With one more glimpse at the Word-master at his studies we must turn from the philological portions of these volumes : : 275 priest. I came into England twenty-five years ago, | green meadows or bosomed in tufted trees; an old my dear!" mercantile and ecclesiastical city, with a history stretching from the times of the Casars to the times of George III.; the treeless plain, the broad are all in their turn sketched freely and vividly river, the holt, the dingle, the blacksmith's forge, by Mr. Borrow's pencil. ruder life he is unsurpassed; a dog-fight, a prizeIn his portraitures of fight, an ale-house kitchen, Greenwich Fair, a savage group of wandering tinkers, are delineated in words as Wilkie or Hogarth might have depicted them in colours. We are embarrassed by exhibited the student in his solitude and among the riches spread before us; but as we have already Lavengro with the following description of the his companions, we will conclude our notice of present capital of East Anglia : "The next day, as I was seated beside the old woman in the booth, the stranger again made his appearance, and, after a word or two, sat down beside me. The old woman was sometimes reading the Bible, which she had already had two or three days in her possession, and sometimes discoursing with me. Our discourse rolled chiefly on philological matters. "What do you call bread in your language?' said I. "You mean the language of those who bring me things to buy, or who did; for, as I told you before, I shan't buy any more. It's no language of mine, dear. They call bread pannam in their language.' whatever side you will; but it shows best from "A fine old city, truly, is that, view it from "Pannam said I-pannam!-evidently con- the east, where the ground, bold and elevated, nected with, if not derived from, the Latin panis, overlooks the fair and fertile valley in which it even as the word tanner, which signifieth a sixpence, stands. Gazing from those heights, the eye beholds is connected with, if not derived from, the Latin a scene which cannot fail to awaken, even in the tener, which is itself connected with, if not derived least sensitive bosom, feelings of pleasure and from, tawno or tawner, which, in the language of Mr. admiration. Petulengro, signifieth a sucking child. Let me see narrow and deep river, with an antique bridge At the foot of the heights flows a what is the term for bread in the language of Mr. communicating with a long and narrow suburb, Petulengro. Morro or mauro, as I have some- flanked on either side by rich meadows of the times heard it called-is there not some connexion brightest green; beyond which spreads the citybetween these words and panis? Yes, I think the fine old city, perhaps the most curious specimen there is; and I should not wonder if morro, at present extant of the genuine old English town. mauro, and panis were connected, perhaps derived Yes, there it spreads from north to south, with its from the same root; but what is that root? I don't venerable houses, its numerous gardens, its thrice know—I wish I did, thongh perhaps I should not twelve churches, its mighty mound which, if trabe the happier. Morro; Irish, aran; Welsh, bara;dition speaks true, was raised by human hands to English, bread. I can see a resemblance between all the words, and pannam too; and I rather think that the Petulengrian word is the elder. How odd it would be if the language of Mr. Petulengro should eventually turn out to be the mother of all the languages in the world! Yet it is certain that there are some languages in which the terms for bread have no connexion with the words used by Mr. Petulengro, notwithstanding that these languages, in many other points, exhibit a close affinity to the language of the horse-shoe master. For example, bread, in Hebrew, is laham, which assuredly exhibits little similitude to the word used by the aforesaid Petulengro. In Armenian it is"Zhats!' said the stranger, starting up. By the Patriarch and the Three Holy Churches, this is wonderful! How came you to know aught of Armenian ?"" serve as the grave-heap of an old heathen king, who sits deep within it, with his sword in his hand, and his gold and silver treasures about him. There is a grey old castle upon the top of that mighty mound; and yonder, rising three hundred feet above the soil from among those noble foresttrees, behold that old Norman master-work, that cloud-encircled cathedral spire, around which a garrulous array of rooks and choughs continually wheel their flight. Now, who can wonder that the children of that fine old city are proud of her, and offer up prayers for her prosperity? I, myself, who was not born within her walls, offer up prayers for her prosperity, that want may never visit her cottages, vice her palaces, and that the abomination of idolatry may never pollute her temples. Ha, idolatry! the reign of idolatry has been over there for many a long year, never more, We trust that the foregoing extracts have ex- let us hope, to return. Brave hearts in that old hibited enough of one at least of the many aspects town have borne witness against it, and sealed of "Lavengro" to convince the reader that neither is their testimony with their hearts' blood: most it a work to be read cursorily, nor to be handled precious to the Lord is the blood of his saints! easily, by any of the silver-fork school of critics. We are not far from hallowed ground. These volumes are indeed replete with life, with ye not yon chalky precipice to the right of the earnest sympathy for all genuine workers, with Norman bridge? profound insight into the wants and wishes of the above its brow, is a piece of ruined wall, the last On this side of the stream, poor and uneducated, and a lofty disdain of the relics of what was of old a stately pile, whilst at conventional "shams" and pretensions which fetter its foot is a place called the Lollards' Hole; and the spirits or impede the energies of mankind. with good reason, for many a saint of God has Nor is a feeling for the beautiful less conspicuous breathed his last beneath that white precipice, in its pages. A quiet market-town, environed by bearing witness against Popish idolatry, midst Observe 66 flame and pitch; many a grisly procession has the way. People are afraid to put down what is advanced along that suburb, across the old bridge, common on paper, they seek to embellish their towards the Lollards' Hole; furious priests in narratives, as they think, by philosophic speculafront, a calm, pale martyr in the midst, a pitying tions and reflections. They are anxious to shine; multitude behind. It has had its martyrs, the and people who are anxious to shine can never tell venerable old town. a plain story. So I went with them to a music"Ah! there is good blood in that old city, and booth, where they made me almost drunk with gin, in the whole circumjacent region of which it is the and began to talk their flash language, which I capital. The Angles possessed the land at an did not understand,' says, or is made to say, Henry early period, which, however, they were compelled Simms, executed at Tyburn some seventy years to share with hordes of Danes and Northmen, who before the time of which I have been speaking. I flocked thither across the sea to found hearth- have always looked upon this sentence as a mastersteads on its fertile soil. The present race, a mix- piece of the narrative style; it is so concise, yet so ture of Angles and Danes, still preserve much very clear." which speaks strongly of their northern ancestry. We have not touched upon the gipsy scenes in Amongst them ye will find the light brown hair of "Lavengro," because in any work of Mr. Borrow's the north, the strong and burly forms of the north, these will naturally be the first to draw the reader's many a wild superstition, aye, and many a wild attention. Neither have we aimed at abridging or name, connected with the ancient history of the forestalling any portions of a book which has a north and its sublime mythology. The warm heart panoramic unity of its own, and of which scarcely and the strong heart of the old Danes and Saxons a page is without its proper interest. If we have still beats in those regions, and there ye will find, succeeded in persuading our readers to regard Mr. if anywhere, old northern hospitality and kindness Borrow as partly an historian and partly as a poet, of manner, united with energy, perseverance and as well as to look for more in his volumes than dauntless intrepidity: better soldiers or mariners mere excitement or amusement, our purpose is never bled in their country's battles than those attained, and we may securely commend him to nurtured in those regions and within those walls." the goodly company he will find therein-to Mr. Hitherto we have said nothing respecting Mr. Petulengro and Tauno Chikno, to good Peter Borrow's mode of writing. The extracts we have Williams and Mrs. Hearne, to the ubiquitous made, indeed, nearly exempt us from the necessity" priest," to the Armenian merchant, and fair and of commending it. He writes strongly, because stately Isopel Berners. There is only one of Mr. he is fully informed; harmoniously, because, as Borrow's dramatis persone whom, with his story, his verse translations show, he is endowed with a we wish away; and he is the postilion, whose tale fine sense of rhythm; and idiomatically, because of adventure is probably true, and certainly tedious. his favourite models of English, De Foe and Cob- "Lavengro," however, is not concluded; a fourth bett, were, with the single exception of Swift, the volume will explain and gather up much of what greatest masters of prose pure and undefiled." is now somewhat obscure and fragmentary, and In the following passage Mr. Borrow expresses impart a more definite character to the philological indirectly his opinion upon the true excellences of and physiological hints comprised in those now prose narration:before us. Enough, indeed, and more than enough, "Of all my occupations at this period I am free is written to prove that the author possesses, in no to confess I liked that of compiling the 'Newgate ordinary measure, "the vision and the faculty Lives and Trials' the best: that is, after I had divine" for discerning and discriminating what is surmounted a kind of prejudice which I originally noble in man and what is beautiful in nature. We entertained. The trials were entertaining enough, trust Mr. Borrow will speedily bring forth the but the lives-how full they were of wild, racy remaining acts of his "dream of adventure," and adventures, and in what racy, genuine language with good heart and hope pursue his way rejoicing, were they told! What struck me most with regardless of the misconceptions or misrepresentarespect to those lives was the art which the tions of critics who judge through a mist of writers, whoever they were, possessed of telling a conventionalities, and who themselves, whether plain story. It is no easy thing to tell a story travelled or untravelled, have not, like Lavengro, plainly and distinctly by mouth; but to tell one grappled with the deeper thoughts and veracities on paper is difficult indeed, so many snares lie in of human life. CRAIGALLAN CASTLE. CHAPTER XXIII. LUDOVICKO'S TRIUMPH. On the Sunday evening succeeding the Saturday, the events of which were narrated in last chapter, sat Mr. and Mrs. Graham in their summer parlour in Craigallan Castle. The day had been one of surpassing beauty, and the evening was in keeping with it. The setting sun tinged the distant hills with gold, the trees shook gently in the evening breeze, which wafted the perfumes of a thousand flowers to the castle windows, and the low of distant kine mingled harmoniously with the soft bubbling of the little river at the foot of the garden. "All the air a solemn stillness held," and "all save the spirit of man was divine." The reminiscences of last night's entertainment were not pleasant, but neither spoke of it; for both were conscious of shortcomings in the conducting of such matters, and both were of natures too proud and sullen to sit down quietly and dissect their doings with a view to future amendment. Sarah was out visiting a sick cottager; and although her presence at an earlier stage of the evening had appeared to operate as a bar to confidential intercourse, yet, now that she had left, her parents did not appear inclined to profit by her absence, and the scene bore every appearance of dwindling down into one of those silent interviews so often exhibited in married life of a given description. After a long pause, the lady of the house at last opened the conversation. beholding this interesting movement; but to her surprise the door of the parlour opened, and Ludovicko walked in, the very personification of coolness. "I desired the servant, sir, to inform you that we were not at home," said the lady, in towering wrath. "And the servant, madam, duly delivered the message; but, seeing your husband at the window, I thought fit to disregard it." "Oh, of course, you would-ignorant, no doubt, as to the proper meaning of such a phrase as 'not at home."" "I believe, madam," replied Ludovicko, taking a chair with great deliberation, "that I fully understand the import of the phrase; but, as my business is urgent, I did not choose to incur any delay." "But certainly, Mr. Grant," said John, with dignity," you will allow that people should be allowed their own time for transacting business;. and, considering the day and the abruptness, I must say your intrusion is extraordinary." This comes," answered Ludovicko, "of leniency. My business should have been done yester-day. I spared you on account of your grand. party; and now, when I come to-day, I hear side-wind reflections on propriety from people. who are too fashionable to go to church regularly." "Insufferable impudence!" said the lady. "I suppose, sir, you don't imagine that this house is "I rather think," said she, "that we must have our own?" no more of these town canaille." "Indeed, ma'am, I have considerable doubts if it be!" answered the lawyer, drily. His look towards John on making this rejoinder was of the old rattlesnake description, and forth "We must throw ourselves more on the county with John's joints fell a trembling, and a sort of people, Mr. Graham." If they will allow us, my dear." "Allow us, Mr. Graham! What do you mean, Mr. Graham?" “I have no inclination for discussion, my dear; so we will let it pass." 66 paralytic influence came over him. Summoning speech, he requested Mrs. Graham to leave the apartment for a few minutes, in order that the business, whatever it was, might be discussed. Ludovicko, however, stated that there was no occasion for her departure, as he had no secrets to communicate, or, at all events, nothing that could or would be a secret long. The lady, too, declared that she would not leave the room for a Hottentot; and poor John, foreseeing that no kind of business could amicably be adjusted in her "Who is this, Mr. Graham?" said the lady. presence, desired Ludovicko to follow him into the John adjusted his gold eye-glass, and pro-library, whither lights were ordered. Oh, as you please, sir; but I always thought you had low notions." John replied not, and again they sank into their respective reveries, which remained undisturbed until a figure was seen ascending the avenue. nounced the intruder to be Grant the writer. "Marry, come up!" continued Mrs. Graham. "Touch the bell, sir, if you please. Humphrey, tell that person coming up to the door that we are not at home. Matters are come to a fine pass when such as he call of a Sunday." The door-bell rang; and, in the belief that after Humphrey delivered his message Ludovicko would be seen retreating in full feather, madam cast diagonal glances in the expectation of speedily VOL. XVIII.- NO. CCIX. "Now," said John, "you come here with bad news." "Rather in that way," answered Ludovicko laconically. "Tell me the worst at once." "Well, then, your brother left a will!" John sank down on a chair, and gasped hard for breath. "Why was it not produced sooner ?" "He delivered it to me in a sealed packet, with U directions outside that it should not be opened for | dually came round, Ludovicko, in the interim, six years." "And yet you, knowing its contents, have allowed me to be in this position for six years!-God forgive you!" 'I was not bound to know the contents of a sealed packet put into my hands by a client." "What could be my brother's object for such a hellish deception ?" "To do, probably, what most people who know you would do-punish you in a new and unheardof way." Don't insult me, sir! I believe the story is a lying invention of your own. I have possession, and defy you to put me out." "Possession! pooh, that is a small matter. I was lately left a small estate by an uncle. He had not properly served himself heir. A canal was driven through it, and I have not got one farthing of compensation. If I, an experienced lawyer, have been thus done, how can you, who never took a single legal step, expect to be able to maintain your position?" "I shall take other advice than yours, sir; and you know I have means to defend my rights, and to break through a trumpery will produced at this time of day." "We shall see!" rejoined Ludovicko, with provoking coolness. "And as to advice, you may take the Lord Advocate's, if you think proper, only take this along with you as to means, that I have only to lift my little finger, and your whole rents and moneys are arrested, and you and your family quit this place till the question is settled at law. Where will your means be then? Nay, more, you are liable to the heir for all the rents you have drawn since you came into possession; and if that be insisted on, you may, at his pleasure, lie in jail until you rot, or pay the amount with interest up to the very day that you were ejected, which latter alternative, judging from your old habits, you are not likely to do till doomsday. Trumpery will, indeed! I drew the will with my own hand; and I am not in the habit of allowing anything of a trumpery character to pass through my fingers." John's face turned livid during the enunciation of these terrible words; and, as his eyes rolled in frenzy, it seemed doubtful if reason or life would first desert him. He raised his knees to his chin, shrugged up his shoulders, and bit his nails like a maniac, all the while uttering nothing but exclamations for mercy, expressed in the most childish tone. Mercy, mercy-help! save!" cried the distracted man. 06 Ludovicko's hour of triumph was now come, and he looked at him calmly and steadily. No chuckle or laugh was on his face; but the satanic eye was there, and seemed to pierce his victim through and through. "Good Mr. Grant, don't look at me!-don't look at me, if you please!-don't look! Mercy, mercy!" "Be calm, sir. I came here to do business with you, not to hear you blubber like a school-boy. When you can talk rationally I shall resume the conversation." John paced up and down the room and gra reading a newspaper. This, more than anything else, tended to restore the balance of John's mind, as he felt ashamed at his excitement when contrasted with Grant's irritating nonchalance. "Who is the will in favour of?" asked John, sharply. "His son." "It must be false! He never had a son." 'Not, perhaps, that you know of; but he was privately married, and had a son to my certain knowledge." ""Tis false, I say! It must have been a low intrigue; and there can be no child of his who has legal claim." "Softly. He married my cousin, and in my own presence; and I myself dictated the marriagecertificate, and saw the officiating clergyman sign it." Again John trembled from head to foot. "But for fear that there should be any mistake on this score, I drew out the will thus-hear the clause as I read it from the document: 'I give and bequeath my whole property, real and personal, to William Morison Graham, my son, or my reputed son, or the son of Mary Morison, my wife, or my reputed wife.' I think the term is pretty close, and no room for litigation; but if you think otherwise, Mr. Graham, try-try!" "Where is this Morison that you speak of ?" "In my office, where he has been for the last six years. I bound him for that period; and his apprenticeship expired on Saturday, the very day that I was entitled to open the will. And truly a good inheritance the young man will have; he will never need to work so hard as his reputed uncle has done." "Is that the will you have got in your hand?" Yes." 66 "Show it to me, if you please." Ludovicko handed him the paper, and John, clutching it like a tiger, made a desperate effort to tear it; but being folded up, he failed in the attempt. Gnashing his teeth in fury, he renewed his manipulations, exclaiming, "If I tear this accursed thing to pieces, as I will do, although you should pluck my heart's blood from me, where will you and your infernal nephew or cousin be then? Ha! ha!" "Where we were before. Don't give yourself unnecessary uneasiness, that is only a copy. The original lies in my safe, written on durable parchment. And even supposing that you destroyed it, there is such a thing as a register-office. Do you really think that I am such a fool as to beard a lion in his den without using every precaution beforehand ?” "You forget, sir, there is one precaution you have not taken." "What is it, pray?" "Your own life! Look at me much more with those mocking eyes of yours, and by Him who made me you shall not leave this place alive! You have made me a desperate man, and your blood be upon your own head." Ludovicko was hardly prepared for this; but his habitual composure did not forsake him, and he scrupled not to lie for the nonce. "Even there," said the wily scrivener, "I have been beforehand with you. I left on my desk a memorandum of my exit; and if any violence be used you will be the first to repent of it." Again Ludovicko fixed his fascinating look on John, and again John sunk under its deadly influence. A long pause ensued, which was eventually broken by the writer. "I think," said that worthy, " that I have shown youvery clearly your state-that you are thoroughly in my power, that the meshes are completely around you, and that there is not so much as a maggot-hole by which you can by the barest possibility escape. What say you?-do you capitulate, give in at once, or die game?" John returned no answer, and there was another pause. "Am I to wait all night for your decision?" Still no reply. At length John rose, and coming forward to Ludovicko asked him if young Morison knew about the will or its contents. "Not a word," replied Ludovicko. "In fact, between you and me, his demeanour has not been so correct as I could have wished it; for the prospect of so much wealth would have fairly turned his head, and made him quite unmanageable." Is there any way of his finding out the will without your telling him?" None whatever." “Well, then—” said John, stopping short. Could we not compromise between us?" "Of course! Is that not what I came here for?" John stared. Roguery in his own mind sprang up with a struggle, was expressed by his lips with a greater effort; and now, when Grant so frankly agreed to become his accomplice in fraud, he felt strange misgivings as to the impolicy and danger of any evil paction with such an accomplished villain. The candles had well-nigh burnt to their sockets during the interview, and the library being long and narrow they barely made darkness visible; and John's fears magnified the dimness of the apartment into a species of unearthly gloom. The extremes of hope and fear, bullying and cowardice, through which he had passed, together with the old abyss of poverty yawning before him in greater terribleness than ever, had quite unhinged the mind of John Graham, and he could not command the necessary mental decision to think coherently. Pacing up and down, he cast his eye by chance on the portrait of his brother, and shrank from its look, appearing, as it did, to be frowning on him, as if in anticipation of the premeditated evil design being consummated. "What do you propose?" asked Ludovicko. "What do you?" asked John, in return. "Nay, I propose nothing; you, as the defeated party, must propose, and it will be for me to consider if I will accept." seemed to issue from Godfrey's portrait on the wall. "Merciful Heavens !" ejaculated John, "what is that?" "I don't know," said Ludovicko, in some confusion; "it must be somebody outside. But go on, only speak lower." "I cannot go on-I'm frightened to very death." "Pshaw! nonsense! Mere imagination! How much did you say you would give ?-speak, now!" "I will give-" "BEWARE!" cried the voice, in a tone bold and distinct. "Oh, mercy!" shrieked John, and down he fell in a trance. Ludovicko rang the bell instantly, and without the delay of a second Mrs. Graham entered the library. "You have been listening, madam," said Grant sternly;" and it is you that have been raising these noises and frightening your husband. But do not attempt to thwart me, or both shall inevitably be hurled to ruin." "On my soul," returned the now humbled woman, "I know nothing about the noises. I heard them just as you heard them, I know nothing more of them than you do. The old people say the house is haunted." You "Twaddle! Mere twaddle! Mark me! have more sense than your husband; tutor him well, and see that he compromises with a fair grace. Be reasonable with me, and you may get on; but oppose me in the smallest tittle, and you and he are ruined totally and irremediably. Do you hear? The servants are coming; keep your own counsel. I shall call again shortly." Ludovicko left, and John Graham was carried to his bed-room. His wife and daughter tended him all night, and Dr. Anthony Fitzgibbon was sent for by express. He exhausted all his skill, but no drugs could minister to a mind diseased; and Mrs. Graham had the utmost difficulty in preventing her husband, in the course of his incoherent ravings, from saying something that might lead to the public disclosure of the fatal communication that had been made on that miserable night. All the luxuries of the castle seemed to be converted into rottenness and dead men's bones; the fairest apartments were like charnel-houses; the gold was like molten lead; and the trees bore no fruit but death. O dread delusion! thus to make the latter end of that miserable pair more wretched than at the first. O hollow glitter and gew-gaw! thus to plunge them into a deeper and more withering despair than crushed them when your tinsel first beckoned them forth from the house of poverty. CHAPTER XXIV. REMORSE. PRECISELY at ten o'clock, as was his wont, did Mr. Alfred Day, of the Ship Bank, descend from his breakfast to business. The vertical bolt having "Well, then, I will give you-" been previously drawn up, it only remained that "Beware!" cried an unknown voice, which the safe should be opened. One section containU 2 |