From my childhood upwards my father had, with pertinacious care, instilled into my mind that an universal benevolence was one of the chief dictates of society. Christian charity, and brotherly love one toward another, were in my father's opinion the noblest attributes of our nature; and daily were these sentiments practised by the good old man at our humble parsonage gate, as all the vagrant train-the sick, the lame, the blind, and halt, full well knew—

Careless their merits or their faults to scan,

He pity gave ere charity began.

With such opinions, then, firmly implanted in my breast, with such sentiments firmly engraved on my heart, with the glorious example of such a father constantly recurring to my thoughts,-unsophisticated by the mammon of this life-ambitious, yet charitable,-I looked upon this world as a vast parterre of verdure, riches, and goodness, peopled by unsophisticated men. My first fortnight at Oxford, however, dispelled these day-dream illusions, and laid the foundation of that strength of mind to bear the buffets and storms, and afflictions and disappointments, of my after-life. I found boys who were yesterday fags at Eton, or having their shins kicked at Harrow, suddenly transformed to men. The transition was as electric as one of Herr Doobler's pythonic deceptions. The white cravat was changed for the fashionable tie, or the round jacket for the blue surtout, and the chrysalis was complete. I was ambitious; I yearned for honours, and for a name and for renown; but I was not so besotted by selfishness as to feel hatred and jealousy towards a more fortunate competitor who had outstripped me in the race to fame. The great Johnson, in a conversation with Dr. Burney, observed, "No man is angry at another for being inferior to himself." Might not that great moralist have still further seen, and said, "How few men are freed from the leaven of malice and jealousy at the success and promotion of another!" In the bitterness of the struggle of life have these sentiments been wrung from my heart! I am not one of your mawkish sentimentalists who looks upon a man as naturally vicious and bad because he has a good coat on his back, and the price of his dinner in his pocket; nor yet can I deify the dirty young urchin who has been removed from the sinks of iniquity in St. Giles to Pentonville Prison for picking an old gentleman's pocket; but when I saw myself a victim to a system which seemed to indemnify itself by inflicting indignities for conferring benefits,—when I saw the boy of yesterday with all the vices of manhood, but unrestrained by the virtues of age and experience, when I saw the lordling, who had been kicked and cuffed at Eton for not having the tea-table spread, or the beer brought from Jack Knight's, or well swished for his stupidity over his Virgil or verses, flattered and indulged at Oxford, simply because he wore a gold tuft, and had a title prefixed to his name, and when I saw the goal of honours was attained by them, not through the rugged path of study and of exertion, of sleepless nights, and of wear and tear of body and of mind, but by the easy road of interest and connexion,my blood and indignation then boiled within me, and made me despise a world that could with such sordid loyalty give title, knee, and approbation to prosperous semblances, and fall down and worship tricked-out pump-handles!

After three years hard study at Christ Church, I went up for my degree in class; and trust that I may not be deemed to be egotistical by my readers when I further add, I took it, and a "double first." As my mind turned back in retrospection over that period, methought it the dark page in the book of life; as I now turn upon a mournful and troubled existence, how bitterly the fallacy thrusts itself upon my thoughts. I had been caught, as it were a Shetland pony, on my native hills of Cumberland, rough, shaggy, and unbroken. I had been brought and tutored in the manège of learning, science, and art; and painful as the bit be when first placed in the animal's mouth, or the spurs when first applied to his flanks, I verily believe the training of an unsophisticated, artless lad into the polished cosmopolite, or the refined man of letters, is not more so.

may

"to

"Oxford is a jolly place!" "Old Christ Church for ever!" "The happiest time of my life was spent at college!" are the general exclamations of my Lord Happletree, or Sir Derby Rattleaway. True-granted; but then you had your four days a week on old Weller's horses with "the Heythrop;" you had your wine-parties, and your boatingparties, and your tandem-driving, and your flights up to town to close the eyes of dying grandmothers (for which read, " to see the Opera and Almack's"); but I will take leave to say you never composed an Iambic in your life, nor pored over Herodotus or Homer, except when reduced to the English prose, aided by graphic similes of the "ring," or London life, of your "coach!" Oh, ye of purple and fine linen! you little know what it is to suffer poverty amongst plenty, nor the taunting pangs of worldly inferiority, trampled on by a blind and selfish superiority!

I sincerely trust that my readers may not, from the foregoing remarks, prejudge me, and form the hasty conclusion that I, because I have railed against my social position at college, must necessarily be some soured. misanthrope or sordid votarist, who would exclaim with Timon of Athens, "Destruction fang mankind." Far otherwise. Those lines were penned in the heyday of my youth, when my feelings were more sensitive to injury or insult, and ere I had mingled in the world, and learnt by experience the distinctions Society vouchsafed to rank and wealth. I now fervently trust that a ten years' ministry in the service of my God has so tempered my mind and disposition to a more humble and patient frame, that I may be now deemed a meet subject for "holding the mystery of faith in a pure conscience," and a wholesome example of the flock of Christ, my Saviour!

My readers may still further imagine that my college career was totally unmarked by any friendships whatever; but I had a few. Some in my own grade of life, who are now toiling up the rugged path to preferment and competency, and others, too; but in these I have been singularly unfortunate in any assistance. Sir Raby Harkaway, for instancea good-humoured, round-faced, powerfully-built young baronet-swore by everything emphatic that I should have the advowson of a fat living in his gift; but before he could put his charitable design into execution, he unfortunately dislocated his neck while riding a match across country against Captain Popkins, of the "Heavies." Lord Sanscrit, again, was my firm friend. I wrote his themes and iambics, and he promised that I, and I only, should be his chaplain, with a snug contingency of I don't

know how many family livings; but my aspiring hopes were hardly raised but to be crushed, for, a month after, my lord eloped with a skip's daughter, and brought his own life as well as scandal to a climax by being shipwrecked off Tunis; while my excellent friend Eastwood, afterwards a missionary bishop, was served up as a bonne bouche for a chieftain in Owyhee; and B-ne is far too much engrossed with the affairs of Downing-street to turn his mighty mind to so humble an individual as your most obedient servant.

I took a long and lasting farewell of old Christ Church, and departed for the silvery glades, rural retreats, and snug parsonage of my father in Cumberland, where I continued my readings preparatory to taking holy orders; and after passing the examination of the chaplain, I was duly admitted into the sacred ministry by the Archbishop of York, and from thence I accepted the office of curate to a very excellent, but very poor, clergyman in that diocese, where the qualification for the title of priest, on account of his extreme poverty, was deemed an equivalent for my services. After a sojourn here for twelve months, which, from the quiet, blameless life, the unaffected piety, and childlike innocence of my worthy rector, was one of the white specks on "memory's waste," I left the blessed retreat of piety and peace for the noise, the turmoil, and callo usness of a London life, where I obtained the appointment of preacher in one of the large churches in that vast city. To attempt to describe the accumulation of crime, filth, and pestilence, which pervaded the vicinity of my cure, would be sufficiently ample and important for a separate paper, and, at the same time, however interesting the details might be to the moral economist or politician, I very much doubt whether they would be equally admissible to the favour and amusement of the general reader.

My stipend was small indeed; my duties many and arduous, and withal I had to turn to the labour of the pen, and endeavour, by literary job work, to eke out a sufficient subsistence, and a moderate supply of the humblest articles of raiment.

It was a dreary autumnal evening, when the equinoctial winds were raising from the streets a thousand little eddies of dust and dirt, and whirling them up dark alleys and down by-streets, and into people's eyes, and against well-cleaned panes-when it was dark and dreary and cold without-when the tumult and din of business had ceased, and the streets were deserted save by the houseless wanderers or the hurrying wayfarers, that I sat in my lonely room poring, by the midnight taper, over an Essay which I was compelled to finish by the morrow for one of the literary reviews. For some hours I had worked hard at my subject. I had followed up my proposition, step by step, subjoining a continued argument, regular dissertations, proofs and explanations thereon, when, on arriving at the concluding issue, my brain, from continued exertion, became so confused, my system so fevered, and my pulse so high, that I found it utterly impossible to proceed. The printer's boy was to call punctually at nine in the morning; I, therefore, thought my only chance of obtaining fresh inspiration was by taking a turn in the street and getting a mouthful of fresh air to clear my brain. I seized my hat and reached the streets; the night was dark and lowering, and a ragged and tattered beggar predicted it would be a "dirty night, yer honour." I

paid but little attention to his words, but journeyed onwards. My mind was carried away by the stream of thought. I again commenced the argument on which I had been engaged. I worked up the proposition from the commencement, and I had just arrived at the issue when a few large drops of rain fell heavily on the pavement, quickly followed up by a sharp shower, so that I pretty plainly saw that, except I hurried my movements and reached some hospitable shelter, I should be very soon drenched to the skin. After a few seconds' walk I beheld the very place I was in search of, and turning down the covered entry I discovered that the retreat was already occupied by a young girl, whose tawdry finery, summer raiment and dripping parasol, but too plainly and painfully indicated her calling and course of life.

"I am afraid it will be a rainy night, sir," observed the girl, after a silence of some five minutes, during which time we had watched the shower and the cataracts of rain as they rushed down the gutters.

"I am afraid so," I replied, fidgeting about, and feeling loth to form the acquaintance of such a person; and then I continued muttering to myself, "I am afraid I shall be wet through before I get home."

"Home!" exclaimed the girl, with such a bitter emphasis, that I felt a thrill run through my whole frame; "home! there is no home for the wicked."

I remained silent, and attentively examined my companion. Her features were singularly regular and prepossessing, her eye soft and melting, and her glossy hair clustered over a brow fair, smooth, and bright with intelligence; and, though penury and care had set their ravages on her pallid cheeks, she had still the vestiges of great beauty.

"Be still awhile, remorseless prejudice, and let the genuine feelings of thy soul avow they do not truly honour virtue who can insult the erring heart that would return to her sanctuary," said the girl, looking me full in the face, as if she read my thoughts.

I was struck by the words; more so, perhaps, than had I been a playgoing man, and known they were a quotation from "The Stranger." My conscience struck me. My heavenly Example had herded with publicans and with sinners, and poured the balm of consolation into the repentant heart of the unfortunate and the unfriended.

"I am afraid this rain will delay you," I observed, "and cause anxiety friends."

to your

"Friends, sir? I have none; nor home, nor parents. Lost! - all lost!-happiness here and hereafter. I am alone on the wide world of life, without one pitying heart, one soothing, sympathising breast, or one gentle mind who would hold out the hand of kindness to the lost child of sin and sorrow."

"But, my poor girl, your own folly or wickedness must have brought you to this state," I replied. "Your words bespeak a better station, and no ordinary advantages of education."

"It was, sir; it was," exclaimed the girl, bursting into tears; "it was, sir. Love with women is their sole existence; and-and I loved him with the life of passion; and as Shakspeare says, sir,

For stony limits cannot hold love out,

And what love can do that dares love attempt."

"Rest assured, such sophistry as that, from its very reasoning, is certain ruin to any girl,” I said. However, you mentioned home just now in such a bitter strain, that I almost fear you have not the means of procuring a night's lodging."

"You are right, sir; I have not. And believe me when I say I have not tasted a morsel of food this day, although I have had to feign the winning smile and happy look, as if no canker gnawed my heart."

"Poor child!" was my only exclamation, and with a deep sigh I emptied the contents of my scanty purse, small as it was, and breakfastless as it would leave me, into her hands.

66

"May the blessings of an all-seeing Providence be showered down upon your head," fervently said the girl. And, believe me, if the prayers of a lost, degraded woman availeth aught in the presence of the Mercy-seat, they will be freely offered up this night for your happiness and welfare. And think not, because some of our sex have, through inveterate vice and ignorance, fallen into such a course of life, and sunk so low in pollution and crime that the headsprings of their every attributes of Good are dried up, and their sole aim is to satisfy an unsatiable thirst for ardent spirits-for they sacrifice life and immortality, not for love and affection, but the gin-bottle-until their presence is a loathing, and their approach a deadly pestilence, that we are all in the same scale and class. Nay, believe me, the majority of us unfortunates have fallen through misplaced confidence or the villany of false men, and have enjoined on ourselves, by the pangs of conscience, a more anguishing punishment than ever emanated from the fertile brains of the most cruel of tyrants; and that we would give half our future lives to be allowed repentance and an asylum where we might save our souls alive, and be at peace with all."

As the weather had changed, and the rain ceased, and a policeman -who had quite overlooked the bacchanalian strains of a very drunken mechanic, who was loudly proclaiming in the neighbourhood that he would not go home till morning, or, rather, until daylight did appear-and had come over the street, and ordered us "to move on, and not to be a collecting in the public thoroughfares," I thought it best to return to my rooms and my study; so, wishing the girl a good night, I made an appointment with her for the morrow, when I was to hear her tale of woe, and, I trusted, to attain a reconciliation and forgiveness for her from her friends.