his debts, his troubles at the Little-go, and his rows with the proctors, filling rapidly from the bottles before him, and flying from port to madeira with joyous activity.

The chief pleasure which my aunt has," said Mr. Crawley, filling his glass, is that people should do as they like in her house. This is Liberty Hall, James, and you can't do Miss Crawley a greater kindness than to do as you please, and ask for what you will. I know you have all sneered at me in the country for being a Tory. Miss Crawley is liberal enough to suit any fancy. She is a Republican in principle, and despises everything like rank or title.'

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Why are you going to marry an earl's daughter?' said James.

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My dear friend, remember it is not poor Lady Jane's fault that she is well born,' Pitt replied, with a courtly air. She cannot help being a lady. Besides, I am a Tory, you know.'

Oh, as for that," said Jim, 'there's nothing like old blood; no, dammy, nothing like it. I'm none of your Radicals. I know what it is to be a gentleman, dammy. See the chaps in a boat-race; look at the fellers in a fight; aye, look at a dawg killing rats,--which is it wins? the good blooded ones. Get some more port, Bowls, old boy, whilst I buzz this bottle here. What was I a-saying?'

'I think you were speaking of dogs killing rats,' Pitt remarked mildly, handing his cousin the decanter to buzz'.

Killing rats was I? Well, Pitt, are you a sporting man? Do you want to see a dawg as can kill a rat? If you do, come down with me to Tom Corduroy's, in Castle Street Mews, and I'll show you such a bull-terrier as- -Pooh! gammon, cried James, bursting out laughing at his own absurdityyou don't care about a dawg or rat; it's all nonsense. I'm blest if I think you know the difference between a dog and a duck.'

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'No; by the way,' Pitt continued with increased blandness, it was about blood you were talking, and the personal advantages which people derive from patrician birth. Here's the fresh bottle.'

'Blood's the word,' said James, gulping the ruby fluid down. Nothing like blood, sir, in hosses, dawgs, and men. Why, only last term, just before I was rusticated, that is, I mean just before I had the measles, ha, ha,—there was me and Ringwood of Christchurch, Bob Ringwood, Lord

Cinqbar's son, having our beer at the "Bell" at Blenheim, when the Banbury bargeman offered to fight either of us for a bowl of punch. I couldn't. My arm was in a sling; couldn't even take the drag down, a brute of a mare of mine had fell with me only two days before, out with the Abingdon, and I thought my arm was broke. Well, sir, I couldn't finish him, but Bob had his coat off at once-he stood up to the Banbury man for three minutes, and polished him off in four rounds easy. Gad, how he did drop, sir, and

what was it? Blood, sir, all blood.'

You don't drink, James,' the ex-attaché continued. In my time at Oxford, the men passed round the bottle a little quicker than you young fellows seem to do.'

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'Come, come,' said James, putting his hand to his nose and winking at his cousin with a pair of vinous eyes, no jokes, old boy; no trying it on on me. You want to trot me out, but it's no go. In vino veritas, old boy. Mars, Bacchus, Apollo virorum, hey? I wish my aunt would send down some of this to the governor; it's a precious good tap.'

You had better ask her,' Machiavel continued, or make the best of your time now. What says the bard, Nunc vino pellite curas Cras ingens iterabimus aequor,' and the Bacchanalian, quoting the above with a House of Commons air, tossed off nearly a thimbleful of wine with an immense flourish of his glass.

At the Rectory, when the bottle of port wine was opened after dinner, the young ladies had each a glass from a bottle of currant wine. Mrs. Bute took one glass of port, honest James had a couple commonly, but as his father grew very sulky if he made further inroads on the bottle, the good lad generally refrained from trying for more, and subsided either into the currant wine, or to some private gin-andwater in the stables, which he enjoyed in the company of the coachman and his pipe. At Oxford, the quantity of wine was unlimited, but the quality was inferior: but when quantity and quality united, as at his aunt's house, James showed that he could appreciate them indeed; and hardly needed any of his cousin's encouragement in draining off the second bottle supplied by Mr. Bowls.

When the time for coffee came, however, and for a return to the ladies, of whom he stood in awe, the young gentleman's agreeable frankness left him, and he relapsed into his usual surly timidity: contenting himself by saying yes and

4

no, by scowling at Lady Jane, and by upsetting one cup of coffee during the evening.

If he did not speak he yawned in a pitiable manner, and his presence threw a damp upon the modest proceedings of the evening, for Miss Crawley and Lady Jane at their piquet, and Miss Briggs at her work, felt that his eyes were wildly fixed on them, and were uneasy under that maudlin look. He seems a very silent, awkward, bashful lad,' said Miss Crawley to Mr. Pitt.

He is more communicative in men's society than with ladies,' Machiavel drily replied: perhaps rather disappointed that the port wine had not made Jim speak more.

He had spent the early part of the next morning in writing home to his mother a most flourishing account of his reception by Miss Crawley. But ah! he little knew what evils the day was bringing for him, and how short his reign of favour was destined to be. A circumstance which Jim had forgotten-a trivial but fatal circumstance-had taken place at the 'Cribb's Arms' on the night before he had come to his aunt's house. It was no other than this-Jim, who was always of a generous disposition, and when in his cups especially hospitable, had in the course of the night treated the Tutbury champion and the Rottingdean man, and their friends, twice or thrice to the refreshment of gin-andwater-so that no less than eighteen glasses of that fluid at eight pence per glass were charged in Mr. James Crawley's bill. It was not the amount of eightpences, but the quantity of gin which told fatally against poor James's character, when his aunt's butler, Mr. Bowls, went down at his mistress's request to pay the young gentleman's bill. The landlord, fearing lest the account should be refused altogether, swore solemnly that the young gent had consumed personally every farthing's worth of the liquor and Bowls paid the bill finally, and showed it on his return home to Mrs. Firkin, who was shocked at the frightful prodigality of gin; and took the bill to Miss Briggs as accountantgeneral; who thought it her duty to mention the circumstance to her principal, Miss Crawley.

Had he drunk a dozen bottles of claret the old spinster could have pardoned him. Mr. Fox and Mr. Sheridan drank claret. Gentlemen drank claret. But eighteen glasses of gin consumed among boxers in an ignoble pothouse-it was an odious crime and not to be pardoned

readily. Everything went against the lad: he came home perfumed from the stables, whither he had been to pay his dog Towzer a visit and whence he was going to take his friend out for an airing, when he met Miss Crawley and her wheezy Blenheim spaniel, which Towzer would have eaten up had not the Blenheim fled squealing to the protection of Miss Briggs, while the atrocious master of the bulldog stood laughing at the horrible persecution.

This day too the unlucky boy's modesty had likewise forsaken him. He was lively and facetious at dinner. During the repast he levelled one or two jokes against Pitt Crawley he drank as much wine as upon the previous day; and going quite unsuspiciously to the drawing-room, began to entertain the ladies there with some choice Oxford stories. He described the different pugilistic qualities of Molyneux and Dutch Sam, offered playfully to give Lady Jane the odds upon the Tutbury Pet against the Rottingdean man, or take them, as her ladyship chose and crowned the pleasantry by proposing to back himself against his cousin Pitt Crawley, either with or without the gloves. And that's a fair offer, my buck,' he said with a loud laugh, slapping Pitt on the shoulder, and my father told me to make it too, and he'll go halves in the bet, ha, ha!' So saying, the engaging youth nodded knowingly at poor Miss Briggs, and pointed his thumb over his shoulder at Pitt Crawley in a jocular and exulting manner.

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Pitt was not pleased altogether perhaps, but still not unhappy in the main. Poor Jim had his laugh out and staggered across the room with his aunt's candle, when the old lady moved to retire, and offered to salute her with the blandest tipsy smile: and he took his own leave and went upstairs to his bedroom perfectly satisfied with himself, and with a pleased notion that his aunt's money would be left to him in preference to his father and all the rest of the family.

Once up in the bedroom, one would have thought he could not make matters worse; and yet this unlucky boy did. The moon was shining very pleasantly out on the sea, and Jim, attracted to the window by the romantic appearance of the ocean, and the heavens, thought he would farther enjoy them while smoking. Nobody would smell the tobacco, he thought, if he cunningly opened the window and kept his head and pipe in the fresh air. This he did but

being in an excited state, poor Jim had forgotten that his door was open all this time, so that the breeze blowing inwards and a fine thorough draught being established, the clouds of tobacco were carried downstairs, and arrived with quite undiminished fragrance to Miss Crawley and Miss Briggs.

That pipe of tobacco finished the business: and the ButeCrawleys never knew how many thousand pounds it cost

1

them. Firkin rushed downstairs to Bowls, who was reading out the Fire and the Frying-Pan to his aide de camp in a loud and ghostly voice. The dreadful secret was told to him by Firkin with so frightened a look, that for the first moment Mr. Bowls and his young man thought that robbers were in the house; the legs of whom had probably been discovered by the woman under Miss Crawley's bed. When made aware of the fact however to rush upstairs at three steps at a time-to enter the unconscious James's apartment, calling out, Mr. James,' in a voice stifled with alarm,