
the object of men? Not one of them can give an exact and definite
account of it. The ostensible aim is always merely a part of the whole,
often only the means to an end; and even the real and ulterior end
frequently changes its form and its motives as these change their
aspect. Thus it was with me. People have also _collateral_ objects,
which often seem the principal ones, because they do better to announce.
Thus again it was with me. 'Au bout du compte' I am satisfied,--and what
can one have more?
Neptune must have a peculiar affection for me, for whenever he gets me
in his power he keeps me as long as he can. The wind was directly
contrary, and blew with great violence. On the sea and on high mountains
the _lucky principle_ in me becomes extremely feeble. I scarcely ever
had a favourable wind at sea; nor a clear sky, when I had climbed
thousands of feet nearer to it.
Yesterday evening at eleven o'clock I quitted Dublin in a post-chaise in
a beautiful clear moonlight night. The air was mild and balmy as in
summer. I recapitulated the last two years, and called up all their
events in review before me. The result did not displease me. I have
erred here and there, but I find my mind on the whole become firmer and
clearer. In detail I have also gained and learned some things. I have
not impaired my physical machine: and lastly, I have imprinted many an
agreeable picture in the volume of my memory. I feel my good spirits and
my enjoyment of life ten times stronger than they were in the morbid
state of mind in which I quitted you; and as this is of more value than
all external things, after giving myself patient audience, I looked
forward into the unknown future with cheerfulness, and relished the
present with delight. The present consisted in the furious driving of
the half-drunk postilions: we went along a lofty embankment, or
causeway, close to the sea, in the pale moonlight, '_hop, hop, hop,
dahin im sausenden Gallop_,' till we reached a very handsome inn at
Howth, where I slept. A magnificent Newfoundland dog of enormous size
gave me his company at tea, and again in the morning at breakfast.
Perfectly white with a black face, the colossal creature looked like a
polar bear, who in a fit of absence had put on the head of one of his
black relatives. I wanted to buy him, but the host would not part with
him on any terms.
In the night I had a strange dream:--I found myself entangled in
political affairs, in consequence of which my person was watched and my
life threatened. My first escape from death was at a great hunting
party, in which four or five disguised huntsmen fell upon me in the
thickest part of the wood, and fired upon me, but did not hit me. The
next thing was an attempt to poison me: and I had already swallowed a
green powder, which had been given to me as medicine, when the Duke of
Wellington came in, and said to me very coolly, "It's nothing; I have
just taken the same, here is the antidote." After taking this, the usual
operation of an antidote followed. (Probably this was from anticipation
of my voyage.) In a short time I was better than before.--I set out, and
was soon near the end of my journey, when I was attacked by robbers, who
pulled me out of my carriage, and dragged me through brambles and ruins
to a very high narrow wall, along the top of which we hastily stepped,
while it seemed to totter under our feet. We walked on and on, and it
seemed to have no end; and besides the fear, I was tormented by gnawing
hunger, from which the robbers suffered equally. At last they called out
to me that I must find them something to eat, or they would kill me.
Just then I thought I heard a soft voice whisper "Show them that door."
I looked up, and saw a high building like an abbey, overgrown with ivy
and overshadowed by black pines, without door or window, except a 'porte
cochère' of bronze, shut, and of colossal height. With sudden
determination I exclaimed, "Fools! why do you ask food of me, when the
great storehouse is before you?" "Where?" growled the captain. "Open
that gate," replied I. As soon as the band perceived it, all rushed upon
it, the captain foremost;--but before they could touch it, the huge
gates slowly and silently unclosed themselves. A strange sight presented
itself. We looked into a vast hall which appeared to us of endless
length; the roof overarched our heads at a giddy height; all around was
magnificently adorned with gold, and with beautiful bas-reliefs and
pictures, which seemed to have life and motion. On either side against
the wall was ranged an interminable row of grim-looking wooden figures,
with faces rudely painted, clad in gold and steel, with drawn sword and
lance, and mounted upon stuffed horses. In the middle the vista was
closed by a gigantic black steed, bearing a rider thrice as big and as
terrible as the rest. He was cased from top to toe in black iron. As if
inspired, I cried out, "Ha, Rudiger! is it thou! venerable ancestor,
save me!" The words echoed like a loud thunder-clap in a hundred peals
along the vaulted roof; and we thought we saw the wooden figures and
their stuffed horses roll their eyes horribly. We all shuddered;--when
suddenly the gigantic knight flourished aloft his terrible battle-sword
like a lightning-flash, and in an instant his steed with fearful bounds
and curvetings was close upon us; when a clock struck with awful sound,
and the giant stood again a motionless statue before us. Overpowered by
terror, we all took to flight as quickly as our legs would carry us. To
my shame I must confess I did not remain behind. I had reached an old
wall, but fear turned my feet to lead. I now perceived a side door, and
was going to attempt to get through it, when a frightful voice yelled in
my ear "Half past seven." I was ready to sink on the earth from
terror,--a strong hand grasped me,--I opened my eyes bewildered, and my
Irish servant stood before me--to announce to me that if I did not get
up immediately, the steam-packet would infallibly sail without me.--You
see, dear Julia, as soon as I set out on my travels, adventures await
me, though but in my sleep. I found the people occupied in getting on
board a handsome carriage, stuffed with I think even more comforts and
superfluities than I take with me when I travel in this manner. The
valet and servants were busy, alert, and respectful; while a young man
of about twenty, with light hair carefully curled, and very elegantly
dressed in deep mourning, sauntered up and down the deck with all the
indolence of an English 'man of fashion,' taking not the smallest notice
of his property or what his people were doing. As I afterwards learned,
he had just succeeded to an estate of 20,000_l._ a year in Ireland, and
was now going abroad to spend it. He was hastening to Naples; and
appeared such a good-natured young fellow that even sea-sickness did not
put him out of humour. While talking with him, I thought--reflecting
upon the difference between us, 'Voilà le commencement et la fin!' One
whom the world sends forth, and says 'Partake of me;' and the other whom
she calls home, and says 'Digest me.' May Heaven only preserve my
stomach in good order for the operation! But these melancholy thoughts
arose only from the 'qualms' of the steam-boiler and the sea; and after
a little reflection I rejoiced in the sight of this young creature, so
rich in hopes, as much as if the illusions had been my own.
This evening I intend to proceed with the mail, and hope that a good
dinner will put an end to the nausea left by the long transit.
_Shrewsbury, Dec. 16th, Evening._
Things did not turn out so well as I expected: the dinner was by no
means good, but on the contrary, vile; and the voyage left me a
'migraine,' with which I was obliged to set out at midnight. Fortunately
we were but two in the comfortable four-seated coach, so that each had a
whole side to himself. I slept tolerably; and the air and gentle motion
had so beneficial an effect, that at seven, when I waked, my head-ache
was nearly gone. The Holyhead mail is bound to go two German miles in an
hour, all stoppages included.[155] We arrived here to breakfast, and I
staid to see the city. I visited first the castle, the greater part of
which is of extreme antiquity: it is built of red stone: the inside is
somewhat modernized. The view from the old 'keep,' on which there is now
a summer-house, over the river Severn and a rich and fertile valley, is
very beautiful and cheerful. Close by is the prison, in which I saw the
poor devils at work in the treadmill. They were all dressed in yellow
cloth, like so many Saxon postilions, to whose phlegm this exercise
would often be advantageous. From this new-fashioned establishment for
education I wandered, (travelling back eight hundred years in a minute,)
to the remains of an old abbey, of which only the church is in good
preservation and in use. The painted windows in this, as in almost all
the churches in England, were destroyed by Cromwell's fanatics, but are
here remarkably well restored with newly-painted glass. The founder of
the abbey, Roger Montgomery, (first Earl of Shrewsbury and one of
William the Conqueror's followers,) lies buried in the church under a
fine monument. Near him lies a Templar, exactly like the one at
Worcester, except in the colouring. He lies with his legs crossed in the
manner which distinguishes the tombs of his order. The Earl of
Shrewsbury not only built and endowed the abbey, but died within its
walls as a monk, in expiation of his sins. Thus did the elasticity of
the human mind soon find means to lay spiritual curb and bridle on the
rough power of the knights.
The city is very remarkable, from its numerous ancient houses of the
most extraordinary form and architecture. I frequently stood still in
the streets to sketch one in my pocket-book: this always collected a
crowd about me, who stared at me astonished, and not unfrequently
disturbed me. The English ought not to wonder, therefore, if the same
thing happens to them in Turkey and Egypt.
_Hereford, Dec. 17th._
It cannot be denied that after being deprived of it for some time, one
returns to 'English comfort' with increased relish. Change, however, is
the soul of life, and gives to every thing in its turn a fresh value.
The good inns, the neatly served 'breakfasts and dinners,' the spacious,
carefully warmed beds, the civil and adroit waiters, struck me, after
Irish deficiencies, very agreeably, and soon reconciled me to the higher
prices. At ten in the morning I left Shrewsbury again in the mail, and
reached Hereford at eight in the evening. As it was not cold I got
outside, and gave my place within to my servant. Two or three ordinary
sort of men, and a pretty animated boy of eleven, were my companions.
The conversation was furiously political. The boy was the son of a man
of considerable landed property, and was travelling home from school, a
hundred miles off, to spend his Christmas holidays. This custom of
throwing children so early on their own resources, unquestionably gives
them through life that feeling of independence and self-reliance which
the English possess above all other nations, and especially above the
Germans. The joy and vivacious restlessness of the child as he
approached his home, both touched and delighted me. There was something
so natural and so intense in it, that I involuntarily thought of my own
childhood,--of that invaluable, and at the time unvalued, happiness
which we know only in retrospect.
_Monmouth, Dec. 18th._
To-day, dear Julia, I have once more had one of those romantic days
which I have long been deprived of; one of those days whose varied
pictures delight one like fairy tales in childhood. I am indebted for it
to the celebrated scenery of the river Wye, which even in winter
asserted its claim to be considered one of the most beautiful parts of
England.
Before I quitted Hereford I paid a very early visit to the cathedral, in
which I found nothing remarkable except a handsome porch. I was near
being too late for the mail, which in England waits for nobody. I
literally caught it flying, but used it only for the thirteen miles from
Hereford to Ross, which we traversed in an extremely short time, though
with four blind horses. At Ross I hired a boat, sent it forwards five
miles to Goderich Castle, and took my way thither on foot. My road lay
first through a churchyard, on an eminence commanding a beautiful view;
then through a rich luxuriant country like that on Lake Lugano, to the
ruin, where I found the little boat with two rowers and my Irishman
already waiting. I had to cross the river, which is here rather
impetuous, in order to reach the hill crowned with the old castle.--The
ascent on the slippery turf was arduous enough. As I entered the lofty
archway, a blast of wind took my cap off my head, as if the spirit of
the place would teach me respect to the shade of its knightly possessor.
The awe and admiration could not be enhanced, however, with which I
wandered through the dark passages and the spacious courts, and climbed
the crumbling staircase. In summer and autumn the Wye is never free from
visitors; but as it probably never entered the head of a methodical
Englishman to make a tour in winter, the people are not at all prepared
for it, and during the whole day I found neither guide nor any sort of
help for travellers. The ladder, without which it is impossible to reach
the top of the highest tower, was not forthcoming; it had been removed
to winter quarters. With the help of the boatmen and my servant I
constructed a Jacob's-ladder, by means of which I scrambled up. From the
battlements you overlook a boundless stretch of country:--the robber
knights who inhabited this fortress had the advantage of seeing
travellers on the road at many miles distance. After I had duly grubbed
into every hole and corner, and descended the hill on the other side, I
breakfasted with great enjoyment in the boat, while it was rapidly borne
along on the swift current. The weather was beautiful, the sun shone
bright,--a very rare occurrence at this season,--and the air was as warm
as in a pleasant April day with us. The trees had indeed no leaves; but
as their branches were extremely thick, and they were intermixed with
many evergreens, and the grass was even greener and brighter than in
summer, the landscape lost much less in beauty than might have been
imagined. The soil is uncommonly fruitful; the gentle hills are clothed
from top to bottom with wood and copse; few ploughed fields, chiefly
meadows interspersed with trees, while every bend of the winding stream
presents a church, a village, or a country house, in a succession of the
most varied pictures. For some time we hovered on the boundaries of
three counties,--Monmouth on the right, Hereford on the left, and
Gloucester before us. In a picturesque spot, opposite to iron-works
whose flames are visible even by day, stands a house, one-half of which
bears the stamp of modern times, the other half that of gray antiquity.
This is the place in which Henry the Fifth passed his childhood, under
the care of the Countess of Salisbury. Lower down in the valley stands
the little humble church in which he was christened and she was buried.
Agincourt and Falstaff, knightly times, and the creations of Shakspeare,
occupied my fancy, till Nature, older and greater than all, soon made me
forget them: for now our little bark glided into the rocky region, where
the foaming stream and its shores assume the grandest character. These
are craggy and weather-beaten walls of sandstone, of gigantic dimension,
perpendicular or overhanging, projecting abruptly from amid oaks, and
hung with rich festoons of ivy. The rains and storms of ages have beaten
and washed them into such fantastic forms, that they appear like some
caprice of human art. Castles and towers, amphitheatres and
fortifications, battlements and obelisks, mock the wanderer, who fancies
himself transported into the ruins of a city of some extinct race. Some
of these picturesque masses are often loosened by the action of the
weather, and fall thundering from rock to rock with a terrific plunge
into the river, which is here extremely deep. The boatmen showed me the
remains of one of these blocks, and the monument of an unfortunate
Portuguese whom it buried in its fall. This extraordinary formation
reaches for nearly eight miles, to within about three of Monmouth, where
it terminates in a solitary colossal rock called the Druid's Head. Seen
from a certain point it exhibits a fine antique profile of an old man
sunk in deep sleep. Just as we rowed by, the moon rose immediately above
it, and gave it a most striking effect.
A short time afterwards we passed through a narrow part of the stream
between two shores wooded to their summits, till we came in sight of a
large bare _plateau_ of rock, called King Arthur's Plain;--the fabulous
hero is said to have encamped here. In half an hour we reached Monmouth,
a small ancient town, in which Henry the Fifth was born. A lofty statue
of him adorns the roof of the town-hall; but nothing remains of the
castle in which he first saw the light, save an ornamented Gothic
window, and a court in which turkeys, geese and ducks were fattened.
This would have been more suitable to the birth-place of Falstaff.
I went into a bookseller's shop to buy a 'Guide,' and unexpectedly made
the acquaintance of a very amiable family. It consisted of the old
bookseller, his wife, and two pretty daughters, the most perfect
specimens of innocent country girls I ever met with. I went in just as
they were at tea; and the father, a very good-natured man, but unusually
loquacious, for an Englishman, took me absolutely and formally prisoner,
and began to ask me the strangest questions about the Continent and
about politics. The daughters, who obviously pitied me--probably from
experience--tried to restrain him; but I let him go on, and surrendered
myself for half an hour 'de bonne grâce,' by which I won the good-will
of the whole family to such a degree, that they all pressed me most
warmly to stay some days in this beautiful country, and to take up my
abode with them. When I rose at length to go, they positively refused to
take any thing for the book, and 'bongré, malgré,' I was forced to keep
it as a present. Such conquests please me, because their manifestation
can come only from the heart.
_Chepstow, Dec. 19th._
As I was dressed early, and after a rapid breakfast was going to set
out, I discovered, not without a disagreeable surprise, that my purse
and pocket-book were missing. I remembered perfectly that I laid them
before me in the coffee-room last night; that I was quite alone, and
that I dined and wrote to you there; that I referred to the notes in my
pocket-book for my letter, and used my purse to pay the boatmen. It was
clear, therefore, that I must have left it there, and the waiter have
taken possession of it. I rang for him, recapitulated the above facts,
and asked, looking earnestly at him, if he had found nothing? The man
looked pale and embarrassed, and stammered out that he had seen nothing
but a bit of paper with writing on it, which he believed was still lying
under the table. I looked, and found it in the place he mentioned. All
this appeared to me very suspicious. I made some representations to the
host, a most disagreeable-looking fellow, which indeed contained some
implied threats: but he answered shortly, That he knew his people; that
a theft had not occurred in his house for thirty years, and that my
behaviour was very offensive to him;--that if I pleased, he would
immediately send to a magistrate, have all his servants sworn, and his
house searched. But then, added he with a sneer, you must not forget
that all your things, even to the smallest trifle, must be examined too;
and if nothing is found on any of us, you must pay the costs and make me
a compensation. 'Qu'allai-je faire dans cette galère?' thought I, and
saw clearly that my best way was to put up with my loss--about ten
pounds--and to depart. I therefore took some more bank-notes out of my
travelling-bag, paid the reckoning, which was pretty moderate, and
thought I distinctly recognised one of my own sovereigns in the change
he gave me:--it had a little cut over George the Fourth's eye. Persuaded
that host and waiter were partners in one concern, I shook off the dust
of my feet, and stepped into the postchaise with the feelings of a man
who has escaped from a den of thieves.
To render a service to future travellers, I stopped the chaise, and went
to inform my friend the bookseller of my mishap. The surprise and
concern of all were equal. In a few minutes the daughters began to
whisper to their mother, made signs to one another, then took their
father on one side; and after a short deliberation, the youngest came up
to me and asked me, blushing and embarrassed, "Whether this loss might
not have caused me a 'temporary embarrassment,' and whether I would
accept a loan of five pounds, which I could restore whenever I returned
that way;" at the same time trying to push the note into my hand. Such
genuine kindness touched me to the heart: it had something so
affectionate and disinterested, that the greatest benefit conferred
under other circumstances would perhaps have inspired me with less
gratitude than this mark of unaffected good-will. You may imagine how
cordially I thanked them. "Certainly," said I, "were I in the slightest
difficulty, I should not be too proud to accept so kind an offer; but as
this is not in the least degree the case, I shall lay claim to your
generosity in another way, and beg permission to be allowed to carry
back to the Continent a kiss from each of the fair girls of Monmouth."
This was granted, amid much laughter and good-natured resignation. Thus
freighted, I went back to my carriage. As I had gone yesterday by water,
I took my way to-day along the bank of the river to Chepstow. The
country retains the same character,--rich, deeply-wooded and verdant:
but in this part it is enlivened by numerous iron-works, whose fires
gleam in red, blue, and yellow flames, and blaze up through lofty
chimneys, where they assume at times the form of huge glowing flowers,
when the fire and smoke, pressed down by the weight of the atmosphere,
are kept together in a compact motionless mass. I alighted to see one of
these works. It was not moved, as most are, by a steam-engine, but by an
immense water-wheel, which again set in motion two or three smaller.
This wheel had the power of eighty horses; and the whirling rapidity of
its revolutions, the frightful noise when it was first set going, the
furnaces around vomiting fire, the red-hot iron, and the half-naked
black figures brandishing hammers and other ponderous instruments, and
throwing around the red hissing masses, formed an admirable
representation of Vulcan's smithy.
About midway in my journey the country changed, as it did yesterday,
into a stern rocky region. In the centre of a deep basin, encompassed by
mountains of various forms, we descried immediately above the silver
stream the celebrated ruins of Tintern Abbey. It would be difficult to
imagine a more favourable situation, or a more sublime ruin. The
entrance to it seems as if contrived by the hand of some skilful
scene-painter to produce the most striking effect. The church, which is
large, is still almost perfect: the roof alone and a few of the pillars
are wanting. The ruins have received just that degree of care which is
consistent with the full preservation of their character; all
unpicturesque rubbish which could obstruct the view is removed, without
any attempt at repair or embellishment. A beautiful smooth turf covers
the ground, and luxuriant creeping plants grow amid the stones. The
fallen ornaments are laid in picturesque confusion, and a perfect avenue
of thick ivy-stems climb up the pillars and form a roof over-head. The
better to secure the ruin, a new gate of antique workmanship, with iron
ornaments, is put up. When this is suddenly opened, the effect is most
striking and surprising. You suddenly look down the avenue of ivy-clad
pillars, and see their grand perspective lines closed, at a distance of
three hundred feet, by a magnificent window eighty feet high and thirty
broad: through its intricate and beautiful tracery you see a wooded
mountain, from whose side project abrupt masses of rock. Over-head the
wind plays in the garlands of ivy, and the clouds pass swiftly across
the deep blue sky. When you reach the centre of the church, whence you
look to the four extremities of its cross, you see the two transept
windows nearly as large and as beautiful as the principal one: through
each you command a picture perfectly different, but each in the wild and
sublime style which harmonizes so perfectly with the building.
Immediately around the ruin is a luxuriant orchard. In spring, how
exquisite must be the effect of these gray venerable walls rising out of
that sea of fragrance and beauty! A Vandal lord and lord lieutenant of
the county conceived the pious design of restoring the church. Happily,
Heaven took him to itself before he had time to execute it.
From Tintern Abbey the road rises uninterruptedly to a considerable
height above the river, which is never wholly out of sight. The country
reaches the highest degree of its beauty in three or four miles, at the
Duke of Beaufort's villa called the Moss House. Here are delightful
paths, which lead in endless windings through wild woods and evergreen
thickets, sometimes on the edge of lofty walls of rock, sometimes
through caves fashioned by the hand of Nature, or suddenly emerge on
open plateaus to the highest point of this chain of hills, called the
Wind-cliff, whence you enjoy one of the most extensive and noble views
in England.
At a depth of about eight hundred feet, the steep descent below you
presents in some places single projecting rocks; in others, a green
bushy precipice. In the valley, the eye follows for several miles the
course of the Wye, which issues from a wooden glen on the left hand,
curves round a green garden-like peninsula rising into a hill studded
with beautiful clumps of trees, then forces its foaming way to the
right, along a huge wall of rock nearly as high as the point where you
stand, and at length, near Chepstow Castle, which looks like a ruined
city, empties itself into the Bristol Channel, where ocean closes the
dim and misty distance.
On this side of the river, before you, the peaked tops of a long ridge
of hills extend along nearly the whole district which your eyes
commands. It is thickly clothed with wood, out of which a continuous
wall of rock festooned with ivy picturesquely rears its head. Over this
ridge you again discern water,--the Severn, five miles broad, thronged
with a hundred white sails, on either shore of which you see blue ridges
of hills full of fertility and rich cultivation.
The grouping of this landscape is perfect: I know of no picture more
beautiful. Inexhaustible in details, of boundless extent, and yet marked
by such grand and prominent features, that confusion and monotony, the
usual defects of a very wide prospect, are completely avoided.
Piercefield Park, which includes the ridge of hills from Wind-cliff to
Chepstow, is therefore without question the finest in England, at least
for situation. It possesses all that Nature can bestow; lofty trees,
magnificent rocks, the most fertile soil, a mild climate favourable to
vegetation of every kind, a clear foaming stream, the vicinity of the
sea, solitude, and, from the bosom of its own tranquil seclusion, a view
into the rich country I have described, which receives a lofty interest
from a ruin the most sublime that the imagination of the finest painter
could conceive,--I mean Chepstow Castle. It covers five acres of ground,
and lies close to the park on the side next the town, though it does not
belong to it.
England is indebted to Cromwell for almost all her ruined castles, as
she is to Henry the Eighth for her crumbling churches and religious
houses. The former were destroyed with fire and sword; the latter only
suppressed, and left to the corroding tooth of time, and the selfishness
and wantonness of man. Both agents have been equally efficacious; and
these two great men have produced an effect they did not contemplate,
but which resembles that of their persons,--a picturesque one. I
strolled through the park on foot, and let the carriage follow by the
high road: I reached the ruin at the verge of twilight, which increased
the awful grandeur of its appearance. The castle contains several
extensive courts, and a chapel; a part of it is in good preservation.
Large nut and yew-trees, orchards and beautiful turf, adorn the
interior; trailing plants of all kinds festoon the walls. In the least
ruinous part of the castle lives a woman with her family, who pays the
Duke of Beaufort, the possessor, a rent, for permission to show the
ruins to strangers, of whom she consequently demands a shilling. You see
that in England, 'on fait flèche de tout bois,' and that an English
nobleman with an income of sixty thousand a year, neither disdains to
take the widow's mite, nor to lay strangers under regular contribution.
To be sure there are some little German sovereigns who unfortunately do
much the same.
Satisfied with the employment of my day, as well as tired with climbing,
and soaked with rain which had fallen within the last hour, I hastened
to my inn, my dishabille, and my dinner,--I felt something unusual in
the pocket of my dressing-gown. I pulled it out surprised; and with
shame I saw--my purse and pocket-book. It but now occurred to me that I
had slipped them into this unaccustomed place from the fear of leaving
them on the table.
This shall serve as a lesson to me for the future, never to draw any
unfavourable conclusions merely from the embarrassment and confusion of
an accused person. The bare thought that others could suspect them may
produce the same symptoms in men of irritable nerves and a quick sense
of honour, as the consciousness of guilt in others. You will trust to
the heart you know so well, that I instantly despatched a letter to my
friend the bookseller, exculpating the host and waiter, and enclosing
two pounds as some compensation to the latter, which I begged him to
deliver with my sincere apologies.--I ate my dinner with more relish
after I had atoned for my offence to the best of my power.