VIYIAN GKEY. 
 
 *' Why then the ^roi-ld 's mine oyster, 
 Which I with sword will open." 
 
 "by b. diseaeli, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " THE TOUNG DtJKB," " ALROT," ETC. 
 
 A NEW EDITION. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 ROUTLEDGE, WARNES, AND ROUTLEDGE, 
 
 FARRINGDON STREET. 
 1859. 
 
 _ 
 

 REPLACING ^59366 
 
\«^ 
 
 \ 
 
 / ? 6 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 Books written by boys, which pretend to give a 
 picture of manners, and to deal in knowledge of hu- 
 man nature, must necessarily be founded on affec- 
 tation. They can be, at the best, but the results of 
 imagination, acting upon knowledge not acquired by 
 experience. Of such circumstances, exaggeration is a 
 necessary consequence, and false taste accompanies 
 exaggeration. Nor is it necessary to remark that a 
 total want of art must be observed in their pages, for 
 that is a failing incident to all first efforts. When the 
 writers of such books are not again heard of, the 
 works, even if ever noticed, are soon forgotten, and 
 so thei'e is no great harm done. But, when their 
 authors subsequently become eminent, such works often 
 obtain a peculiar interest, and are sought for from 
 causes irrespective of their merits. Such productions 
 should be exempt from criticism, and should be looked 
 upon as a kind of literary lusus. 
 
 These observations apply to " Vivian Grey.^^ For \ 
 more than a quarter of a century its author has re- | 
 fused to reprint it; but the action of the foreign j 
 presses in the present day, especially in the United 
 States and Germany, renders an author no longer the 
 master of his own will. It has, therefore, been 
 thought best to include it in this general edition of 
 his works, and so it is hoped that it will be read with 
 an indulgent recollection of the conditions under which 
 it was produced. 
 
 November, 1853. 
 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 We are not aware that the infancy of Vivian Grey was distin- 
 guished by any extraordinary incident. The solicitude of the 
 most affectionate of mothers, and the care of the most attentive 
 of nurses, did their best to injure an excellent constitution. But 
 Vivian was an only child, and these exertions were therefore ex- 
 cusable. For the first five years of liis life, with his curly locks and 
 his fancy dress, he was the pride of his own, and the envy of all 
 neighbouring establishments ; but, in process of time, the spirit of 
 boyism began to develope itself, and Vivian not only would brush his 
 hair straight and rebel against his nurse, but actually insisted upon 
 
 being breeched ! At this crisis it was discovered that he had 
 
 been spoiled, and it was determined that he should be sent to 
 school. Mr. Grey observed, also, that the child was nearly ten 
 years old, and did not know his alphabet, and Mrs. Grey remai'ked, 
 that he was getting very ugly. The fate of Vivian was decided. 
 
 " I am told, my dear," observed Mrs. Grey, one day after dinner 
 to her husband, " I am told, my dear, that Dr. Flummery's would 
 do very well for Vivian. Nothing can exceed the attention which 
 is paid to the pupils. There are sixteen young ladies, all the 
 daughters of clergymen, merely to attend to the morals and the 
 linen — terms very moderate — 100 guineas per annum, for all under 
 six years of age, and few extras, only for fencing, pure milk, and 
 the guitar. Mrs. Metcalfe has both her boys there, and she says 
 their progress is astonishing! Percy Metcalfe, she assures me, 
 was quite as backward as Vivian — indeed, much backwarder ; and 
 so was Dudley, who was taught at home on the new system, by a 
 pictorial alphabet, and who persisted to the last, notwithstanding 
 all the exertions of Miss Barrett, in spelling A-P-E— monkey, 
 merely because over the word, there was a monster munching an 
 apple." 
 
C VIVIAN GKET. 
 
 " And quite riglit in the child, my dear — Pictorial alphabet ! — 
 pictorial fool's head ! " 
 
 " But what do you say to Flummery's, Horace ? " 
 
 " My dear, do what you like. I never trouble myself, you 
 know, about these mattei's;" and Mr. Grey refreshed himself, 
 after this domestic attack, with a glass of claret. 
 
 Mr. Grey was a gentleman who had succeeded, when the heat 
 of youth was over, to the enjoyment of a life estate of some two 
 thousand a-year. He was a man of lettered tastes, and had 
 hailed with no slight pleasure his succession to a fortune which, 
 though limited in its duration, was still a very great thing for a 
 young lounger about town; not only with no profession, but 
 with a mind unfitted for every species of business. Grey, to the 
 astonishment of his former friends, the wits, made an excellent 
 domestic match; and, leaving the whole management of his 
 household to his lady, felt himself as independent in his magni- 
 ficent library, as if he had never ceased to be that true freeman, a 
 
 MAN OF CHAMBERS. , 
 
 The young Vivian had not, by the cares which fathers are 
 always heirs to, yet reminded his parent, that children were any- 
 thing else but playthings. The intercourse between father and 
 son was, of course, extremely limited ; for Vivian was, as yet, 
 the mother's child ; Mr. Grey's parental duties being confined to 
 giving his son a daily glass of claret, pulling his ears with all the 
 awkwardness of literary affection, and trusting to God " that the 
 urchin would never scribble." 
 
 " I won't go to school, mamma," bawled Vivian. 
 
 " But you must, my love," answered Mrs. Grey ; " all good 
 boys go to school ;" and in the plenitude of a mother's love, she 
 tried to make her offspring's hair curl. 
 
 " I won't have my hair curl, mamma ; the boys will laugh at 
 me," rebawled the beauty. 
 
 "Now who could have told the child that?" monologised 
 mamma, with all a mamma's admiration. 
 
 '• Charles Appleyard told me so — his haii" cm-led, and the 
 boys called him girl. Papa ! give me some more claret — I 
 won't go to school." 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 Three or four years passed over, and the mind of Vivian 
 Grey most astonishingly developed itself. He had long ceased to 
 wear frills, had broached the subject of boots three or four times, 
 made a sad inroad during the holidays in IMr. Grey's aforesaid 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 7 
 
 bottle of claret, and was reported as having- once sworn at the 
 footman. The young- gentleman began also to hint, during 
 every vacation, that the fellows at Flummery's were somewhat too 
 small for his companionship, and (first bud of puppyism!) the 
 former advocate of straight hair, now expended a portion of his 
 infant income in the purchase of Macassar, and began to cultivate 
 his curls. Mrs. Grey could not entertain, for a moment, the idea 
 of her son's associating with cliildren, the eldest of whom (to 
 adopt his own account) was not above eight years old ; so 
 Flummery, it was determined, he should leave. But where to go ? 
 Mr. Grey was for Eton, but his lady was one of those women 
 whom nothing in the world can persuade that a public school is 
 anything else but a place where boys are roasted alive; and so 
 with tears, and taunts, and supplications, the point of private 
 education was conceded. 
 
 At length it was resolved that the only hope should remain at 
 home a season, until some plan should be devised for the cultiva- 
 tion of his promising understanding. During this year, Vivian 
 became a somewhat more constant intruder into the library than 
 heretofore ; and living so much among books, he was insensibly 
 attracted to those silent companions, that speak so eloquently. 
 
 How far the character of the parent may influence the character 
 of the child, the metaphysician must decide. Certainly the cha- 
 racter of Vivian Grey underwent, at this period of his life, a sen- 
 sible change. Doubtless, constant communion with a mind highly 
 refined, sevei-ely cultivated, and much experienced, cannot but 
 produce a beneficial impression, even upon a mhul formed, and 
 upon principles developed : how infinitely more powerful must the 
 influence of such communion be upon a youthful heart, ardent, 
 innocent, raid unpractised! As Vivian was not to figure in the 
 microcosm of a public school, a place for which, from his temper, 
 he was almost better fitted than any young genius whom the play- 
 ing- fields of Eton, or the hills of Wintou, can remember, thei-e 
 was some difficulty in fixing upon his future Academus. Mr. 
 Grey's two axioms were, first, that no one so young as his son 
 should settle in the metropoli*i, and that Vivian must consequently 
 not have a private tutor ; and, secondly, that all private schools 
 were quite worthless ; and, therefore, there was every probability 
 of Vivian not receiving any education whatever. 
 
 At length, an exception to axiom second started up in the esta- 
 blishment of Mr. Dallas. This gentleman was a clergyman, a pro- 
 found Grecian, and a poor man. He had edited the Alcestis, and 
 married his laundress — lost money by his edition, and his fellowship 
 by his match. In a few days, the hall of Mr. Grey's London man- 
 sion was filled with all sorts of portmanteaus, trunks, and travel- 
 
8 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 ling' cases, directed la a boy's sprawling hand to " Vivian Grey, 
 Esquire, at the Reverend Everard Dallas, Burnsley Vicarage, 
 Hants." 
 
 " God bless you, my boy ! write to your mother soon, and re- 
 member your Journal." 
 
 CHAPTER in. 
 
 The rumour of the arrival of " a new fellow," circulated with 
 rapidity through the inmates of Burnsley Vicarage, and about 
 fifty young devils were preparing to quiz the new-comer, when 
 the school-room door opened, and Mr. Dallas, accompanied by 
 Vivian, entered. 
 
 "A dandy, by Jove!" whispered St. Leger Smith. "What a 
 knowing set out ! " squeaked Johnson seciindiis. " Mammy-sick ! " 
 growled Barlow primus. This last exclamation was, however, a 
 most scandalous libel, for certainly no being ever stood in a peda- 
 gogue's presence with more perfect sang froid, and with a bolder 
 front, than did, at this moment, Vivian Grey. 
 
 One principle in Mr. Dallas' system was always to introduce a 
 new-comer in school-hours. He was thus carried immediately 
 in niedias res, and the curiosity of his co-mates being in a great 
 degree satisfied, at a time when that curiosity could not personally 
 annoy him, the new-comer was, of course, much better prepared 
 to make his way, when the absence of the ruler became a signal 
 for some oral communication with " the arrival." 
 
 However, in the present instance the young savages at Burnsley 
 Vicarage had caught a Tartar ; and in a very few days Vivian 
 Grey was decidedly the most popular fellow in the school. He 
 was " so dashing ! so devilish good-tempered ! so completely up 
 to everything ! " The magnates of the land were certainly rather 
 jealous of his success, but their very sneers bore witness to his 
 popularity. " Cursed pup^jy," whispered St. Leger Smith. " Thinks 
 himself knowing," squeaked Johnson sccundus. " Thinks himself 
 Avitty," growled Barlow primus. 
 
 Notwithstanding this cabal, days rolled on at Burnsley Vicarage 
 only to witness the increase of Vivian's popularity. Although more 
 deficient than most of his own age in accurate classical attainments, 
 he found himself in talents, and various acquirements, immeasurably 
 their superior. And singular is it, that at school, distinction in such 
 points is ten thousand times more admired by the multitude, than 
 tlie most profound knowledge of Greek Metres, or the most accurate 
 acquaintance with the value of Roman coins. Vivian Grey's Eng- 
 lish verses, and Vivian Grey's English themes, were the subject of 
 
VIVIAN GREY. M 
 
 universal commendation. Some young lads made copies of these 
 productions, to enrich, at the Christmas holidays, their sisters' 
 albums; while the whole school were scribbling embryo prize- 
 poems, epics of twenty lines on " the Ruins of Psestum" and " the 
 Temple of Minerva;" " Agrigentum," and " the Cascade of Terni.'"' 
 Vivian's productions at this time would probably have been re- 
 jected by the commonest twopenny publication about town, yet 
 they turned the brain of the whole school ; while fellows who were 
 writing Latin Dissertations and Greek Odes, which might have 
 made the fortune of the Classical Journal, were looked on by the 
 multitude as as great dunderheads as themselves. Such is the 
 advantage which, even in this artificial world, everything that is 
 genuine has over everything that is false and forced. The dun- 
 derheads who wrote " good Latin," and " Attic Greek," did it by 
 a process, by means of which, the youngest fellow in the school 
 was conscious he could, if he chose, attain the same perfection. 
 Vivian Grey's verses were unlike anything which had yet appeared 
 in the literary Annals of Burnsley Vicarage, and that which was 
 quite novel was naturally thought quite excellent. 
 
 There is no place in the world where greater homage is paid to 
 talent than an English school. At a public school, indeed, if a 
 youth of great talents be blessed with an amiable and generous 
 disposition, he ought not to envy the Minister of England. If any 
 captain of Eton, or prefect of Winchester, be reading these pages, 
 let him dispassionately consider, in what situation of life he can 
 rationally expect that it will be in his power to exercise such influ- 
 ence, to have such opportunities of obliging others, and be so con- 
 fident of an afl'ectiouate and grateful return. Ay, there's the rub ! 
 Bitter thought! that gratitude should cease the moment we be- 
 come men. 
 
 And sure I am, that Vivian Grey was loved as ardently, and as 
 faithfuUy, as you might expect from innocent young hearts. His 
 slight accomplishments were the standard of all perfection ; his 
 sayings were the soul of all good fellowship ; and his opinion, the 
 guide in any crisis which occurred in the monotonous existence of 
 the little commonwealth. And time flew gaily on. 
 
 Oue winter evening, as Vivian, with some of his particular cro- 
 nies, were standing round the school-room fire, they began, as all 
 schoolboys do when it grows rather dark, and they grow rather 
 sentimental — to talk of Home. 
 
 " Twelve weeks more," said Augustus Etherege — " twelve weeks 
 more, and we are free! The glorious day should be cele- 
 brated." 
 
 " A feast, a feast ! " exclaimed Poynings. 
 
 "A feast is but the work of a night," said Vivian Grey: 
 
10 VIVIAN GP.KY. 
 
 " something' more stirring" for me ! What say you to private thea- 
 tricals?" 
 
 The proposition was, of course, received with enthusiasm, and 
 it was not until they had unanimously agreed to act, that they uni- 
 versally remembered that acting was not allowed. And then they 
 consulted whether they should ask Dallas, and then they remem- 
 bered that Dallas had been asked fifty times, and then they " sup- 
 posed they must give it up ;" and then Vivian Grey made a pro- 
 position wliich the rest were secretly sighing for, but which they 
 Avere afraid to make themselves — he proposed that they should 
 act without asking- Dallas. — " Well, then, we'll do it, without 
 asking him," said Vivian ; — " nothing is allowed in this life, and 
 everything is done : — in town there is a thing called the French 
 play, and that is not allowed, yet my aunt has got a private box 
 there. Trust me for acting — but what shall we perform ?" 
 
 This question was, as usual, the fruitful source of jarring opin- 
 ions. One pi'oposed Othello, chiefly because it would be so easy 
 to black a face with a burnt cork. Another was for Hamlet, solely 
 because he wanted to act the ghost, which he proposed doing in 
 white shorts, and a night-cap. A third was for Julius Csesar, be- 
 cause the murder scene " would be such fun." 
 
 " No ! no ! " said Vivian, tii-ed at these various and varying pro- 
 posals, "this will never do. Out upon Tragedies; let's have a 
 Comedy ! " 
 
 " A Comedy ! a Comedy! — oh! how delightful ! " 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Afteu an immense number of propositions, and an equal num- 
 ber of repetitions. Dr. Hoadley's bustling drama was fixed upon. 
 Vivian was to act Ranger, Augustus Etherege was to personate 
 Clarinda, because he was a fair boy and always blushing ; and the 
 rest of the characters found able representatives. Every hajf- 
 holiday was devoted to rehearsals, and nothing could exceed the 
 amusement and thorough fun which all the preparation^j elicited. 
 All went well — Vivian wrote a most pathetic prologue, and a most 
 witty epilogue. Etherege got on capitally in tlie mask scene, and 
 Poynings was quite perfect in Jack Mcggot. There was, of course, 
 some difficulty in keeping all things in order, but then Vivian Grey 
 was such an excellent manager ! and then, with infinite tact, the 
 said manager conciliated the Classics, for he allowed St. Leger 
 Smith to select a Greek motto, from the Andromache, for the 
 front of the theatre; and Johnson secundus and Barlow ^n'mzw 
 were complimented by being allowed to act tlic chairmen. 
 
VIVIAN GKEY. li 
 
 But, alas ! in the midst of all this sunshine, the seeds of discord 
 and dissension were fast flourishing-. ]Mr. Dallas himself was 
 always so absorbed in some freslily-imported German commen- 
 tator, that it was a fixed principle with him, never to trouble 
 himself with anything- that concerned his pupils, " out of school 
 hours." The consequence was, that certain powers were neces- 
 sarily delegated to a certain set of beings called Ushers. 
 
 The usherian rule had, however, always been comparatively light 
 at Burnsley Vicarage, for the good Dallas, never for a moment 
 entrusting- the duties of tuition to a third person, eng'aged these 
 deputies merely as a sort of police, to regulate the bodies, rather 
 than the minds, of his youthful subjects. One of the first princi- 
 ples of the new theory introduced into the establishment of Burns- 
 ley Vicarage by Mr. Vivian Grey, was, that the ushers were to be 
 considered by the boys as a species of upper servants ; were to be 
 treated with civility, certainly, as all servants are by gentlemen ; 
 but that no further attention was to be paid them, and that any 
 fellow voluntarily conversing with an usher was to be cut dead by 
 the whole school. This pleasant arrangement v/as no secret to 
 those whom it most immediately concerned, and, of course, ren- 
 dered Vivian rather a favourite with them. These men had not 
 the tact to conciliate the boy, and Avere, notwithstanding-, too much 
 afraid of his influence in the school to attack him openly; so 
 they waited with that patience which iusidted beings can alone 
 endure. 
 
 One of these creatures must not be forgotten ; his name was 
 Mallett ; he was a perfect specimen of the genuine usher. .The 
 monster wore a black coat and waistcoat ; the residue of his cos- 
 tume Avas of that mysterious colour kuoAvn by the name of pepper- 
 and-salt. He was a pallid wretch with a ■png nose, white teeth, 
 and marked with the small-pox ; long greasy black hair, and 
 small black, beady eyes. This daemon watched the progress of the 
 theatrical company with eyes gloating with vengeance. No attempt 
 had been made to keep the fact of the rehearsal a secret from the 
 police; no objection, on their part, had as yet been made; the 
 twelve weeks diminished to six; Ranger had secretly ordered a 
 dress from town, and was to get a steel-handled sword from Fen- 
 tum's for Jack Meggot ; and everything was proceeding- with the 
 most delightful success, when one morning, as Mr. Dallas was ap- 
 parently about to take his departure, with a volume of Becker's 
 Thucydides under his arm, the respected Dominie stopped, and 
 thus harangued : " I am informed that a g-reat deal is going- on in 
 this family, with which it is intended that I shall be kept unac- 
 quainted. It is not my intention to name anybody or anything- at 
 present ; but I must say that of late the temper of this family has 
 
12 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 sadly changed. Wlietlier there be any seditious stranger among 
 you or not, I shall not at present even endeavour to discover ; but 
 I will warn my old friends of their new ones :" and so saying, the 
 Dominie withdrew. 
 
 All eyes were immediately fixed on Vivian, and the faces of the 
 Classics were triumphant with smiles; those of the manager's par- 
 ticular friends, tlie Romantics, we may call them, were clouded ; 
 but who shall describe the countenance of Mallett ? In a moment 
 the school broke up with an agitated and tumultuous uproar. " No 
 stranger!" shouted St. Leger Smith ; " No stranger ! " vociferated 
 a prepared gang. Vivian's friends were silent, for they hesitated 
 to accept for their leader the insulting title. Those who were 
 neither Vivian's friends nor in the secret, weak creatures who side 
 always with the strongest, immediately swelled the insulting chorus 
 of Mr. St. Leger Smith. That worthy, emboldened by his success 
 and the smiles of Mallett, contained himself no longer : " Down 
 with the manager! " he cried. His satellites chorussed. But now 
 Vivian rushed forward. " Mr. Smith, I thank you for being so 
 definite ; — take that ! " and he struck Smith with such force that 
 the Cleon staggered and fell ; but Smith instantly recovered, and 
 a ring was as instantly formed. To a common observer, the com- 
 batants were most unequally matched ; for Smith was a hurley, 
 big-limbed animal, alike superior to Grey in years and strength. 
 But Vivian, though delicate in frame, and more youthful, was full 
 his match in spirit, and, thanks to being a Cockney ! ten times his 
 match in science. He had not built a white great coat, or drunk 
 blue ruin at Ben Burn's for nothing ! 
 
 Oh ! how beautifully he fought ! how admirably straight he hit ! 
 and his stops quick as lightning ! and his followings up confounding 
 his adversary with their painful celerity ! Smith, alike puzzled and 
 punished, yet jn-oud in his strength, hit round, and wild, and false, 
 and foamed like a furious elephant. For ten successive rounds the 
 result was dubious; but in the eleventh the strength of Smith 
 began to fail him, and the men were more fairly matched. " Go 
 it, Ranger! — go it. Ranger!" halloed the Greyites; "No 
 stranger ! — no stranger ! " eagerly bawled the more numerous 
 party. " Snitli's floored, by Jove ! " exclaimed Poynings, who 
 was Grey's second. " At it again! at it again! " exclaimed all. 
 And now, when Smith must certainly have given in, suddenly 
 stepped forward Mr. Mallett, accompanied by Dallas ! 
 
 " How, Mr. Grey ! No answer, sir ; I understand that you have 
 always an answer ready. I do not quote Scripture lightly, Mr. 
 Grey ; but ' Take heed that you offend not, even with your tongue.' 
 l^ow, sir, to your room." 
 
 When Vivian Gi*ey again joined his companions, he found him- 
 
VTVIAN GRET. 13 
 
 self almost universally shunned. Etherege and Poynings were the 
 only individuals who met him with their former frankness. " A 
 horrible row. Grey," said the latter. " After you went, the Doctor 
 harangued the whole school, and swears you have seduced and 
 ruined us all: — everything was happiness until you came, &c. 
 Mallett is of course at the bottom of the whole business : but what 
 can we do ? Dallas says you have the tongue of a serpent, and that 
 he will not trust himself to hear your defence. Infamous shame ! 
 I swear ! And now every fellow has got a story against you : some 
 say you are a dandy — others want to know, whether the next piece 
 performed at your theatre Mill be ' The Stranger ;' — as for myself 
 and Etherege, we shall leave in a few weeks, and it does not signify 
 to us; but what the devil you're to do next half, by Jove, I can't 
 say. If I were you, I would not return." 
 
 " Not return, eh! but that will I though ; and we shall see who, 
 in future, can complain of the sweetness of my voice ! Ungrateful 
 fools ! " 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The Vacation was over, and Vivian returned to Burnsley 
 Vicarage. He bowed cavalierly to Mr. Dallas on his arrival, and 
 immediately sauntered up into the school-room, where he found 
 a tolerable quantity of wretches looking as miserable as school- 
 boys who have left their pleasant homes generally dojfor some 
 four-and-twenty hours. " How d'ye do, Grey ? How d'ye do, 
 Grey r " burst from a knot of unhappy fellows, who would have 
 felt quite delighted had their newly arrived co-mate condescended 
 to entertain them, as usual, with some capital good story fresh 
 from town. But they were disappointed. 
 
 " We can make room for you at the fire, Grey," said Theophilus 
 Kmg. 
 
 "I thank you, I am not cold." 
 
 " I suppose you know that Poynings and Etherege don't come 
 back, Grey?" 
 
 "Everybody knew that last half:" and so he walked on, 
 
 " Grey, Grey ! " halloed King, " don't go into the dining-room ; 
 ^Mallett is there alone, and told us not to disturb him. By Jove, 
 the fellow is going in: there'll be a greater I'ow this half between 
 Grey and Mallett, than ever." 
 
 Days — the hea^j first days of the half, rolled on, and all the 
 citizens of the little commonwealth had returned. 
 
 " What a dull half this will be ! " said Eardley ; '• how one misses 
 Grey's set ! — After all, they kept the school alive : Poynings was a 
 
14 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 first-rate fellow; and Etherege, so deuced g-ood-natured ! I 
 wonder whom Grey will crony with this half! Have you seen 
 him and Dallas speak together yet? He cut the Doctor quite 
 dead at Greek to-day." 
 
 " Why, Eardley! Eardley! there is Grey walking round playing 
 fields with Mallett ! " halloed a sawney who was killing the half- 
 holiday by looking' out of the window. 
 
 "The devil! I say, Matthews, whose flute is that? It i3 a 
 devilish handsome one ! " 
 
 "It's Grey's! I clean it for him," squeaked a little boy. "' He 
 gives me sixpence a-week ! " 
 
 " Oh, you sneak!" said one. 
 
 " Cut him over ! " said another. 
 
 " Roast him ! " cried a third. 
 
 " To v.'hom are you going to take the flute?" asked a fourth. 
 
 " To Mallett," squeaked the little fellow ; " Grey lends his flute 
 to Mallett every day." 
 
 "Grey lends his flute to ]\lallett! The deuce he does! So 
 Grey and Mallett are going to crony ! " 
 
 A wild exclamation burst forth from the little party ; and away 
 each of them ran, to spread in all directions the astounding 
 intelligence. 
 
 If the rule of the ushers had hitherto been light at Burnsley 
 Vicarage, its character was materially changed during this half- 
 year. The vexatious and tyrannical influence of Mallett was now 
 experienced in all directions ; meeting and interfering with the 
 comforts of the boys, in every possible manner. His malice was 
 accompanied too by a tact, Vidiich could not have been expected 
 from his vulgar mind, and wliich, at the same time, could not have 
 been produced by the experience of one in his situation. It was 
 quite evident to the whole community that his conduct was dic- 
 tated by another mind, and that that mind was one versed in all 
 the secrets of a school-boy's life, and acquainted with all the 
 workings of a school-boy's mind : a species of knowledge which 
 no pedagogue in the world ever yet attained. There was no 
 difficulty in discovering whose was the power behind the throne. 
 Vivian Grey M-as the perpetual companion of Mallett in his M'alks, 
 and even in the school ; he shunned also the converse of every 
 one of the boys, and did not afl'ect to conceal that his quarrel was 
 universal. Superior power, exercised by a superior mind, was for 
 a long time more than a match even for the united exertions of 
 the whole school. If any one complained, Mallett's written answer 
 (and such Dallas always required) was immediately ready, explain- 
 ing everything in the most satisfactory manner, and refuting 
 every complaint with the most triumphant spirit. Dallas, of 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 15 
 
 course, supported his deputy, and was soon equally detested. This 
 tyranny had continued throuj^h a great part of the long half-year, 
 and the spiiit of the school was almost broken, when a fresh 
 outrage occurred, of such a nature, that the nearly enslaved 
 multitude conspired. 
 
 The plot was admirably formed. On the first bell ringing for 
 school, the door was to be immediately barred, to prevent the 
 entrance of Dallas. Instant vengeance was then to be taken on 
 Mallett and his companion — the sneak! the spt/! the traitor! — 
 The bell rang: the door was barred: four stout fellows seized on 
 Mallett — four rushed to Vivian Grey : but stop : he sprang upon 
 his desk, and placing his back against the wall, held a pistol at 
 the foremost : " Not an inch nearer, Smith, or — I fire. Let me 
 not, however, baulk your vengeance on yonder hound : if I could 
 suggest any refinements in torture, they would be at your service." 
 Vivian Grey smiled, while the horrid cries of Mallett indicated 
 that the boys were " roasting" him. He then Avalked to the door 
 and admitted the barred-out Dominie. Silence was restored. 
 There was an explanation, and no defence ; and Vivian Grey was — 
 expelled. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Vivi^jf was now seventeen ; and the system of private educa/- 
 tion having so decidedly failed, it was resolved that he should 
 spend the years antecedent to his going to Oxford, at home. 
 Nothing could be a greater failure than the first weeks of his 
 "course of study." He was perpetually violating the sanctity 
 of the drawing-room by the presence of Scapulas and Hederics, 
 and outraging the propriety of morning* visitors by bursting into 
 his mother's boudoir, with lexicons and slippers. 
 
 " Vivian, my dear," said his father to him one day, " this will 
 never do : you must adopt some system for your studies, and some 
 locality for your reading*. Have a room to yourself; set apart 
 certain hours in the day for your books, and allow no consideration 
 on earth to influence you to violate their sacreduess ; and above 
 all, my dear boy, keep your papers in order. I find a dissertation 
 on ' Tlie Commerce of Carthage,' stuck in my large paper copy of 
 ' Dibdin's Decameron,' and an ' Essay on the Metaphysics of 
 Music' (pray my dear fellow beware of magazine-scribbling) 
 cracking the back of Montfaucon's ' Monarchic.' " 
 
 Vivian apologized, promised, protested, and finally sat down 
 " TO READ." He had laid the first foundations of accurate classical 
 knowledge under the tuition of the learned Dallas ; and twelve 
 
 ( 
 
16 VIVIAK GREY. 
 
 hours a-day, and self-banishment from society, overcame, in twelve 
 months, the ill effects of his imperfect education. The result of 
 this extraordinary exertion may be conceived. At the end of 
 twelve months, Vivian, like many other young enthusiasts, had 
 discovered that all the wit and wisdom of the world were concen- 
 trated in some fifty antique volumes, and he treated the unlucky 
 moderns with the most sublime spirit of hauteur imaginable. A 
 chorus in the Medea, that painted the radiant sky of Attica, dis- 
 gusted him with the foggy atmosphere of Great Britain ; and while 
 Mrs. Grey was meditating a visit to Brighton, her son was dream- 
 ing of the gulf of Salamis. The spectre in the Persse was his only 
 model for a ghost, and the furies in the Orestes were his perfec- 
 tion of tragical machinery. 
 
 Most ingenious and educated youths have fallen into the same 
 error ; but few have ever carried such feelings to the excess that 
 Vivian Grey did ; for while his mind was daily becoming more 
 enervated under the beautiful but baneful influence of Classic 
 Reverie, the youth lighted upon Plato. 
 
 Wonderful is it, that while the whole soul of Vivian Grey seemed 
 concentrated and wrapped in the glorious pages of the Athenian, 
 — while, with keen and almost inspired curiosity, he searched, and 
 followed up, and meditated upon, the definite mystery, the indefi- 
 nite development, — while his spirit alternately bowed in trembling 
 and in admiration, as he seemed to be listening to the secrets of 
 the Universe revealed in the glorious melodies of an immortal 
 voice ; — wonderful is it, I say, that the writer, the study of whose 
 works appeared to the young scholar, in the revelling of his enthu- 
 siasm, to be the sole object for which man was born and had his 
 being, was the cause by which Vivian Grey was saved from being 
 all his life a dreaming scholar. 
 
 Determined to spare no exertions, and to neglect no means, by 
 which he might enter into the very penetralia of his mighty mas- 
 ter's meaning, Vivian determined to attack the latter Platonists. 
 These were a race of men, of whose existence he knew merely by the 
 references to their productions, which were sprinkled in the com- 
 mentaries of his " best editions." In the pride of boyisli learning, 
 Vivian had limited his library to Classics, and the proud leaders of 
 the later schools did not consequently grace his diminutive book- 
 case. In- this dilemma he flew to his father, and confessed by his 
 request that his favourites were not all-sutficient. 
 
 " Father ! I wish to make myself master of the latter Platonists. 
 I want Plotinus, and Porphyry, and lamblichus, and Syrianus, 
 and Maximus Tyrius, and Proclus, and Hierocles, and Sallustius, 
 and Diimascius." 
 
 Mr. Grey stared at his son, and laughed. 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 17 
 
 " Sly dear Vivian ! are you quite convinced that the authors 
 you ask for are all pure Platonists ? or have not some of them 
 placed the great end rather in practical than theoretic virtue, and 
 thereby violated the first principles of 3'our master? which would 
 be very shocking. Are you sure, too, that these gentlemen have 
 actually ' withdrawn the sacred veil, which covers from profane 
 eyes the luminous spectacles?' Are you quite convinced that 
 every one of these worthies lived at least five hundred years after 
 the great master ? for I need not tell so profound a Platonist as 
 yourself, that it was not till that period that even glimpses of the 
 great master's meaning were discovered. Strange! that time 
 should alike favour the philosophy of theory, and the philosophy 
 of facts. Mr. Vivian Grey, benefiting, I presume, by the lapse of 
 further centuries, is about to complete the great work which Pro- 
 clus and Porphyry commenced." 
 
 " My dear sir ! you are pleased to be very amusmg this morn- 
 iug." 
 
 " My dear boy ! I smile, but not with joy : sit down, and let us 
 have a little conversation together. Father and son, and father 
 and son on such terms as we are, should really communicate oftener 
 together than we do. It has been, perhaps, my fault ; it shall not 
 be so again." 
 
 "My dear sir!" 
 
 " Nay, nay, it shall be my fault now. "Whose it shall be in 
 future, Vivian, time will show. My dear Vivian, you have now 
 spent upwards of a year under this roof, and your conduct has 
 been as correct as the most rigid parent might require. I have 
 not wished to interfere with the progress of your mind, and I regret 
 it. I have been negligent, but not wilfully so. I do regret it ; 
 because, whatever may be your powers, Vivian, I at least have the 
 advantage of experience. I see you smile at a word which I so 
 often use. Well, well, were I to talk to you for ever, you would 
 not understand what I mean by that single word. The time will 
 come, when you will deem that single word — everything. Ai'dent 
 youths in their closet^, Vivian, too often fancy that they are pecu- 
 liar beings ; and I have no reason to believe that you are an ex- 
 ception to the general rule. In passing one whole year of your 
 life as you have done, you doubtless imagine that you have been 
 spending your hours in a manner which no others have done be- 
 fore. Trust me, my boy, thousands have done the same; and, 
 what is of still more importance, thousands are doing, and will do, 
 the same. Take the advice of one who has committed as many, 
 ay, more, follies than yourself ; but who would bless the hour that 
 he had been a fool, if his experience might be of benefit to his 
 beloved son." 
 
 2 
 
IB VIVIAN GliET. 
 
 « My father!" 
 
 " Nay, don't agitate yourself; we are consulting together . Let 
 us see what is to be done. Try to ascertain when you are alone, 
 what may be the chief objects of your existence in this world. I 
 want you to take no theological dogmas for granted, nor to satisfy 
 your doubts by ceasing to think ; but, whether we are in this world 
 in a state of probation for another, or whether we cease altogether 
 when we cease to breathe, human feelings tell me that we have 
 some duties to perfonn, — to our fellow-creatures — to our friends — 
 to ourselves. Pray, tell me, my dear boy, what possible good your 
 perusal of the latter Platonists can produce to either of these three 
 interests ? I trust that my child is not one of those who look with 
 a glazed eye on the welfare of their fellow-men, and who would 
 dream away an useless life by idle puzzles of the brain : — creatures 
 who consider their existence as an unprofitable mystery, and yet 
 are afraid to die. You will find Plotinus in the fourth shelf of 
 the next room, Vivian." 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 In England, personal distinction is the only passport to the so- 
 ciety of the great. Whether this distinction arise from fortune, 
 family, or talent, is immaterial; but certain it is, to enter into 
 high society, a man must either have blood, a million, or a genius. 
 
 The reputation of Mr. Grey had always made him an honoured 
 guest among the powerful and the great. It was for this reason 
 that he had always been anxious that his son should be at home 
 as little as possible ; for he feared for a youth the fascination of 
 London society. Although busied with his studies, and professing 
 "' not to visit," Vivian could not avoid occasionally finding himself 
 in company in which boys should never be seen ; and, what was 
 still worse, from a certain social spirit, au indefinable tact, with 
 which Nature had endowed him, this boy of nineteen began to 
 think this society very delightful. Most persons of his age would 
 have passed through the ordeal with perfect safety ; ihey would 
 have entered certain rooms, at certain hours, with stiff cravats, 
 and Nugee coats, and black velvet waistcoats ; and after having 
 annoyed all those who condescended to know of their existence, 
 with their red hands and their white gloves, they would have 
 retired to a corner of the room, and conversationised witlx any 
 stray four-year-older not yet sent to bed. 
 
 But Vivian Grey was a graceful, lively lad, with just enough of 
 dandyism to presei've him from committing gauchcries, and with a 
 devil of a tongue. All men will agree with me that the only rival 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 19 
 
 to be feared bv a man of spirit is — a clever boy. What makes 
 them so popular with women, it is difficult to explain ; however, 
 Lady Julia Knighton, and Mrs. Frank Delming-ton, and half a 
 score of dames of fashion, were always patronising our hero, who 
 found an evening spent in their society not altogether dull, for 
 there is no fascination so irresistible to a boy as the smUe of 
 a married woman. Vivian had passed such a recluse life for the 
 last two years and a half, that he had quite forgotten that he was 
 once considered a very agreeable fellow ; and so, determined to 
 discover what right he ever had to such a reputation, he dashed 
 into all these amourettes in beautiful style. 
 
 But Vivian Grey was a young and tender plant in a moral hot- 
 house. His character was developing itself too soon. Although 
 his evenings were now generally passed in the manner we have 
 alluded to, this boy was, during the rest of the day, a hard and in- 
 defatigable student; and having now got through an immense 
 series of historical reading, he had stumbled upon a branch of 
 study certaiidy the most delightful in the world ; but, for a boy, 
 as certainly the most perilous — the study of politics. 
 
 And now everything was solved ! the inexplicable longings of 
 his soul, which had so often perplexed him, were at length ex- 
 plained. The want, the indefinable want, which he had so con- 
 stantly experienced, was at last supplied ; the grand object on 
 which to briug the powers of his mind to bear and work was 
 at last provided. He paced his chamber in an agitated spirit, and 
 panted for the Senate. 
 
 It may be asked, what was the evil of all this ? and the reader 
 wiU, perhaps, murmur something about an honom-able spirit and 
 youthful ambition. The evil was great. The time di-ew nigh for 
 Vivian to leave his home for Oxford — that is, for him to com- 
 mence his long preparation for entering on his career in life. 
 And now this person, who was about to be a pupil — this boy, this 
 strij^ling, who was going to begin his education — had all the desires 
 of a matured mind — of an experienced man, but without maturity 
 and without experience. He was already a cunning reader of hu- 
 man hearts ; and felt conscious that his was a tongue which was born 
 to guide human beings. The idea of Oxford to such an indi- 
 vidual was an insult ! 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 We must endeavour to trace, if possible, more accurately the 
 workings of Vivian Grey's mind at this period of his existence. 
 In the plenitude of his ambition, he stopped one day to inquire in 
 what manner he could obtain his masnificent ends. 
 
20 VIVIAN GDEY. 
 
 " The Bar — pooh ! law and bad jokes till we are forty ; and 
 then, with the most brilliant success, the prospect of gout and a 
 coronet. Besides, to succeed as an advocate, I must be a great 
 lav.yer ; and, to be a great lawyer, I must give up my chance of 
 being a great man. The Services in war time are fit only for 
 desperadoes (and that truly am I) ; but, in peace, are fit only for 
 fools. The Church is more rational. Let me see : I should Cer- 
 tainly like to act Wolsey ; but the thousand and one chances 
 against me ! And truly I feel my destiny should not be on a 
 chance. Were I the son of a millionaire, or a noble, I might 
 have all. Curse on my lot ! that the want of a few rascal 
 counters, and the possession of a little rascal blood, should mar 
 my fortunes ! " 
 
 Such was the general tenor of Vivian's thoughts, until, musing 
 himself almost into madness, he at last made, as he conceived, the 
 Grand Discovery. " Riches are Poicer, says the Economist : — 
 and is not Intellect f asks the Philosopher. And yet, while the 
 influence of the millionaire is instantly felt in all classes of so- 
 ciety, how is it that ' Noble Mind' so often leaves us unknown and 
 unhonoured ? Why have there been statesmen who have never 
 ruled, and heroes who have never conquered ? Why have glorious 
 philosophers died in a garret ? and why have there been poets 
 whose only admirer has been Nature in her echoes ? It must 
 be that these beings have thought only of themselves, and, con- 
 stant and elaborate students of their own glorious natures, have 
 forgotten or disdained the study of all others. Yes! we must 
 mix with the herd ; we must enter into their feelings ; we must hu- 
 mour their weaknesses; we must sympathise with the sorrows that 
 we do not feel ; and share the merriment of fools. O, yes ! to 
 rule men, we must be men ; to prove that we are strong, we must 
 be weak ; to prove that we are giants, we must be dwarfs ; even 
 as the Eastern Genie was hid in the charmed bottle. Our wisdom 
 must be concealed under folly, and our constancy under caprice. 
 
 " I have been often struck by the ancient tales of Jupiter's visits 
 to the earth. In these fanciful adventures, the god bore no indi- 
 cation of the Thunderer's glory ; but M^as a man of low estate, a 
 herdsman, a hind, often even an animal. A mighty spirit has in 
 Tradition, Time's great moralist, perused ' the wisdom of the 
 ancients.' Even in the same spirit, I would explain Jove's ter- 
 restrial visitings. For, to govern man, even the god appeared 
 to feel as a man ; and sometimes as a beast, was apparently in- 
 fluenced by their vilest passions. Slankind, then, is my great 
 game. 
 
 " At this moment, how many a powerful noble wants only wit to 
 be a Minister ; and what wants Vivian Grey to attain tlie same 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 21 
 
 end ? That noble's influence. When two persons can so ma- 
 terially assist each other, why are they not brought together ? 
 Shall I, because my birth baulks my fancy — shall I pass my life a 
 moping misanthrope in an old chateau ? Supposing I am in con- 
 tact with this magnifico, am I prepared ? Now, let me probe my 
 very soul. Does my cheek blanch ? I have the mind for the con- 
 ception ; and I can perform right skUfuUy upon the most splendid 
 of musical instruments — the human voice — to make those con- 
 ceptions beloved by others. There wants but one thing more — 
 courage, pure, perfect courage ; and does Vivian Grey know fear ? " 
 He laughed an answer of bitterest derision. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Is it surprising that Vivian Grey, with a mind teeming with 
 such feelings, should view the approach of the season for his de- 
 parture to Oxford with sentiments of disgust ? After hours of 
 bitter meditation he sought his father; he made him acquainted 
 with his feelings, but concealed from him his actual views, and dwelt 
 on the misery of being thrown back in life, at a period when 
 society seemed instinct with a spirit peculiarly active, and when 
 so many openings were daily offered to the adventurous and the 
 bold. 
 
 '• Vivian," said Mi*. Grey, " beware of endeavouring to become 
 a great man in a hurry. One such attempt in ten thousand may 
 succeed : these are fearful odds. Admirer as you are of Lord 
 Bacon, you may perhaps remember a certain parable of his, called 
 ' ilemnon, or a youth too forward.' I hope you are not going to 
 be one of those sons of Aurora, ' who, puffed up with the glitter- 
 ing show of vanity and ostentation, attempt actions above their 
 strength.' 
 
 " You talk to me about the peculiarly active spirit of society ; if 
 the spirit of society be so peculiarly active, j\Ir. Vivian Grey should 
 beware lest it outstrip him. Is neglecting to mature your mind, 
 my boy, exactly the way to win the race ? This is an age of un- 
 settled opinions and contested principles : — in the very measures 
 of our administration, the speculative spirit of the present day is, 
 to say the least, not impalpable. Nay, don't start, my dear feUow, 
 and look the very Prosopopeia of Political Economy ! I know 
 exactly what you are going to say ; but, if you please, we'll leave 
 Turgot and Galileo to Mr. Canning and the House of Commons, 
 or your cousin Hargrave and his Debating Society. However, 
 jesting apart, get your hat, and walk with me as far as Evans', 
 
22 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 where I have promised to look in, to see the Mazarin Bible, and 
 we will talk tliis aflfair over as we go along. 
 
 " I am no bigot, you know, Vivian. I am not one of those who 
 wish to oppose the application of refined philosophy to the common 
 business of life. We are, I hope, an improving race ; there is room, 
 I am sure, for great improvement, and the perfectibility of man is 
 certainly a very pretty dream. (How well that Union Club House 
 comes out now, since they have made the opening) ; but, although 
 we may have steam kitchens, human nature is, I imagine, much 
 the same this moment that we are walking in Pall-Mail East, as it 
 was some thousand years ag-o, when as wise men were walking on 
 the banks of the Ilyssus. When our moral powers increase in 
 proportion to our physical ones, then huzza for the perfectibility 
 of man ! and respectable, idle loungers, like you and me, Vivian, 
 may then have a chance of wallcing in the streets of London 
 without having their heels trodden upon, a ceremony which I have 
 this moment undergone. In the present day we are all studying 
 science, and none of us are studying ourselves. This is not 
 exactly the Socratic process ; and as for the yvadt aeavTov of the 
 more ancient Athenian, that principle is quite out of fashion in 
 the nineteenth century (I believe that's the phrase). Self is the 
 only person whom we know nothing about. 
 
 " But, my dear Vivian, as to the immediate point of our con- 
 sideration : — in my library, uninfluenced and uncontrolled by pas- 
 sion or by party, I cannot but see that it is utterly impossible that 
 all that we are wishing and striving for can take place, without 
 some — without much evil. In ten years' time, perhaps, or less, 
 the fever will have subsided, and in ten years' time, or less, your in- 
 tellect will be matured. Now, my good sir, instead of talking 
 about the active spirit of the age, and the opportunities offered to 
 the adventurous and the bold, ought you not rather to congra- 
 tulate yourself, that a great change is effecting at a period of 
 your life when you need not, individually, be subjected to the 
 possibility of being injured by its operation ; and when you are 
 preparing your mind to take advantage of the system, when that 
 system is matured and organised ? 
 
 " As to your request, it assuredly is one of the most modest, 
 and the most rational, that I have lately been favoured with. 
 Although I would much rather that any influence which I may 
 exercise over your mind, should be the eflect of my advice as 
 your friend, than of my authority as your father ; still I really 
 feel it my duty, parentallj', to protest against this very crude 
 proposition of yours. However, if you choose to lose a term 
 or two, do. Don't blame me, you know, if afterwards you re- 
 pent it." 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 88 
 
 Here dashed by the gorg^eous equipage of !Mr3. Ormohi, the 
 wife of a man who was working all the gold and silver mines 
 in Christendom. '■' Ah ! my dear Vivian," said ^Ir. Grey, " it is 
 this which has turned all your brains. In this age every one 
 is striving to make an immense fortune, and what is most terrific, 
 at the same time a speedy one. This thirst for sudden wealth 
 it is, which engenders the extravagant conceptions, and fosters 
 that wild spirit of speculation which is now stalking abroad ; and 
 which, like the Dfemon in Frankenstein, not only fearfully wanders 
 over the whole wide face of nature, but grins in the imagined so- 
 litude of our secret chambers. Oh ! my son, it is for the young 
 men of the present day that I tremble — seduced by the temiwrary 
 success of a few children of fortune, I observe that their minds 
 recoil from the prospects which are held forth by the ordinary, 
 and, mark me, by the only modes of acquii'ing property — fair 
 trade, and honourable professions. It is for you and your com- 
 panions that I fear. God grant that there may not be a moral 
 as well as a political disorganisation 1 God grant that our youth, 
 the hope of our state, may not be lost to us ! For, oh ! my son, 
 the wisest has said, ' He that maketh haste to be rich, shall not 
 be innocent.' Let us step into Clarke's and take an ice." 
 
24 VIVIAN GEEY. 
 
 BOOK 11. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The Mai-quess of Carabas started in life as the cadet of a noble 
 family. Tlie earl, his father, like tlie woodman in the fairy tale, 
 was blessed with three sons — the first was an idiot, and was des- 
 tined for the Coronet ; the second was a man of business, and was 
 educated for the Commons ; the third was a Roue, and was shipped 
 to the Colonies. 
 
 The present Marquess, then the Honourable Sidney Lorraine, 
 prospered in his political career. He Avas servile, and pompous, 
 and iudefatig'able, and loquacious — so whispered the world : — his 
 friends hailed him as, at once, a courtier and a sage, a man of 
 business and an orator. After revelling in his fair proportion of 
 commissionerships, and under-secretaryships, and the rest of the 
 milk and honey of the political Canaan, the apex of the pyramid of 
 his ambition was at length visible, for Sidney Lorraine became 
 President of a Board, and wriggled into the adytum of the Ca- 
 binet. 
 
 At this moment his idiot brother died. To compensate for his 
 loss of office, and to secure his votes, the Earl of Carabas was pro- 
 moted in the peerage, and was presented with some magnificent 
 office, meaning nothing — swelling with dignity, and void of duties. 
 As years rolled on, various changes took place in the administra- 
 tion, of which his Lordship was once a component part ; and the 
 ministry, to their surprise, getting popular, found that the com- 
 mand of the Carabas interest was not of such vital importance to 
 them as heretofore, and so liis Lordship was voted a bore, and got 
 shelved. Not that his Lordship was bereaved of his splendid office, 
 or that anything occurred, indeed, by which the uninitiated might 
 have been led to suppose that the beams of his Lordship's conse- 
 qiience were shorn : but the Marquess' secret applications at the 
 Treasury were no longer listened to ; and pert under-secretaries 
 settled their cravats, and whispered " that the Carabas interest 
 was gone by." 
 
 The noble Marquess was not insensible to his situation, for lie 
 was what the world calls ambitious ; but the vigour of liis ^iculties 
 had vanished beneath the united influence of years and indolence 
 and ill-lmmour ; for liis Lordsliip, to avoid ennui, had quarrelled 
 with his son, and then having lost his only friend, had quarrelled 
 with himself. 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 25 
 
 Such was tlie distinguished individual who graced, one day at 
 the latter end of the season of 18 — , the classic board of Horace 
 Grey, Esquire. The reader will, perhaps, be astonished, that such 
 a, man as his Lordship should be the guest of such a man as our 
 hero's father ; but the truth is, the jNIarquess of Carabas had just 
 been disappointed in an attempt on the chair of the President of 
 the Royal Society ; which, for want of something better to do, he 
 was ambitious of filling, and this was a conciliatory visit to one of 
 the most distiuguished members of that body, and one who had 
 voted against him with particular enthusiasm. The jNlarquess, still 
 a poUtician, was now, as he imagined, securing his host's vote for a 
 future St. Andrew's day. 
 
 The cuisine of Mr. Grey was superb; for although an enthu- 
 siastic advocate for the cultivation of the mind, he was an equally 
 ardent supporter of the cultivation of the body. Indeed, the ne- 
 cessary dependence of the sanity of the one on the good keeping of 
 the other, was one of his most favourite theories, and one which, 
 this day, he was supporting with very pleasant and facetious reason- 
 ing. His Lordship was delighted with his new friend, and still 
 more delighted with his new friend's theoiy. The Marquess him- 
 self was, indeed, quite of the same opinion as Mr. Grey ; for he 
 never made a speech without previously taking a sandwich, and 
 would have sunk under the estimates a thousand times, had it not 
 been for the juicy friendship of the fruit of Portugal. 
 
 The guests were not numerous. A regius professor of Greek ; 
 an otncer just escaped from Sockatoo ; a man of science, and two 
 SI.P.'s with his Lordships the host, and Mr. Vivian Grey, con- 
 stituted the party. Oh, no ! there were two others. There was a 
 Mr. John Brown, a fashionable poet, and who, ashamed of his own 
 name, published his melodies under the more euphonious and ro- 
 mantic title of " Clarence Devonshire," and there Avas a i\Ir. TJiomas 
 Smith, a fashionable novelist ; — that is to say, a person who occa- 
 sionally publishes three volumes, one-half of which contain the ad- 
 ventures of a young gentleman in the country ; and the' other 
 volume and a half, the adventures of the same young gentleman in 
 the metropolis ; — a sort of writer, whose constant tattle about beer 
 and billiards, and eating soup, and the horribility of " committing" 
 puns, give truly a most admirable and accurate idea of the 
 conversation of the refined society of the refined metropolis of 
 Great Britain. These two last gentlemen were '•' pets" of Mrs. 
 Grey. 
 
 The conversation may be conceived. Each person was of course 
 prepared with a certain quota of information, without which no 
 man in London is morally entitled to dine out; and when the 
 quota was expended, the amiable host took the burthen upon his 
 
•^6 VIVIAN GliET. 
 
 own shoulders, and endeavoured, as the phrase goes, to draw out 
 liis guests. 
 
 O London dinners ! empty artificial nothings ! and that beings 
 ran be found, and those too the flower of the land, who, day after 
 day, can act the same pai-ts in the same dull, dreary farce ! The 
 officer had discoursed sufficiently about " his intimate friend, the 
 Soudan," and about the chain armour of the Sockatoo cuirassiers; 
 and one of the M.P.'s., who was in the Guards, had been defeated 
 in a ridiculous attempt to prove that the breast-plates of the 
 household troops of Great Britain were superior to those of the 
 household troops of Timtomtoo. Mrs. Grey, to whose opinion 
 both parties deferred, gave it in favour of the Soudan. And the 
 man of science had lectured about a machine which might destroy 
 fifteen square feet of human beings in a second, and yet be carried 
 in the waistcoat pocket. And the Classic, who, for a professor, was 
 quite a man of the world, had the latest news of the new Hercu- 
 laneum process, and was of opinion that, if they could but succeed 
 in unrolling a certain suspicious-looking scroll, we might be so for- 
 tunate as to possess a minute treatise on, &c., &c., &c. In short, 
 aU had said their say. There was a dead pause, and Mrs. Grey 
 looked at her husband, and rose. 
 
 How singular it is, that when this move takes place every one 
 appears to be relieved, and yet every one of any experience must 
 be quite aware that the dead bore work is only about to commence. 
 Howbeit, all filled their glasses, and the Peer, at the top of the 
 table, began to talk politics. I am sure that I cannot teU what 
 the weighty subject was that was broached by the ex-minister ; 
 for I did not dine with Grey that day ; and had I done so, I should 
 have been equally ignorant ; for I'm a duU man, and always sleep 
 at dinner. However, the subject was political, the claret flew 
 round, and a stormy argument commenced. The Marquess was 
 decidedly wrong, and was sadly badgered by the civil M.P. and 
 the Professor. The host, who was of no party, supported his 
 guest as long as possible, and then left him to his fate. The Mili- 
 tary ]\I.P. fled to the drawing-room to philander with Jlrs. Grey ; 
 and the man of science and the African had already retired to the 
 intellectual idiocy of a May Fair " At Home." The novelist was 
 silent, for he was studying a scene — and the poet was absent, for he 
 was musing a sonnet. 
 
 The Marquess refuted, had recourse to contradiction, and was 
 too acute a man to be insensible to the forlornness of his situation; 
 when, at this moment, a voice proceeded from the end of the table, 
 from a young gentleman, wlio had hitherto preserved a profound 
 silence, but whose silence, if the company were to have judged 
 from the tones of his voice, and the matter of his communication. 
 
VIVTAN Gr.EY. 2T 
 
 did not altogether proceed from a want of confidence in his own. 
 abilities. " In my opinion," said JMr. Vivian Grey, as lie sat 
 lounging' in his father's vacated seat — " in my opinion his Lordshin 
 has been misunderstood ; and it is, as is generally the case, from a 
 slight verbal misconception in the commencement of this argument, 
 that the whole of this difference arises." 
 
 The eyes of the Marquess sparkled — and the mouth of the Mar- 
 quess was closed. His Lordship was delighted that his reputation, 
 might yet be saved; but as he was not perfectly acquainted in what 
 manner that salvation was to be effected, he prudently left the 
 battle to his youthful champion. 
 
 i\Ir. Vinan Grey proceeded with the utmost sang froid : he com- 
 mented iipon expressions, split and subtilized words, insinuated 
 opinions, and finally quoted a whole passage of Boliugbroke to 
 prove that the opinion of the most noble the Marquess of Carabas 
 was one of the soundest, wisest, and most conviucuig of opinions 
 that ever was promidgated by mortal man. The tables were 
 tm'ned, the guests looked astounded, the Marquess settled his 
 ruffles, and perpetually exclaimed " Exactly what I meant !" and 
 his opponents, full of wine and quite puzzled, gave in. 
 « It was a rule with Vivian Grey, never to advance any opinion as 
 his own. He had been too deep a student of human nature, not 
 to be aware that the opinions of a boy of twenty, however sound, 
 and however correct, stand but a poor chance of being adopted by 
 his elder, though feebler, fellow-creatm^es. In attaining any end, 
 it was therefore his system always to advance his opinion as that of 
 some eminent and considered personage; and when, under the 
 sanction of this name, the opinion or advice was entertained and 
 listened to, Vivian Grey had no fear that he could prove its cor- 
 rectness and its expediency. He possessed also the singular faculty 
 of being able to improvise quotations, that is, he could unpreme- 
 ditatedly clothe his conceptions in language characteristic of the 
 style of any particular author: and Vivian Grey was reputed in 
 the world as having the most astonishing memory that ever 
 existed ; for there was scarcely a subject of discussion in which he 
 did not gain the victory, by the great names he enlisted on liis side 
 of the argument. His father was aware of the existence of this 
 dangerous faculty, and had often remonstrated with his son on the 
 use of it. On the present occasion, when the buzz had somewhat 
 subsided, Mr. Grey looked smiling to his son, and said, " Vivian, 
 my dear, can you tell me in what work of Bolingbroke I can find the 
 eloquent passage you have just quoted ? " — " Ask Mr. Har grave, 
 sir," replied the son, with the most perfect coolness ; then, turning 
 to the member, " You know, Mr. Hargrave, you are reputed the 
 most profound political student in the House, and more intimately 
 
23 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 acquainted than any other person with the -works of Boling- 
 broke." 
 
 Mr. Hargrave knew no such thing;— but he was a weak man, 
 and, seduced by the compliment, he was afraid to prove himself un- 
 worthy of it by confessing his ignorance of the passage. 
 
 Coffee was announced. 
 
 Vivian did not let the Peer escape him in the drawing-room. 
 He soon managed to enter into conversation with him ; and cer- 
 tainly the Marquess of Carabas never found a more entertaining- 
 companion. Vivian discoursed on a new Venetian liqueur, and 
 taught the Marquess how to mull Moselle, an operation of which 
 the Marquess had never heard (as who has ?) ; and then the flood 
 of anecdotes, and little innocent personalities, and the compliments 
 so exquisitely introduced, that they scarcely appeared to be compli- 
 ments ; and the voice so pleasant, and conciliating, and the quota- 
 tion from the Marquess' own speech; and the wonderful art of 
 v/hich the Marquess was not aware, by which, during all this time, 
 the lively, chattering, amusing, elegant conversationist, so full of 
 scandal, politics, and cookery, did not so much appear to be Mr. 
 Vivian Grey as the IMarquess of Carabas himself. 
 
 " "Well, I must be gone," said the fascinated noble ; " I really 
 have not felt in such spirits for some time ; I almost fear I have 
 been vulgar enough to be amusing, eh ! eh ! eh ! — but you young 
 men are sad fellows, eh ! eh ! eh ! — Don't forget to call on me — 
 good evening ! And Mr. Vivian Grey ! Mr. Vivian Grey ! " said his 
 Lordship, returning, " you'll not forget the receipt you promised 
 me for making tomahawk punch." 
 
 " Certainly not, my Lord," said the young man ; " only it must 
 be invented first," thought Vivian, as he took up his light to retire. 
 " But never mind, never mind ; — 
 
 Chapeau has ! chapeau bas ! 
 Glorie au Marquis de Carabas ! ! " 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A TEW days after the dinner at Mr. Grey's, as the Marquess of 
 Carabas was sitting in his library, and sighing, iu the fulness of his 
 ennui, as he looked on his large library table, once triply covered 
 with official communications, now thinly besprinkled Mith a stray 
 parliamentary paper or two, his steward's accounts, and a few 
 letters from some grumbling tenants, Mr. Vivian Grey was 
 announced. 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 29 
 
 "I fear I am intruding on your Lordsliip, but I really could not 
 refrain from bringing you tbe receipt I promised." 
 « Most happy to see ye, most happy to see ye." 
 " This is exactly the correct receipt, my Lord. To every 
 
 TWO BOTTLES OF STILL CHAMPAGNE, ONE PINT OP CURACOA." 
 
 The Peer's eyes glistened, and his companion proceeded ; " One 
 
 PINT OF CURACOA ; CATCH THE AROMA OF A POUND OF GREEN 
 TEA, AND DASH THE WHOLE WITH GLENLIVET." 
 
 " Splendid ! " ejaculated the Marquess. 
 
 " The nice point, however, which it is impossible to define in a 
 receipt, is catching the aroma. What sort of a genius is your 
 Lordship's gastrical cheff" 
 
 " First-rate ! Laporte is a genius." 
 
 " Well, my Lord ! I shall be most happy to superintend the first 
 concoction for you ; and remember particularly," said Vivian, 
 rising, " remember it must be iced." 
 
 " Certainly, my dear fellow : but pray don't think of going yet." 
 
 " I am very sorry, my Lord ; but such a pressure of engage- 
 ments — your Lordship's kindness is so great, and, really, I fear, 
 that at this moment especially, your Lordsliip can scarcely be in a 
 humour for my trifling." 
 
 " Why this moment especially, Mr. Vivian Grey ?" 
 
 " Oh, my Lord ! I am perfectly aware of your Lordship's talents 
 for business ; but still I had conceived, that the delicate situation 
 in which your Lordship is now placed, requiring such anxious at- 
 tention, such " 
 
 " Delicate situation ! anxious attention ! why man ! you speak 
 riddles. I certainly have a great deal of business to transact : 
 people are so obstinate, or so foolish, they Avill consult me, cer- 
 tainly, — and certainly I feel it my duty, Mr. Vivian Grey, — I feel 
 it the duty, sir, of every Peer in this happy country (here his 
 Lordship got parliamentary); — yes, sir, I feel it due to my 
 character, to my family, to — to — to assist with my advice, all those 
 who think fit to consult me." Splendid peroration ! 
 
 " Oh, my Lord ! " carelessly remarked Vivian, " I thought it 
 was a mere on dit." 
 
 " Thought what, my dear sir ? you really quite perplex me." 
 
 " I mean to say, my Lord — I, I thought it was impossible the 
 overtures had been made." 
 
 " Overtures, Mr. Vivian Grey ? " 
 
 " Yes, my Lord ! Overtures — hasn't your Lordship seen the 
 Post ? But I knew it was impossible, — I said so, I " 
 
 " Said what, Mr. Vivian Grey?" 
 
 " Said that the whole paragraph was unfounded." 
 
 "Paragraph! what paragraph?" and his Lordship rose, and 
 
30 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 rang the library bell witb vehemence — " Sadler, bring me the 
 Morning Post." 
 
 The servant entered with the paper : Mr. Vivian Grey seized 
 ' it from his hands before it readied the Marquess, and glancing his 
 eye over it with the rapidity of lightning, doubled up the sheet in 
 a convenient readable form, and pushing it into his Lordsliip's 
 hands, exclaimed, " There, my Lord ! there, that wiU explain 
 all." 
 
 His Lordship read : — 
 
 " We are informed that some alteration in the composition of 
 the present administration is in contemplation ; Lord Past Cen- 
 tury, it is said, will retire ; Mr. Liberal Prmciples will have the 
 
 ; and Mr. Charhitan Gas the . A noble Peer, whose 
 
 practised talents have already benefited the nation, and who, on 
 vacating his seat in the Cabinet, was elevated in the Peerage, is 
 reported as having had certain overtures made him, the nature of 
 which may be conceived ; but which, under present circumstances, 
 it would be indehcate in us to hint at." 
 
 It would have been impossible for a hawk to watch its quarry 
 with eyes of more fixed and anxious earnestness, than did Vivian 
 Grey the IMarquess of Carabas, as his Lordship's eyes wandered 
 over the paragrapli. Vivian drew his chair close to the table 
 opposite to the Marquess, and when the paragraph was read, their 
 eyes met. 
 
 " Utterly untrue," whispered the Peer, with, an agitated voice, 
 and with a countenance which, for a moment, seemed intellectual. 
 " But why Mr. Vivian Grey should deem the fact of such over- 
 tures having been made, 'impossible,' I confess astonishes me." 
 
 " Impossible, my Lord ! " 
 
 " Ay, Mr. Grey, impossible, that was your word." 
 
 " Oh, my Lord! what should I know about these matters ?" 
 
 " Nay, nay, Mr. Grey, something must have been floating in 
 your mind — why impossible, why impossible? Did your father 
 think so ?" 
 
 "]\Iy father! Oh! no, he never thinks about these matters; 
 ours is not a political family ; 1 am not sure that he ever looks 
 at a newspaper" 
 
 " But, my dear Mr. Grey, you would not have used the word 
 without some meaning. Why did you think it impossible ? — im- 
 possible is sucli a peculiar word." And here the Marquess looked 
 up with great earnestness to a portrait of himself, wliich hung 
 over the fire-place. It was one of Sir Tliomas' happiest 
 eflbrts ; but it was not the happiness of the likeness, or the 
 beauty of tlie painting, whicli now attracted his Lordship's at- 
 tention ; he thought only of the costume in which he appeared in 
 
VIVIAN* GREY. SJ 
 
 that" portrait — the court dress of a Cabinet Minister. " Impos- 
 sible, Mr. Grey, you must confess, is a very peculiar word," re- 
 iterated his Lordship. 
 
 " I said impossible, my Lord, because I did conceive, that bad 
 your Lordship been of a disposition to whicli such overtures might 
 have been made with any probability of success, the Marquess of 
 Carabas would have been in a situation which would have pre- 
 cluded the possibility of those overtures being- made at all." 
 
 " Hah!" and the Marquess nearly started fi-om his seat. 
 
 " Yes, my Lcyd, I am a young, an inexperienced young man, 
 ignorant of the world's ways ; doubtless *I was wrong, but I have 
 much to learn," and his voice faltered ; " but I did conceive, that 
 having power at his command, the Marquess of Carabas did not 
 exercise it, merely because he despised it : — but what should I 
 know of such matters, my Lord ?" 
 
 "Is power a thing so easily to be despised, young man?" asked 
 the Marquess. His eye rested on a vote of thanks from the 
 "Merchants and Bankers of London to the Right Honourable 
 Sidney Lorraine, President, &c. &c. &c.," which, splendidly em- 
 blazoned, and gilt, and framed, and glazed, was suspended opposite 
 the President's portrait. 
 
 " Oh, no ! my Lord, you mistake me," eagerly burst forth Vivian. 
 " I am no cold-blooded philosopher, that would despise that, for 
 which, in my opinion, men, real men, should alone exist. Power ! 
 Oh ! what sleepless nights, wliat days of hot anxiety ! what 
 exertions of mind and body ! what travel ! what hatred ! what 
 ilerce encounters ! what dangers of all possible kinds, would I 
 not '^ndure with a joyous spirit to gain it! But such, my Lord, I 
 thought were feelings peculiar to inexperienced young men ; and 
 seeing you, my Lord, so situated, that you might command all and 
 everything, and yet living as you do, I was naturally led to believe 
 that the object of my adoration was a vain glittering bauble, of 
 which those who could possess it, knew the utter worthlessness." 
 
 Tlie Peer sat in a musing mood, playing the Devil's tattoo on 
 the library table ; at last he raised his eyes, and said in a low 
 whisper, " Are you so certain that I can command all and every- 
 thing ? " 
 
 " All and everything ! did I say all and everything ? Really, my 
 Lord, you scan my expressions so critically ! — but I see your 
 Lordship is smiling at my boyish nonsense ! and really I feel that 
 I have already wasted too much of your Lordship's valuable time, 
 and displayed too much of my own ignorance." 
 
 " My dear sir ! I am not aware that I was smiling." 
 
 " Oh ! your Lordship is so very kind." 
 
 " But, my dear sir ! you are really labouring under a very great 
 
32 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 mistake. I am clGsirous, I am particularly desirous, of baving 
 your opinion upon this subject." 
 
 " My opinion, my Lord ! what should my opinion be, but an 
 echo of the circle in which I live, but a faithful representation of 
 the feelings of general society ? " 
 
 " And, IMr. Grey, I should be glad to know what can possibly be 
 more interesting- to me than a faithfid representation of the feelings 
 of general society on this subject?" 
 
 " Tlie many, my Lord, are not always right." 
 
 " ]\Ir. Grey, the many are not often wrong. X^ome, my dear 
 sir, do me the favotir of being- frank, and let me know why the 
 public is of opinion that all and everything are in my power, for 
 such, after all, Avere your words." 
 
 " If I did use them, my Lord, it was because I was thinking, as 
 I often do, what after all in this country is public life ? Is it not 
 a race in which the swiftest must sttrely win the prize — and is not 
 that prize power ? Has not your Lordship treasure ? There is 
 your moral steam which can work the world. Has not your Lord- 
 ship treasure's most splendid consequence, ptire blood and aristo- 
 cratic influence ? The millionaire has in his possession the seeds 
 of everything, but he must wait for half a century till his descen- 
 dant finds himself in your Lordship's state — till he is yclept noble, 
 and then he starts fair in the grand course. All these advantages 
 your Lordship has apparently at hand, with the additional advan- 
 tage (and one, oh! how great!) of having already proved to your 
 country, that you know how to rule." 
 
 There was a dead silence, which at length the Marquess broke. 
 " There is much in what you say ; but I cannot conceal it from 
 myself, I have no wish to conceal it from you — I am not what I 
 was." — O, ambition! art thou the parent of truth? 
 
 "Ah! my Lord!" eagerly rejoined Vivian, "here is the ter- 
 rible error into which you great statesmen have always fallen. 
 Think yoti not, that intellect is as much a purchasable article as 
 fine parks and fair castles ? With your Lordship's tried and 
 splendid talents, everytliing might be done ; but, in my opinion, if, 
 instead of a practised, an experienced, and wary Statesman, I was 
 now addressing an idiot Earl, I shoidd not see that the great end 
 might not equally be consummated." 
 
 " Say yoti so, my merry man, and how ?" 
 
 " Why, my Lord, — but, — but, I feel that I am trespassing on 
 your Lordship's time, otherwise I think I could show why society 
 is of opinion that your Lordship can do all and everything — how, 
 indeed, yotir Lordship might, in a very short time, be — Prime 
 Minister." 
 
 "No, Mr. Grey: — this conversation must be finished. I'll just 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 33 
 
 g'ive orders that we may not be disturbed, and then we shall proceed 
 immediately. Come, now ! your manner takes me, and we shall 
 converse in the spirit of the most perfect confidence." 
 
 Here, as the Marquess settled at the same time his chair and 
 his countenance, and looked as anxious as if Majesty itself were 
 consulting' him on the formation of a ministry, in burst the Mar- 
 chioness, notwithstanding' all the remonstrances, entreaties, threats, 
 and supplications of Mr. Sadler. 
 
 Her Ladyship had been what they style a splendid woman 
 that was now past, although, with the aid of cashmeres, dia- 
 monds, and turbans, her general appearance was still striking. 
 Her Ladyship was not remarkable for anything* save a correct 
 taste for poodles, parrots, and bijouterie, and a proper admiration 
 of Theodore Hook and John Bull. 
 
 " Oh ! Marquess," exclaimed her Ladyship, and a favourite 
 green parrot, which came flying in after its accustomed perch, her 
 Ladyship's left shoulder, shrieked at the same time in concert — 
 " Oh ! Marquess, my poor Julie ! You know we have noticed 
 how nervous she has been for some days past, and I had just given 
 her a saucer of arrow-root and milk, and she seemed a little easier 
 and I said to Miss Graves, ' I really do think she is a leetle 
 better,' and Miss Graves said, ' Yes, my Lady, I hope she is 
 when just as we flattered ourselves that the dear little creature 
 was enjoying a quiet sleep. Miss Graves called out, ' Oh, my 
 Lady! ray Lady! Julie's in a fit!' and when I turned round she 
 was lying on her back, kicking, with her eyes shut." And here the 
 Marchioness detected Mr. Grey, and gave him as sublime a stare 
 as might be expected from a lady patroness of Almack's. 
 
 " The Marchioness — Mr. Vivian Grey — my love, I assure you 
 we are engaged in a most important, a most " 
 
 " Oh ! I would not disturb you for the world, only if you wi 1 
 Just tell me what you think ought to be done ; leeches, or a warm 
 bath ; or shall I send for Doctor Blue Pill ?" 
 
 The Marquess looked a little annoyed, as if he wished her 
 Ladyship — in her own room again. He was almost meditating 
 a gentle reprimand, vexed that his grave young friend should have 
 witnessed this frivolous intrusion, when that accomplished strip- 
 ling, to the astonishment of the future minister, immediately re- 
 commended "the warm bath," and then lectured, with equal 
 rapidity and erudition, on dogs, and their diseases in general. 
 
 The Marchioness retired, " easier in her mind about Julie, than 
 she had been for some days," as Vivian assured her " that it was 
 not apoplexy, but only the first symptom of an epidemic." And as 
 she retired, she murmured her gratitude most gracefully to Julie's 
 young pliysician. 
 
S4 VIVIAN GRET. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Grey," said his Lordship, endeavouring to recover 
 liis dignity, " we were discussing the public sentiments, you know, 
 on a certain point, when this unfortunate interruption " 
 
 Vivian liad not much difficulty in collecting his ideas, and he 
 proceeded, not as displeased as his Lordship with the domestic 
 scene. 
 
 " I need not remind your Lordship, that the two great parties 
 into which this State is divided are apparently very unequally 
 proportioned. Your Lordship well knows how the party to which 
 your Lordship is said to belong, your Lordship knows, I imagine, 
 how that is constituted. We have nothing to do with the other. 
 My Lord, I must speak out. No thinking man, — and such, I 
 trust, Vivian Grey is, — no thinking man can for a moment sup- 
 pose, that your Lordship's heart is very warm in the cause of a 
 party, which — for I will not mince my words — has betrayed you. 
 How is it, it is asked by thinking men, how is it that the Marquess 
 of Carabas is — the tool of a faction ? " 
 
 The Marquess breathed aloud, " They say so, do they?" 
 
 " Why, my Lord, listen even to your servants in your own hall — 
 need I say more ? How, then ! is this opinion true ? Let us look 
 to your conduct to the party, to which you are said to belong. 
 Your votes are theirs, your influence is theirs ; and for all this, 
 what return, my Lord Marquess, what return ? My Lord, I am not 
 rash enougli to suppose, that your Loi'dship, alone and unsup- 
 ported, can make yourself the arbiter of this country's destinies. 
 It would be ridiculous to entertain such an idea for a second. 
 The existence of such a man would not be endured by the nation 
 for a second. But, my Lord, union is strength. Nay, my Lord, 
 start not — I am not going to advise you to throw yourself into the 
 arms of opposition ; leave such advice for greenhorns. I am not 
 going to adopt a line of conduct, which would, for a moment, 
 compromise the consistency of your high character ; leave such 
 advice for fools. My Lord, it is to preserve your consistency, it is 
 to vindicate your high character, it is to make the Marquess of 
 Carabas perform the duties which society requires from him, that 
 I, Vivian Grey, a member of that society, and an humble friend of 
 your Lordsliip, speak so boldly." 
 
 "My friend," said the agitated Peer, "you cannot speak too 
 boldly. My mind opens to you. I have felt, I have long felt, 
 that I was not what I ought to be, that I was not what society 
 requires me to be : — but where is your remedy, what is the line of 
 conduct that I should pursue?" 
 
 " The remedy, my Lord ! I never conceived, for a moment, 
 that tliere was any doubt of the existence of means to attain all 
 and everything. I think that was yourLordsliip's phrase. I only 
 
VIVIAN GREY. SS' 
 
 hesitated as to the existence of the inclination, on the part of your 
 Lordship." 
 
 " You cannot donbt it now," said the Peer, in a low voice ; 
 and then his Lordship looked anxiously round the room, as if 
 he feared that there had been some mysterious witness to his 
 whisper. 
 
 "My Lord," said Vivian, and he drew his chair close to the 
 Marquess, " the plan is shortly this. There are others in a similar 
 situation with yourself. All thinking' men know, — your Lordsliip 
 knows still better, — that there are others equally influential, equally 
 ill-treated. How is it that I see no concert amon^ these indi- 
 viduals ? How is it that, jealous of each other, or each trusting 
 that he may ultimately prove an exception to the sptem of which 
 he is a victim ; how is it, I say, that you look with cold hearts on 
 each other's situation ? My Lord Marquess, it is at the head of 
 these that I would place you ; it is these that I v/ould have act 
 with you — and this is the union which is strength." 
 
 " You are right, you are right ; there is Courtown, but we do 
 not speak. There is Beaconsfield, but we are not intimate, — ^but 
 much might be done." 
 
 " My Lord, you must not be daunted at a few difficulties, or at 
 a little exertion. But as for Courtown, or Beaconsfield, or fifty 
 other offended men, if it can be shown to them that their interest 
 is to be your Lordship's friend, trust me, that ere six months are 
 over, they will have pledged their troth. Leave all tliis to me — 
 give me your Lordship's name," said Vivian, whispering most 
 earnestly in the Marquess' ear, and laying his hand upon his 
 Lordship's arm — " give me your Lordship's name, and your Lord- 
 ship's influence, and I will take upon myself the whole organisation 
 of the Carabas party." 
 
 " The Carabas party ! — Ah ! we must thiiik more of this." 
 
 The Marquess' eyes smiled with triumph, as he shook Vivian 
 cordially by the hand, and begged him to call upon him on the 
 morrow. 
 
 CHAPTER in. 
 
 The intercourse between the JIarquess and Vivian, after thi* 
 interview, was constant. Xo dinner-party was thought perfect at 
 Carabas House, without the presence of the yomig gentleman ; 
 and as the Marchioness was delighted with the perpetual presence 
 of an individual whom she could always consult about Julie, there 
 was apparently no domestic obstacle to Vivian's remaining in high 
 favour. 
 
 Tlie Earl of Eglamour, the only child in whom were concen- 
 
30 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 trated all the hopes of the illustrious House of Lorraine, was in 
 Italy. The only remaining member of the domestic circle who was 
 wanting, was the Honourable Mrs. Felix Lorraine, the wife of the 
 Marquess' younger brother. This lady, exhausted by the gaiety 
 of the season, had left town somewhat earlier than she usually did, 
 and was inhaling fresh air, and studying botany, at the magnificent 
 seat of the Carabas family. Chateau Desir, at wliich splendid place 
 Vivian was to pass the summer. 
 
 In the meantime all was sunshine with Vivian Grey. His 
 noble friend and himself were in perpetual converse, and con- 
 stantly engaged in deep consultation. As yet, the world knew 
 nothing, except that, according to the Marquess of Carabas, 
 " Viviaii Grey was the most astonishingly clever and prodigiously 
 accomplished fellow that ever breathed." And as the Marquess 
 always added, "resembled himself very much when he was 
 young." 
 
 But it must not be supposed that Vivian was to all the world 
 the fascinating creature that he was to the Marquess of Carabas. 
 Many complained that he was reserved, silent, satirical, and 
 haughty. But the truth was, Vivian Grey often asked himself, 
 "Who is to be my enemy to-morrow?" He was too cunning a 
 master of the human mind, not to be aware of the quicksands 
 upon which all greenhorns strike ; he knew too well the danger 
 of unnecessary intimacy. A smile for a friend, and a sneer for the 
 world, is the way to govern mankind, and such was the motto of 
 Vivian Grey. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 How shall we describe Chateau Desir, that place fit for all 
 princes ? In the midst of a park of great extent, and eminent 
 for scenery, as varied as might please Nature's most capricious 
 lover ; in the midst of green lawns, and deep winding glens, and 
 cooling streams, and wild forest, and soft woodland, there was 
 gradually formed an elevation, on which was situate a mansion of 
 great size, and of that bastard, but picturesque style of archi- 
 tecture, called the Italian Gothic. The date of its erection was 
 about the middle of the sixteenth century. You entered by a 
 noble gateway, in which the pointed style still predominated ; but 
 in various parts of wliich, the Ionic column, and tlie ])roniinent 
 keystone, and other creations of Roman architecture, inter- 
 mingled with the expiring Gothic, into a large quadrangle, to 
 which the square casement windows, and the triangular pedimeuta 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 37 
 
 or gable ends, supplying the place of battlements, gave a vai-ied 
 and Italian feature. In the centre of the court, from a vast 
 marble basin, the rim of which was enriched by a splendidly- 
 sculptured lotus border, rose a marble group, representing Amplii- 
 trite with her marine attendants, whose sounding shells and corals 
 sceptres sent forth their subject element in sparkling showers. 
 This work, the chef d'oeuvre of a celebrated artist of Vicenza, had 
 been purchased by Valerian, first Lord Carabas, who having spent 
 the greater part of his life as the representative of his monarch at 
 the Ducal Court of Venice, at length returned to his native 
 country; and in the creation of Chateau Desir, endeavoured to 
 find some consolation for the loss of his beautiful villa on the banks 
 of the Adige. 
 
 Over the gateway there rose a turreted tower, the small square 
 window of which, notwithstanding its stout stanchions, illumined 
 the muniment room of the House of Carabas. In the spandrils 
 of the gateway, and in many other parts of the building, might be 
 seen the arms of the family; while the tall twisted stacks of 
 chimneys, which appeared to spring from all parts of the roof, were 
 carved and built in such curious and quaint devices, that they 
 were rather an ornament than an excrescence. When you entered 
 the quadrangle, you found one side solely occupied by the old hall, 
 the huge carved rafters of whose oak roof rested on corbels of the 
 family supporters, against the walls. These walls were of stone, 
 but covered half way from the ground with a panelling of curiously- 
 carved oak ; whence were suspended, in massy frames, the family 
 portraits, painted by Dutch and Italian artists. Near the Dais, or 
 upper part of the hall, there projected an oriel window, which, as 
 you beheld, you scarcely knew what most to admire, the radiancy 
 of its painted panes, or the fantastic richness of Gothic ornament, 
 which was profusely lavished in every part of its masonry. Here 
 too the Gothic pendent, and the Gothic fan-work, were inter- 
 mingled with the Italian arabesques, which, at the time of the 
 building of the Chateau, had been recently introduced into 
 England by Hans Holbein and John of Padua. 
 
 How wild and fanciful are those ancient arabesques ! Here at 
 Chateau Desir, in the panelling of the old hall, might you see 
 fantastic scrolls, separated by bodies ending in termini, and whose 
 heads supported the Ionic volute, while the arch, which appeared 
 to spring from these capitals, had, for a keystone, heads more mon- 
 strous than those of the fabled animals of Ctesias ; or so ludicrous, 
 that you forgot the classic Griffin in the grotesque conception of 
 the Italian artist. Here was a gibbering monkey, there a grin- 
 ning Pulcinello ; now you viewed a chattering devil, which might 
 have figured in the Temptation of St. Anthony ; and now a mourn- 
 
33 VIVIAN GKEY. 
 
 ful, mystic, bearded countenance, which mig'ht have flitted in the 
 back scene of a Witches' Sabbath. 
 
 A long gallery wound through the irpper story of two other 
 sides of the quadrangle, and beneath were the show suite of apart- 
 ments, with a sight of which the admiring eyes vf curious tourists 
 were occasionally delighted. 
 
 Tlie grey stone walls of this antique edifice were, in many places, 
 tliickly covered witli ivy, and other parasitical plants, the deep 
 green of whose verdure beautifully contrasted with the scarlet 
 glories of the pyrus japonica, which gracefully clustered round the 
 windows of the lower chambers. The mansion itself was imme- 
 diately surrounded by numerous ancient forest trees. There was 
 the elm, with its rich branches, bending down like clustering grapes ; 
 there Avas the wide-spreading oak, with its roots fantastically 
 gnarled; there was the ash, with its smooth bark and elegant leaf; 
 and the silver beech, and the gracile birch; and the dark 
 fir, affording with its rough foliage a contrast to the trunks 
 of its more beautiful companions, or shooting far above their 
 branches, with the spirit of freedom worthy of a rough child of 
 the mountains. 
 
 Around the Castle were extensive pleasure-grounds, which real- 
 ised the romance of the Gardens of Verulam. And truly, as you 
 wandered through their enchanting paths, there seemed no end 
 to their various beauties, and no exhaustion of their perpetual 
 novelty. Green retreats succeeded to winding walks ; from the 
 shady ber9eau, you vaulted on the noble ten-ace ; and if, for an 
 instant, you felt wearied by treading the velvet lawn, you might 
 rest in a mossy cell, while your mind was soothed by the soft music 
 of falling waters. Now, your cui'ious eyes were greeted by Ori- 
 ental animals, basking in a sunny paddock ; and when you turned 
 from the white-footed antelope, and the dark-eyed gazelle, you 
 viewed an aviary of such extent, that within its trellis ed walls the 
 imprisoned songsters could build, in the free branches of a tree, 
 their natural nests. 
 
 '• O fair scene ! " thought Vivian Grey, as he approached, on a 
 fine summer's afternoon, the splendid Chateau. " O, fair scene ! 
 doubly fair to those who quit for thee the thronged and agitated 
 city. And can it be, that those who exist witliin this enchanted 
 domain, can think of anything but sweet air, and do aught but 
 revel in the breath of perfumed flowers?" And licrc he gained 
 the garden-gate : so he stopped his soliloquy, and gave his horse 
 to his groom. 
 
VIVIAN' GREY. 89 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The Marquess Imd preceded Vivian in his arrival about tlu'ee or 
 four days, aud of course, to use tlie common phrase, the establish- 
 ment " was quite settled." It was, indeed, to avoid the possibility 
 of witnessing- the domestic arrangements of a nobleman in any 
 other point of view save that of perfection, that Vivian had de- 
 clined accompanying- his noble friend to the Chateau. Mr. Grey, 
 junior, was an epicurean, and all epiciu-eans will quite agree with 
 me, that his conduct on this head was extremely wise. I am not 
 very nice myself about these matters ; but there are, we all know, 
 a thousand little things that go wrong on the arrivals of even the 
 best regulated families ; and to mention no others, for any rational 
 being voluntarily to encounter the awful gaping of an English 
 family, who have travelled one hundred miles in ten successive 
 hours, appears to me to be little short of madness. 
 . " Grey, my boy, quite happy to see ye ! — later than I expected ; 
 fii'st bell rings in five minutes — Sadler will show you your room. 
 Your father, I hope, quite well ? '"' 
 
 Such was the salutation of the I^Iarquess : and Vivian accord- 
 ingly retii'^^d to arrange his toilet. 
 
 The first bell rang, and the second bell rang, and Vivian was 
 seated at the dinner-table. He bowed to the ^Marchioness, and 
 asked after her poodle, and gazed with some little curiosity at the 
 vacant chair opposite him. 
 
 " ISIrs. Felix Lorraine — Air. Vivian Grey,'' said the [Marquess, 
 as a lady entered the room. 
 
 Now, although we are of those historians who are of opinion 
 that the nature of the personages they celebrate should be deve- 
 loped rather by a recital of their conduct than by a set character 
 on their introduction, it is, nevertheless, incumbent upon us to 
 devote a few lines to the lady who has just entered, which the 
 reader will be so good as to get through, while she is accepting 
 an offer of some white soup ; by this means he will lose none of 
 the conversation. 
 
 The Honourable Felix Lorraine we have before described as a 
 Roue. After having passed through a career with tolerable credit, 
 which would have blasted the character of any vulgar personage, 
 Felix Lorraine ended by pigeoning a young nobleman, whom, for 
 that purpose, he had made his intimate friend. The aifair got 
 wind — after due examination, was proclaimed " too bad," and the 
 guilty personage was visited with the heaviest vengeance of modern 
 society — he was expelled his club. By this unfortunate exposure, 
 Mr. Felix Lorraine was obliged to give in a match, which was 
 
40 VIVIAN GEEY. 
 
 on the tapis, with the celebrated Miss Mexico, on whose million 
 he had determined to set \i\) a character and a chariot, and at the 
 same time pension his mistress, and subscribe to the Society for 
 the Suppression of Vice. Felix left England for the Continent, 
 and in due time was made drum-major at Barbados, or fiscal at 
 Ceylon, or something- of that kind. While he loitered in Europe, 
 he made a conquest of the heart of the daughter of some German 
 baron, and after six weeks passed in the most affectionate manner, 
 the happy couple performing their respective duties with perfect 
 propriety, Felix left Germany for his colonial appointment, and 
 also left — his lady behind him. 
 
 Mr. Lorraine had duly and dutifully informed his family of his 
 marriage ; and they, as amiably and affectionately, had never an- 
 swered his letters, which he never expected they would. Profiting 
 by their example, he never answered his wife's, who, in due time, 
 to the horror of the IMarquess, landed in England, and claimed 
 the protection of her " beloved husband's family." The IMarquess 
 vowed he would never see her ; the lady, however, one morning 
 gained admittance, and from that moment she had never quitted 
 her brother-in-law's roof, and not only had never quitted it, but 
 now made the greatest favour of her staying. 
 
 The extraordinary influence which ]\Irs. Felix Lorraine pos- 
 sessed was certainly not owing to her beauty, for the lady opposite 
 Vivian Grey had apparently no claims to admiration, on the score 
 of her personal qualifications. Her complexion was bad, and her 
 features were indifferent, and these characteristics were not ren- 
 dered less uninterestingly conspicuous, by what makes an other- 
 wise ugly woman quite the reverse, namely, a pair of expressive 
 eyes ; for certainly this epithet could not be applied to those of 
 Mrs. Felix Lorraine, which gazed in all the vacancy of German 
 listlessness. 
 
 The lady did bow to Mr. Grey, and that was all ; and then slie 
 negligently spooned her soup, and then, after much parade, sent it 
 away untouched. Vivian was not under the necessity of paying 
 any immediate courtesy to his opposite neighbour, whose silence, 
 he perceived, was for the nonce, and consequently for him. But 
 the day was hot, and Vivian had been fatigued by his ride, and 
 the Marquess' champagne was excellent ; and so, at last, the- 
 floodgates of his speech burst, and talk he did. He complimented 
 her Ladyship's poodle, quoted German to IMrs. Felix Lorraine, 
 and taught the Marquess to eat cabinet pudding with curacoa 
 sauce (a custom which, by-the-bye, I recommend to all) ; and then 
 his stories, his scandal, and his sentiment; — stories for the Mar- 
 quess, scandal for the IMarchioness, and sentiment for the Mar- 
 quess' sister ! That lady, who began to find out her man, had no 
 
VIVIAN GKEY. 41 
 
 mind to be longer silent, unci altliough a perfect mistress of the 
 English language, began to articulate a horrible patois, that she 
 might not be mistaken for an Englishwoman, an occurrence which 
 she particularly dreaded. But now came her punishment, for 
 Vivian saw the effect which he had produced on Mrs. Felix Lor- 
 raine, and that Mrs. Felix Lorraine now wished to produce a cor- 
 responding effect upon him, and this he was determined she 
 should not do ; so new stories followed, and new compliments en- 
 sued, and finally he anticipated her sentences, and sometimes her 
 thoughts. The lady sat silent and admiring! At last the impor- 
 tant meal was finished, and the time came when good dull English 
 dames retire ; but of this habit Mrs. Felix Lorraine did not ap- 
 prove ; and although she had not yet pi-evailed upon Lady Carabas 
 to adopt her ideas on field days, still, when alone, the good-natured 
 Marchioness had given in, and to save herself from hearing the 
 din of male voices at a time at which during her whole life she 
 had been unaccustomed to them, the Marchioness of Carabas — 
 dozed. Her worthy spouse, who was prevented, by the presence of 
 Mrs. Felix Lorraine, from talking politics with Vivian, passed the 
 bottle pretty briskly, and then conjecturing that " from the sunset 
 we should have a fine day to-morrow," fell back in his easy chair 
 and — snored. 
 
 Mrs. Felix Lorraine looked at her noble relatives, and shrugged 
 up her shoulders with an air which baffleth all description. " Mr. 
 Grey, I congratulate you on this hospitable reception ; you see wo 
 treat you quite en famille. Come I 'tis a fine evening, you have 
 seen, as yet, but little of Chateau Desir : we may as well enjoy 
 the tine air on the Teri'ace." 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 
 " You must know, Mr. Grey, that this is my ftivourite walk, and 
 I therefore expect that it will be yours." 
 
 " It cannot indeed fail to be such, the favourite as it alike is, of 
 Nature, and Mrs. Felix Lorraine." 
 
 "On my word, a very pretty sentence! — and who taught you, 
 young sir, to bandy words so fairly?" 
 
 " I never can open my mouth, except in the presence of a wo- 
 man," observed Vivian, with impudent mendacity ; and he looked 
 interesting and innocent. 
 
 " Indeed ! — and what do you know about such wicked work, as 
 talking to women ?" and here Mrs. Felix Lorraine imitated Vivian's 
 sentimental voice. « Do you know," she continued, '• I feel quite 
 
42 VIVIAN OEEY. 
 
 happy that you have come down here ; — I bc^in to thiuk that we 
 shall be great frieuds." 
 
 " Nothing appears to me more evident," said Vivian 
 
 " How delicious is friendship," exclaimed Mrs. Felix Lorraine . 
 " delightful sentiment, that prevents life from being a curse ! Have 
 you a friend, Mr. Vivian Grey?" 
 
 "Before I answer that question, I should like to know what 
 meaning Mrs. Felix Lorraine attaches to that important monosyl- 
 lable, friend." 
 
 " Oh, you want a definition : I hate definitions , and of all the 
 definitions in the v/orld, the one I have been most uufoi-tunate in 
 has been a definition of friendship, — I might say" — and here her 
 voice sunk, — " I might say, of aU the sentiments in the world, 
 fi-iendship is the one which has been most fatal to me ; but I must 
 not inoculate you with my bad spirits, bad spirits are not for 
 young blood like yours, leave them to old persons like myself." 
 
 " Old ! " said Vivian, ia a proper tone of surprise. 
 
 " Old! ay old, — how old do you think I am?" 
 
 " You may have seen twenty summers," gallantly conjectured 
 Vivian. 
 
 The lady looked pleased, and almost insinuated that she had 
 seen one or two more. 
 
 " A clever woman," thought Vivian, " but vain ; I hardly know 
 M^hat to think of her." 
 
 " Mr. Grey, I fear you find me in bad spirits to-day ; but, alas! 
 I — I ha\'e cause. Although we see each other to-day for the first 
 time, yet there is something in your manner, something in the ex- 
 pression of your eyes, that make me believe my happiness is not 
 altogether a matter of indifl'crence to you." These words, uttered 
 in one of the sweetest voices by which ever human being was fasci- 
 nated, were slowly and deliberately spoken, as if it were intended 
 that they should rest on the ear of the object to whom they were 
 addressed; 
 
 " My dearest madam ! it is impossible that I can have but one 
 sentiment with regard to you, that of " 
 
 " Of what, Mr. Grey?" 
 
 " Of solicitude for your welfare." 
 
 The lady gently took the arm of the young man, and then with 
 an agitated voice, and a troubled spirit, dwelt upon the unhappiness 
 of her lot, and the cruelty of her fortunes. Her husband's indif- 
 ference was the sorrowful theme of her lamentations; and she 
 ended by asking Mr. Vivian Grey's advice, as to the line of con- 
 duct TVhich she should pursue with regard to him ; first duly in- 
 forming Vivian that this was the only time, and he the only pereou, 
 -to whom this subject had been ever mentioned. 
 
VIVIAX GKEY. 43 
 
 " And wlij- should I mention it here — aud to whom ? The Mar- 
 quess is the best of men, but " and liere she looked up in Vivian's 
 
 face, and spoke rohiraes ; " and the iMarchioness is the most amia- 
 ble of women, — at least, I suppose her lap-dog thinks so." 
 
 The advice of Vivian was very concise. He sent the husband to 
 the devil in two seconds, and insisted upon the wife's not thinking' 
 of him for another moment ; and then the ladj dried her eyes, and 
 promised to do her best. 
 
 '• And now," said Mrs. Felix Lorraine, " I must tdk about your 
 own affairs — I think your plan excellent." 
 
 '• Plan, madam !" 
 
 " Yes, plan, sir ! the Marquess has told me all. I have no head for 
 politics, ]\Ir. Gi'ey; but if I cannot assist you in managing the 
 nation, I perhaps may in manag-ing the family, and my services are 
 ftt your command. Believe me, you'll have enough to do : there, 
 I pledge you my troth. Do you think it a pretty hand? " 
 
 Vivian did think it a very pretty hand, aud he performed due 
 courtesies in a becoming style. 
 
 '•' Aud now, good even to you," said the lady ; " this little gate 
 leads to my apartments. Yon will have no difficulty in finding 
 your way back :" — so saying, she disappe.xi'cd. 
 
 CHAPTER Vn. 
 
 The first week at Chateau Desir passed pleasantly enough. 
 Vivian's morning was amply occupied in maturing with the Mar- 
 quess the grand principles of the new political system : in weigh- 
 ing interests, in balancing connections, and settling " what side 
 was to be taken on the great questions ? " O ! politics, thou splendid 
 juggle ! — The whole business, although so magnificent in its result, 
 appeared very easy to the two counsellors, for it was one of the 
 first principles of Mr. Vivian Grey, that everything was possible. 
 Men did fail in life to be sure, aud after all, very little was done by 
 the generality ; but still all these failures, and all this inefficiency, 
 might be traced to a want of physical and mental courage. Some 
 men were bold in their conceptions, and splendid heads at a grand 
 system, but then, when the day of battle came, they turned out xerj 
 cowards ; while others, who had nerve enough to stand the brunt 
 of the hottest fire, were utterly ignorant of military tactics, and 
 fell before the destroyer, like the brave untutored Indians before 
 the civilised European. Now Vivian Grey was conscious, that 
 there was at least one person in the world who was no craven 
 'Cither in body or in mind, and so he had long come to the com- 
 
44 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 fortable conclusion, that it was impossible that his career could be 
 anything but the most brilliant. And truly, employed as he now 
 was, with a peer of the realm, in a solemn consultation on that 
 realm's most important interests, at a time when creatures of his 
 age were moping in Halls and Colleges, is it to be wondered at, 
 that he began to imagine that his theory was borne out by expe- 
 rience, and by fact ? Not that it must be supposed, even for a mo- 
 ment, that Vivian Grey was what the world calls conceited. — Oh, 
 no! he knew the measure of his own mind, and had fathomed the 
 depth of his powers with equal skill and impartiality ; but in the 
 process he could not but feel, that he could conceive much, and 
 dare do more. 
 
 We said tlie first week at Chateau Desir passed pleasantly 
 enough ; and so it did, for Vivian's soul revelled in the morning 
 councils on his future fortunes, with as much eager joy as a young 
 courser tries the turf, preliminary to running for the plate. And 
 then, in the evening, were moonlit walks with Mrs. Felix Lorraine! 
 and then the lady abused England so prettily, and initiated her 
 companion in all the secrets of German Courts, and sang beautiful 
 French songs, and told the legends of her native land in such an 
 interesting, semi-serious tone, that Vivian almost imagined that 
 she believed them — and then she would take him beside the lumi- 
 nous lake in the park, and vow it looked just like the dark blue 
 Rhine ! and then she remembered Germany, and grew sad, and 
 abused her husband ; and then she taught Vivian the guitar, and 
 — some other fooleries besides. 
 
 CHAPTER Vni. 
 
 The second week of Vivian's visit had come round, and the flag 
 waved proudly on the proud tower of Chateau Desir, indicating to 
 the admiring county, that the most noble Sidney, IMarquess of 
 Carabas, held public days twice a-week at his grand Castle. And 
 now came the neighbouring peer, full of grace and gravity, and tlie 
 mellow baronet, with his hearty laugh, and the jolly country squire, 
 and the middling gentry, and the jobbing country attorney, and the 
 flourishing coimtry surveyor — some honouring by their presence, 
 some who felt the obligation equal, and others bending before the 
 noble host, as if paying him adoration, was almost an equal plea- 
 sure with that of guzzling his venison pasties, and quaffing his 
 bright wines. 
 
 Independently of all these periodical visitors, the house was full 
 of permanent ones. There were the Viscount and Viscountess 
 Courtown and their three daughters, and Lord and Lady Beacons- 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 45 
 
 field and their three sons, and Sir Berdmore and Lady Scrope, and 
 Colonel Delmington of the Guards, and Lady Louisa Manvers 
 and her daughter Julia. Lady Louisa -was the only sister of the 
 Marquess — a widow, proud and penniless. 
 
 To all these distinguished personages, Vivian was introduced by 
 the Marquess as '• a monstrous clever young man, and his Lord- 
 ship's most particular friend" — and then the noble Carabas left the 
 game in his young friend's hands. 
 
 And right well Vivian did his duty. In a week's time it would 
 have been hard to decide with whom of the family of the Cour- 
 towns Vivian was the greatest favourite. He rode with the Vis- 
 count, who was a good horseman, and was driven by his Lady, who 
 was a good whip ; and when he had sufBciently admired the tout 
 ensemble of her Ladyship's pony phaeton, he entrusted her, '■' in 
 confidence," with some ideas of his own about Martingales, a sub- 
 ject which he assured her Ladyship " had been the object of his 
 mature consideration." The three honourable IMisses were the 
 most difficult part of the business ; but he tallced sentiment with 
 the first, sketched with the second, and romped with the third. 
 
 Ere the Beaconsfields could be jealous of the influence of the 
 Courtowns, Jlr. Vivian Grey had promised his Lordship, who was 
 a collector of medals, an unique, Avhich had never yet been heard 
 of; and her Ladyship, who was a collector of autographs, the pri- 
 vate letters of every man of genius that ever had been heard of. 
 In this division of the Carabas guests, he was not bored with a 
 fixmily ; for sons, he always made it a rule to cut dead ; they are 
 the members of a family who, on an average, are generally very 
 uninfluential, for, on an average, they are fools enough to think it 
 very knowing, to be very disagreeable. So the wise man but little 
 loves them,«but woe to the fool who neglects the daughters! • 
 
 Sir Berdmore Scrope, Vivian found a more unmanageable per- 
 sonage ; for the baronet was confoundedly shrewd, and without a 
 particle of sentiment in his composition. It was a great thing, 
 however, to gain him ; for Sir Berdmore was a leading country 
 gentleman, and having quarrelled with Ministers about the corn 
 laws, had been counted disaffected ever since. The baronet, how- 
 ever, although a bold man to the world, was luckily henpecked ; so 
 Vivian made love to the wife, and secured the husband. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 I THINK that Julia Manvers wag really the most beautiful crea- 
 ture that ever smiled in this fair world. Such a symmetrically 
 formed shape, such perfect features, such a radiant complexion, 
 
46 VIVIAN GRET. 
 
 such luxuriant auburn hair, and such blue eyes, lit up by a smile of 
 such mind and meaning;, have seldom blessed the gaze of admiring 
 man ! Vivian Grey, frosli as he was, \r&s not exactly the creature 
 to lose his heart very speedily. He looked upon marriage as a 
 certain fiirce in which, sooner or later, he was, as a well-paid actor, 
 to play his part ; and could it have advanced his views one jot, he 
 would have married the Princess Caraboo to-morrow. But of all 
 wives in the world, a young and handsome one was thr.t which he 
 most dreaded ; and how a statesman, who was wedded to a beauti- 
 ful woman, could possibly perform his duties to the public, did most 
 exceedingly puzzle him. Notwithstanding these sentiments, how- 
 ever, Vivian began to think that there really could be no harm 
 ill talking to so beautiful a creature as Julia, and a little conversa- 
 tion with her would, he felt, be no unpleasing relief to the difficult 
 duties in which he was involved. 
 
 To the astonishment of the Honourable Buckhurst Stanhope, 
 eldest sou of Lord Beaconsfield, Mr. Vivian Grey, who had never 
 yet condescended to acknowledge his existence, asked him one 
 morning, with the most fascinating of smiles, and with the most 
 conciliating voice, " whether they should ride together." The 
 young heir'apparent looked stiff, and assented. He arrived again 
 at Chateau Desir in a couple of hours, desperately enamoured of 
 the eldest Miss Courtown. The sacrifice of two mornings to the 
 Honourable Dormer Stanhope, and the Honourable Gregory Stan- 
 hope, sent them home equally captivated by the remaining' sisters.^ 
 Having thus, like a man of honour, provided for the amusement of 
 his former friends, the three Miss Courtowns, Vivian left Mrs. 
 Felix Lorraine to the Colonel, Avhose mustache, by-thc-bye, that 
 lady considerably patronised, and then, having excited an universal 
 feeling of gallantry among the elders, Vivian found his whole day 
 at the service of Julia Manvcre. 
 
 " Miss Manvers, I tliink that you and I are the only faithful sub- 
 jects in this Castle of Indolence. Here am I lounging on an otto- 
 man, my ambition reaching only so far as the possession of a 
 chibouque, whose aromatic and circling wreaths, I candidly con- 
 fess, I dare not here excite ; and you, of course, much too knowing 
 to be doing anything on the first of August, save dreaming of races, 
 archery feats, and county balls— the three most delightful things 
 vi^hich the country can boast, either for man, woman, or child."' 
 
 " Of course, you except sporting for yourself^shooting espe- 
 cially, I suppose." 
 
 "Shooting, oh! ah! there is such a thing. No, I'm no shot; 
 — not that I have not in my time cultivated a Manton ; but the 
 truth is, having, at an early age, mistaken my most intimate friend 
 for a cock pheasant, I sent a wliole crowd of fours into his face, and 
 
VIVIAX GREY, 47 
 
 thereby spoilt one of the prettiest countenances in Christendom ; so 
 I gave up the field. Besides, as Tom Moore says, I have so much to 
 do in the country, that, for my part, I really have no time for killing 
 birds and jumping' over ditches : good work enough for country 
 squires, who must, like all others, have their hours of excitement. 
 Mine are of a different nature, and boast a difl'erent locality ; and 
 so when I come into the country, 'tis for pleasant air, and beautiful 
 trees, and winding streams — things which, of course, tliose who live 
 among them all the year round do not suspect to be lovely and 
 adorable creations. Don't you agree v.'ith Tom Moore, Miss 
 IManvers ? " 
 
 " Oh. of course ! but I think it is very improper, that habit, which 
 every one has, of calling a man of such eminence as the author of 
 * Lalla Rookh ' Tom Moore." 
 
 " I wish he could but hear you '. But, suppose I were to quote 
 Mr. Moore, or Mr. Thomas Moore, would you have the most dis- 
 tant conception whom I meant ? No, no, certainly not. By- 
 the-bye, did you ever hear the pretty name they gave him at 
 Paris?" 
 
 "Xo! what was it?" 
 
 " One day, Moore and Rogers went to call on Denon. Rogers 
 gave their names to the Swiss, Moiisieur liogers et Monsieur 
 Moore. The Swiss dashed open the library door, and, to the great 
 surprise of the illustrious antiquary, announced. Monsieur I'Amour ! 
 While Denon was doubting whether the God of Love was really 
 paying him a visit or not, Rogers entered. I should like to have 
 seen Denon's face ! " 
 
 " And Monsieur Denon did take a portrait of Mr. Rogers as 
 Cupid, I believe?" 
 
 "Come, madam, 'no scandal about Queen Elizabeth.' ]Mr. 
 Rogers is one of the most elegant-minded men in the country." 
 
 " Nay ! do not lecture me with such a laughing face, or else 
 your moral will be utterly thrown away." 
 
 " Ah ! you have Retsch's Faust there. I did not expect on a 
 drawing-room table at Chateau Desir, to see auytliing so old, and 
 so excellent. 1 thought the third edition of Tremaine would 
 be a very fair specimen of your ancient literature, and Jlajor 
 Denham's hair- breadth escapes of your modern. There was an 
 excellent story about, on the return of Denham and Clapperton. 
 The travellers took different routes, in order to arrive at the same 
 point of destination. In his wanderings the Major came unto an 
 unheard-of Lake, which, with the sp'rit which they of the Guards 
 surely approved, he christened ' Lake Waterloo.' Clapperton ar- 
 rived a few days after him ; and the pool was fmmediately re- 
 baptised, ' Lake Trafalgar.' Thei'e was a hot quarrel iu couse- 
 
48 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 quenee. Now, if I had been there, I would have arranged mat- 
 ters, by proposing as a title, to meet the views of all parties, 
 ' The United Service Lake.' " 
 
 " That would have been happy." 
 
 " How beautiful Margaret is ! " said Vivian, rising from his otto- 
 man, and seating himself on the sofa by the lady •• I always think 
 that this is the only Personification where Art has not rendered 
 Innocence insipid." 
 
 " Do you think so ? " 
 
 " Why, take Una in the Wilderness, or Goody Two Shoes. 
 These, I believe, were the most innocent persons that ever existed, 
 and I am sure you will agree with me, they always look the most 
 insipid. Nay, perhaps I was wrong in what I said ; perhaps it is 
 Insipidity that always looks innocent, not Innocence always in- 
 sipid." 
 
 " How can you refine so, when the thermometer is at 100" ! 
 Pray, tell me some more stories." 
 
 " I cannot, I am in a refining humour ; I could almost lecture 
 to-day at the Royal Institution. You would not call these exactly 
 Prosopopeias of Innocence?" said Vivian, turning over a bundle 
 of Stewart Newton's beauties, languishing, and lithographed. 
 " Newton, I suppose, like Lady Wortley Montague, is of opinion, 
 that the fiice is not the most beautiful part of woman ; at least, if 
 I am to judge from these elaborate ancles. Now the countenance 
 of this Donna, forsooth, has a drowsy placidity worthy of the easy 
 chair she is lolling in, and yet her ancle would not disgrace the 
 contorted frame of the most pious Faquir." 
 
 " Well! I am an admirer of Newton's paintings." 
 
 " Oh ! so am I. He is certainly a cleverish fellow, but rather 
 too much among the blues ; a set, of whom, I would venture to 
 say, Miss Manvers knoweth little about?" 
 
 " Oh, not the least ! Mamma does not visit that way. What 
 are they ? " 
 
 " Oh, very powerful people ! though ' Mamma does not visit 
 that way.' Their words are Ukases as far as Curzon Street, and 
 very Decretals in the general vicinity of May Fair ; but you 
 shall have a further description another time. How those rooks 
 bore ! I hate staying with ancient families ; you are always cawed 
 to death. If ever you write a novel. Miss Manvers, mind you 
 have a rookery in it. Since Tremaine, and Washington Irving, 
 nothing will go down without." 
 
 " By-the-bye, who is the author of Tremaine ? " 
 
 " It is either Mr. Ryder, or Mr. Spencer Percival, or Mr. Dyson, 
 or Miss Dyson,' or Mr. Bowles, or the Duke of Buckingham, or 
 Mr. Ward, or a young officer in the Guards, or an old Clergyman in 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 49 
 
 the North of England, or a middle-ag-ed Barrister on the Midland 
 Circuit." 
 
 '• ^'Ir. Grey, I wish you could get me an autograph of Mr. 
 Washington Irving ; I want it for a particular friend." 
 
 " Give me a pen and ink ; I will write you one immediately." 
 
 "Ridiculous!" 
 
 " There ! now you have made me blot Faustus." 
 
 At this moment the room-door suddenly opened, and as suddenly 
 shut. 
 
 "Who was that?" 
 
 " Mephistophiles, or Mrs. Felix Lorraine; one or the other, 
 perhaps both." 
 
 "What!" 
 
 " What do you think of Mrs. Felix Lorraine, Miss Mauvers ? " 
 
 " Oh ! I think her a very amusing woman, a very clever wo- 
 man, a very — but " 
 
 "But what?" 
 
 " But I cannot exactly make her out." 
 
 " Xor I, nor I — she is a dark riddle ; and, although I am a very 
 (Edipus, I confess I have not yet unravelled it. Come, there is 
 Washington Irving's autograph for you ; read it, isn't it quite in 
 character ? Shall I write any more ? One of Sir Walter's, or 
 Mr. Southey's, or Mr. Milman's, or ]\Ir. Disraeli's ? or shall I 
 sprawl a Byron ? " 
 
 " I really cannot sanction such unprincipled conduct. You may 
 make me one of Sir Walter's, however." 
 
 "Poor Washington, poor Washington !" said Vivian, writing 
 " I knew him well in London. He always slept at dinner. One 
 day, as he was dining at Mr. Hallam's, they took him, when asleep, 
 to Lady Jersey's : and, to see the Sieur Geoffrey, they say, when 
 lie opened his eyes in the illumined saloons, was really quite ad- 
 mirable ! quite an Arabian tale ! " 
 
 " How delightful ! I should have so liked to have seen him ! 
 He seems quite forgotten now in England. How came we to talk 
 of him?" 
 
 " Forgotten — oh ! he spoilt his elegant talents in writing Ger- 
 man and Italian twaddle with all the rawness of a Yankee. 
 He ought never to have left America, at least in literature : — 
 there was an uncontested and glorious field for him. He should 
 have been managing Director of the Hudson Bay Company, and 
 lived all his life among the beavers." 
 
 " I think there is nothing more pleasant than talking over the 
 season, in the country, in August." 
 
 " Nothing more agreeable. It was dull, though, last season, very 
 dull ; I think the game cannot be kept going another year. If it 
 
 4 
 
50 VIVIAN GEET, 
 
 were not for the General Election, we really must have a war for 
 variety's sake. Peace gets quite a bore. Everybody you dine with 
 has a good cook, and gives you a dozen different wines, all perfect. 
 We cannot bear this any longer ; all the lights and shadows of 
 life are lost. The only good thing I heard this year was au 
 ancient gentlewoman going up to Gimter and asking him for ' the 
 receipt for that white stuff,' pointing to his Roman punch. I, 
 who am a great man for receipts, gave it her immediately : — ' One 
 hod of mortar to one bottle of Noyau.' " 
 
 " And did she thank you ? " 
 
 " Thank me ! ay, truly ; and pushed a card into my hand, so 
 thick and sharp, that it cut through my glove. I wore my arm in 
 a sling for a month afterwards." 
 
 " And what was the card?" 
 
 " Oh, you need not look so arch ! The old lady was not even a 
 faithless duenna. It was an invitation to an assembly, or some- 
 thing of the kind, at a place, somewhere, as Theodore Hook 
 or Mr. Croker would say, ' between Mesopotamia and Russell 
 Square.' " 
 
 " Pray, Mr. Grey, is it true that all the houses in Russell 
 Square are tenantless?" 
 
 " Quite true ; the Marquess of Tavistock has given up the 
 county in consequence. A perfect shame, is it not? Let us 
 write it up." 
 
 " An admirable plan ! but we will take the houses first, at a 
 pepper-corn rent." 
 
 " What a pity. Miss Manvers, the fashion has gone out of selling 
 oneself to the devil." 
 
 '' Good gracious, Mr. Grey ! 
 
 " On my honour, I am quite serious. It does appeal- to me to 
 be a very great pity. What a capital plan for younger brothers ! 
 It is a kind of thing 1 have been trying to do all my life, and 
 never could succeed. I began at school with toasted cheese and a 
 pitch-fork ; and since then I have invoked, with all the eloquence 
 of Goethe, the evil one in the solitude of the Hartz, but without 
 success. I think I should make an excellent bargain with him : 
 of course, I do not mean tliat ugly vulgar savage with a fiery 
 tale. Oh, no! Satan himself for me, a perfect gentleman! Or 
 Belial — Belial would be the most delightful. He is the fine 
 gcniufe of the Inferno, I imagine, the Berauger of Pande- 
 monium." 
 
 " I really cannot listen to such nonsense one moment longer. 
 What would you have if Belial were here?" 
 
 " Let us see. Now, you shall act the spirit, and I, Vivian Grey. 
 I wish we had a short-hand writer here to take down the InciUita- 
 
TIVIAN Gr.ET. 51 
 
 tion Scene. We would send it to Arnold — Commen^OTis — Spirit ! 
 I will have a fair castle." 
 
 The lady bowed. 
 
 " I will have a palace in town." 
 
 The lady bowed. 
 
 " I will have a fair wife. "SVhy, Miss Manvers, you forget to 
 bow!" 
 
 " I really heg your pardon ! " 
 
 " Come, this is a novel way of making an offer, and, I hope, a 
 successful one." 
 
 " Julia, my dear," cried a voice in the veranda, " Julia, mj 
 dear, I want you to walk with me." 
 
 ♦•' Say you are engaged with the Marchioness," whispered Vidian 
 with a low but distinct voice; his eyes fixed oa the table, and his 
 lips not appearing to move. 
 
 " Mamma, I am " 
 
 " I want you immediately and particularly, Julia," cried Lady 
 Louisa, with an earnest voice. 
 
 " I am coming, I am coming. You see I must go." 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 ** Confusion on that old hag ! Her eye looked evil on me, at 
 the very moment ! Although a pretty wife is really the destruc- 
 tion of a young man's prospects, still, in the present case, the 
 niece of my friend, my patron — high family — perfectly unexcep- 
 tionable, &c. &c. &c. Such blue eyes! upon my honour, this 
 must be an exception to the general rule." Here a light step 
 attracted his attention, and, on turning round, he found Mrs. Felix 
 Lorraine at his elbow. 
 
 " Oh ! you are here, Mr. Grey, acting the solitaire in the 
 park ! I want your opinion about a passage in ' Herman and 
 Dorothea.'" 
 
 " My opinion is always at your service ; but, if the passage is 
 not perfectly clear to jNIrs. Felix Lorraine, it wiU be perfectly 
 obscure, I am convinced, to me." 
 
 "Ah! yes, of course. Oh, dear! after all my trouble, I have 
 forgotten my book. How mortifying! Well, I will show it you 
 after dinner: adieu 1— and, by-the-bye, Mr. Grey, as I am here, I 
 may as well advise you not to spoil all the Marquess' timber, by 
 carving a certain person's name on his park trees. I think your 
 plans in that quarter are admirable. I have been walking with 
 Lady Louisa the whole morning, and you cannot think how I 
 
52 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 puffed you ! Courage, Cavalier, and we shall soon be connected, 
 not only in friendship, but in blood." 
 
 The next morning at breakfast, Vivian was surprised to find 
 that the Manvers party was suddenly about to leave the Castle. 
 All were disconsolate at their departure — for there was to be a 
 grand entertainment at Chateau Desir that very day — but particu- 
 larly Mi's. Felix Lorraine, and Mr. Vivian Grey. The sudden 
 departure was accounted for by the arrival of " unexpected," &c. 
 &c. &c. There was no hope, — the green post-chariot was at the 
 door, a feeble promise of a speedy return ; Julia's eyes were filled 
 with tears. Vivian was springing forward to press her hand, and 
 bear her to the carriage, when Mrs. Felix Lorraine, seized his arm, 
 vowed she was going to faint, and, ere she could recover herself, 
 or loosen her grasp, the IVIanvers — were gone. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The gloom which the parting had diffused over all countenances 
 "was quite dispelled when the Marquess entered. 
 
 " Lady Carabas," said he, " you must prepare for many visitors 
 to-day. There are the Amershams, and Lord Alhambra, • and 
 Ernest Clay, and twenty other young heroes, who, duly informed 
 that the Miss Courtowns were honouring us with their presence, 
 are pouring in from all quarters; is it not so, Juliana?" gallantly 
 asked the Marquess of Miss Courtown : " but who do you think 
 is coming besides?" 
 
 "Who, who?" exclaimed all. 
 
 " Nay, you shall guess," said the Peer. 
 
 "The Duke of Waterloo?" guessed Cynthia Courtown, the 
 romp. 
 
 " Prince Hungary ? " asked her sister Laura. 
 
 "Is it a gentleman?" asked Mrs. Felix Lorraine. 
 
 " No, no, you are all wrong, and all very stupid. It is Mrs. 
 Million." 
 
 " Oh, how delightful ! " said Cynthia. 
 
 " Oh, how annoying ! " said the Marchioness. 
 
 " You need not look so agitated, my love," said the Marquess ; 
 "I have Avritten to ]\Irs. Million, to say that we shall be most 
 happy to see her ; but as the Castle is very full, she' must not come 
 with five carriages-and-foiu", as she did last year." 
 
 "And will Mrs. Million dine with us in the Hall, Marquess?" 
 asked Cynthia Courtown. 
 
 " Mrs. Million will do what she likes ; I only know that I shall 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 63 
 
 dine in the Hall, whatever happens, and whoever comes; and so, I 
 suppose, will Miss Cynthia Courtown?" 
 
 Vivian rode out alone, immediately after breakfast, to cure his 
 melancholy by a gallop. 
 
 Returning home, he intended to look in at a pretty farmhouse, 
 where lived one John Conyers, a great friend of Vivian's. This 
 man had, about a fortnight ago, been of essential service to our 
 hero, when a vicious horse, which he was endeavouring to cure of 
 some ugly tricks, liad nearly terminated his mortal career. 
 
 "Why are you crying so, my boy?" asked Vivian of a little 
 Conyers, who was sobbing bitterly at the door. He was answered 
 only with desperate sobs. 
 
 " Oh, 'tis your honour," said a decent-looking woman, who 
 came out of the house ; " I thought they had come back 
 again." 
 
 " Come back again! why, what is the matter, dame?" 
 
 " Oh ! your honour, we're in sad distress ; there's been a 
 seizure this morning, and I'm mortal fear'd the good man's beside 
 himself." 
 
 " Good heavens! why did not you come to the Castle?" 
 
 "Oh! your honour, we a'nt his Lordship's tenants no longer ; 
 there's been a change for Purley Mill, and now Ave're Lord 
 Mounteney's people. John Conyers has been behind-hand ever 
 since he had the fever, but Mr. Sedgwick always gave time : but 
 Lord Mounteney's gem'man says the system's bad, and so he'll put 
 an end to it ; and so all's gone, your honour ; all's gone, and I'm 
 mortal fear'd the good man's beside himself." 
 
 "And who is Lord Mounteney's man of business?" 
 
 " Mr. Stapylton Toad," sobbed the good dame. 
 
 " Here, boy, leave off crying, and hold my horse ; keep your 
 hold tight, but give him rein, he'll be quiet enough then. I will 
 see honest John, dame." 
 
 " I'm sure your honour's very kind, but I'm mortal feared the 
 good man's beside himself, and he's apt to do very violent things 
 when the fit's on him. He hasn't been so bad since young Barton . 
 behaved so wickedly to his sister." 
 
 " Never mind ! there is nothing like a friend's face in the hour 
 of sorrow." 
 
 " I wouldn't advise your honour," said the good dame. " It's an 
 awful hour when the fit's on him ; he knows not friend or foe, and 
 scarcely knows me, your honour," 
 
 " Never mind, I'll see him." 
 
 Vivian entered the house ; but who shall describe the scene of 
 desolation ! The room was entirely stripped ; there was nothing 
 left, save the bare white-washed walls, and the red tiled flooring. 
 
54 VIVTAN GEEY. 
 
 The room was darkened ; and seated on an old block of v/ood, 
 "wliicli had been pulled out of the orchard, since the bailiff had 
 left, was John Conyers. The fire was out, but his feet were still 
 among the ashes. His head was buried in his hands, and bowed down 
 nearly to his knees. The eldest girl, a fine sensible child of about 
 thirteen, was sitting with two brothers on the floor in a corner of 
 the room, motionless, their faces grave, and still as death, but 
 tearless. Three young children, of an age too tender to know 
 grief, were acting unmeaning gambols near the door. 
 
 "Oh! pray beware, your honour," earnestly whispered the poor 
 dame, as she entered the cottage with the visitor. 
 
 Vivian walked up with a silent step to the end of the room, where 
 Conyers was sitting. He remembered this little room, when he 
 thought it the very model of the abode of an English husbandman. 
 The neat row of plates, and the well-scoured utensils, and the fine 
 old Dutch clock, and the ancient and amusing ballad, purchased 
 at some neighbouring fair, or of some itinerant bibliopole, and 
 pinned against the wall — all were gone ! 
 
 "Conyers!" exclaimed Vivian. 
 
 There was no answer, nor did the miserable man appear in the 
 slightest degree to be sensible of Vivian's presence. 
 
 "My good John!" 
 
 The man raised his head from his resting place, and turned to 
 the spot whence the voice proceeded. There was such an un- 
 natural fire in his eyes, that Vivian's spirit almost quailed. His 
 alarm was not decreased, when he perceived that the master of the 
 cottage did not recognise him. The fearful stare was, howe\ er, 
 short, and again the suiferer's face was hid. 
 
 The wife was advancing, but Vivian waved his hand to her to 
 withdraw, and she accordingly fell into the background ; but her 
 fixed eye did not leave her husband for a second. 
 
 " John Conyers, it is your friend, Mr. Vivian Grey, who is here,'* 
 said Vivian. 
 
 " Grey ! " moaned the husbandman, " Grey ! who is he ?" 
 
 "Your friend, John Conyers. Do you quite forget me?" said 
 Vivian advancing-, and with a tone which Vivian Grey could alone 
 assume. 
 
 " I think I have seen you, and you were kind," and the face was 
 agaui hid. 
 
 " And always will be kind, John. I have come to comfort you. 
 I thought that a friend's voice would do you good. Come, cheer 
 up, my man ! " and Vivian dared to touch him. His hand was not 
 repulsed. "Do you remember what good service you did me when 
 I rode white-footed Moll ? Why, I was much worse off then than 
 you are now ; and yet, you see, a friend came and saved me. You 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 55 
 
 must not give way so, my good fellow. After all, a little manage- 
 ment will set everything right," and he took the husbandman's 
 sturdy hand. 
 
 " I do remember you," he fiiintly cried. " You were always 
 very kind."' 
 
 "And always will be, John; always to friends like you. Come, 
 come, cheer up and look about you, and let the sunbeam enter 
 your cottage." and Vivian beckoned to the wife to open the 
 closed shutter. 
 
 Conyers stared ai'ound him, but his eye rested only on bare 
 walls, and the big tear coursed down his hardy check. 
 
 " Nay, never mind, man !" said Vivian, "we'll soon have chairs 
 and tables again. And as for the rent, think no more about that 
 at present." 
 
 The husbandmaTi looked up, and then burst into weeping. 
 Vivian could scarcely hold down his convulsed frame on the rugged 
 seat ; but the wife advanced from the back of the room, and her 
 husband's head rested against her bosom. Vivian held his 
 honest hand, and the eldest girl rose unbidden from her silent 
 sorrow, and clung to her father's knee. 
 
 " The lit is over," whispered the wife. " There, there, there's 
 a man, all is now well ;" and Vivian left him resting on his wife's 
 bosom. 
 
 " Here, you curly-headed rascal, scamper down to the village 
 immediately, and bring up a basket of something to eat ; and tell 
 Morgan Price, that Mr. Grey says he is to send up a couple of 
 beds, and some chairs here immediately, and some plates and 
 dishes, and everything else, and don't forget some ale;" so saying, 
 Vivian flung the urchin a sovereign. 
 
 "And now, dame, for Heaven's sake, light the fire. As for 
 the rent, John, do not waste this trifle on that," whispered Vivian, 
 slipping his purse into his hand, "for I will see Stapylton Toad, 
 and get time. "Why, woman, you'll never strike a light, if your 
 tears drop so fast into the tinder-box. Here, give it me. You 
 are not fit to work to-day. And how is the trout in RavelyMead, 
 John, this hot weather ? You know you never kept your promise 
 with me. Oh ! you are a sad fellow ! There ! there's a spark ! 
 I wonder why old Toad did not take the tinder-box. It is a very 
 valuable piece of property, at least to us. Run and get me some 
 wood, that's a good boy. And so white-footed Moll is past all 
 recovery ? Well, she was a pretty creature ! There, that will do 
 famously," said Vivian, fanning the flame with his hat. " See, it 
 mounts well ! And now, God bless you all ! for I am an hour too 
 late, and must scamper for my very life." 
 
56 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Mrs. IMiLLioN arrived, and kept her promise ; only three car- 
 riages-aud-four ! Out of tlie first descended the niig-hty lady her- 
 self, "with some noble friends, who formed the most distinguished 
 part of her suite : out of the second came her physician, Dr. Sly; 
 her toad-eater, Miss Gusset ; her secretary, and her page. The 
 third carriage bore her groom of the chambers, and three female 
 attendants. There were only two men servants to each equipage ; 
 nothing could be more moderate, or, as Miss Gusset said, "in 
 better taste." 
 
 Mrs. Million, after having granted the Marquess a private inter- 
 view in her private apartments, signified her imperial intention of 
 dining in public, which, as she had arrived late, she trusted she 
 might do in her travelling dress. The Marquess kotooed like a 
 first-rate mandarin, and vowed " that her will was his conduct." 
 
 The whole suite of apartments was thrown open ; and was 
 crowded with guests. Mrs. Million entered ; she was leaning on 
 the Mai'quess' arm, and in a travelling dress, namely, a. crimson 
 silk pelisse, hat and feathers, with diamond ear-rings, and a rope 
 of gold round her neck. A train of about twelve persons, con- 
 sisting of her noble fellow-travellers, toad-eaters, physicians, 
 secretaries, &c. &c. &c., followed. The entree of her Majesty 
 could not have created a greater sensation, than did that of Mrs. 
 Million. All fell back. Gartered peers, and starred ambassadors, 
 and baronets with blood older than the creation, and squires, to 
 the antiquity of whose veins chaos was a novelty ; all retreated, 
 with eyes that scarcely dared to leave the ground — even Sir Plan- 
 tagenet Pure, whose family had refused a peerage regularly every 
 century, now, for the first time in his life, seemed cowed, and in 
 an awkward retreat to make way for the approaching presence, 
 got entangled with the Mameluke boots of my Lord Alhambra. 
 
 At last, a sofa was gained, and the great lady was seated, and 
 the sensation having somewhat subsided, conversation was re- 
 sumed; and the mighty Mrs. Million was not slightly abused, 
 particularly by those who had bowed lowest at her entree ; and 
 now the Marquess of Carabas, as was wittily observed by ]\Ir. 
 Septimus Sessions, a pert young barrister, " went the circuit," 
 that is to say, made the grand tour of the Suite of apartments, 
 making remarks to every one of his guests, and keeping up his 
 influence in the county. 
 
 " Ah, my Lord Alhambra ! this is too kind ; and how is your ex- 
 cellent father, and my good friend ?— Sir Plantagenet, yours most 
 sincerely ; we shall have no difficulty about that right of common. 
 
VIVIAN GBET. 57 
 
 — Mr. Leverton, I hope you find the new plough work well — your 
 son, sir, will do the county honour. — Sir Godfrey, I saw Barton 
 upon that point, as I promised. — Lady Julia, I am rejoiced to see 
 ye at Chateau Desir, more blooming than ever! — Good Mr. 
 Stapylton Toad, so that little change was eiFected! — ^My Lord 
 Devildrain, this is a pleasure indeed ! " 
 
 " Why, Ernest Clay,'" said ^Ir. Buckhurst Stanhope, " I thought 
 Alhambra wore a turban — I am quite disappointed." 
 
 " Not in the country, Stanhope ; here, he only sits cross-legged 
 on an ottoman, and carves his venison with an ataghan." 
 
 " Well, I am glad he does not wear a turban — tliat would be 
 bad taste, I think," said Fool Stanhope. "Have you read his 
 poem ? " 
 
 " A little. He sent me a copy, and as I am in the habit of 
 lighting my pipe or so occasionally with a leaf, why I cannot help 
 occasionally seeing a line — it seems quite first-rate." 
 
 " Indeed !" said Fool Stanhope, "I must get it." 
 
 "My dear Puff! I am quite glad to find you here," said 
 Mr, Cayenne, a celebrated reviewer, to Mr. Partenopex Puff, a 
 small author and smaller wit. "Have you seen Middle Ages 
 lately?" 
 
 " Not very lately," drawled Mr. Partenopex. " I breakfasted 
 with him before I left town, and met a Professor Bopp there, a very 
 interesting man, and Principal of the celebrated University of 
 Heligoland, the model of the London." 
 
 " Ah ! indeed ! talking of the London, is Foaming Fudge to 
 come in for Cloudland ? " 
 
 " Doubtless ! Oh ! he is a prodigious fellow ! What do you 
 think Booby says ? He says, that Foaming Fudge can do more 
 than any man in Great Britain : that he had one day to plead in the 
 King's Bench, spout at a tavern, speak in the House, and fight 
 a duel — and that he found time for everything but the last." 
 
 " Excellent I " laughed Mr. Cayenne. 
 
 Mr. Partenopex Puff was reputed in a certain set, a sayer of 
 good things, but he was a modest wit, and generally fathered his 
 bon mots on his valet Booby, his monkey, or his parrot. 
 
 " I saw you in the last number," said Cayenne. " From the 
 quotations from your o^vn works, I imagine the review of your 
 own book was by yourself?" 
 
 " What do you think Booby said ? " 
 
 " INIr. Puff, allow me to introduce you to Lord Alhambra," said 
 Ernest Clay, by which means Sir. Puff's servant's last good thing 
 was lost. 
 
 " Mr. Clay, are you an archer?" asked Cynthia Courtown. 
 
 " No, fair Dian ; but I can act Endymion." 
 
58 VIVIAN GKEY. 
 
 " I don't know what you mean — go away." 
 
 " Aubrey Vere, welcome to shire. Have you seen Prima 
 
 Donna?" 
 
 "No, is he here? How did you like his last son^ in the 
 Age?" 
 
 " His last song ! Pooh! pooh! he only supplies the scandal."' 
 
 " Groves," said Sir Hanway Etherington, " have you seen the 
 newspaper this morning ? Baron Crupper has tried fifteen men 
 for horse-stealing at York, and acquitted every one." 
 
 " Well then, Sir Hanway, I think his Lordship's remarkable 
 wrong ; for when a man gets a horse to suit him, if he loses 
 it, 'tisn't so easy to suit himself again. That's the ground I 
 stand upon." 
 
 All this time the Marquess of Carabas had wanted Vivian Grey 
 twenty times, but that gentleman had not appeared. The 
 important moment arrived, and his Lordship offered his arm to 
 Mrs. Million, who, as the Gotha Almanack says, "takes pre- 
 cedence of all Archduchesses, Grand Duchesses, Duchesses, 
 Princesses, Landgravines, Margravines, Palsgravines, &c. &c. &c." 
 
 ciMPTER xm., 
 
 In their passage to the Hall, the Marquess and Mrs. Million met 
 Vivian Grey, booted and spurred, and covered with mud. 
 
 " Oh ! — Mrs. Million — Mr. Vivian Grey. How is this, ray dear 
 fellow? you will be too late." 
 
 " Immense honour ! " said Vivian, bowing to the ground to the 
 lady. " Oh I my Lord, I was late, and made a sliort cut over 
 Fearnley Bog. It has proved a very Moscow e.xpedition. However 
 I am keeping you. I shall be in time for the guava and liqueurs, 
 and you know that is the only refreshment I ever take." 
 
 " Who is that. Marquess?" asked Mrs. Million. 
 
 " That is Mr. Vivian Grey, the most monstrous clever young 
 man, and nicest fellow I know." 
 
 " He does, indeed, seem a very nice young man," said Mrs. 
 Million. 
 
 Some steam process should be invented for arranging guests 
 when they are above five hundred. In the present instance all 
 went wrong when they entered the Hall ; but, at last, the arrange- 
 ments, which, of course, were of the simjilest nature, were compre- 
 hended, and the gxicsts were seated. There were three tables, 
 each stretcliing down tlie Hall ; the Dais was occu])ic'd by a mili- 
 tary band. The number of guests, the contrast between the an- 
 tique chamber, and their modern costumes, the music, the various 
 
VIVIAN GRF.T. 59 
 
 liveried menials, all combined to produce a whole, which at the 
 same time was very striking-, and " m remarkable good taste." 
 
 In process of time, Sir. Vivian Grey made his entrance. There 
 were a few vacant seats at the bottom of the table, " luckily for 
 him," as kindly remarked ^Ir. Grumbletou. To the astonishment 
 and indignation, however, of this worthy squire, the late comer 
 passed by the unoccupied position, and proceeded onward with the 
 most undaunted coolness, until he came to about the middle of the 
 middle table, and which was nearly the best situation in the Hall. 
 
 " Beautiful Cynthia," said Vivian Grey, softly and sweetly whis- 
 pering in Miss Courtown's ear, " 1 am sure you will give up your 
 place to me ; you have nerve enough, you know, for anything, and 
 would no more care for standing out, than I for sitting in." There 
 is nothing like giving a romp credit for a little boldness. To keep 
 up her character, she will out-herod Herod. 
 
 " Oh ! Grey, is it you ? certainly, you shall have my place imme- 
 diately — but I am not sure that we cannot make room for you. 
 Dormer Stanhope, room must be made for Grey, or I shall leave 
 the table immediately ; — you men ! " said the hoyden, turning- 
 round to a set of surrounding servants, " push this form down, and 
 put a chair between." 
 
 The men obeyed. AJl who sat lower in the table on Miss 
 Cynthia Courtown's side thau that lady, were suddenly propelled 
 downwards about the distance of two feet. Dr. Sly, who was 
 flourishing a carving-knife and fork, preparatory to dissecting a 
 gorgeous haunch, had these fearful instruments suddenly preci- 
 pitated into a trifle, from whose sugared ti'ellis-work he found 
 gi'eat difficulty in extricating- them ; while Miss Gusset, who was 
 on the point of cooling herself with some exquisite iced jelly, found 
 her frigid portion as suddenly transformed into a plate of pecu- 
 liarly ardent curry, the property, but a moment before, of old 
 Colonel Rangoon. Everything, however, receives a cvnl recep- 
 tion from a toad-eater, so Miss Gusset burnt herself to death by 
 devouring a composition, which would have reduced any one to> 
 ashes who had not fought against Bundoolah, 
 
 " Now, that is what I call a very sensible arrang-ement ; — what 
 could go off" better ? " said Viviau. 
 
 " You may think so, sir," said Mr. Boreall, a sharp-nosed and 
 conceited-looking man, who, having got among a set whom he did 
 not the least understand, was determined to take up Dr. Sly's 
 quarrel, merely for the sake of conversation. " You, I say, sir^ 
 may think it so, but I rather imagine that the ladies and gentlemen 
 lower down, can hardly think it a very sensible arrangement ;" and 
 here Boreall looked as if he had done his duty, in giving a young 
 man a proper reproof. 
 
GO VIVIAN GP.E7. 
 
 Vivian glanced a look of annihilation. " I had reckoned upon 
 two deaths, sir, when I entered the Hall, and finding, as I do, that 
 the whole business has apparently gone off without any fatal acci- 
 dent, why, I think the circumstances bear me out in my expres- 
 sion." 
 
 Mr. Boreall was one of those unfortunate men who always take 
 things to the letter : he consequently looked amazed, and ex- 
 claimed, " Two deaths, sir ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, two deaths ; I reckoned, of course, on some corpulent 
 parent being crushed to death in the scuffle, and then I should 
 have had to shoot his son through the head for his filial satis- 
 faction. Dormer Stanhope, I never thanked you for exerting 
 yourself: send me that fricandeau you have just helped your- 
 self to." 
 
 Dormer, who was, as Vivian well knew, something of an epicure, 
 looked rather annoyed, but by this time he was accustomed to 
 Vivian Grey, and sent him the portion he had intended for himself 
 — could epicure do more ? 
 
 " Whom are we among, bright Cynthia ? " asked Vivian; 
 
 " Oh ! an odd set," said the lady, looking dignified ; " but you 
 know we can be exclusive." 
 
 "Exclusive! pooh! trash! — talk to everybody — it looks as if you 
 were going to stand for the county. Have we any of the mil- 
 lionaires near us ? " 
 
 " The Doctor and Toadey are lower down," 
 
 " Where is Mrs. Felix Lorraine ? " 
 
 " At the opposite table, with Ernest Clay." 
 
 "Oh! there is Alhambra, next to Dormer Stanhope. Lord 
 Alhambra, I am quite rejoiced to see you." 
 
 " Ah ! ]\Ir. Grey — I am quite rejoiced to see you. How is your 
 father?" 
 
 " Extremely well — he is at Paris — I heard from him yes- 
 terday. Do you ever see the Weimar Literary Gazette, my 
 Lord?" 
 
 "No;— why?" 
 
 *' There is a most admirable review of your poem, in the last 
 number I have received." 
 
 The young nobleman looked agitated. " I think, by the style," 
 continued Vivian, " that it is by Goethe. It is really delightful to 
 see the oldest poet in Europe dilating on the brilliancy of a new 
 star in the poetical horizon." 
 
 This was uttered with a perfectly grave voice, and now the young 
 nobleman blushed — " Who is Gcwtcrf" asked Mr. Boreall, who 
 possessed such a thirst for knowledge, that he never allowed an 
 opportunity to escape him of displaying his ignorance. 
 
VIVIAN CliiiY. 61 
 
 " A celebrated German writer," lisped the modest Miss Mac- 
 donald. 
 
 " I never heard his name," persevered the indefatigable Boreal! ; 
 — " how do you spell it ? " 
 
 " G O E T H E," relisped modesty. 
 
 " Oh ! Goty ! " exclaimed the querist — " I know him well : he 
 wrote the Sorrows of AVerter." 
 
 " Did he indeed, sir ? " asked Vivian, with the most innocent 
 and inquiring face. 
 
 "Oh! don't you know that ? " said Boreall; — "and poor stud" 
 it is!" 
 
 " Lord Alhambra ! I will take a glass of Johannisberg with yon, 
 if the ^Marquess' wines are in the state they should be — 
 
 ' The Crescent warriors sipped their sherbet spiced. 
 For Christian men the various wines were iced.' 
 
 I always think that those are two of the best lines in your Lord- 
 ship's poem," said Vivian. 
 
 His Lordship did not exactly remember them : it would have 
 been a wonder if he had : — but he thought Vivian Grey the most 
 delightful feUow he ever met, and determined to ask him to Heli- 
 con Castle, for the Christmas holidays. 
 
 " Flat ! flat ! " said Vivian, as he dwelt upon the flavour of the 
 Rhine's glory. " Not exactly from the favourite binn.of Prince 
 IMetternich, I think. By-the-bye, Dormer Stanhope, you have a 
 taste that way ; I will tell you two secrets, which never forget : 
 decant your Johannisberg, and ice your Maraschino. Ay, do not 
 stare, my dear Gastronome, but do it." 
 
 " Oh, Vivian ! why did not you come and speak to me ? " ex- 
 claimed a lady who was sitting at the side opposite Vivian, but 
 higher in the table. 
 
 " Ah ! adorable Lady Julia ! and so you were done on the grey 
 
 filly." 
 
 " Done ! " said the sporting beauty with pouting lips ; — " but it 
 is a long story, and I will tell it you another time." 
 
 " Ah ! do. How is Sir Peter ? " 
 
 " Oh ! he has had a fit or two, since you saw him last." 
 
 " Poor old gentleman ! let us drink his liealth. Do yon 
 know Lady Julia Knighton?" asked Vivian of his neighbour. 
 " This Hall is bearable to dine in ; but I once breakfasted here, 
 and I never shall forget the ludicrous effect produced by the 
 sun through the oriel window. Such complexions ! Every one 
 looked like a prize-fighter ten days after a battle. After all, 
 painted glass is a bore ; I wish the Marquess would have it knocked 
 out, and have it plated." 
 
6i2 V1V[AN GRET. 
 
 " Knock out the painted glass ! " said Sir. Boreall ; " well, I must 
 confess I cannot agree with you." 
 
 " I should have been extremely surprised if you could. If you 
 do not insult that mau, Miss Courtown, in ten minutes I shall be 
 no more. I have already a nervous fever." 
 
 " May I have the honour of taking a glass of champagne with 
 you, Mr. Grey?" said Boreall. 
 
 " Mr. Grey, indeed ! " muttered Vivian : " Sir, I never drink 
 anything but brandy." 
 
 " Allow me to give you some champagne. Miss," resumed Bore- 
 all, as he attacked the modest Miss Macdonald ; " champagne, 
 you know," continued he, with a smile of agonising courtesy, " is 
 quite the lady's wine." 
 
 " Cynthia Courtown," whispered Vivian with a sepulchral voice, 
 " 'tis all over with me — I have been thinking what Avould come 
 next. This is too much — I am already dead — have Boreall ar- 
 rested ; the chain of circumstantial evidence is very strong." 
 
 " Baker ! " said Vivian, turning to a servant, " go and inquire 
 if Mr. Stapylton Toad dines at the Castle to-day." 
 
 A flourish of trumpets announced the rise of the Marchioness of 
 Carabas, and in a few minutes the most ornamental portion of the 
 guests had disappeared. The geutlemen made a general " move 
 up," and Vivian found himself opposite his friend, Mr. Mar- 
 grave. 
 
 " Ah ! Mr. Hargrave, how d'ye do ? What do you think of the 
 Secretary's state paper?" 
 
 " A magnificent composition, and quite unanswerable. I was 
 just speaking of it to my friend here, Mr. ^letternich Scribe. 
 Allow me to introduce you to — Mi\ Metteruich Scribe." 
 
 " Mr. Metteruich Scribe — Mr. Vivian Grey ! " and here Mr. 
 Hargrave introduced Vivian to an efleminate-looking, perfumed, 
 young man, with a handsome, unmeaning face, and very white 
 hands. In short, as dapper a little diplomatist as ever tattled about 
 the Congress of Verona, smirked at Lady Almack's supper after 
 the Opera, or vowed " that Richmond Terrace was a most conve- 
 nient situation for official men." 
 
 " We have had it with us some time before the public received 
 it," said the future under-secretary, witli a look at once conde- 
 scending, and conceited. 
 
 "Have you?" .said Vivian: "well, it docs your office credit. 
 It is a singular thing, that Canning and Croker are the only 
 official men who can write grammar." 
 
 The dismayed young gentleman of the Foreign Office was about 
 to mince a repartee, when Vivian left his seat, for lie had a great 
 deal of business to transact. " Mr. Leverton," said he, accosting 
 
VIVIAN GKE1. 60 
 
 a flourishing grazier, " I have received a letter from my friend, 
 M. De Noe. He is desirous of purchasing some Leicestershires 
 for his estate hi Burgundy. Pray, may I take the liberty of intro- 
 ducing his agent to you ? " 
 
 Mr. Leverton was delighted. 
 
 *' I also wanted to see you about some other little business. 
 Let me see, what was it ? Never mind, I will take my wine here, 
 if you can make room for me ; I shall remember it, I dare say, 
 soon. Oh ! by-the-bye — ah ! that was it. Stapylton Toad — Mr. 
 Stapylton Toad ; I want to know all about Mr. Stapylton Toad — 
 I dare say you can tell me. A friend of mine intends to consult 
 him on some parliamentary business, and he wishes to kiiow some- 
 thing about him before he calls." 
 
 We will condense, for the benefit of the reader, the information 
 of Mr. Leverton. 
 
 Stapylton Toad had not the honour of being acquainted with 
 his father's name ; but as the son found himself, at an early age, 
 apprenticed to a solicitor of eminence, he was of opinion that his 
 parent must have been respectable. Respectable! mysterious 
 word! Stapylton was a very diligent and faithful clerk, but was 
 not so fortunate in his apprenticeship as the celebrated Whitting- 
 ton, for his master had no daughter, and many sons ; in conse- 
 quence of which, Stapylton, not being able to become his master's 
 partner, became his master's rival. 
 
 On the door of one of tlie shabbiest houses in Jermyn Street, the 
 name of Mr. Stapylton Toad for a long time figured, magnifi- 
 cently engraved on a broad brass plate. There was nothing, 
 however, otherwise, in the appearance of the establishment, 
 which indicated that Mr. Toad's progress was very rapid, or 
 his professional career extraordinarOy prosperous. In an out- 
 ward office one solitary clerk was seen, oftener stirring his office 
 fire, than wasting his master's ink ; and Mr. Toad was known by 
 his brother attorneys, as a gentleman who was not recorded in 
 the courts as ever haWng conducted a single cause. In a few 
 years, however, a story was added to the Jermyn Street abode, 
 which, new pointed, and new painted, began to assume a most man- 
 sion-like appearance. The house-door was also thrown open, for 
 the solitary clerk no longer found time to answer the often agi- 
 tated bell ; and the eyes of the entering client were now saluted 
 by a gorgeous green baize office door ; the imposing appearance 
 of which was only equalled by Mr. Toad's new private portal, 
 splendid with a brass knocker, and patent varnish. And now his 
 brother attorneys began to wonder " how Toad got on ! and who 
 Toad's clients were." 
 
 A few more years rolled over, and r\Ir. Toad was seen riding in 
 
Ci VIVIAN GTiET. 
 
 the Park at a most classical hour, attended by a groom in a most 
 classical livery. And now " the profession" wondered still more, 
 and significant looks were interchanged by " the respectable 
 houses ; " and flourishing practitioners in the City shrugged up 
 their shoulders, and talked mysteriously of " money business," 
 and " some odd Avork in annuities." In spite, however, of the 
 charitable surmises of his brother lawyers, it must be confessed, 
 that nothing of even an equivocal nature ever transpired against 
 the character of the flourishing Mr. Toad ; who, to complete the 
 mortification of his less successful rivals, married, and at the same 
 time moved from Jermyn Street to Cavendish Square. The new 
 residence of Mr. Toad had previously been the mansion of a noble 
 client, and one whom, as the world said, j\Ir. Toad " had got out 
 of difiiculties." This significant phrase will probably throw some 
 light upon the nature of the mysterious business of our prosperous 
 practitioner. Noble Lords who have been in difiiculties, will not 
 much wonder at the prosperity of those who get them out. 
 
 About this time Mr. Toad became acquainted with Lord 
 Mounteney, a nobleman in great distress, with fifty thousand per 
 annum. His Lordship " really did not know how he had got in- 
 volved : he never gamed, he was not married, and his consequent 
 expenses had never been unreasonable ; he was not extraordina- 
 rily negligent — quite the reverse, Avas something of a man of busi- 
 ness, remembered once looking over his accounts; and yet, iu 
 spite of his regular and correct career, found himself quite in- 
 volved, and must leave England." 
 
 The arrangement of the Mounteney property was the crowning 
 stroke of Mr. Stapylton Toad's professional celebrity. His Lord- 
 ship was not under the necessity of quitting England : and found 
 himself, in the course of five years, in the receipt of a clear rental 
 of five-and-twenty thousand per annum. His Lordship was in 
 raptures : and Stap^'lton Toad purchased an elegant villa in 
 Surrey, and became a Member of Parliament. Goodburn Park, 
 for such was the name of Mr. Toad's country residence, in spite 
 of its double lodges, and patent park paling, was not, to Mr. 
 Toad, a very expensive purchase ; for he " took it off" the hands" 
 of a distressed client, who wanted an immediate supply, " merely 
 to convenience him," and, consequently, became the purchaser at 
 about half its real value. " Attorneys," as Bustle the auctioneer 
 says, " have such opportunities!" 
 
 Mr. Toad's career in the House w.as as correct as his conduct 
 out of it. After ten years regular attendance, the boldest con- 
 jecturer would not have dared to define his political principles. 
 It was a rule with Stapylton Toad never to commit himself. 
 Once, indeed, he wrote an able piuiiphlet ou the Corn Laws, which 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 65 
 
 excited the dire indignation of the Political Economy Club. But 
 Stapyltou cared little for their subtle confutations and their loudly- 
 expressed contempt. He had obliged the country gentlemen of 
 England, and ensured the return, at the next election, of Lord 
 Mounteuey's brother for the county. At this general election, also, 
 Stapylton Toad's purpose in entering the House became rather 
 moi'e manifest ; for it was found, to the surprise of the whole 
 country, that there was scarcely a place in England — county, 
 town, or borough — in which Mr. Stapylton Toad did not possess 
 some influence. In short, it was discovered, that Mr. Stapylton 
 Toad had "a first rate parliamentary business;" that nothing 
 could be done without his co-operation, and everything with it. 
 In spite of his prosperity, Stapylton had the good sense never to 
 retire from business, and even to refuse a baronetcy — on condition, 
 however, that it should be ofiered to his son. 
 
 Stapylton, like the rest of mankind, had his weak points. The 
 late Marquess of Almacks was wont to manage him very happily, 
 and Toad was always introducing that minister's opinion of his 
 importance. '' ' jNIy time is quite at your service. General,' al- 
 though the poor dear Marquess used to say, ' Mr. Stapylton Toad, 
 your time is mine' He knew the business 1 had to get through!" 
 The family portraits also, in most ostentatious frames, now adorned 
 the dining-room of his London mansion ; and it was amusing to 
 hear tlie worthy M.P. dilate upon his likeness to his respected 
 father. 
 
 " You see, my Lord," Stapylton would say, pointing to a dark, 
 dingy picture of a gentleman in a rich court dress, " you see, my 
 Lord, it is not in a very good light, and it certainly is a very dark 
 picture — by Hudson ; all Hudson's pictures were dark. But if I 
 were six inches taller, and could hold the light just there, I think 
 your Lordship would be astonished at the resemblance ; but it's a 
 dark picture, certainly it is dark, — all Hudson's pictures were." 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The Cavaliers have left the ancient Hall, and the old pictures 
 frown only upon empty tables. The Marquess immediately gained 
 a seat by Mrs. Z^Iilliou, and was soon engrossed in deep converse 
 with that illustrious lady. In one room, the most eminent and 
 exclusive, headed by Mrs. Felix Lorraine, were now winding- 
 through the soothing mazes of a slow waltz, and now whirling, 
 with all the rapidity of Eastern dervishes, to true double Wien time. 
 In another saloon, the tedious tactics of quadrilles commanded the 
 exertions of less civilised beings : here, Liberal Snake, the cele- 
 
 5 
 
00 VIVIAN GEET. 
 
 brated Political Economist, was lecturing to a knot of alarmed 
 country gentlemen; and there an Italian improvisatore poured 
 forth to an admiring audience all the dulness of his inspiration. 
 Vivian Grey was holding an earnest conversation in one of the 
 recesses with Mr. Stapylton Toad. — He had already charmed that 
 worthy, by the deep interest which he took in everything relating 
 to elections, and the House of Commons, and now they were hard 
 at work on the Corn Laws. Although they agreed upon the main 
 points, and Vivian's ideas upon this important subject had, of 
 course, been adopted after studying Mr. Toad's " most luminous 
 and convincing pamphlet," still there were a few minor points on 
 which Vivian " was obliged to confess," that " he did not exactly 
 see his way." Mr. Toad was astonished, but argumentative, and 
 of course, in due time, had made a couvert of his companion ; " a 
 young man," as he afterwards remarked to Lord Mounteney, "in 
 whom, he knew not which most to admire, the soundness of his 
 own views, or the candour with which he treated those of others." 
 If you wish to win a man's heart, allow him to confute you. 
 
 " I think, Mr. Grey, you must admit, that my definition of la- 
 bour is the correct one ? " said Mr. Toad, looking earnestly in 
 Vivian's face, his finger just presuming to feel a button. 
 
 " That exertion of mind or body, which is not the involuntary 
 effect of the influence of natural sensations," slowly repeated 
 Vivian, as if his whole soul was concentrated in each monosyllable 
 _« Y— e— s, Mr. Toad, I do admit it." 
 
 " Then, my dear sir, the rest follows of course," triumphantly 
 exclaimed the Member, " Dont' you see it?" 
 
 " Although I admit the correctness of your definition, Mr. Toad, 
 
 1 am not free to confess, that I am ex — act — ly convinced of the 
 soundness of your conclusion," said Vivian, in a very musing 
 mood. 
 
 " But, my dear sii", I am surprised that you don't see tliat " 
 
 " Stop, Mr. Toad," eagerly exclaimed Vivian, " I see my error. 
 I misconceived your meaning : you are right, sir, your definition is 
 correct." 
 
 " I was confident that I should convince you, Mr. Grey." 
 
 " This conversation, I assure you, Mr. Toad, has been to me a 
 peculiarly satisfactory one. Indeed, sir, I have long wished to 
 have the honour of making your acquaintance. When but a 
 boy, I remember at my father's table, the late Marquess of 
 Almacks " 
 
 « Yes, Mr. Grey." 
 
 " One of the ablest men, Mr. Toad, after all, that tliis country 
 ever produced." 
 
 " Oh, poor dear man ! " 
 
VIVTAN GREr. 67 
 
 " I remember him obser^-ing- to a frieud of mine, wlio was at that 
 time desirous of getting into the House : — ' Hargrave,' said his 
 Lordship, ' if you want any information upon points of practical 
 politics' — that was his phrase ; you remember, Mr. Toad, that his 
 Lordship was peculiar in his phrases?" 
 
 "Oh! yes, poor dear man; but you were observing, Mr. 
 Grey " 
 
 "Ay, ay! 'If you want any information/ said liis Lordship, 'on 
 such points, there is only one man in the kingdom whom you 
 should consult, and he is one of the soundest heads I know, and 
 that is Stapylton Toad, the member for iilounteney ; ' you know 
 you were in for Mounteney then, Mr. Toad." 
 
 " I was, I was, and accepted the Chilterus to make room for 
 Augustus Clay, Ernest Clay's brother ; who was so involved, that 
 the only way to keep him out of the House of Correction, was 
 to get him into the House of Commons. But the Marquess said 
 so, eh ? " 
 
 "' Ay, and much more, which I scarcely can remember ; " and 
 then followed a long dissertation on tlie character of the noble 
 statesman, and his views as to the agricultural interest, .and the 
 importance of the agricultural interest ; and then a delicate hint 
 was thrown out, as to " how delightful it would be to write a 
 pamphlet together," on this mighty agricultural interest; and 
 then came a panegyric on the character of country gentlemen, 
 and English yeomen, and the importance of keeping up the old 
 English spirit in the peasantry, &c. &c. &c. &e. ; and then, when 
 Vivian had led Mr. Toad to deliver a most splendid and patriotic 
 oration on this point, he "just remembered, (quite apropos to the 
 sentiments which Mr. Toad had just delivered, and which he did 
 not hesitate to say, ' did equal honour to his head and heart,') that 
 there was a little point, which, if it was not trespassing too much 
 on Mr. Toad's attention, he would just submit to him ;"and theute 
 mentioned poor John Conyers' case, although " he felt convinced 
 from ilr. Toad's weU-kuown benevolent character, that it was 
 quite unnecessary for him to do so, as he felt assui'ed that it would 
 be remedied immediately it fell under his cognizance ; but then 
 Mr. Toad had reaUy so much business to transact, that perhaps 
 these slight matters might occasionally not be submitted to him," 
 &c. &c. &c. 
 
 What could Stapylton Toad do but, after a little amiable grum- 
 bling about " bad system, and bad precedent," promise everything 
 that Vivian Grey required ? 
 
 "Mr. Vivian Grey," said Mrs. Felix Lorraine, "I cannot under- 
 stand why you liave been talking to Mr. Toad so long ; will you 
 waltz?" 
 
68 VIVIAN GlIET. 
 
 Before Vivian could answer, a tiltcring-, so audible, that it niiglit 
 almost be termed a shout, burst forth from the whole room. 
 Cynthia Courtown had stolon behind Lord Alhambrn, as he was 
 sitting on an ottoman, a la Turque, and liad folded a cashmere 
 shawl round his head, with a most Oriental tie. His Lordship, 
 who, notwithstanding his eccentricities, was really a very amiable 
 man, bore his blushing lionours with a gracious dignity, worthy 
 of a descendant of the Abencerrages. The sensation which this 
 incident occasioned, favoured Vivian's escape from Mrs. Felix, 
 for he had not left Mr. Stapyltou Toad with any intention of 
 waltzing. 
 
 But he had hardly escaped from the waltzers, ere he found 
 himself in danger of being involved in a much more laborious 
 duty; for now he stumbled on the Political Economist, and he was 
 earnestly requested by the contending theorists, to assume the 
 afiice of moderator. Emboldened by his success. Liberal Suake 
 had had the hardihood to attack a personage of whose character he 
 was not utterly ignoi'ant, but on whom he Avas extremely desirous 
 of " making an impression." This important person was Sir 
 Christopher Mowbray, who, upon the lecturer presuming to inform 
 him " what rent was," damned himself several times from sheer 
 astonishment at the impudence of the fellow. I don't wish to be 
 coarse, but Sir Cliristopher is a great man, and the sayings of great 
 men, particularly when they are representative of the sentiment 
 of a species, should not pass unrecorded. 
 
 Sir Christopher Mowbray is member for the County of ; 
 
 and member for the county he intends to be next election, although 
 he is in his seventy-ninth year, for he can still follow a fox, with as 
 pluck a heart, and with as stout a voice, as any squire in Chris- 
 tendom, Sir Christopher, it must be confessed, is rather peculiar 
 in his ideas. His grandson, Peregrine Mowbray, who is as pert a 
 genius as the applause of a common-room ever yet spoiled, and as 
 sublime an orator as the cheerings of the Union ever yet inspired, 
 says "the Baronet is not up to the nineteenth century;" and 
 perhaps tliis phrase will give the reader a more significant idea of 
 Sir Cliristopher Mowbray, than a character as long, and as 
 laboured, as the most perfect of my Lord Clarendon's. The truth 
 is, the good Baronet had no idea of " liberal principles," or anylhing 
 else of that school. His most peculiar characteristic, is a singular 
 habit which he has got of styling political economists French 
 smugglers. Nobody has ever yet succeeded in extracting a reason 
 from him for this singular a])pellation, and even if you angle with the 
 most exquisite skillfor the desired definition. Sir Christopher imme- 
 diately salutes you with a volley of oaths, and damns French Wines, 
 Bible Societies, and Mr. Huskisson. Sir Christopher for half a 
 
VIVIAN GREY, 69 
 
 century nas supported in the senate, with equal seclulousncss and 
 silence, the constitution and the corn laws ; he is perfectly aware 
 of " the present perilous state of the country," and watches with 
 great interest all " the plans and plots " of this enlightened ag-e. The 
 only thing which he does not exactly comprehend, is the London 
 University. This affair really puzzles the worthy gentleman, who 
 could as easily fancy a county member not being a freeholder, as 
 an University not being at Oxford or Cambridge. Indeed, to this 
 hour the old gentleman believes that the old business is " a hoax;" 
 and if you tell him, that, far from the plan partaking of the 
 visionary nature he conceives, there are actually four acres of 
 very valuable land purchased near White Conduit House for the 
 erection ; and that there is little apprehension, that in the course 
 of a century, the wooden poles which are now stuck about the 
 ground, will not be as fiiir and flourishing as the most leafy 
 bowers of New College Gardens ; the old gentleman looks up to 
 heaven, as if determined not to be taken in, and leaning back in 
 his chair, sends forth a sceptical and smiling " No ! no ! no ! that 
 won't do." 
 
 Vivian extricated himself with as much grace as possible from 
 the toils of the Economist, and indeed, like a skilful general, 
 turned this little rencontre to account, in accomplishing the very 
 end, for the attainment of which he had declined waltzing with 
 Mrs. Felix Lorraine. 
 
 " My dear Lord," said Vivian, addressing the Marquess, who was 
 stOl by the side of Mrs. Million, " I am going to commit a most 
 ungallant act ; but you great men must pay a tax for your dignity. 
 I am going to disturb you. You are wanted by half the county ! 
 What could possibly induce you ever to allow a Political Econo- 
 mist to enter Chateau Desir ? There are, at least, tlu-ee baronets 
 and four squires in despair, writhing under the tortures of Liberal 
 Snake. They have deputed me to request your assistance, to save 
 them from being defeated in the presence of half their tenantry ; 
 and I think, my Lord," said Vivian, with a serious voice, "if you 
 could possibly contrive to interfere, it would be desirable. That 
 lecturing knave never knows when to stop, and he is actually 
 insulting men before whom, after all, he ought not dare to open 
 his lips. I see that your Lordship is naturally not very much 
 inclined to quit your present occupation, in order to act Moderator 
 to a set of brawlers ; but come, you shall not be quite sacrificed to 
 the county, — I will give up the waltz in which I was engaged, 
 and keep your seat until your return." 
 
 The Marquess, who was always " keeping up county influence," 
 was very shocked at the obstreperous conduct of Liberal Snake. 
 Indeed he had viewed the arrival of this worthy with no smiling 
 
70 VIVIAX GREY. 
 
 countenance, but what could he say, as he came in the suit of Lord 
 Pert, who was writing, with the lecturer's assistance, a little 
 pamphlet on the Currency? Apologising to Mrs. Million, and 
 promising to return as soon as possible, and lead her to the music- 
 room, the Marquess retired, with the determination of annihilating 
 one of the stoutest members of the Political Economy Club. 
 
 Vivian began by apologising to Mrs. Million, for disturbing her 
 progress to the Hall, by his sudden arrival before dinner ; and then 
 for a quarter of an hour poured forth the usual quantity of piquant 
 anecdotes, and insidious compliments. Mrs. Million found Vivian's 
 conversation no disagreeable relief to the pompous prosiness of 
 his predecessor. 
 
 And now — having succeeded in commanding Mrs. IMillion's 
 attention by that general art of pleasing, which was for all the 
 world, and which was, of course, formed upon his general experi- 
 ence of human nature — ^Vivian began to make his advances to 
 Mrs. Million's feelings, by a particular art of pleasing ; that is, an 
 art which was for the particular person alone, whom he was at 
 any time addressing, and which was founded on his particular 
 knowledge of that person's character. 
 
 " How beautiful the old Hall looked to-day ! It is a scene 
 which can only be met with in ancient families." 
 
 " Ah ! there is nothing like old families ! " remarked Mrs. 
 Million, with all the awkvrird feelings of a parvenue. 
 
 "Do you think so ? " said Viviau ; "I once thought so myself, 
 but I confess that my opinion is greatly changed. — After all, what 
 is noble blood ? My eye is now resting on a crowd of nobles ; and 
 yet, being among them, do we treat them in a manner diftering 
 in any way from that which we should employ to individuals of a 
 lower caste, who were equally uninteresting?" 
 
 " Certainly not," said Mrs. ilillion. 
 
 "The height of the ambition of the less exalted ranks is to be 
 noble, because they conceive to be noble, implies to be superior; 
 associating in their minds, as tliey always do, a pre-eminence 
 over their equals. But, to be noble, among nobles, where is the 
 pre-eminence ? " 
 
 " Where indeed?" said Mrs. Million ; and she thought of herself, 
 sitting the most considered personage in tliis grand castle, and yet 
 with sufficiently base blood flowing in her veins. 
 
 " And thus, in the highest circles," continued Vivian, " a man 
 is of course not valued because he is a Marquess, or a Duke ; but 
 because he is a great warrior, or a great statesman, or very 
 fashionable, or very witty. In all classes but the highest, a peer, 
 however unbefriendcd by nature or by fortune, becomes a man of 
 a certain rate of consequence; but to be a person of conse- 
 
VIVIAN GIXILY. 71 
 
 quence in tlie highest class, re(pires something- else besides high 
 blood." 
 
 " I quite agree with you in your sentiments, Mr. Grey. Now 
 what character, or what situation in life, would you choose, if you 
 had the power of making your choice ':" 
 
 '• That is really a most metaphysical question. As is the custom 
 of all young men, I have sometimes, in my reveries, imagined what 
 I conceived to be a lot of pure happiness : and yet Mrs. Million 
 will perhaps be astonished that I was neither to be nobly born, 
 nor to acquire nobility; that I was not to be a statesman, or a poet, 
 or a warrior, or a merchant, nor indeed any profession — not even a 
 professional dandy." 
 
 " Oh ! love in a cottage, I suppose," interrupted Mrs. Million. 
 
 " Neither love in a cottage, nor science in a cell." 
 
 " Oh ! pray tell me what it is." 
 
 " What it is ? Oh ! Lord Mayor of London, I suppose ; that 
 is the only situation which answers to my oracular description." 
 
 " Then you have been joking all this time ! " 
 
 " Not at all. 'Come then, let us imagine this perfect lot. In 
 the first place, I would be born in the middle classes of society, 
 or even lower, because I would wish my character to be impartially 
 developed. I would be born to no hereditary prejudices, no 
 hereditary passions. My course in life should not be carved out 
 by the example of a grandfather, nor my ideas modelled to a 
 preconceived system of family perfection. Do you like my first 
 principle, Mrs. Million?" 
 
 '•' I must hear everything- before I give an opinion." 
 
 *' "When, therefore, my mind was formed, I would wish to become 
 the proprietor of a princely fortune." 
 
 "Yes !" eagerly exclaimed Mi-s. Million. 
 
 " And now would come the moral singularity of my fate. If I 
 had gained this fortune by commerce, or in any other similar mode, 
 iny disposition, before the creation of this fortune, would naturally 
 have been formed, and been permanently developed; and my mind 
 would have been similarly alFected, had I succeeded to some ducal 
 father ; for I should then, in all probability, have inherited some 
 family line of conduct, both moral and political ; but under the cir- 
 cumstances I have imagined, the result would be far different. I 
 .should then be in the singular situation of possessing, at the same 
 time, unbounded wealth, and the whole powers and natural feelings 
 of my mind, unoppressed and unshackled. Oh! how splendid 
 would be my career ! 1 would not allow the change in my condi- 
 tion to exercise any influence on my natural disposition. I would 
 experience the same passions, and be subject to the same feelings, 
 only they should be exercised, and influential in a wider sphere. 
 
72 VIVIAN GRKY. 
 
 Then would be seeu the influence of great wealth, directed by a 
 disposition similar to that of the generality of men, inasmuch as it 
 had been formed like that of the genei'ality of men ; and conse- 
 quently, one much better acquainted with their feelings, their 
 habits, and their wishes. Such a lot would indeed be princely ! 
 Such a lot would inftillibly ensure the affection, and respect, of the 
 great majority of mankind ; and, supported by them, what should 
 I care, if I were misunderstood by a few fools, and abused by a few 
 knaves ? " 
 
 Here came the Marquess to lead the lady to the concert. As she 
 quitted her seat, a smile, beaming with graciousness, rewarded her 
 youthful companion. " Ah ! " thought Mrs. Million ; " I go to the 
 concert, but leave sweeter music than can possibly meet me there. 
 What is the magic of these words ? It is not flattery ; such is not 
 the language of Miss Gusset ! It is not a rifacimento of compli- 
 ments ; such is not the style with which I am saluted by the Duke 
 of Doze, and the Earl of Leatherdale ! Apparently I have heard 
 a young philosopher delivering his sentiments upon an abstract 
 point in human life ; and yet have I not listened to a brilliant apo- 
 logy for my own character, and a triumphant defence of my own 
 conduct. Of course it was unintentional, and yet how agreeable 
 to be unintentionally defended ! " So mused Mrs. IN'Iillion, and she 
 made a thousand vows, not to let a day pass over, without obtaining 
 a pledge from Vivian Grey, to visit her on their return to the me- 
 tropolis. 
 
 Vivian remained in his seat for some time after the departure of 
 his companion. " On my honour, I have half a mind to desert my 
 embryo faction, and number myself in her gorgeous retinue. Let 
 me see — what part should I act ? her secretai-y, or her toad-eater, 
 or her physician, or her cook ? or shall I be her page ? Methinks I 
 should make a pretty page, and hand a chased goblet as gracefully 
 as any monkey that ever bent his knee in a lady's chamber. Well ! 
 at any rate, there is this chance to be kept back, as the gambler 
 does his last trump, or the cunning, fencer his last ruse." 
 
 He rose to off'er his arm to some stray fair one ; for crowds were 
 now hurrying to pine apples and lobster salads : that is to say, 
 supper was ready in the Long Gallery. 
 
 In a moment Vivian's arm was locked in that of Mrs. Felix 
 Lorraine. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Grey, I have got a much better ghost story than even 
 that of the Leyden Professor for you ; but I am so wearied with 
 waltzing, that I must tell it you to-morrow. How came you to 
 be so late this morning ? Have you been paying many calls to- 
 day ? I quite missed you at dinner. Do you think Ernest Clay 
 handsome ? I dare not repeat what lady Scrope said of you I 
 
VIVIAN GREY. Id 
 
 You are an admirer of Lady Julia Knighton, I believe ? — I do not 
 much like this plan of supping in the Long Gallery — it is a fa- 
 vourite locale of mine, and I have no idea of my private prome- 
 nade being invaded by the uninteresting presence of trifles and 
 Italian creams. Have you been telling Mrs. Million that she was 
 very witty?" asked Vivian's companion, with a significant look. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Sweet reader ! you know what a Toadey is ? That agreeable 
 animal which you meet every day in civilised society. But per- 
 haps you have not speculated very curiously upon this interesting 
 race. So much the worse ! for you cannot live many lustres, 
 without finding it of some service to be a little acquainted witli 
 their habits. 
 
 The world in general is under a mistake as to the nature of 
 these vermin. Tliey are by no means characterised by that simi- 
 larity of disposition, for which your common observer gives them 
 credit. There are Toadeys of all possible natures. 
 
 There is your Common-place Toadey, who merely echoes its 
 feeder's common-place observations. There is your Playing-up 
 Toadey, who, unconscious to its feeder, is always playing up to its 
 feeder's weaknesses — and, as the taste of that feeder varies, ac- 
 cordingly provides its cates and confitures. A little bit of scandal 
 for a dashing widow, or a pious little hymn for a sainted one ; the 
 secret history of a newly-discovered gas for a May Fair feeder, and 
 an interesting anecdote about a Newgate bobcap, or a Penitentiary 
 apron, for a charitable one. Then there is your Drawing-out 
 Toadey, who omits no opportunity of giving you a chance of being 
 victorious, in an argument where there is no contest, and a dispute 
 
 where tliere is no difterence ; and then there is but we detest 
 
 essay writing, so we introduce you at once to a party of these vermin. 
 If you wish to enjoy a curious sight, you must watch the Toadeys, 
 when they are unembarrassed by tlie almost perpetual presence of 
 their breeders — when they are animated by '•' the spirit of freedom" 
 — when, like Curran's Xegro, the chain bursts by the impulse of 
 their swelling veins. The great singularity is the struggle be- 
 tween their natural and their acquired feelings : the eager oppor- 
 tunity which they seize of revenging their voluntary bondage, by 
 their secret taunts, on tlieir adopted task-masters ; and the ser- 
 vility which they habitually mix up even with their scandal. 
 Like veritable Grimalkins, they fawn upon their victims previous 
 to the festival — compUment them upon the length of their whis- 
 kers, and the delicacy of their limbs, prior to excoriating them. 
 
74 VIVIAN GRET. 
 
 and dwelling on the flavour of their crashed boues. 'Tis a 
 beautiful scene, and ten thousand times more piquant than the 
 humours of a Servants' Hall, or the most gTotesque and glorious 
 moments of high life below stairs. 
 
 " Dear Miss Graves," said Miss Gusset, " you can't imagine 
 how terrified I was at that horrible green parrot flying upon my 
 head ! I declare it pulled out three locks of hair." 
 
 " Horrible green parrot, my dear madam ! why it was sent to my 
 Lady by Prince Xtmnprqtosklw, and never shall I forget the agi- 
 tation we were in about that parrot. I thought it would never have 
 got to the Chateau, for the Prince could only send his carriage ■with 
 it as far as Toadcaster ; luckily my Lady's youngest brother, who 
 was stayiug at Desir, happened to get drowned at the time, — and 
 so Davenport, very clever of him ! sent her on in my Lord Dor- 
 mer's hearse." 
 
 " In the hearse ! Good heavens. Miss Graves! How could you 
 think of green parrots at such an awful moment ! I should have 
 been in fits for three days-^eh ! Dr. Sly?" 
 
 " Certainly you would, madam ; your nerves are very delicate." 
 
 " Well ! I, for my part, never could see much use in giving up 
 to one's feelings. It is all very weU for commoners," rather 
 rudely exclaimed the Marchioness' Toadey ; " but we did not 
 choose to expose ourselves to the servants, when the old General 
 died this year. Everything went on as usual. Her Ladyship 
 attended Almacks ; my Ijord took his seat in the House ; and 
 I looked in at Lady Doubtful's ; where we do not visit, but where 
 the Marchioness wishes to be civil." 
 
 " We do not visit Lady Doubtful either," replied Miss Gusset : 
 " she had not a card for our fete champetre. I was so sorry you 
 were not in to-\vn. It was so delightful ! " 
 
 " Do tell me who was there ? I quite long to know all about it. 
 I saw some account of it. Everytliing seemed to go off so well. 
 Do tell me who was there ? " 
 
 " Oh ! there was i)lenty of Royalty at the head of the list. 
 Really I cannot go into particulars, but everybody was there — 
 who is anybody — eh! Dr. Sly?" 
 
 " Certainly, madam. The pines were most admirable ; there 
 are few people for whom I entertain a higher esteem than Mr. 
 Gunter." 
 
 " The Marchioness seems very fond of her dog and parrot, Miss 
 Graves — but she is a sweet woman ! " 
 
 " Oh, a dear, amiable creature ! but I cannot think how she can 
 bear the eternal screaming of that noisy bird." 
 
 " Nor I, indeed. Well, thank goodness, Mrs. Million has no 
 pets— eh! Dr. Sly?" 
 
VIVIAN GUET, 75 
 
 " Certainly ; I am clearly of opinion that it cannot be whole- 
 some to have so many animals about a house. Besides M'hich, I 
 have noticed that the ISIarchioness always selects the nicest 
 morsels for that little poodle ; and I am also clearly of opinion, 
 Miss Graves, that the fit it had the other day arose from repletion." 
 
 " I have no doubt of it in the world. She consumes three 
 pounds of arrow-root weekly, and two pounds of the finest loaf 
 sugar, which I have the trouble of grating- every Monday morn- 
 ing. Mrs. Million appears to be a most amiable woman, Miss 
 Gusset?" 
 
 " Quite perfection — so charitable, so intellectual, such a soul ! 
 it is a pity, though, her manner is so abrupt ; she really does not 
 appear to advantage sometimes — eh! Dr. Sly?" 
 
 The Toadey's Toadey bowed assent as usual. " Well," rejoined 
 Miss Graves, " that is rather a fault of the dear Marchioness — 
 a little want of consideration for another's feelings, but she means 
 nothing." 
 
 " Oh, no ! nor Mrs. Million, dear creature ! she means nothing ; 
 though, I dare saj', not knowing her so well as we do — eh ! Dr. 
 Sly ? — you were a little surprised at the way in which she spoke 
 to me at dinner." 
 
 " All people have their oddities, jSIiss Gusset. I am sure the 
 Marchioness is not aware how she tries my patience about that 
 little -nTetch Julie ; — I had to rub her mth warm flannels for an 
 hour and a half, before the fire this morning ; — that is that Vinan 
 Grey's doing." 
 
 " Who is this Mr. Grey, Miss Graves?" 
 
 " Who, indeed ! Some young man the Marquess has picked 
 up, and who comes lecturing here about poodles, and parrots, and 
 thinking himself quite Lord Paramount, I can assure you ; I am 
 suqjrised that the Marchioness, who is a most sensible woman, 
 can patronise such conduct a moment; but whenever she begins 
 to see through him, the young gentleman has always got a story 
 about a bracelet, or a bandeau, and quite turns her head." 
 
 " Very disagreeable, I am sure." 
 
 " Some people are so easily managed ! By-the-bye, Miss 
 Gusset, who could have advised Mrs. Million to wear crimson? 
 So large as she is, it does not at all suit her : I suppose it's a 
 favourite colour." 
 
 " Dear Miss Graves, you are always so insinuating. What can 
 Miss Graves mean — eh! Dr. Sly?" 
 
 A Lord Burleigh shake of the head. 
 
 " Cynthia Courtowu seems as lively as ever," said Miss Gusset. 
 
 " Yes, lively enough, but I wish her manner was less brusque." 
 
 " Brusque, indeed I you may well say so : she neaily pushed me 
 
76 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 down in the Hall ; and when I looked as if I thought she might 
 have given me a little more room, she tossed her Lead and said, 
 ' Beg pardon, never saw you ! ' " 
 
 "I wonder what Lord Alhambra sees in that girl?" 
 
 " Oh ! those forward misses always take the men." 
 
 '• Well," said Miss Graves, " I have no notion that it will come 
 to anything ; I am sure, I, for one, hope not," added she, with all 
 a Toadey's venom. 
 
 " The Marquess seems to keep a remarkably good table," said the 
 physician. " There was a haunch to-day, which I really think was 
 the finest haunch I ever met with ; but that little move at dinner — 
 it was, to say the least, very ill-timed." 
 
 " Yes, that was Vivian Grey again," said Miss Graves, very in- 
 dignantly. 
 
 " So, you have got the Beaconsfields here. Miss Graves ; nice, 
 unaffected, quiet people ?" 
 
 " Yes ! very quiet." 
 
 " As you say. Miss Graves, very quiet, but a little heavy." 
 
 •' Yes, heavy enough." 
 
 " If you had but seen the quantity of pine-apples that boy Dor- 
 mer Stanhope devoured at our fete champetre ! — but I have the 
 comfort of knowing that they made him very ill — eh! Dr. 
 Sly?" 
 
 " Oh ! he learnt that from his uncle," said Miss Graves ; " it is 
 quite disgusting to see how that Vivian Grey encourages him." 
 
 " What an elegant, accomplished woman Mrs. Felix Lorraine 
 seems to be. Miss Graves ! I suppose the Marchioness is very 
 fond of her?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ; the Marchioness is so good-natured, that I dare say 
 she thinks very well of Mrs. Felix Lorraine. She thinks well of 
 every one ; but I believe Mrs. Felix is rather a greater favourite 
 with the Marquess." 
 
 "O h!" drawled out Miss Gusset with a very significant 
 
 tone. " I suppose she is one of your playing-up ladies. I think 
 you told me she was only on a visit here." 
 
 " A pretty long visit though, for a sister-in-law — if sister-in-law 
 she be. As I was saying to the Marchioness the other day — 
 when Mrs. Felix offended her so violently by trampling on the 
 dear little Julie — if he came into a Court of Justice, I should 
 like to see the proof — that's all. At any rate, it is pretty evident 
 that Mr. Lorraine has had enough of his bargain." 
 
 " Quite evident, I think — eh ! Dr. Sly ? Those German women 
 never make good English wives," continued Miss Gusset, with all 
 a Toadey's patriotism. 
 
 " Talking- of wives, did not you think Lady Julia spoke very 
 
VIVIAN GKEY. 77 
 
 strang-e]y of Sir Peter, after dinner to-tlay ? I hate that Lady 
 Julia, if it be only for petting- Vivian Grey so." 
 
 " Yes, indeed, it is quite enough to make one sick — eh ! Dr. 
 Sly?" 
 
 The doctor shook his head mournfully, remembering the 
 haunch. 
 
 " They say Ernest Clay is in sad difficulties, Miss Gusset." 
 
 '•' Well, I always expected his dash would end in that. Those 
 wild harum-scarum men are monstrous disagreeable ; I like a per- 
 son of some reflection — eh! Dr. Sly ?" 
 
 Before the doctor could bow his usual assent there entered 
 a pretty little page, very daintily attired in a fancy dress of green 
 and silver. Twirling his richly-chased dirk with one tiny white 
 hand, and at the same time playing- with a pet curl, which was 
 pictui-esquely flowing over his forehead, he advanced with ambling- 
 gait to Miss Gusset, and, in a mincing- voice and courtly phrase, 
 summoned her to the imperial presence. 
 
 The lady's features immediately assumed the expression which 
 befitted the approaching interview, and in a moment Miss Graves 
 and the physician were left alone. 
 
 " Very amiable young woman Miss Gusset appears to be. Dr. 
 Sly?" 
 
 "Oh! the most amiable being- in the world; I owe her the 
 greatest obligations." 
 
 " So gentle in her manners." 
 
 " O yes, so gentle." 
 
 " So considerate for everybody." 
 
 " Oh, yes! so considerate," echoed the Aberdeen M.D. 
 
 "I am afraid though, she must sometimes meet with people 
 who do not exactly understand her character ; such extraordi- 
 nary consideration for others is sometimes liable to miscon- 
 struction." 
 
 " Very sensibly remarked. Miss Graves. I am sure Miss Gusset 
 means well ; and that kind of thing is all very admirable in its 
 way ; but — but " 
 
 "But what. Dr. Sly?" 
 
 '•' Why, I Avas merely going to hazard an observation, that ac- 
 cording to my feelings — that is, to my own peculiar view of the 
 case, I should prefer some people thinking more about their own 
 business, and, and — but I mean nothing." 
 
 " Oh, no, of course not, Dr. Sly ! you know we always except 
 our own immediate friends, at least when we can be sure they are 
 our friends ; but, as you were saying, or going to say, those per- 
 sons who are so very anxious about other people's affairs, are not 
 always the most agreeable persons in the world to live with. It 
 
78 VIVIAN GEEt. 
 
 certainly did strike me, that tliat interference of Miss Gusset's 
 about Julie to-day, was, to say the least, very odd." 
 
 " Oh, my dear madam ! when you know her as well as I do, you 
 will see she is always ready to put in a word." 
 
 " Well ! do you know, Dr. Sly, between ourselves, that was 
 exactly my impression ; and she is then very, very — I do not 
 exactly mean to say meddling, or inquisitive ; but — but you under- 
 stand me. Dr. Sly ? " 
 
 " Perfectly ; and if I were to speak my mind, which I do not 
 hesitate to do in confidence to you. Miss Graves, I really should. 
 say that she is the most jealous, irritable, malicious, meddling, 
 and at the same time fawning-, disposition, that I ever met with in 
 the whole course of my life, and I speak from experience." 
 
 " Well, do you know. Dr. Sly, from all I have seen, that was 
 exactly my impression ; therefore I have been particularly careful 
 not to commit myself to such a person." 
 
 " Ah ! Miss Graves ! if all ladies were like you ! h ! " 
 
 "My dear Dr. Sly!" 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 YiviAN had duly acquainted the Marquess with the successful 
 progress of his negotiations with their intended partizans, and 
 Lord Carabas had himself conversed with them singly on the 
 important subject. It was thought proper, however, in this stage 
 of the proceedings, that the persons interested should meet together; 
 and so the two Lords, and Sir Berdmore, and Vivian, were invited 
 to dine with the Marquess alone, and in his library. 
 
 There was abundance of dumb waiters, and other inventions, 
 by which the ease of the guests might be consulted, without risking 
 even their secret looks to the gaze of liveried menials. The 
 Marquess' gentleman sat in an antechamber, in case human aid 
 might be necessary, and everything, as his Lordship averred, was 
 "on the same system as the Cabinet Dinners." 
 
 In the ancient kingdom of England, it hath ever been the 
 custom to dine previously to transacting business. This habit is 
 one of tliosc few which are not contingent upon the mutable 
 fancies of fashion, and at this day we see Cabinet Dinners, and 
 Vestry Dinners, alike proving the correctness of our assertion. 
 Whether the custom really expedites the completion or the 
 general progress of the business Avhich gives rise to it, is a grave 
 question, wliich we do not feel qualified to decide. Certain it is, 
 that very often, after the diimcr, an appointment is made for the 
 transaction of the business on the following moruino,' : at the same 
 
VrV'IA'N GEET. 79 
 
 time it must be remembered, that had it not been for the oppor- 
 tunity wliicli the banquet afforded of developing the convivial 
 qualities of the guests, and drawing out, by the assistance of 
 generous wine, their most kindly sentiments, and most engaging 
 feelings, it is very probable that the appointment for the transaction 
 of the business would never have been made at all. 
 
 There certainly was every appearance that " the great business," 
 as the Marquess styled it, would not be veiy much advanced by the 
 cabinet dinner at Chateau Desir. For, in the first place, the 
 table was laden " with eveiy delicacy of the season," and really 
 when a man is either going to talk sense, fight a duel, or make his 
 will, nothing should be seen at dinner, save cutlets, and the lightest 
 Bourdeaux. And, in the second place, it must be confessed, that 
 when it came to the point of all the parties interested meeting, 
 the Marquess' courage somewhat misgave him. Not that any 
 particular reason occurred to him, which would have induced him 
 to yield one jot of the theory of his sentiments, but the putting 
 them in practice rather made him nervous. In short, he was as 
 convinced as ever, that he was an ill-used man of great influence 
 and abilities ; but then he remembered his agreeable sinecure, and 
 his dignified ofi&ce, and he might not succeed. The thought did 
 not please. 
 
 But here they were all assembled ; receding was impossible ; and 
 so the Marquess took a glass of claret, and felt more courageous. 
 
 " My Lords and Gentlemen," he began, " although I have 
 myself taken the opportunity of communicating to you singly my 
 thoughts upon a certain subject, and altliough, if I am rightly 
 informed, my excellent young friend has communicated to you 
 more fully upon that subject ; yet, my Lords and Gentlemen, I 
 beg to remark that this is the first time that we have collectively 
 assembled to consult on the possibility of certain views, upon the 
 propriety of thek nature, and the expediency of their adoption." 
 (Here the claret passed.) " The present state of parties," the 
 Marquess continued, "has doubtless for a long time engaged 
 your attention. It is very peculiar, and although the result 
 has been gi-adually arrived at, it is nevertheless, now that it is 
 realised, startling, and not, I apprehend, very satisfactory. There 
 are few distinctions now between the two sides of the House 
 of Commons, very different from the times in which most, I 
 believe all, of us, my Lords and Gentlemen, were members of 
 that assembly. The question then naturally arises, why a certain 
 body of individuals, who now represent no opinions, should 
 an-ogate to themselves the entire government and control of the 
 country ? A second question would occur, how they contrive to 
 succeed in such an assumption ? They succeed clearly because 
 
80 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 the party, who placed them in power because they represented 
 certain opinions, still continue to them their support. Some of 
 the most influential members of that party, I am bold to say, may 
 be found in this room. I don't know, if the boroughs of Lord 
 Courtown and Lord Beacousfield were withdrawn at a critical 
 division, what might be the result. I am quite sure that if the 
 forty country gentlemen who follow, I believe I am justified in 
 saying, our friend Sir Berdmore, and wisely follow him, were to 
 declare their opposition to any particular tax, the present men would 
 be beaten, as they have been beaten before. I was myself a member 
 of the government when so beaten, and I know what Lord Liverpool 
 said the next morning. Lord Liverpool said the next morning, 
 ' Forty country gentlemen, if they choose, might repeal every tax 
 in the Budget." Under these circumstances, my Lords and 
 Gentlemen, it becomes us, in my opinion, to consider our situation. I 
 am far from wishing to witness any general change, or, indeed, very 
 wide reconstruction of the present administration. I think the 
 interests of the country require that the general tenor of their 
 system should be supported; but there are members of that 
 administration, whose claims to that distinction appear to me 
 more than questionable, while at the same time there are indi- 
 \-iduals excluded, personages of great influence and recognised 
 talents, who ought no longer, in my opinion, to occupy a position 
 in the background. Mr. Vivian Grey, a gentleman whom I have 
 the honour to call my particular friend, and who, I believe, has 
 had already the pleasure of incidentally conversing with you ou 
 the matters to which I have referred, has given great attention 
 to this important subject. He is a younger man than any of us, 
 and certainly has much better lungs than I have. I will take the 
 liberty therefore of requesting him to put the case in its complete- 
 ness before us." 
 
 A great deal of " desultory conversation," as it is styled, rela- 
 tive to the great topic of debate, now occurred. When the blood 
 of the party was tolerably warmed, Vivian addressed them. The 
 tenor of his oration may be imagined. He developed the new 
 political principles, demonstrated the mistake under the baneful 
 influence of which they had so long sufl'ered, promised them place, 
 and power, and patronage, and personal consideration, if they would 
 only act on the principles which he recommended, in the most 
 flowing language, and the most melodious voice, in which the 
 glories of ambition wore ever yet chaunted. Tliere was a buzz 
 of admiration when the flattering music ceased ; the Marquess 
 smiled triumphantly, as if to say, " Didn't I tell you he was a 
 monstrous clever fellow ? " and the whole business seemed .settled. 
 Lord Courtown gave in a bumper, •• Jlr. Viciaii Grey, and suC' 
 
YXVJAN GKEY. 81 
 
 cess to Jus maiden speech ;" and Vivian replied by proposing, " The 
 New Union." At last, Sir Berdmore, the coolest of them all, 
 raised his voice : " He quite agreed with Mr. Grey in the princi- 
 ples which he had developed ; and, for his own part, he was free 
 to confess, that he had perfect confidence in that gentleman's very 
 brilliant abilities, and augured from their exertion complete and 
 triumphant success. At the same time, he felt it his duty to re- 
 mark to their Lordships, and also to that gentleman, that the 
 House of Commons was a new scene to him; and he put it, 
 whether they were quite convinced that they were sufficiently 
 strong, as regarded talent in that assembly. He could not take 
 it upon himself to offer to become the leader of the party. Mr. 
 Grey might be capable of undertaking that charge, but still it 
 must be remembered, that, in that assembly, he was as yet untried. 
 He made no apology to Mr. Grey for speaking his mind so freely; 
 he was sure that his motives could not be misinterpreted. If their 
 Lordships, on the whole, were of opinion that this charge should 
 be entrusted to him, he, Sir Berdmore, having the greatest confi- 
 dence in jNIr. Grey's abilities, would certainly support him to the 
 utmost." 
 
 " He can do anything," said the Marquess. 
 
 " He is a surprising clever man ! " said Lord Courtown. 
 
 " He is a surprising clever man ! " echoed Lord Beaconsfield. 
 
 " Stop, my Lords," said Vivian, " your good opinion deserves 
 my gratitude, but these important matters do indeed require a 
 moment's consideration. I trust that Sir Berdmore Scrope does 
 not imagine that I am the vain idiot, to be oflTended at his most 
 excellent remarks, even for a moment. Are we not met here for 
 the common good — and to consult for the success of the common 
 cause ? Whatever my talents are, they are at your service — and, in 
 your service, Avill I venture anything ; but surely, my Lords, you 
 will not unnecessarily entrust this great business to a raw hand ! 
 I need only aver, that I am ready to follow any leader, who can 
 play his great part in a becoming manner " 
 
 '• Noble 1 " said the Marquess. 
 
 But who was the leader to be ? Sir Berdmore frankly confessed 
 that he had none to propose ; and the Viscount and the Baron were 
 quite silent. 
 
 " Gentlemen ! " exclaimed the Marquess, " Gentlemen ! there 
 is a man, wlio could do our bidding." The eyes of every guest 
 were fixed on the haranguing host. 
 
 " Gentlemen, fill your glasses — I give you our leader — ^Ir. 
 Frederick Cleveland 1 " 
 
 " Cleveland ! " every one exclaimed. A glass of claret fell from 
 Lord Courtown's hand ; Lord Beaconsfield stopped as he was about 
 
 G 
 
SQ VIVIAN GTEV. 
 
 to fill liis glass, and stood gaping at the Marquess, with the decanter 
 in his hand ; and Sir Berdniore stared on the table, as men do 
 when something unexpected, and astounding, has occurred at din- 
 ner, which seems past all their management. 
 " Cleveland ! " exclaimed the guests. 
 
 " I should as soon have expected you to have given us Lucifer ! " 
 said Lord Courtown. 
 
 '• Or the present Secretary ! " said Lord Beaconsfield. 
 " Or yourself," said Sir Berdmore. 
 
 " And does any one maintain that Frederick Cleveland is not 
 capable of driving out a much stronger Government than he will 
 have to cope with ? " demanded the Marquess, with a rather fierce 
 air. 
 
 " We do not deny Mr. Cleveland's powers, my Lord ; we only 
 humbly beg to suggest that it appears to us, that, of all the per- 
 sons in the world, the man with whom Mr. Cleveland would be 
 least inclined to coalesce, would be the Marquess of Cai-abas." 
 The Marquess looked somewhat blank. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Vivian, " do not despair; it is enough for 
 me to know that there is a man who is capable of doing our work. 
 Be he animate man, or incarnate fiend, provided he can be found 
 within this realm, I pledge myself that, within ten days, he is 
 drinking my noble friend's health at this very board." 
 
 The Marquess said, " Bravo," the rest smiled, and rose from the 
 table in some confusion. Little more was said on the "great 
 business." The guests took refuge in coffee and a glass of liqueur. 
 The pledge was, however, apparently accepted, and Lord Carabas 
 and Vivian were soon left alone. The Marquess seemed agitated 
 by Vivian's offer and engagement. " This is a grave business," he 
 said; " you hardly know, my dear Vivian, what you have under- 
 taken — but if anybody can succeed, you will. We must talk of this 
 to-morrow. There are some obstacles, and I should once have 
 thought, invincible. I cannot conceive what made me mention his 
 name ; but it has been often in my mind since you first spoke to 
 me. You and he together, we might carry everything before us. 
 But there are some obstacles — no doubt there are some obstacles. 
 You heard whcxt Courtown said, a man who does not make difl?.- 
 culties, and Beacousfield a man who does not say much. Cour- 
 town called him Lucifer. He is Lucifer. But, by Jove, you are 
 the man to overcome obstacles. We must talk of it to-morrow. 
 So now, my dear fellow, good night ! " 
 
 " What have I done ? " thought Vivian ; " I am sure that Lucifer 
 may know, for I do not. This Cleveland is, I suppose, after all 
 but a man. I saw the feeble fools were v.'avering; and to save a]\, 
 made a leap in the dark. Well! is my skull cracked? Nous ver- 
 
VIVIAN onET. 83 
 
 ron.?. How hot, eitlicr tliis room or my blood is ! Come, for some 
 frcsli air ; (he oldened the library window) how fresh and soft it is ! 
 Just the night for the balcony. Ilah ! music ! I cannot mistake 
 that voice. Singular woman ! I will just walk on, till I am beneath 
 her window." 
 
 Vivian accordingly proceeded along the balcony, which extended 
 dowTi one whole side of the Chateau. While he was looking at the 
 moon he stumbled against some one. It was Colonel Delmington. 
 He apologised to the militaire for treading on his toes, and won- 
 dered '•' how the devil he got there ! " 
 
84 VIVIAN cr.EY. 
 
 BOOK TIL 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Frederick Cleveland was educated at Eton, and at Cam- 
 bridge ; and after having proved, both at the school and the Uni- 
 versity, that he possessed talents of a hig-h order, he had the cou- 
 rage, in order to perfect them, to immure himself for three years 
 in a German University. It was impossible, therefore, for two 
 minds to have been cultivated on more contrary systems, than 
 those of Frederick Cleveland and Vivian Grey. The systems on 
 which they had been educated were not, however, more discordant 
 than the respective tempers of the pupils. With that of Vivian 
 Grey the reader is now somewhat acquainted. It has been shown 
 that he was one precociously convinced of the necessity of ma- 
 naging mankind, by studying their tempers and humouring their 
 weaknesses. Cleveland turned from the Book of Nature with 
 contempt ; and although his Avas a mind of extraordinary acute- 
 ness, he was, at three-and-thirty, as ignorant of the workings of 
 the human heart, as when, in the innocence of boyhood, he first 
 reached Eton. 
 
 Although possessed of no fortune, from his connections, and the 
 reputation of his abilities, he entered Parliament at an early age. 
 His success was eminent. It was at this period that he formed a 
 great friendship with the present Marquess of Carabas, then Under 
 Secretary of State. His exertions for the party to which ^Ir. 
 Under Secretary Lorraine belonged were unremitting ; and it was 
 mainly through their influence, that a great promotion took place 
 in the official appointments of the party. When the hour of 
 reward came, Mr. Lorraine and his friends unfortunately forgot 
 their youthful champion. He remonstrated, and they smiled : lie 
 reminded them of private friendship, and they answered him with 
 political expediency. Mr. Cleveland went down to the House, 
 and attacked his old comates in a spirit of unexampled bitterness. 
 He examined in review the various members of the party that had 
 deserted liim. They trembled on their seats, while they writhed 
 beneath the keenness of his satire : but when the orator came to 
 Mr. President Lorraine, he flourished the tomahawk on high, like 
 a wild Indian chieftain ; and the attack was so awfully severe, so 
 overpowering, so annihilating, that even this hackneyed and har- 
 dened official trembled, turned pale, and quitted the House. Cleve- 
 land's triumph was splendid, but it was only for a night. Disgusted 
 with mankind, he scouted the thousand otters of political cunnec- 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 85 
 
 tions wliicli crowded upon him ; aud, having- succeeded in making 
 an arrangement •with his creditors, he accepted the Chilteru Hun- 
 dreds. 
 
 By the interest of his friends, he procured a judicial situation of 
 sufficient emolument, but of local duty ; aud to fulfil this duty 
 he M'as obliged to reside in Korth Wales. The locality, indeed, 
 suited him M-ell, for he was sick of the world at niue-and-tweuty ; 
 and, carrying his beautiful and nev.ly-married wife from the world 
 — which without him she could not love — ]Mr. Cleveland enjoyed 
 all the luxuries of a cottage oruee, in the most romantic part of 
 the Principality. Here were born uuto him a sou and daughter, 
 beautiful children, upon whom the father lavished all the affection 
 which Nature had intended for the world. 
 
 Four years had Cleveland now passed in his solitude, — an un- 
 happy man. A thousand times, during the first year of his retire- 
 nieut, he cursed the moment of excitement which had banished 
 him from the world ; for he fouud himself without resources, aud 
 restless as a curbed courser. Like many men who are boi'u to be 
 orators — like Curran, and like Fox, — Cleveland was not blessed, 
 or cursed, with the faculty of composition ; and indeed, had his 
 pen been that of a ready writer, pique would have prevented him 
 from delighting or instructing a world whose nature he endea- 
 voured to persuade himself was base, and whose applause ought 
 consequently to be valueless. In the second year he endeavoured 
 to while away his time, by interesting himself in those pursuits 
 which Nature has kindly provided for country gentlemen. Farm- 
 ing kept him alive for a while ; but, at length, his was the jn-ize 
 ox ; and, having gained a cup, he got wearied of kiue too prime 
 for eating ; wheat, too fine for the composition of the staif of life ; 
 and ploughs so ingeniously contrived, that the very ingenuity 
 prevented them from being useful. Cleveland was now seen 
 wandering over the moors, and mountains, with a gun over his 
 shoulder, and a couple of dogs at his heels; but ennui returned in 
 spite of his patent percussion : aud so, at length, tired of being a 
 sportsman, he almost became what he had fancied himself in an 
 hour of passion, — a misanthrope. 
 
 After having been closeted with Lord Carabas for a considerable 
 time, the morning after the cabiuet dinner, Vivian left Chateau 
 Desir. 
 
 He travelled night and day, until he arrived in the vicinity of 
 iMr. Cleveland's abode. What was he to do now ? After some 
 deliberation, he despatched a note to Mr. Cleveland, informing 
 him, " that he (Mr. Grey) was the bearer to Mr. Cleveland of a 
 ' communication of importance.' Under the circumstances of the 
 case, he observed that he had declined bringing any letters of 
 
86 ViVlAN GKEY. 
 
 introduction. He was quite aware, therefore, that he should 
 have no right to comphiin, if he had to travel back three 
 hundred miles without having the honour of an interview ; but 
 he trusted that this necessary breach of etiquette would be over- 
 looked." 
 
 The note produced the desired effect ; and an appointment was 
 made for ;Mr. Grey to call at Kenrich Lodge on the following 
 morning. 
 
 Vivian, as he entered the room, took a rapid glance at its master. 
 Mr. Cleveland was tall and distinguished, v/ith a face which might 
 have been a model for manly beauty. He came forward to receive 
 Vivian, with a Newfoundland dog on one side, and a large black 
 greyhound on the other ; and the two animals, after having elabo- 
 rately examined the stranger, divided between them the luxuries 
 of the rug. The reception which Mr. Cleveland gave our hero 
 was cold and constrained ; but it did not appear to be purposely 
 uncivil; and Vivian flattered himself that his manner was not 
 unusually stiff. 
 
 " I do not know whether I have the honour of addressing the 
 son of Mr. Horace Grey?" said Mr. Cleveland, with a frowning 
 countenance, which was intended to be courteous. 
 
 " I have that honour." 
 
 " Your father, sir, is a most amiable, and able man. I had the 
 pleasure of his acquaintance when I was in London many years 
 ago, at a time when Mr. Vivian Grey was not entrusted, I rather 
 imagine, with missions 'of importance.'" — Although Mr. Cleve- 
 land smiled when he said this, his smile was anything* but a gra- 
 cious one. The subdued satire of his keen eye burst out for an 
 instant, and he looked as if he would have said, " Who is this 
 younker who is trespassing upon my retirement?" 
 
 Vivian had, unbidden, seated himself by the side of Mr. Cleve- 
 land's library table ; and, not knomng exactly how to proceed, 
 was employing himself by making a calculation, whether there 
 were more black than white spots on the body of the old New- 
 foundland, who was now apparently happily slumbering. 
 
 " Well, sir ! " continued the Newfoundland's master, " the 
 nature of your communication ? I am fond of coming to the 
 point." 
 
 Now this was precisely the thing which Vivian had determined 
 not to do; and so he diplomatised, in order to gain time. — "In 
 stating, Mr. Cleveland, that tlie communication which I had to 
 make was one of importance, I beg to be understood, that it was 
 with reference merely to my opinion of its nature that that plirase 
 was used, and not as relative to ilie possible, or, allow me to say, 
 the probable, opinion of Mr. Cleveland." 
 
viviAX r,i;KY. 87 
 
 " Well, sir ! " said that ycutleman, with a somewhat disap- 
 pointed air. 
 
 " As to the purport or nature of the communication, it i:^," said 
 Vivian, with one of his sweetest cadences, and, looking up to Mr. 
 Cleveland's face, with an eye expressive of all kindness, — '• it is of 
 a political nature." 
 
 "Well, sir!" again exclaimed Cleveland, looking very anxious, 
 and moving restlessly on his library chair. 
 
 " "WTien we take into consideration, Mr. Cleveland, the present 
 aspect of the political world; when we call to mind the present 
 situation of the two great political parties, you will not be sur- 
 prised, I feel confident, when I mention that certain personages 
 have thought that the season was at hand, when a move might be 
 made in the political world with very considerable eflfect " 
 
 "Mr. Grey, what am I to understand?" interrupted Mr. Cleve- 
 land, who began to suspect that the envoy was no greenhorn. 
 
 '• I feel confident, Mr. Cleveland, that I am doing very imperfect 
 justice to the mission with which I am entrusted ; but, sir, you 
 must be aware that the delicate nature of such disclosures, 
 and " 
 
 " Mr. Gi'ey, I feel confident that you do not doubt my honour ; 
 and, as for the rest, the world has, I believe, some foolish tales 
 about me ; but, believe me, you shall be listened to with patience. 
 I am certain that, whatever may be the communication, Mr. Vivian 
 Grey i« a gentleman who will do its merits justice." 
 
 And now Vivian, having' succeeded in exciting Cleveland's curio- 
 sity, and securing himself the certaiuty of a hearing, and having 
 also made a favourable impression, dropped the diplomatist alto- 
 gether, and was explicit enough for a Spartan. 
 
 " Certain Noblemen and Gentlemen of eminence, and influence, 
 
 hitherto considered as props of the part}', are about to 
 
 take a novel and decided course next Session. It is to obtain the 
 aid and personal co-operation of Mr. Cleveland that I am now 
 in Wales." 
 
 " Mr. Grey, I have promised to listen to you with patience : — 
 you are too young a man to know much perhaps of the history of 
 so insignificant a personage as myself; otherwise, you would have 
 been aware, that there is no subject in the world on which I am 
 less inclined to converse, than that of politics. If I were entitled 
 to take such a liberty, I would recommend you to think of them 
 as little as / do ; but enough of this : who is the mover of the 
 party?" 
 
 " My Lord Courtown is a distinguished member of it." 
 
 '• Courtown — Courtown ; powerful enough : but surely the good 
 Viscount's skull is not exactlv the head for the chief of a cabal ? " 
 
88 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 " There is my Lord Beaconsfield." 
 
 " Powerful too — but a dolt." 
 
 " Well," thous^ht Vivian, '•' it must out at last ; and so to it 
 boldly. And, Mr. Cleveland, there is little fear that we may 
 secure the great influence and tried talents of the Marquess of 
 Carabas." 
 
 ■ " The ISIarquess of Carabas ! " almost shrieked ?.Ir. Cleveland, 
 as he started from his seat and paced the room with hurried steps; 
 and the g-reyhound and the Newfoundland jumped up from the 
 rug, shook themselves, growled, and then imitated their master 
 in promenading the apartment, but with more dignified and 
 stately paces. — " The Marquess of Carabas ! Now, Mr. Grey, 
 speak to me with the frankness which one gentleman should use 
 to another;— is the Marquess of Carabas uriw to this appli- 
 cation ? " 
 
 " He himself proposed it." 
 
 " Then, he is baser than even I conceived. Mr. Grey, I am a 
 man spare of my speech to those with whom I am unacquainted ; 
 and the world calls me a soured, malicious man. And yet, when 
 I think for a moment, that one so young as you are, endued as I 
 must suppose with no ordinary talents, and actuated as I will 
 believe with a pure and honourable spirit, should be the dupe, or 
 tool, or even present friend, of such a creature as this perjured 
 Peer, — it gives me a pang." 
 
 " Sir. Cleveland," said Vivian, " I am grateful for your kind- 
 ness ; and although we may probably part, in a few hours, never 
 to meet again, I will speak to you with the frankness which you 
 have merited, and to which I feel you are entitled. I am not 
 the dupe of the IMarquess of Carabas; I am not, I trust, the 
 dupe, or tool, of any one whatever. Believe me, sir, there is that 
 at work in England, which, taken at the tide, may lead on to for- 
 tune. I see this, sir, — I, a young man, uncommitted in political 
 principles, unconnected in public life, feeling some confidence, I 
 confess, in my ov/n abilities, but desirous of availing myself, at 
 the same time, of the powers of others. Thus situated, I find 
 myself working for the same end as my Lord Carabas, and twenty 
 other men of similar calibre, mental and moral ; and, sir, am I to 
 play the hermit in the drama of life, because, perchance, my fellow- 
 actors may be sometimes fools, and occasionally knaves ? If the 
 Marquess of Carabas has done you the ill service which Fame says 
 he has, your sweetest revenge will be to make liim your tool ; 
 your most perfect triumph, to rise to power by his influence. 
 
 " I confess that I am desirous of finding iu you the companion 
 of my career. Your splendid talents have long commanded my 
 admiration; and, as you have given me credit for something like 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 89 
 
 f»ood feeling', I will say that my wish to find in you a colleague u 
 greatly increased, when I see that those splendid talents are even 
 the least estimable points in Mr. Cleveland's character. But, sir, 
 perhaps all this time I am in error, — perhaps Mr. Cleveland is, as 
 the world reports him, no longer the ambitious being- who once 
 commanded the admiration of a listening Senate ; — perhaps, con- 
 vinced of the vanity of human wishes, I\Ir. Cleveland would rather 
 devote his attention to the furtherance of the interests of his im- 
 mediate circle ; — and, having scliooled his intellect in tlie Univer- 
 sities of two nations, is probably content to pass the hours of his 
 life in mediating in the quarrels of a country village." 
 
 Vivian ceased. Cleveland heard him, with his head resting 
 on both his arms. He started at the last expression, and some- 
 thing like a blush suffused his cheek, but he did not reply. At last 
 he jumped up, and rang the bell. " Come, Mr. Grey," said he, " I 
 am in no humour for politics this morning. You must not, at 
 at any rate, visit Wales for nothing. Morris ! send down to the 
 village for tiiis gentleman's luggage. Even we cottagers have 
 a bed for a friend, Mr. Grey: — come, and I will introduce you to 
 my wife." 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 And Vivian was now an inmate of Kenrich Lodge, It would 
 have been difficult to have conceived a life of more pure happi- 
 ness, than that which was apparently enjoyed by its gifted master. 
 A beautiful wife, and lovely children, and a romantic situation, 
 and an income sufficient, not only for their own, but for the wants 
 of their necessitous neighbours ; what more could man wish ? 
 Answer me, thou inexplicable myriad of sensations, which the 
 world calls human nature ! 
 
 Three days passed over in delightful converse. It was so long 
 since Cleveland had seen any one fresh from the former scenes of 
 his life, that the company of any one would have been agreeable ; 
 but here was a companion who knew every one, every thing, full 
 of wit, and anecdote, and literature, and fashion ; and then so 
 engaging in his manners, and with such a winning voice. 
 
 The heart of Cleveland relented : his stern manner gave way ; 
 all his former warm and generous feeling gained the ascendant ; 
 he was in turn amusing, communicative, and engaging. Finding 
 that he could please another, he began to be pleased himself. The 
 nature of the business upon which Vivian was his guest, rendered 
 confidence necessary ; confidence begets kindness. In a few days, 
 Vivian necessarily became more acquainted with Mr. Cleveland's 
 
90 VIVIAN GEEY. 
 
 disposition and situation, than if they had been acquainted for as 
 many years ; in short. 
 
 They talked with open heart and tongue, 
 Affectionate and true, 
 A pair of friends. 
 
 Vivian, for some time, dwelt upon everything but the immediate 
 subject of his mission ; but when, after the experience of a few 
 days, their hearts were open to each other, and they had mutually 
 begun to discover that there was a most astonishing similarity iu 
 their principles, their tastes, their feelings, then the magician poured 
 forth his incantation, and raised the once-laid ghost of Cleveland's 
 ambition. The recluse agreed to take the lead of the Carabas 
 party. He was to leave "Wales immediately, and resign his place ; 
 in return for which, the nephew of Lord Courtown was imme- 
 diately to give up, in his favour, an office of considerable emolu- 
 ment ; and, having thus provided some certainty for his family, 
 Frederick Cleveland prepared himself to combat for a more im- 
 portant office. 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 "Is Mr. Cleveland handsome?" asked Mrs. Felix Lorraine 
 of Vivian, immediately on his return, " and what colour are his 
 eyes?" 
 
 " Upon my honour, I have not the least recollection of ever 
 looking at them ; but I believe he is not blind." 
 
 " How foolish you are ! now tell me, pray, point de moquerie, is 
 he amusing ? " 
 
 "What does Mrs. Felix Lorraine mean by amusing?" asked 
 Vivian. 
 
 " Oh ! you always tease me with your definitions ; go away — 
 I'll quarrel with you." 
 
 " By-the-bye, Mrs. Felix Lorraine, how is Colonel Delm- 
 iugton ? " 
 
 Vivian redeemed his pledge : Mr. Cleveland arrived. It was 
 the wish of the Marquess, if possible, not to meet his old friend 
 till dinner time. He thought that, surrounded by liis guests, cer- 
 tain awkward senatorial reminiscences might be got over. But, 
 unfortunately, Mr. Cleveland arrived about an hour before dinner, 
 and, as it was a cold autumnal day, most of the visitors, who 
 were staying at Chateau Desir, were assembled in the drawing- 
 room. The Marquess sallied forwai^d to receive his guest with a. 
 
VIVIAN GKEY. 91 
 
 most dig'tiified countenance, and a most aristocratic step ; but, 
 before he g;ot half way, his coronation pace deg-encrated into a 
 strut, and then into a shamble, and with an awkward and confused 
 countenance, half impudent, and half flinching-, he held forward 
 his left hand to his newly-arrived visitor. Mr. Cleveland looked 
 terrifically courteous, and amiably arrogant. He greeted the 
 Marquess with a smile, at once gracious, and grim, and looked 
 something like Goliath, as you see the Philistine depicted in 
 some old German painting, looking down upon the pigmy 
 fighting men of Israel. 
 
 As is generally the custom, when there is a great deal to be 
 arranged, and many points to be settled, days flew over, and very 
 little of the future system of the party was matured. Vivian 
 made one or two inefi'ectual struggles to bring the Marquess to a 
 business-like habit of mind, but his Lordship never dared to trust 
 himself alone with Cleveland, and indeed almost lost the power of 
 speech when in presence of the future leader of his party ; so, in 
 the morning, the Marquess played off the two Lords and Sir Berd- 
 more against his former friend, and then to compensate for not 
 meeting Mr. Cleveland in the morning-, he was particularly cour- 
 teous to him at dinner-time, and asked him always " how he liked 
 his ride?" and invariably took wine with him. As for the rest of 
 the day, he bad particularly requested his faithful counsellor, Mi-s. 
 Felix Lorraine, "for God's sake to take this man off his shoul- 
 dei-s;" and so that lady, with her usual kindness, and merely to 
 oblige his Lordship, was good enough to patronise Mr. Cleveland, 
 and on the fourth day was taking a moon-lit walk with him. 
 
 Mr. Cleveland had now been ten days at Chateau Desir, and was 
 to take his departure the next morning for Wales, in order to 
 an-ange everything for his immediate settlement in the Metro- 
 polis. Every point of importance was postponed until their 
 meeting in London. Mr. Cleveland only agreed to take the lead 
 of the party in the Commons, and received the personal pledge of 
 Lord Courtown as to the promised office. 
 
 It was a September day, and to escape from the excessive heat 
 of the sun, and at the same time to enjoy the freshness of the air, 
 Vivian was writing his letters in the conservatory, which opened 
 into one of the drawing-rooms. The numerous party, which then 
 honoured the Chateau with their presence, were out, as he con- 
 ceived, on a pic-nic excursion to the Elfin's Well, a beautiful spot 
 about ten miles off; and among the adventurers were, as he 
 imagined, Mrs. Felix Lorraine and Mr. Cleveland. 
 
 Vivian was rather surprised at hearing voices in the adjoining 
 room, and he was still more so, when, on looking round, he found 
 that the sounds proceeded from the very two individuals whom he 
 
aa VIVIAN GKEY. 
 
 tlioug'lit were far away. Some tall American plants concealed 
 him from their view, but he observed all that passed distinctly, and 
 a singular scene it was. Mrs. Felix Lorraine was on her knees at 
 the feet of Mr. Cleveland : her countenance indicated the most con- 
 trary passions, contending, as it were, for mastery — Supplication — 
 Anger — and, shall I call it ? — Love. Her companion's countenance 
 was hid, but it was evident that it was not wreathed with smiles : 
 there were a few hurried sentences uttered, and then both quitted 
 the room at dilferent doors, the lady in despau- — and the gentleman 
 in disgust. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 And now Chateau Desir was almost deserted. Mrs. Million 
 continued her progress northward. The Courtowns, and the 
 Beaconsiields, and the Scropes, quitted immediately after Mr. 
 Cleveland; and when the families that form the materiel of the 
 visiting corps retire, the nameless nothings that are always 
 lounging about the country mansions of the great, such as artists, 
 tourists, authors, and other live stock, soon disappear. Mr. Vivian 
 Grey agreed to stay another fortnight, at the particular request of 
 the Marquess. 
 
 Very few days had passed, ere Vivian was exceedingly struck at 
 the decided change v.'hich suddenly took place in his Lordslup's 
 general demeanour towards him. 
 
 The Marquess grew reserved and uncommunicative, scarcely 
 mentioning " the great business," which had previously been the 
 sole subject of his conversation, but to find fault with some 
 arrangement, and exhibiting, whenever his name was mentioned, 
 a marked acrimony against Mr. Cleveland. This rapid change 
 alarmed as much as it astonished Vivian, and he mentioned his 
 feelings and observations to IMrs. Felix Lorraine. That lady 
 agreed with him, that something certainly was wrong ; but could 
 not, unfortunately, afford him any clue to the mystery. She 
 expressed the liveliest solicitude that any misunderstanding should 
 be put an end to, and offered her services for that purpose. 
 
 In spite, however, of her well-expressed anxiety, Vivian had his 
 own ideas on the subject ; and, determined to unravel the affair, he 
 had recourse to the Marchioness. 
 
 " I hope your Ladyship is well to-day. I had a letter from 
 Count Caumont this morning. He tells me, that he has got the 
 prettiest poodle from Paris that you can possibly conceive! waltzes 
 like an angel, and acts proverbes ou its liind feet." 
 
VIVIAN GEEY. 93 
 
 Her Ladyship's eyes glistened with admiration . 
 
 " I have told Caumont to send it me down immediately, and I 
 shall then have the pleasure of presenting it to your Ladyship." 
 
 Her Ladyship's eyes sparkled with delight. 
 
 " I think," continued Vivian, " I shall take a ride to-day. By- 
 the-bye, how is the Marquess ? he seems in low spirits lately." 
 
 " Oh, j\Ir. Grey ! I do not know what you have done to him," 
 said her Ladyship, settling at least a dozen bracelets ; " but — 
 but " 
 
 "But what?" 
 
 " He thinks— he thinks." 
 
 « Thinks what, dear lady ?" 
 
 " That you have entered into a combination, Mr. Grey." 
 
 *' Entered into a combination ! " 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Grey! a conspiracy — a conspiracy against the 
 Marquess, with Mr. Cleveland. He thinks that you have made 
 him serve your purpose, and now you are going to get rid of 
 him." 
 
 "Well, that is excellent ; and what else does he think?" 
 
 "He thinks you talk too loud," said the jNIarchioness, still 
 working at her bracelets. 
 
 " Well ! that is shockingly vulgar ! Allow me to recommend 
 your Ladyship to alter the order of those bracelets, and place the 
 blue and silver against the maroon. You may depend upon it, 
 that is the true Vienna order — and what else does the Marquess 
 say?" 
 
 " He thinks you are generally too authoritative. Not that I 
 think so, Mr. Grey ; I am sure your conduct to me has been most 
 courteous — the blue and silver ne.xt to the maroon, did you say ? 
 Yes, — certainly it does look better. I have no doubt the Mar- 
 quess is quite wrong, and I dare say you will set things right 
 immediately. You will remember the pretty poodle, Mr. Grey ? 
 and you will not tell the Marquess I mentioned anything." 
 
 " Oh ! certainly not. I will give orders for them to book an 
 inside place for the poodle, and send him do\vn by the coach imme- 
 diately. I must be off now. Remember tlie blue and silver next 
 to the maroon. Good morning to your Ladyship ! " 
 
 " Mrs. Felix Lorraine, I am your most obedient slave," said 
 Vivian Grey, as he met that lady on the landing-place ; — " I can 
 see no reason Avhy I should not drive you this bright day to the 
 Elfin's Well; we have long had an engagement to go there." 
 
 The lady smiled a gracious assent ; the pony phaeton was imme- 
 diately ordered. 
 
 " How pleasant Lady Courtown and I used to discourse about 
 martingales ! I think I invented one, did not I ? Pray, Mrs. Felix 
 
94 VIVIAN GEEY. 
 
 Lorraine, can you tell me what a martingale is ? for upon my 
 honour I have forgotten, or never knew." 
 
 " If you found a marting-ale for the mother, Vivian, it had been 
 well if you had found a curb for the daughter. Poor Cynthia ! I 
 had intended once to advise the Marchioness to interfere ; but one 
 forgets these things." 
 
 " One does. — (.), Mrs. Felix ! " exclaimed Vivian, " I told your 
 idmirable story of the Leyden Professor to Mrs, Cleveland. It is 
 universally agreed to bo the best ghost-story extant. — I think you 
 said you knew the Professor ? " 
 
 " Well! I have seen him often, and heard the story from his own 
 lips. And, as I mentioned before, far from being superstitious, he 
 was an esprit fort. — Do you know, Mr. Grey, I have such an in- 
 teresting packet from Germany to-day; from my cousin, Baron 
 Rodenstein ; but I must keep all the stories for the evening ; — come 
 to ray boudoir, and I will read them to you — there is one tale which 
 I am sure will make a convert even of you. It happened to Ro- 
 denstein himself, and within these three months," added the lady 
 in a serious tone. — " The Rodensteins are a singular family. My 
 mother was a Rodenstein. — Do you think this beautiful ? " said 
 Mrs. Felix, showing Vivian a small miniature which was attached 
 to a chain round her neck. It was the portrait of a youth habited 
 in the costume of a German student. His rich brown hair was 
 flowing over his shoulders, and his dark blue eyes beamed with 
 such a look of mysterious inspii-ation, that they might have befitted 
 a young prophet. 
 
 " Very, very beautiful ! " 
 
 " 'Tis Max — Max Rodenstein," said the lady, with a faltering 
 voice. " He was killed at Leipsic, at the head of a band of his 
 friends and fellow-students. O, Mr. Grey ! this is a fair work of 
 art, but if you had but seen the prototype, you would have gazed 
 on this as on a dim and washed out drawing. There was one por- 
 trait, indeed, which did him more justice — but then, that portrait 
 was not the production of mortal pencil." 
 
 Vivian looked at his companion with a somewhat astonished air, 
 but Mrs. Felix Lorraine's countenance was as little indicative of 
 jesting, as that of the young student whose miniature rested on her 
 bosom. 
 
 " Did you say not the production of a mortal hand, Mrs. Felix 
 Lorraine ? " 
 
 " I am afraid I shall weary you witli my stories, but the one I 
 am about to tell is so well evidenced, that I think even Mr. Vivian 
 Grey will hear it without a sneer." 
 
 " A sneer! O Lady love, do I ever sneer ?" 
 
 " Max Rodenstein was the glory of his house. A being so beau- 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 95 
 
 tifol in body, and in soul, you cannot imagine, and I will not at- 
 tempt to describe. This miniature has given you some faiut idea 
 of his image, and yet this is only the copy of a copy. The only 
 Avish of the Baroness Rodenstein, which never could be accom- 
 plished, was the possession of a portrait of her youngest son — for 
 no consideration could induce Max to allow his likeness to be 
 taken. His old nurse had always told him, that the moment his 
 portrait was taken, he would die. The condition upon which such 
 a beautiful being was allowed to remain in the world was, she 
 always said, that his beauty should not be imitated. About three 
 months before the battle of Leipsic, when Max was absent at the 
 University, which was nearly four hundred miles from Rodenstein 
 Castle, there arrived one morning a large case directed to the 
 Baroness. On opening it, it was found to contain a picture — the 
 portrait of her son. The colouring was so vivid, the general exe- 
 cution so miraculous, that for some moments they forgot to wonder 
 at the incident in their admiration of the work of art. In one 
 corner of the picture, in small characters, yet fresh, was an in- 
 scription, which on examining they found consisted of these words : 
 ^Painted last nigTit. Now, lady, thou hast thy wish.' My aunt 
 sunk into the Baron's arms. 
 
 " In silence and in trembling the wonderful portrait was sus- 
 pended over the iire-place of my aunt's most favourite apartment. 
 The next day they received letters from Max. He was quite well, 
 but mentioned nothing of the mysterious painting. 
 
 " Three months afterwards, as a lady was sitting alone in the 
 Baroness' room, and gazing on the portrait of him she loved right 
 dearly, she suddenly started from her seat, and would have shrieked, 
 had not an indefinable sensation prevented her. The eyes of the 
 portrait moved. The lady stood leaning on a chair, pale, and 
 trembling like an aspen, but gazing stedfastly on the animated 
 portrait. It was no illusion of a heated fancy ; again the eyelids 
 trembled, there was a melancholy smile, and then they closed. 
 The clock of Rodenstein Castle struck three. Between astonish- 
 ment and fear the lady was tearless. Thi-ee days afterwards came 
 the news of the battle of Leipsic, and at the very moment that the 
 eyes of the portrait closed, Max Rodenstein had been pierced by a 
 Polish Lancer." 
 
 " And who was this wonderful lady, the witness of this wonderful 
 incident?" asked Vivian. 
 
 " That lady was myself." 
 
 There was something so singular in the tone of Mrs. Felix Lor- 
 raine's voice, and so peculiar in the expression of her countenance, 
 as she uttered these words, that the jest died on Vivian's tongue ; 
 
86 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 and for want of something better to do, he lashed the little ponies, 
 which were already scampering at their full speed. 
 
 The road to the Elfin's Well ran through the wildest parts of 
 the park ; and after an hour and a half's drive they reached the 
 fairy spot. It was a beautiful and pellucid spring, that bubbled 
 up in a small wild dell, which, nurtured by the flowing stream, was 
 singularly fresh and green. Above the spring had been erected a 
 Gothic arch of grey stone, round which grew a few fine birch-trees. 
 In short, Nature had intended the spot for pic-nics. There was 
 fine water, and an interesting tradition ; and as the parties always 
 bring, or always should bring, a trained punster, champagne, and 
 cold pasties, what more ought Nature to have provided ? 
 
 " Come, Mrs. Lorraine, I will tie Gypsey to this ash, and then 
 you and I will rest ourselves beneath these birch-trees, just where 
 the fairies dance." 
 
 " Oh, delightful ! " 
 
 " Now, truly, we should have some book of beautiful poetry to 
 while away an hour. You will blame me for not bringing one. 
 Do not. I would sooner listen to your voice ; and, indeed, there 
 is a subject on which I wish to ask your particular advice." 
 
 " 7s there ? " 
 
 " I have been thinking that this is a somewhat rash step of the 
 Marquess, — this throwing himself into the arms of his former bit- 
 terest enemy, Cleveland." 
 
 " You really think so ? " 
 
 "Why, Mrs. Lorraine, does it appear to you to be the most pru- 
 dent course of action, which could have been conceived ? " 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 " You agree with me, then, that there is, if not cause for regret 
 • at this engagement, at least for reflection on its probable conse- 
 quences ? " 
 
 " I quite agree with you." 
 
 " I know you do. I have had some conversation with the IMar- 
 quess upon this subject, this very morning." 
 
 " Have you ? " eagerly exclaimed the lady, and she looked pale, 
 and breathed short. 
 
 " Ay; and he tells me you have made some very sensible ob- 
 servations on the subject. 'Tis pity they were not made be- 
 fore Mr. Cleveland left, the mischief might then have been pre- 
 vented." 
 
 " I certainly have made some observations." 
 
 " And very kind of you ; what a blessing for the Marquess to 
 have such a friend ! " 
 
 " I spoke to him," said Mrs. Felix, with a more assured tone. 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 97 
 
 " in much the same spirit as you have been addressing me. It 
 does, indeed, seem a most imprudent act, aad I thought it my duty 
 to tell him so." 
 
 " Ay, no doubt ; but how came you, lady fair, to imagine that 
 I was also a person to be dreaded by his Lordship — /, Vivian 
 Grey?" 
 
 " Did I say you f " asked the lady, pale as death — 
 
 " Did you not, Mrs. Felix Lorraine ? Have you not, regardless 
 of my interests, in the most unwarrantable and unjustifiable man- 
 ner — have you not, to gratify some private pique which you enter- 
 tain against Mr. Cleveland, have you not, I ask you, poisoned the 
 Marquess' mind against one who never did aught to you but 
 what Avas kind and honourable?" 
 
 " I have been imprudent — I confess it — I have spoken somewhat 
 loosely." 
 
 " Now, listen to me once more," and Vivian grasped her hand. 
 '• What has passed between you and Mr. Cleveland, it is not for 
 me to inquire — I give you my word of honour, that he never even 
 mentioned your name to me. I can scarcely understand how any 
 man could have incurred the deadly hatred which you appear to 
 entertain for him. I repeat, I can contemplate no situation in 
 which you could be placed together, which would justify such be- 
 haviom*. It could not be justified, even if he had spurned you 
 ■while kneeling at his feet." 
 
 Mrs. Felix Lorraine shrieked and fainted. A sprinkling from 
 the fairy stream soon recovered her. "Spare me! spare me!" 
 she faintly cried : " say nothing of what you have seen." 
 
 '•' Mrs. Lorraine, I have no wish. I have spoken thus explicitly, 
 that we may not again misunderstand each other — I have spoken 
 thus explicitly, I say, that I may not be under the necessity of 
 speaking again, for if I speak again, it must not be to Mrs. Felix 
 Lorraine — there is my hand, and now let the Elfin's Well be blotted 
 out of our memories." 
 
 Vivian drove rapidly home, and endeavoured to talk in his usual 
 tone, and with his usual spirit ; but his companion could not be 
 excited. Once, ay twice, she pressed his hand, and as he assisted 
 her from the phaeton, she murmured something like a — blessing. 
 She ran up stairs immediately. Vivian had to give some direc- 
 tions about the ponies; Gypsey was ill, or Fanny had a cold, or 
 something of the kind, and so he was detained for about a quarter 
 of an hour before the house, speaking most learnedly to grooms, 
 and consulting on cases with a skilled gravity worthy of Professor 
 Coleman. 
 
 When he entered the parlour he found the luncheon prepared, 
 and Mrs. Felix pressed him very earnestly to take some refresh- 
 
 7 
 
98 VIVIAN GEEY. 
 
 ment. He was indeed wearied, and agreed to take a glass of hock 
 and seltzer. 
 
 " Let me mix it for you," said Mrs. Felix ; " do you like 
 sugar?" 
 
 Tired with his drive, Vivian Grey was leaning on the mantel-piece, 
 with his eyes vacantly gazing on the looking-glass, which rested 
 on the marble slab. It was by pure accident that, reflected in the 
 mirror, he distinctly beheld Mrs. Felix Lorraine open a small silver 
 box, and throw some powder into the tumbler which she was pre- 
 paring for him. She was leaning down, with her back almost 
 turned to the glass, but still Vivian saw it — distinctly. A sickness 
 came over him, and ere he could recover himself, his Hebe tapped 
 him on the shoulder — 
 
 " Here, drink, drink while it is effervescent." 
 
 " 1 cannot drink," said Vivian, " I am not thirsty — I am too 
 hot — I am anything " 
 
 " How foolish you are! It will be quite spoiled." 
 
 " No, no, the dog shall have it. Here, Fidele, you look thirsty 
 enough — come here " 
 
 " Mr. Grey, I do not mix tumblers for dogs," said the lady, 
 rather agitated : " if you will not take it," and she held it once 
 more before him, "here it goes for ever." So saying, she 
 emptied the tumbler into a large globe of glass, in which some gold 
 and silver tish were swimming their endless rounds. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 This last specimen of Mrs. Felix Lorraine was somewhat too 
 much, even for the steeled nerves of Vivian Grey, and he sought 
 his chamber for relief. 
 
 " Is it possible ? Can I believe my senses ? Or has some 
 demon, as we read of in old tales, mocked me in a magic mirror ? 
 I can believe anything. — Oh ! my heart is very sick ! I once 
 imagined, that I was using this woman for my purpose. Is it pos- 
 sible, that aught of good can come to one who is forced to make 
 use of such evil instruments as these ? A horrible tliought some- 
 times comes over my spirit. I fancy, that in this mysterious 
 foreigner, that in this woman, I have met a kind of double of 
 myself. The same wonderful knowledge of the human mind, the 
 same sweetness of voice, the same miraculous management which 
 has brought us both under tlie same roof: yet do I find her the 
 most abandoned of all beings ; a creature guilty of that which, 
 even in this guilty age, I thought was obsolete. And is it possible 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 99 
 
 thnt I am like her ? that I can resemble lier ? that even the inde- 
 finite shadow of my most unhallowed thought, can, for a moment, 
 be as vile as her righteousness ? O, God ! the system of my ex- 
 istence seems to stop — I cannot breathe." He flung himself upon 
 his bed, and felt for a moment as if he had quaffed the poisoned 
 draft so lately offered. 
 
 " It is not so — it cannot be so — it shall not be so ! In seeking 
 the Marquess, I was unquestionably impelled by a mere feeling of 
 self-interest ; but I have advised him to no course of action, in 
 which his welfare is not equally consulted with my own. In- 
 deed, if not principle, interest would make me act faithfully to- 
 wards him, for my fortunes are bound up in his. But am I 
 entitled— I, who can lose nothing; am I entitled to play with 
 other men's fortunes ? Am I, all this time, deceiving myself with 
 some wretched sophistry ? Am I then an intellectual Don Juan, 
 reckless of human minds, as he was of human bodies — a spiritual 
 libertine ? But why this wild declamation ? Whatever I have done, 
 it is too late to recede ; even this very moment, delay is destruc- 
 tion, for now, it is not a question as to the ultimate pros- 
 perity of our worldly prospects, but the immediate safety of 
 our very bodies. Poison! O, God! O, God! Away with 
 all fear — all repentance — all thought of past — all reckoning 
 of future. If I be the Juan that I fancied myself, then. Heaven 
 be praised ! I have a confidante in all my trouble ; the most 
 faithful of counsellers ; the craftiest of valets ; a Leporello often 
 tried, and never found wanting — my own good mind. And now, 
 thou female fiend ! the battle is to the strongest ; and I see right 
 well, that the struggle between two such spirits will be a long and 
 a fearful one. Woe, I say, to the vanquished! You must be 
 dealt with by arts, which even yourself cannot conceive. Your 
 boasted knowledge of human nature shall not again stand you in 
 stead ; for, mark me, from henceforward, Vivian Grey's conduct 
 towards you shall have no precedent in human nature." 
 
 As Vivian re-entered the drawing-room, he met a servant car- 
 rying in the globe of gold and silver fishes. 
 
 " What, still in your pelisse, Mrs. Lorraine ! " said Vivian. " Xay, 
 I hardly wonder at it, for surely, a prettier pelisse never yet fitted 
 prettier form. You have certainly a most admirable taste in 
 dress; and this the more surprises me, for it is generally your 
 plain personage that is the most recherche in frills and fans 
 and flounces." 
 
 The lady smiled. 
 
 " Oh ! by-the-bye," continued her companion, " I have a letter 
 from Cleveland this morning. I wonder how any misunderstanding 
 
100 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 could possibly bave existed between you, for be speaks of you in 
 such terms." 
 
 " What does he say ?" was the quick question. 
 
 " Oh ! what does he say ? " drawled out Virian ; and he yawned, 
 and was most provokingly uncommunicative. 
 
 " Come, come, Mr. Grey, do tell me." 
 
 " Oh ! tell you — certainly. Come, let us walk together in the 
 conservatory:" so saying, he took the lady by the hand, and they 
 left the room. 
 
 " And now for the letter, Mr. Grey ! " 
 
 " Ay, now for the letter ;" and Vivian slowly drew an epistle 
 from his pocket, and therefrom read some exceedingly sweet 
 passages, which made Mrs. Felix Lorraine's very heart-blood 
 tingle. Considering that Vivian Grey had never in his life 
 received a single letter from. Mr. Cleveland, this was tolerably 
 well : but he was always an admirable iraprovisatore ! " I am sure 
 that when Cleveland comes to town everything will be explained ; 
 I am sure, at least, that it will not be my fault, if you are not the 
 best friends. I am heroic in saying all this, Mrs. Lorraine ; there 
 was a time, when — (and here Vivian seemed so agitated that 
 lie could scarcely proceed) — there was a time when I could have 
 called that man — liar! who would have prophesied that Vivian 
 ■Grey could have assisted another in riveting the affections of 
 Mrs. Felix Lorraine ; — but enough of this. I am a weak inexpe- 
 -rienced boy, and misinterpret, perhaps, that which is merely the 
 .compassionate kindness natural to all women, into a feeling of a 
 higher nature. But, I must learn to contain myself; I really do 
 feel quite ashamed of my behaviour about the tumbler to-day : to 
 act with such unwarrantable unkindness, merely because I had 
 remembered that you once performed the same kind office for 
 Colonel Delmington, was indeed too bad ! " 
 
 " Colonel Delmington is a vain, empty-headed fool. Do not 
 think of him, my dear Mr. Grey," said Mrs. Felix, with a coun- 
 tenance beaming with smiles. 
 
 ' Well, I will not ; and I will try to behave like a man ; like a 
 .man of the world, I should say ; but indeed you must excuse the 
 warm feelings of a youth ; and truly, when I call to mind the first 
 days of our acquaintance, and then remember that our moon-lit 
 walks are gone for ever — and that our " 
 
 "Nay, do not believe so, my dear Vivian; believe me, as I ever 
 shall be, your friend, your " 
 
 " I Avill, I will, my dear, my own Amalia! " 
 
vivrAN QREr'. ICi 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 It was an Autumnal night — the wind was capricious and change- 
 able as a petted beauty, or an Italian greyhound, or a shot silk. 
 Now the breeze blew so fresh, that the white clouds dashed along 
 the sky, as if they bore a band of witches, too late for their Sab- 
 bath meeting — or some other mischief: and now, lulled and soft 
 as the breath of a slumbering infant, you might almost have fan- 
 cied it Midsummer's Eve ; and the bright moon, with her starry 
 court, reigned undisturbed in the light blue sky. Vivian Grey 
 was leaning against an old beech-tree in the most secluded part of 
 the park, and was gazing on the moon. 
 
 O thou bright moon ! thou object of my first love ! thou shalt 
 not escape an invocation, although perchance at this very moment 
 some varlet sonneteer is prating of 'the boy Endymion,' and 'thy 
 silver bow.' Here to thee. Queen of the Night! in whatever 
 name thou most delightest ! Or Bendis, as they hailed thee in 
 rugged Thrace ; or Bubastis, as they howled to thee in myste- 
 rious Egypt ; or Dian, as they sacrificed to thee in gorgeous 
 Rome ; or Artemis, as they sighed to thee on the bright plains of 
 ever glorious Greece ! Why is it that all men gaze on thee ? 
 Why is it, that ail men love thee ? Why is it, that all men wor- 
 ship thee ? 
 
 Shine on, shine on. Sultana of the soul ! the Passions are thy 
 eunuch slaves ; Ambition gazes on thee, and his burning brow is 
 cooled, and his fitful pulse is calm. Grief wanders in her moonlit 
 walk, and sheds no tear ; and when thy crescent smiles, the lustre 
 of Joy's revelling eye is dusked. Quick Anger, in thy light, for- 
 gets revenge ; and even dove-eyed Hope feeds on no future joys, 
 when gazing on the miracle of thy beauty. 
 
 Shine on, shine on ! although a pure Virgin, thou art the mighty 
 mother of all abstraction ! The eye of the weary peasant return- 
 ing from his daily toil, and the rapt gaze of the inspired poet, are 
 alike fixed on thee ; thou stillest the roar of marching armies ; 
 and who can doubt thy influence o'er the waves, who has witnessed 
 the wide Atlantic sleeping under thy silver beams ? 
 
 Shine on, shine on ! they say thou art Earth's satellite ; yet when 
 I do gaze on thee, my thoughts are not of thy Suzerain. They 
 teach us that thy power is a fable, and that thy divinity is a dream. 
 O, thou bright Queen ! I will be no traitor to thy sweet autho- 
 rity; and verily, I will not believe that thy influence o'er our 
 hearts, is, at this moment, less potent than when we worshipped 
 in thy glittering fane of Ephesus, or trembled at the dark horrors 
 of thine Arician rites. Then, hail to thee, Queen of the Night I 
 
102 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 Hail to tliee, Diana, Triformis ; Cyutliia, Ortliia, Taurica ; ever 
 mighty, ever lovely, ever holy ! Hail ! hail ! hail ! 
 
 Were I a metaphysician, I would tell you why Vivian Grey had 
 been gazing two hours on the moon; for I could then present you 
 with a most logical programme of the march of his ideas, since he 
 •whispered his last honied speech in the ear of Mrs. Felix Lor- 
 raine, at dinner time, until this very moment, when he did not 
 even remember that such a being as Mrs. Felix Lorraine breathed. 
 Glory to tJie metaphysician's all perfect theory ! When they can 
 tell me why, at a bright banquet, the thought of death has flashed 
 across my mind, who fear not death ; when they can tell me why, 
 at the burial of my beloved friend, when my very heart-strings 
 seemed bursting, my sorrow has been mocked by the involuntary 
 remembrance of ludicrous adventures, and grotesque tales ; when 
 they can tell me why, in a dark mountain pass, I have thought of 
 an absent woman's eyes ; or why, when in the very act of squeezing 
 the third lime into a beaker of Burgundy cup, my memory hath 
 been of lean apothecaries, and their vile drugs ; — why then, I say 
 again, glory to the metaphysician's all perfect theory ! and fare 
 you well, sweet world, and you, my merry masters, whom, perhaps, 
 I have studied somewhat too cunningly: nosce teipsum shall be 
 my motto — I will doff my travelling cap, and on with the monk's cowl. 
 
 There are mysterious moments in some men's lives, when the 
 faces of human beings are very agony to them, and when the sound 
 of the human voice is jarring as discordant music. These fits are 
 not the consequence of violent or contending passions : they grow 
 not out of sorrow, or joy, or hope, or fear, or hatred, or despair. 
 For in the hour of affliction, the tones of our fellow-creatures are 
 ravishing as the most delicate lute ; and in the flush moment of 
 joy, where is the smiler who loves not a witness to his revelry, or 
 a listener to his good fortune ? Fear makes us feel our humanity, 
 and then we fly to men, and Hope is the parent of kindness. The 
 misanthrope and the reckless are neither agitated nor agonised. 
 It is in these moments, that men find in Nature that congeniality 
 of spirit, which they seek for, in vain, in their own species. It is 
 in these moments, that we sit by the side of a waterfall, and listen 
 to its music the live-long day: It is in these moments, that we 
 gaze upon the moon. It is in these moments, that Nature becomes 
 our Egeria ; and refreshed and renovated by this beautiful com- 
 munion, we return to the world, better enabled to fight our parts 
 in the hot war of passions, to perform the great duties for which 
 man appears to have been created, — to love, to hate, to slander, 
 and to slay. 
 
 It was past midnight, and Vivian was at a considerable distance 
 from the Chateau. lie proposed entering by a side-door, which 
 
VIVIAN OREY. 103 
 
 led into the billiard-room, and from thence crossing the Long^ 
 Gallery, he could easUy reach his apartment, v.'ithout disturbing 
 any of the household. His way led through the little gate at 
 which he had parted with Mrs. Felix Lorraine ou the first day of 
 their meeting. 
 
 As he softly opened the door which led into the Long Gallery, 
 he found he was not alone : leaning against one of the casements, 
 was a female. Her profile was to Vivian as he entered, and the 
 moon, which shone bright- through the window, lit up a counte- 
 nance, which he might be excused for not immediately recognising 
 as that of ilrs. FelLx Lorraine. She was gazing- stedfastly, but 
 her eye did not seem fixed upon any particular object. Her fea- 
 tures appeared convulsed, but their contortions were not momen- 
 tary, and, pale as death, a hideous grin seemed chiselled on her 
 idiot countenance. 
 
 Vivian scarcely knew whether to stay or to retire. Desirous 
 not to disturb her, he determined not even to breathe; and, 
 as is generally the case, his very exertions to be silent made 
 him nervous ; and to save himself from being stifled, he 
 coughed. 
 
 Mrs. Lorraine immediately started, and stared wildly around 
 her ; and when her eye caught Vivian's, there was a sound in her 
 throat something like the death-rattle. 
 
 " Who are you?" she eagerly asked. 
 
 " A friend, and Vivian Grey." 
 
 "How came you here?" and she rushed forward and wildly 
 seized his hand — and then she muttered to herself, "'tis flesh." 
 
 " I have been playing, I fear, the mooncalf to-night ; and 
 find, that though I am a late watcher, I am not a solitary 
 one." 
 
 Mrs. Lorraine stared earnestly at him, and then she endea- 
 voured to assume her usual expression of countenance ; but the 
 effort waa too much for her. She dropped Vivian's arm, and 
 buried her face in her own hands. Vivian was retiring, when 
 she again looked up. "' Where are you going ?" she asked, with 
 a quick voice. 
 
 " To sleep — as I would advise all : 'tis much past midnight." 
 
 " You say not the truth. The brightness of your eye belies the 
 sentence of your tongue. You are not for sleep." 
 
 " Pardon me, dear Mrs. Lorraine, I really have been ya^vning 
 for the last hour," said Vivian, and he moved on. 
 
 "You are speaking to one who takes her answer from the 
 eye, which does not deceive, and from the speaking lineaments of 
 the face, which are Truth's witnesses. Keep your voice for those 
 who can credit man's words. You will go, theu ? What ! are 
 
104 VIVIAN GREr. 
 
 you afraid of a womau, because ' 'tis past midnight,' and you are 
 in an old gallery?" 
 
 " Fear, Mrs. Lorraine, is not a word in my vocabulary." 
 
 " The words in your vocabulary are few, boy ! as are the years 
 of your age. He who sent you here this night, sent you here not 
 to slumber. Come hither ! " and she led Vivian to the window : 
 "what see you?" 
 
 " I see Nature at rest, Mrs. Lorraine ; and I would faia follow 
 the example of beasts, birds, and fishes." 
 
 " Yet gaze upon this scene one second. See the distant hills, 
 how beautifully their rich covering is tinted with the moonbeam ! 
 These nearer fir-trees — how radiantly their black skeleton forms 
 are tipped with silver! and the old and thickly-foliaged oaks 
 bathed in light ! and the purple lake reflecting in its lustrous 
 bosom another heaven! Is it not a fair scene ?" 
 
 " Beautiful ! most beautiful ! " 
 
 " Yet, Vivian, where is the being for whom all this beauty ex- 
 isteth ? Where is your mighty creature — Man ? The peasant on 
 his rough couch enjoys, perchance, slavery's only service-money — 
 sweet sleep ; or, waking in the night, curses, at the same time 
 his lot and his lord. And that lord is restless on some downy 
 couch ; his night thoughts, not of this sheeny lake and this bright 
 moon, but of some miserable creation of man's artifice, some mighty 
 nof ling, which Nature knows not of, some oflspring of her bastard 
 child — Society. Why then is Nature loveliest when man looks 
 not on her? For whom, then, Vivian Grey, is this scene so fair?" 
 
 " For poets, lady ; for philosophers ; for all those superior spirits 
 who require some relaxation from the world's toils ; spirits who 
 only commingle with humanity, on the condition that they may 
 sometimes commune with Nature." 
 
 " Superior spirits! say you?" and here they paced the gallery. 
 " When Valerian, first Lord Carabas, raised this fair castle — 
 when, profuse for his posterity, all the genius of Italian art and 
 Italian artists was lavished on this English palace ; when the stuff's 
 and statues, the marbles and the mirrors, the tapestry, and the 
 carvings, and the paintings of Genoa, and Florence, and Venice, 
 and Padua, and Vicenza, were obtained by him at miraculous cost, 
 and with still more miraculous toil ; what think you would have 
 been his sensations, if, wliile his soul was revelling in the futurity 
 of his descendants keeping their state in this splendid pile, some 
 wizard had foretold to liim, that ere tln-ee centuries could elapse, 
 the fortunes of his mighty family would be the sport of two indi- 
 viduals ; one of them, a foreigner unconnected in blood, or con- 
 nected only in hatred ; and the other, a young adventurer alike 
 unconnected with his race, in blood, or in love ; a being, ruling all 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 105 
 
 things by the power of his own genius, and reckless of all conse- 
 quences, save his own prosperity ? If the future had been revealed 
 to my great ancestor, the Lord Valerian, think you, Vivian Grey, 
 that you and I should be walking in this long gallery ?" 
 
 " Really, Mrs. Lorraine, I have been so interested in discovering 
 what people tliiuk in the nineteenth century, that I have had 
 but little time to speculate on the possible opinions of an old 
 gentleman who flourished in the sixteenth." 
 
 "You may sneer, sir; but I ask you, if there are spirits so 
 superior to that of the slumbering Lord of this castle, as those of 
 Vivian Grey and Amalia Lorraine, why may there not be spirits 
 proportionately superior to our own?" 
 
 " If you are keeping me from my bed, Mrs. Lorraine, merely to 
 lecture my conceit by proving that there are in this world wiser 
 heads than that of Vivian Grey, on my honour you are giving 
 yourself a great deal of unnecessary trouble." 
 
 " You will misunderstand me, then, you wilful boy ! " 
 
 " Nay, lady, I will not affect to misunderstand your meaning ; 
 but I recognise, you know full well, no intermediate essence 
 between my own good soul, and that ineffable and omnipotent spirit, 
 in whose existence philosophers and priests alike agree." 
 
 " Omnipotent and ineffable essence ! Leave such words to 
 scholars and to school-boys ! And think you, that such indefinite 
 nothings, such unmeaning' abstractions, can influence beings whose 
 veins are full of blood, bubbling like this ?" And here she grasped 
 Vivian with a feverish hand — " Omnipotent and inefl;ible essence ! 
 Oh! I have lived in a land where every mountain, and every 
 stream, and every wood, and every ruin, has its legend, and its 
 peculiar spirit ; a land, in whose dark forests the midnight hunter, 
 with his spirit-shout, scares the slumbers of the trembling serf; a 
 land, from whose winding rivers the fair-haired Undine welcomes 
 the belated traveller to her fond, and fatal, embrace; and you 
 talk to me of omnipotent and ineffable essences! Miserable 
 mocker ! — It is not true, Vivian Grey ; you are but echoing the 
 world's deceit, and even at this hour of the night you dare not 
 speak as you do think. You worship no omnipotent and ineffable 
 essence — you believe in no omnipotent and ineffable essence ; 
 shrined in the secret chamber of your soul, there is an image, 
 before which you bow down in adoration, and that image is — 
 YOURSELF. And truly when I do gaze upon your radiant eyes," and 
 here the lady's tone became more terrestrial ; " and truly when I 
 do look upon your luxuriant curls," and here the lady's small 
 white hand played like lightning through Vivian's dark hair; 
 " and truly when I do remember the beauty of your all-perfect 
 form, I cannot deem your self-worship a false idolatry," and here 
 
106 VIVIAN GEEY. 
 
 the lady's arras were locked round Vivian's neck, and her head 
 rested on his hosom. 
 
 " Oh ! Amalia ! it would be far better for you to rest here, than 
 to think of that, of which the knowledge is vanity." 
 
 " Vanity !" shrieked Mrs. Lorraine, and she violently loosened 
 her embrace, and extricated herself from the arm which, rather 
 in courtesy than in kindness, had been wound round her delicate 
 ■waist — "Vanity! Oh! if you knew but what I know; Oh! if 
 you had but seen what I have seen;" and here her voice failed 
 her, and she stood motionless in the moonshine, with averted head 
 and outstretched arms. 
 
 " Amaha! this is madness; for Heaven's sake calm yourself!" 
 
 " Calm myself ! Yes, it is madness ; very, very madness ! 'tis 
 the madness of the fascinated bird; 'tis the madness of the 
 murderer who is voluntarily broken on the wheel ; 'tis the mad- 
 ness of the fawn, that gazes with adoration on the lurid glare of 
 the anaconda's eye ; 'tis the madness of woman who flies to the 
 arms of her — Fate ;" and here she sprang like a tigress round 
 Vivian's neck, her long light hair bursting from its bauds, and 
 clustering down her shoulders. 
 
 And here Mas Vivian Grey, at past midnight, in this old gallery, 
 with this wild woman clinging round his neck. The figures in 
 the ancient tapestry looked living in the moon, and immediately 
 opposite him was one compartment of some old mythological 
 tale, in which were represented, grinning, in grim majesty — the 
 Fates. 
 
 The wind now rose again, and the clouds, which had vanished, 
 began to re-assemble in the heavens. As the blue sky was gradu- 
 ally covering, the gigantic figures of Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos, 
 became as gradually dimmer and dimmer, and the grasp of Vivian's 
 fearful burthen looser and looser. At last the moon was entirely 
 hid, the figures of the Fates vanished, and Mrs. Felix Lorraine 
 sank lifeless into his arms. 
 
 Vivian groped his way with difficulty to the nearest window, the 
 very one at which she was leaning when he first entered the 
 gallery. He played with her wild curls; he whispered to her in 
 a voice sweeter than the sweetest serenade ; but she only raised 
 her eyes from his breast, and stared wildly at him, and then clung 
 round his neck with, if possible, a tighter gr<isp. 
 
 For nearly half an hour did Vivian stand leaning against tlio 
 window, witli his mystic and motionless companion. At length 
 the wind again fell: there was a break in the sky, and a single 
 star appeared in the midst of the clouds, surrounded with a little 
 heaven of azure. 
 
 " See there, see there ! " the lady cried, and then she unlocked 
 
VIVIAN GKEY. JOT 
 
 her arms. "What would you give, Vivian Grey, to read that 
 star?" 
 
 " Am I more interested in that star, Amalia, than in any other 
 of the bright host?" asked Vivian with a serious tone, for he 
 thought it necessary to humour his companion. 
 
 " Are you not ? is it not the star of your destiny ?" 
 
 " Are you learned in all the learning of the Chaldeans too ?" 
 
 " Oh, no, no, no!" slowly murmured Mrs. Lorraine, and then 
 she started ; but Vivian seized her arms, and prevented her from 
 again clasping his neck. 
 
 "I must keep these pretty hands close prisoners," he said, 
 smiling, " unless you promise to behave with more moderation. 
 Come, my Amalia ! you shall be my instructress ! Why am I so 
 interested in this brilliant star?" and holding her hands in one 
 of his, he wound his arm round her waist, and whispered lier such 
 words, as he thought might calm her troubled spirit. The wild- 
 ness of her eyes gradually gave way ; at length, she raised them 
 to Vivian with a look of meek tenderness, and her head sank upon 
 his breast. 
 
 " It shines, it shines, it shines, Vivian ! " she softly whispered, 
 " glory to thee, and woe to me ! Nay, you need not hold my hands, 
 I will not harm you. I cannot — 'tis no use. O, Vivian! when 
 we first met, how little did I know to whom I pledged myself!" 
 
 " Amalia, forget these wild fancies, estrange yourself from the 
 wild belief which has exercised so baneful an influence, not only 
 over your mind, but over the very soul of the land from which you 
 come. Recognise in me only your friend, and leave the other 
 world to those who value it moi-e, or more deserve it. Does not 
 this fair earth contain sufficient of interest and enjoyment?" 
 
 " O, Vivian ! you speak with a sweet voice, but with a sceptic's 
 spirit. You know not what I know." 
 
 " Tell me, then, my Amalia ; let me share your secrets, provided 
 they be your sorrows." 
 
 " Almost within this hour, and in this park, there has happened 
 that — which " and here her voice died, and she looked fear- 
 fully round her. 
 
 " Nay, fear not ; no one can harm you here, no one shall harm 
 you. Rest upon me, and tell me all thy grief." 
 
 " I dare not — I cannot tell you." 
 
 « Nay, thou shalt." 
 
 " I cannot speak, your eye scares me. Are you mocking me ? 
 I cannot speak if you look so at me." 
 
 " I will not look on you ; I will gaze on yonder star. Now, 
 speak on." 
 
 " O, Vivian, there is a custom in ray native laud — the world 
 
108 VIVIAN GKEr. 
 
 calls it an unhallowed one ; you, in your proud spirit, will call it a 
 vain one. But you would not deem it vain, if you were the 
 woman now resting on your bosom. At certain hours of particular 
 nights, and with peculiar ceremonies, which I need not here 
 mention — we do believe, that in a lake or other standing water, 
 fate reveals itself to the solitary votary. O, Vivian, I have been 
 too long a searcher after this fearful science ; and this very night, 
 agitated in spirit, I sought yon water. The wind was in the 
 right direction, and everything concurred in favouring a propitious 
 divination. I knelt down to gaze on the lake. I had always 
 been accustomed to view my own figure performing some future 
 action, or engaged in some future scene of ray life. I gazed, but 
 I saw nothing but a brilliant star. I looked up into the heavens, 
 but the star was not there, and the clouds were driving quick 
 across the sky. More than usually agitated by this singular 
 occurrence, I gazed once more ; and just at the moment, when 
 with breathless and fearful expectation I waited the revelation of 
 my immediate destiny, there flitted a figure across the water. It 
 was there only for the breathing of a second, and as it passed it 
 mocked me." Here Mrs. Lorraine writhed in Vivian's arras ; her 
 features were moulded in the same unnatural expression as when 
 he first entered the gallery, and the hideous grin was again 
 sculptured on her countenance. Her whole frame was in such a 
 state of agitation, that she rose up and down in Vivian's arms; 
 and it was only with the exertion of his whole strength, that he 
 could retain her. 
 
 *' Why, Amalia — this — this was nothing — your own figure." 
 
 •' No, not my own — it was yours ! " 
 
 Uttering a piercing shriek, which echoed through the winding 
 gallery, she swooned. 
 
 Vivian gazed on her in a state of momentary stupefaction, foi 
 the extraordinary scene had begun to influence his own nerves. 
 And now he heard the tread of distant feet, and a light shone 
 through the key-hole of the nearest door. The fearful shriek had 
 alarmed some of the household. What was to be done ? In 
 desperation Vivian caught the lady up in his arms, and dashing 
 out of an opposite door bore her to her chamber. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 What is this chapter to be about? Come, I am inclined to be 
 courteous ! You shall choose the subject of it. Wh.it shall it be, 
 sentiment or scandal ? a love scene, or a lav-sermon ? You will 
 
VIVIAN GEEY. 109 
 
 not choose ? Then we must open the note which Vivian, in the 
 morning, found on his pillow. 
 
 " Did you hear the horrid shriek last night ? It must have dis- 
 turbed every one. I think it must have been one of the South 
 American birds, which Captain Tropic gave the Marchioness. 
 Do not they sometimes favour the world with these noctm-nal 
 shriekiugs ? Is not there a passage in Spix apropos to this ? 
 
 « A " 
 
 "Did you hear the shriek last night, Mr. Grey?" asked the 
 Marchioness, as Vivian entered the breakfast-room. 
 
 " Oh, yes! Mr. Grey, did you hear the shriek?" asked Miss 
 Graves. 
 
 "Who did not?" 
 
 " What could it be ? " said the Marchioness. 
 
 " What could it be ? " said Miss Graves. 
 
 " What should it be — a cat in a gutter, or a sick cow, or a toad 
 dying to be devoured. Miss Graves." 
 
 Always snub toadeys and led captains. It is only your green- 
 horns who endeavour to make their way by fawning and cringing 
 to every member of the establishment. It is a miserable mis- 
 take. No one likes his dependants to be treated with respect, 
 for such treatment affords an unpleasant contrast to his own con- 
 duct. Besides, it makes the toadey's blood unruly. There are 
 three pei^ons, mind you, to be attended to : my lord, or my lady, 
 as the case may be (usually the latter), the pet daughter, and the 
 pet dog. I throw out these hints en passant, for my principal ob- 
 jects in writing this work are to amuse myself, and to instruct 
 society. In some future book, probably the twentieth or twenty- 
 fifth, when the plot begins to wear threadbare, and we can afford a 
 digression, I may give a chapter on Domestic Tactics. 
 
 " My dear Marchioness," continued Vivian, " see there, I have 
 kept my promise, there is your bracelet. How is Julie to- 
 day?" 
 
 " Poor dear, I hope she is better." 
 
 " Oh ! yes, poor Julie ! I think she is better." 
 
 " I do not know that. Miss Graves," said her Ladyship, some- 
 what tartly, not at all approving of a toadey thinking. " I am 
 afraid that scream last night must have disturbed her. O dear 
 Mr. Grey, I am afraid she will be ill again." 
 
 Miss Graves looked mournful, and lifted up her eyes and hands 
 to Heaven, but did not dare to speak this time. 
 
 " I thought she looked a little heavy about the eyes this morn- 
 ing," said the Marchioness, apparently very agitated ; " and I have 
 heard from Eglamour this post ; he is not well too — I tliink every 
 
110 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 body is ilJ now — he has caught a fever going to see the ruins 
 of Psestum ; I wonder why people go to see ruins ! " 
 
 " I wonder, indeed," said Miss Graves ; " I never could see 
 anything in a ruin." 
 
 " 0, Mr. Grey ! " continued the Marchioness, " I really am 
 afraid Julie is going to be very ill." 
 
 " Let Miss Graves pull her tail, and give her a little mustard 
 seed: she will be better to-morrow." 
 
 " Remember that, Miss Graves." 
 
 «0h! y-e-s, myLady!" 
 
 " Mrs. Felix," said the Marchioness, as that lady entered the 
 room, " you are late to-day ; I always reckon uuon you as a sup- 
 porter of an early breakfast at Desir." 
 
 "I have been half round the park." 
 
 " Did you hear the scream, Mrs. Felix ?" 
 
 "Do you know what it was, Marchioness?" 
 
 «No— do you?" 
 
 " See the reward of early rising, and a walk before breakfast. 
 It was one of your new American birds, and it has half torn down 
 your aviary." 
 
 " One of the new Americans ! O, the naughty thing ! and 
 has it broken the new fancy wirework ? " 
 
 Here a little odd-lookiug, snuffy old man, with a brown scratch 
 wig, who had been very busily employed the whole breakfast-time 
 with a cold game pie, the bones of which Vivian observed him 
 most scientifically pick and polish, laid down his knife and fork, 
 and addressed the Marchioness witli an air of great interest. 
 
 " Pray, will your Ladyship have the goodness to inform me what 
 bird this is?" 
 
 The Marchioness looked astounded at any one presuming to ask 
 her a question ; and then she drawled, " Mr. Grey, you know 
 everything — tell this gentleman what some bird is." 
 
 Now this gentleman was Mr. Mackaw, the most celebrated orni- 
 thologist extant, and who had written a treatise on Brazilian par- 
 roquets, in three volumes folio. He had arrived late at the Cha- 
 teau the preceding night, and, although he had the honour of 
 presenting liis letter of introduction to the Marquess, this morning 
 was the first time he had been seen by any of the party present, 
 who were of course profoundly ignorant of his character. 
 
 " Oh ! we were talking of sonic South-American bird given to 
 the Marchioness by the famous Captain Tropic; you know him 
 perhaps, Bolivar's brother-in-law, or aide-de-camp, or something of 
 that kind ; — and which screams ao dreadfully at night, that the 
 whole family is disturbed. The Chowchowtow it is called — is not 
 it, Mrs. Lorraine ?" 
 
VIVIAN GEET. Ill 
 
 " The Chowchowtow ! " said Mr. Mackaw ; " I don't know it by 
 that name." 
 
 " Do not you ? I dare say we shall find an account of it in 
 Spix ; however," said Vivian, rising, and taking a volume from the 
 book-case ; " ay! here it is — I will read it to you. 
 
 " ' The Chowchowtow is about five feet seven inches in height, 
 from the point of the bill, to the extreniity of the claws. Its 
 plumage is of a dingy, yellowish white : its form is elegant, and 
 in its movements, and action, a certain pleasing and graceful dig- 
 nity is observable ; but its head is by no means worthy of the rest 
 of its frame ; and the expression of its eye is indicative of the 
 cunning and treachery of its character. The habits of this bird 
 are peculiar : occasionally most easily domesticated, it is appa- 
 rently sensible of the slightest kindness ; but its regard cannot be 
 depended upon, and for the slightest inducement, or with the 
 least irritation, it will fly at its feeder. At other times, it seeks 
 perfect solitude, and can only be captured with the utmost skill 
 and perseverance. It generally feeds three times a-day, but its 
 appetite is not rapacious : it sleeps little ; is usually on the wing 
 at sunrise, and proves that it slumbers but little in the night by 
 its nocturnal and thrilling shrieks.' 
 
 " What an extraordinary bird ! Is that the bird you meant, 
 Mrs. Felix Lorraine ? " 
 
 Mr. Mackaw was restless the whole time that Vivian was reading 
 this interesting passage. At last, he burst forth with an immense 
 deal of science, and a great want of construction — a want which 
 scientific men often experience, always excepting those mealy- 
 mouthed professors who lecture " at the Royal," and get patron- 
 ised by the blues — ^the Lavoisiers of May Fair ! 
 
 " Chowchowtow, my Lady ! — five feet seven inches high ! Bra- 
 zilian bird ! When I just remind your Ladyship, that the height 
 of the tallest bird to be found in Brazil, — and in mentioning this 
 fact, I mention nothing hypothetical, — the tallest bird does not 
 stand higher than four feet nine. Chowchowtow ! Dr. Spix is a 
 name — accurate traveller — don't remember the passage — most sin- 
 gular bird ! Chowchowtow ! don't know it by that name. Perhaps 
 your Ladyship is not aware — I think you called that gentleman 
 Mr. Grey — perhaps Mr. Grey is not aware, that I am Mr. Mackaw 
 — I arrived late here last night — whose work in three volumes 
 folio, on Brazilian Parroquets, although I had the honour of see- 
 ing his Lordship, is, I trust, a sufficient evidence that I am not 
 speaking at random on this subject ; and consequently, from the 
 lateness of the hour, could not have the honour of being intro- 
 duced to your Ladyship." 
 
 " Mr. Mackaw ! " thought Vivian. " The deuce you are ! Oh ! 
 
112 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 why did not I say a Columbian cassowary, or a Peruvian penguin, 
 or a Chilian condor, or a Guatemalan goose, or a Mexican mastard 
 — anything but Brazilian. O ! unfortunate Vivian Grey ! " 
 
 The Marchioness, who was quite overcome with this scientific 
 appeal, raised her large, beautiful, sleepy eyes, from a delicious 
 compound of French roll and new milk, which she was working 
 up in a Sevre saucer for Julie; and then, as usual, looked to 
 Vivian for assistance. 
 
 " Mr. Grey ! You know everything. Tell Mr. Mackaw about 
 a bird." 
 
 " Is there any point on which you differ from Spix in his account 
 of the Chowchowtow, Mr. Mackaw?" 
 
 " My dear sir, I don't follow him at all. Dr. Spix is a most 
 excellent man ; a most accurate traveller — quite a name — but to 
 be sure, I've only read liis work in our own tongue ; and I fear 
 from the passage you have just quoted — five feet seven inches 
 high! in Brazil! it must be an imperfect version. I say, that 
 four feet nine is the greatest height I know. I don't speak with- 
 out some foundation for my statement. The only bird I know 
 above that height is the Paraguay cassowary ; which, to be sure, 
 is sometimes found in Bi-azil. But the description of your bird, 
 Mr. Grey, does not answer that at all. I ought to know. 1 do 
 not speak at random. The only living specimen of that extraor- 
 dinary bird, the Paraguay cassowary, in this country, is in my 
 possession. It was sent me by Bompland; and was given to him 
 by the dictator of Paraguay himself. I call it, in compliment, 
 Doctor Francia. I arrived here so late last night — only saw his 
 Lordship — or I would have had it on the lawn this morning." 
 
 " Oh, tlien, Mr. Mackaw," said Vivian, " that was the bird which 
 screamed last night ! " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! Oh, yes ! Mr. Mackaw," said Mrs. Felix Lor- 
 raine. 
 
 " Lady Carabas ! " continued Vivian, " it is found out. It is 
 Mr. Mackaw's particular friend, his family physician, whom he 
 always travels Avith, that awoke us all last night." 
 
 " Is he a foreigner?" asked the Marchioness, looking up. 
 
 " My dear Mr. Grey, impossible ! the Doctor never screams." 
 
 « Oh ! Mr. Mackaw, Mr. Mackaw ! " said Vivian. 
 
 «0h! Mr. :Mackaw, Mr. Mackaw!" said Mrs. Felix Lor- 
 raine. 
 
 " I tell you he never screams," reiterated the man of science, 
 " I tell you he can't scream, he's muzzled." 
 
 " Oh, tlien, it nnist have been the Cliowchowtow." 
 
 "Yes; I think it must have been the Chowchowtow." 
 
 " I should very much like to hear Spix's description again," 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 113 
 
 said Mr. Mackaw, " only I fear it is troubling you too much, Mr. 
 Grey." 
 
 " Read it yourself, my dear sir," said Vivian, putting the book 
 into his hand, which was the third volume of Tremaine. 
 
 Mr. Mackaw looked at the volume, and turned it over, and 
 sideways, and upside downwards : the brain of a man who has 
 written three folios on parroquets is soon puzzled. At first, he 
 thought the book was a novel ; but then, an essay on predestina- 
 tion, under the title of Memoirs of a Man of Refinement, rather 
 puzzled him ; then he mistook it for an Oxford rejmnt of Pearson 
 ou the Creed ; and then he stumbled on rather a warm scene in 
 an old Chateau in the South of France. 
 
 Before Mr. Mackaw could gain the power of speech, the door 
 opened, and entered — who ? — Doctor Francia. 
 
 Mr. Mackaw's travelling companion possessed the awkward ac- 
 complishment of opening doors, and now strutted in, in quest of 
 his beloved master. Affection for Mr. Mackaw was not, however, 
 the only cause which induced this entrance. 
 
 The household of Chateau Desir, unused to cassowarys, had 
 neglected to supply Dr. Francia with his usual breakfast, which 
 consisted of half a dozen pounds of rump steaks, a couple of bars 
 of hard iron, some pig lead, and brown stout. The consequence 
 was, the Dictator was sadly famished. 
 
 All the ladies screamed ; and then Mrs. Felix Lorraine admired 
 the Doctor's violet neck, and the Marchioness looked with an 
 anxious eye on Julie, and Miss Graves, as in duty bound, with an 
 anxious eye on the Marchioness. 
 
 There stood the Doctor, quite still, with his large yellow eye 
 fixed on Mr. Mackaw. At length, he perceived the cold pasty, and 
 his little black wings began to flutter on the surface of his im- 
 mense body. 
 
 " Che, che, che, che ! " said the ornithologist, who did not like 
 the symptoms at all : " Che, che, che, che, — don't be frightened, 
 ladies ! you see he's muzzled — che, che, che, che, — now, my dear 
 doctor, now, now, now, Franky, Franky, Frauky, now go away, go 
 away, that's a dear doctor — che, che, che, che ! " 
 
 But the large yellow eye grew more flaming and fiery, and the 
 little black wings grew larger and larger ; and now the left leg 
 ■was dashed to and fro, with a fearful agitation. Mackaw looked 
 agonised. — What a whirr ! — Francia is on the table ! — All shriek, 
 the chairs tumble over the ottomans — the Sevre china is in a thou- 
 sand pieces — the muzzle is torn off and thrown at Miss Graves ; 
 Mackaw's wig is dashed in the clotted cream, and devoured on the 
 spot ; and the contents of the boiling urn are poured over the beau- 
 teous and beloved Julie ! 
 
 8 
 
114 VIVJAN GEKY. 
 
 CHAPTER VITI. 
 
 The Honottrable Cy>'thia Coraxowx, to Vivian Grey, Esq. 
 
 "Alburies, Oct. 18— 
 "Dear Grey, 
 
 " We have now been at Alburies foi* a fortnight. Nothing can 
 be more delightful. Here is everybody in the world that I wish 
 to see, except yourself. The Knightous, with as many outriders 
 as usual : — Lady Julia and myself are great allies ; I like her 
 amazingly. The Marquess of Grandgout arrived here last week, 
 with a most delicious party ; all the men who write John Bull. I 
 was rather disappointed at the first sight of Stanislaus Hoax. I 
 had expected, I do not know why, something juvenile, and squib- 
 bish — when lo ! I was introduced to a corpulent individual, with 
 his coat buttoned up to his chin, looking dull, gentlemanlike, and 
 apoplectic. However, on acquaintance, he came out quite rich — 
 sings delightfully, and improvises like a prophet — ten thousand 
 times more entertaining than Pistrucci. We are sworn friends ; 
 and I know all the secret history of John Bull. There is not much, 
 to be sure, that you did not tell me yourself ; but still there are some 
 things. I must not trust them, however, to paper, and therefore 
 pray dash down to Alburies immediately ; I shall be most happy 
 to introduce you to Lord Devildrain. There icas an interview. 
 What think you of that ? Stanislaus told me all, circumstantially, 
 and after dinner — I do not doubt that it is quite true. What would 
 you give for the secret history of the 'rather yellow, rather yel- 
 low,' chanson. I dare not tell it you. It came from a quarter that 
 will quite astound you, and in a very elegant, small, female hand. 
 You remember Lambton did stir very awkwardly in the Lisbon 
 business. Stanislaus wrote all the songs that appeared in the tirst 
 number, except that ; but he never wrote a single line of prose 
 for the first three months : it all came from Vivida Vis. 
 • " 1 like the Marquess of Grandgout so much ! I hope he will be 
 elevated in the peerage : — he looks as if he wanted it so ! Poor 
 dear man ! 
 
 " Oh ! do you know I have discovered a liaison between Bull 
 aud Blackwood. I am to be in the next Noctes ; I forget the 
 words of the chorus exactly, but Courtown is to rhyme with port 
 down, or something of that kind, and then they are to dash their 
 glasses over their heads, give three cheers, and adjourn to whiskey- 
 toddy, and the Clialdee chamber. How dcliglitful! 
 
 " The Prima Donnas are at Cheltenham, looking most respect- 
 able. Do you ever see the Age ? It is not proper for me to take 
 it in. Pray send me down your numbers, and tell me all about 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 115 
 
 it; tliat's a dear. Is it tnie that his Lordship paragraphises a 
 little? 
 
 " I have not heai-d from Ernest Clay, which I think very odd. 
 If you write to him, mention this, and tell him to send me word 
 how Dormer Stanhope behaves at mess. I understand there has 
 been a melee, not much — merely a rouctte: do get it all out of 
 him. 
 
 " Colonel Delmington is at Cheltenham, with the most knowing 
 beard you can possibly conceive ; Lady Julia rather patronises him. 
 Lady Doubtful has been turned out of the rooms j fifty challenges 
 in consequence, and one duel ; missed fire of course. 
 
 " I have heard from Alhambra ; he has been wandering about in 
 all directions. He has been to the Lakes, and is now at Edinburgh. 
 He likes Southey. He gave the laureate a quantity of hints for 
 his next volume of the Peninsular War, but does not speak very 
 warmly of Wordsworth : gentlemanly man, but only reads his own 
 poetry. 
 
 " Here has been a cousin of yours about us ; a young barrister 
 going the circuit ; by name, Hargrave Grey. The name attracted 
 my notice, and due inquiries having been made, and satisfactorily 
 answered, I patronised the limb of law. Fortunate for him! I 
 got him to all the fancy balls and pic-nics that were going on. He 
 was in heaven for a fortnight, and at length, having overstayed his 
 time, he left us, also leaving his bag and only brief behind him* 
 They say he is ruiued for life. Write soon. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Cynthia Couhtown." 
 
 Ekn£st Clay, Esq., to Vivian Grey, Esq. 
 
 "October, 18— 
 "Dear Grey! 
 
 " I am sick of key-bugles and country balls ! All the girls in the 
 town are in love Avitli me — or my foraging cap. I am very much 
 obliged to you for your letter to Kennet, which procured every- 
 thing I wanted. The family turned out bores, as you had prepared 
 me. I never met such a clever family in my life ; the fixther is 
 summoning up courage to favour the world with a volume of ser- 
 mons ; and Isabella Kennet most satisfactorily proved to me, after 
 an argument of two hours, wliich, for courtesy's sake, I fought very 
 manfully, that Sir Walter Scott was not the author of Waverley ; 
 and then she vowed, as I have heard fifty young literary ladies vow 
 before, that she had 'seen the Antiquary in manuscript.' 
 
 " There has been a slight row to diversify the monotony of our 
 military life. Young Premium, the son of the celebrated loan- 
 monger, has bought in ; and Dormer Stanhope, and one or two 
 
116 VIVTAN GREY. 
 
 others equally fresh, immediately anticipated another Battier busi- 
 ness : but, with the greatest desire to make a fool of myself, I have 
 a natural repugnance to mimicking the foolery of others : so with 
 some little exertion, and very fortunately for young Premium, I got 
 the Tenth voted vulgar, on the score of curiosity, and we were civil 
 to the man. As it turned out, it was all very well, for Premium 
 is a quiet, gentlemanlike fellow enough, and exceedingly useful. 
 He will keep extra grooms for the whole mess, if they want it. 
 He is very grateful to me for what does not deserve any gratitude, 
 and for what gave me no trouble ; for I did not defend him from 
 any feeling of kindness. And both the Mounteneys, and young 
 Stapylton Toad, and Augustus, being in the regiment, why, I have 
 very little trouble in commanding a majority, if it come to a 
 division. 
 
 " I dined the other day at old Premium's, who lives near this 
 town in a magnificent old hall ; which, however, is not nearly splen- 
 did enough for a man who is the creditor of every nation from 
 California to China ; and, consequently, the great Mr. Stucco is 
 building a plaster castle for him in another part of the park. 
 Glad am I enougli, that I was prevailed upon to patronise the Pre- 
 mium ; for I think, I seldom witnessed a more amusing scene than 
 I did the day I dined there. 
 
 " I was ushered through an actual street of servitors, whos© 
 liveries were really cloth of gold, and whose elaborately powdered 
 heads would not have disgraced the most ancient mansion in St. 
 James' Square, into a large and very crowded saloon. I was, of 
 course, received with the most miraculous consideration; and the 
 ear of Mrs. Premium seemed to dwell upon the jingling of my 
 spurs, (for I am adjutant,) as upon the most exquisite music. It 
 was bond fide evidence of 'the officers being there.' 
 
 " Premium is a short, but by no means vulgar-looking man, about 
 fifty, with a high forehead covered with wrinkles, and with eyes 
 deep sunk in his head. I never met a man of apparently less 
 bustle, and of a cooler temperament. He was an object of ob- 
 servation from his very unobtrusiveness. There were, I imme- 
 diately perceived, a great number of foreigners in the room. Tliey 
 looked much too knowing for Arguelles and Co., and I soon found 
 that they were members of the different embassies, or missions of 
 the various Governments, to whose infant existence Premium is 
 foster-father. There were two very striking figures in Oriental 
 costume, who were shown to me as the Greek Deputies — not that 
 you are to imagine that they always appear in this picturesque 
 dress. It was only as a particular fiivour, and to please Miss Pre- 
 mium — there. Grey, my boy! there is a quarry! — that the illus- 
 trious envoys appeared habited this day in their national costume. 
 
VIVIAN GREY, 117 
 
 "You would have enjoyed the scene. In one part of the room 
 was a naval officer, just hot from the mines of Mexico, and lec- 
 turing eloquently on the passing of the Coi-dillera. In another 
 was a man of science, dilating on the miraculous powers of a newly- 
 discovered amalgamation process, to a knot of merchants, who, with 
 bent brows and eager eyes, were already forming a Company for its 
 adoption. Here floated the latest anecdote of Bolivar ; and there 
 a murmur of some new movement of Cochraue's. And then the 
 perpetual babble about ' rising states,' and ' new loans,' and ' en- 
 lightened views,' and 'juncture of the two oceans,' and ' liberal 
 principles,' and 'steam boats to Mexico;' and the earnest look 
 which every one had in the room. How dififerent to the vacant 
 gaze that we have been accustomed to ! I was really particularly 
 struck by the circumstance. Every one at Premium's looked full 
 of some great plan ; as if the fate of empires was on his very 
 breath. I hardly knew whether they were most like conspirators, 
 or gamblers, or the lions of a public dinner, conscious of an uni- 
 versal gaze, and consequently looking proportionately interesting. 
 One circumstance particularly struck me : as I was watching the 
 acute countenance of an individual, who, young Premium informed 
 me, was the Chilian minister, and who was listening with great at- 
 tention to a dissertation from Captain Tropic, tlie celebrated 
 traveller, on the feasibility of a railroad over the Andes — I ob- 
 served a very great sensation among all those around me ; every 
 one shifting and shuffling, and staring, and assisting in that curious 
 and confusing ceremony called making way. Even Premium ap- 
 peared a little excited, when he came forward with a smile on his 
 face to receive an individual, apparently a foreigner, and who 
 stepped on with great though gracious dignity. Being very curi- 
 ous to know wlio this great man was, I found that this was an 
 ambassador — the representative of a recognised state. 
 
 '• 'Pon my honour, when I saw all this, I could not refrain from 
 moralising on the magic of wealth ; and when I just remembered 
 the embryo plot of some young Hussar Officers to ciii the son of 
 the magician, I rather smiled ; but while I, with even greater re- 
 verence than all others, was making way for his Excellency, I ob- 
 served Mrs. Premium looking at my spurs — ' Farewell Philosophy !'' 
 thought I, ' Puppyism for ever ! ' 
 
 " Dinner was at last announced, and the nice etiquette which 
 was observed between recognised states and non-recognised states 
 was really excessively amusing : not only the ambassador would 
 take precedence of the mere political agent, but his Excellency's 
 private secretary was equally tenacious as to the agent's private 
 secretary. At length we were all seated : — the spacious dining- 
 room was Lung round with portraits of most of the successful' re- 
 
]18 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 volutionary leaders, and over Mr. Premium was suspended a 
 magnificent portrait of Bolivar. If you could but have seen the 
 plate ! By Jove ! I have eaten off the silver of most of the first 
 families in England, yet never in my liie did it enter into my 
 imagination, that it was possible for the most ingenious artist that 
 ever existed, to repeat a crest half so often in a table spoon, as in 
 that of Premium. The crest is a bubble, and really the efiect 
 produced by it is most ludicrous. 
 
 " I was very much struck at table, by the appearance of an indi- 
 vidual who came in very late ; but who was evidently, by his bear- 
 ing, no insignificant personage. He was a tall man, with a long 
 hooked nose, and high cheek bones, and with an eye — (were you 
 ever at the Old Bailey ? there you may see its fellow) ; his com- 
 plexion looked as if it had been accustomed to the breezes of many 
 climes, and his hair, which had once been red, was now silvered, or 
 rather iron-greyed, not by age. Yet there was in his whole bear- 
 ing, in his slightest actions, even in the easy, desperate, air with 
 which he took a glass of wine, an indefinable — sometlnng, (you 
 know what I mean,) which attracted your unremitting attention to 
 him. I was not wrong in my suspicions of his celebrity ; for, as 
 Miss Premium, whom I sat next to, whispered, ' he was quite a lion.' 
 It was Lord Oceanville. What he is after, no one knows. Some 
 say he is going to Greece, others whisper an invasion.of Paraguay, 
 and others of course say other things; perhaps equally correct. 
 I think he is for Greece. I know he is one of the most extra- 
 ordinary men I ever met with. I am getting prosy. Good bye ! 
 Write soon. Any fun going on ? How is Cynthia ? I ought to 
 have written. How is Mrs. Felix Lorraine? she is a deuced odd 
 woman ! 
 
 " Yours faithfully, 
 
 " Ernest Clay." 
 
 Hargrave Grey, Esq., to Vivian Grey, Esq. 
 
 " October, 18— 
 " Dear Vivian, 
 
 " You ought not to expect a letter from me. I cannot conceive 
 why you do not occasionally answer your correspondent's letters, 
 if correspondents they may be called. It is really a most uiu'cii- 
 sonable habit of yours; any one but myself would quarrel with 
 you. 
 
 " A letter from Baker met me at this place, and I find that the 
 whole of that most disagreeable and annoying business is arranged. 
 From the promptitude, skill and energy whicli are apparent in 
 the whole aflair, I suspect I have to thank the very gentleman 
 whom I was just going to quarrel with. You are a good follow. 
 
VIVIAN GREY. lilS 
 
 Vivian, after all. For want of a brief, I sit down to give you a 
 sketch of my adventures on this my first circuit. 
 
 ''■ This ciixuit is a cold and mercantile adventure, and I am dis- 
 appointed in it. Not so either, for I looked for but little to enjoy. 
 Take one day of my life as a specimen ; the rest are mostly alike. 
 The sheriff's trumpets are playing, — one, some tune of which I 
 know nothing, and the other no tune at all. I am obliged to turn 
 out at eight. It is the first day of the Assize, so there is some 
 chance of a brief, being a new place. I push my way into court 
 through files of attorneys, as civil to the rogues as possible, assur- 
 ing them there is plenty of room, though I am at the very moment 
 gasping for breath, wedged in, in a lane of well-lined waistcoats. 
 I get into court, take my place in the quietest corner, and there I 
 sit, and pass other men's fees and briefs like a twopenny postman, 
 only without pay. Well ! 'tis six o'clock — dinner-time — at the 
 bottom of the table — carve for all — speak to none — nobody speaks 
 to me — must wait till last to sum up, and pay the bill. Reach 
 home quite devoured by spleen, after having heard every one 
 abused who happened to be absent. 
 
 " I travelled to this place with Manners, whom I believe you 
 know, and amused myself by getting from him an account of my 
 fellows, anticipating, at the same time, what in fact happened ; — 
 to wit, that I should afterwards get his character from them. It 
 is strange how freely they deal with each other — that is, the person 
 spoken of being away. I would not have had you see our Stan- 
 hope for half a hundred pounds ; your jealousy would have been 
 so excited. To say the truth, we are a little rough, — our mane 
 wants pulling, and our hoofs trimming, but we jog along without 
 performing either operation ; and, by dint of rattling the whip 
 against the splash-board, using all one's persuasion of hand and 
 voice, and jerking the bit in his mouth, we do contrive to get into 
 the circuit town, usually, just about the time that the sheriff and 
 his ^osse comitatus are starting to meet my Lord, the King's Jus- 
 tice : — and that is the worst of it ; for their horses are prancing 
 and pawing coursers just out of the stable, — sleek skins, and smart 
 drivers. We begin to be knocked up just then, and our ap- 
 pearance is the least brilliant of any part of the day. Here I had 
 to pass through a host of these powdered, scented fops ; and the 
 multitude who had assembled to gaze on the nobler exhibition, 
 rather scoffed at our humble vehicle. As Manners had just then 
 been set down to find the inn, and lodging, I could not jump out, 
 and leave our equipage to its fate, so I settled my cravat, and 
 seemed not to mind it — only I did. 
 
 " But I must leave off this nonsense, and attend to his Lord- 
 ship's charge, which is now about to commence. I have not been 
 
120 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 able to get you a single good murder, although I have kept a sharp 
 look out as you desired me ; but there is a chance of a first-rate 
 one at ■ n 
 
 " I am quite delighted with Mr. Justice St. Prose. He is at 
 this moment in a most entertaining passion, preparatory to a 
 ' conscientious' summing up j and in order that his ideas may not 
 be disturbed, he has very liberally ordered the door-keeper to have 
 the door oiled immediately, at his own expense. Now for my Lord, 
 the King's Justice. 
 
 " ' Gentlemen of the Jury ! 
 
 " ' The noise is insufferable — the heat is intolerable — the door- 
 keepers let the people keep shuffling in — the ducks in the corner 
 are going quack, quack, quack — here's a little girl being tried for 
 her life, and the judge can't hear a word that's said. Bring me 
 my black cap, and I'll condemn her to death instantly.' 
 
 " ' You can't, my Lord,' shrieks the infant sinner ; ' it's only for 
 petty larceny ! ' 
 
 " I have just got an invite from the Kearneys, Congratulate 
 me. " Dear Vivian, yours ftiithfully, 
 
 " H.\RGRAVE Grey." 
 
 Lady Scrope to Vivian Grey, Esq. 
 
 "Ormsby Park, Oct. IS— 
 " My dear ViviaNj 
 
 " By desire of Sir Berdmore, I have to request the fulfilment of 
 a promise, upon the hope of which being performed, I have existed 
 through tliis dull month. Pray, my dear Vivian, come to us im- 
 mediately. Ormsby has at present little to offer for your enter- 
 tainment. We have had that unendurable bore. Vivacity Dull, 
 with us for a whole fortnight. A report of the death of the Lord 
 Chancellor, or a rumour of the production of a new tragedy, has 
 carried him up to town ; but whether it be to ask for the seals, or 
 to indite an ingenious prologue to a play which will be condemned 
 the tirst night, I cannot inform you. I am quite sure he is capable 
 of doing cither. However, we shall have other deer in a few 
 days. 
 
 " I believe you have never met the Mounteneys. They liavc 
 never been at Hallesbrooke, since you have been at Desir. They 
 are coming to us immediately. I am sure you will like them very 
 much. Lord jMountcney is one of those kind, easy-minded, accom- 
 plished men, who, after all, are nearly the pleasantest society one 
 ■ever meets. Rather wild in his youth, but with his estate now un- 
 incumbered, and liiinsolf perfectly domestic. His lady is an un- 
 affected, agreeable woman. But it is Caroline Mounteney whom 
 I wish you particularly to meet. She is one of those delicious 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 2*21 
 
 creatures who, in spite of not being married, are actually convers- 
 able. Spirited, without any affectation or brusquerie ; beautiful, 
 and knowing enough to be quite conscious of it ; perfectly accom- 
 plished, and yet never annoying you with tattle about Bochsa, and 
 Konzi de Begnis, and D'Egville. 
 
 " We also expect the Delmonts, tlie most endurable of the 
 Anglo-Italians that I know. Mrs. Delmont is not always dropping 
 her handkerchief like Lady Gusto, as if she expected a miserable 
 cavalier servente to be constantly upon his knees ; or giving those 
 odious expressive looks, which quite destroy my nerves whenever I 
 am under the same roof as that horrible Lady Soprano. There is 
 a little too much talk, to be sure, about Roman churches, and 
 newly-discovered Mosaics, and Abbate Maii, but stUl we cannot 
 expect perfection. There are reports going about that Ernest 
 Clay is either ruined or going to be married. Perhaps both are 
 true. Young Premium has nearly lost his character, by driving a 
 square-built, striped green thing, drawn by one horse. Ernest 
 Clay got him through this terrible affair. What can be the rea- 
 sons of the Sieur Ernest's excessive amiability ? 
 
 " Both the young Mounteneys are witli their regiment, but 
 
 Aubrey Vere is coming to us, and I have half a promise from ; 
 
 but I know you never speak to unmarried men, so why do I men- 
 tion them ? Let me, I beseech you, my dear Vivian, have a few 
 days of you to myself, before Ormsby is full, and before you are 
 introduced to Caroline Mounteney. I did not think it was possible 
 that I could exist so long without seeing you ; but you really must 
 not try me too much, or I shall quarrel with you. I have received 
 all your letters, which are very, very agreeable ; but I think rather, 
 rather impudent. Adieu ! 
 
 " Harriette Scrope," 
 
 Horace Grey, Esq., to Vivian Grey, Esq. 
 
 "Paris, Oct. 18— 
 " My dear Vivian, 
 
 " I have received yours of the 9th, and have read it with mixed 
 feelings of astonishment and sorrow. 
 
 " You are now, my dear son, a member of what is called the 
 great world — society formed on anti-social principles. Apparently 
 you have possessed yourself of the object of your wishes ; but the 
 scenes you live in are very moveable ; the characters you associate 
 with are all masked ; and it will always be doubtful, whether you 
 can retain that long, which has been obtained by some slippery 
 artifice. Vivian, you are a juggler; and the deceptions of your 
 sleight-of-hand tricks depend upon instantaneous motions. 
 
 "When the selfish combine with the selfisli, bethink you how 
 
122 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 many projects are doomed to disappointment ; how many cross 
 interests baffle tlie parties, at the same time joined together 
 without ever uniting. What a mockery is their love ! but how 
 deadly are their hatreds ! All this great society, with whom so 
 young an adventurer has trafficked, abate nothing of their price in 
 the slavery of their service, and the sacrifice of violated feehngs. 
 What sleepless nights has it cost you to win over the disobliged, 
 to conciliate the discontented, to cajole the contumacious ! You 
 may smile at the hollow flatteries, answering to flatteries as hollow, 
 which, like bubbles when they touch, dissolve into nothing ; but 
 tell me, Vivian, what has the self-tormentor felt at the laughing- 
 treacheries, which force a man down into self-contempt ? 
 
 " Is it not obvious, my dear Vivian, that true Fame, and true 
 Happiness, must rest upon the imperishable social afi'ections ? I 
 do not mean that coterie celebrity, which paltry minds accept as 
 fame ; but that which exists independent of the opinions or the 
 intrigues of individuals : nor do I mean that glittering show of 
 perpetual converse with the world, which some miserable wan- 
 , derers call Happiness ; but that which can only be drawn from the 
 sacred and solitary fountain of your own feelings. 
 
 " Active as you have now become in the great scenes of human 
 afi'airs, I would not have you be guided by any fanciful theories of 
 morals, or of human nature. Philosophers have amused them- 
 selves by deciding on human actions by systems ; but, as the>e 
 systems are of the most opposite natures, it is evident that each 
 philosopher, in reflecting his own feelings in the system he has so 
 elaborately formed, has only painted his own character. 
 
 " Do not, therefore, conclude with Hobbes and Mandeville, that 
 man lives in a state of civil warfare with man ; nor with Shaftes- 
 bury, adorn with a poetical philosophy our natural feelings, ilan 
 is neither the vile nor the excellent being which he sometimes 
 imagines himself to be. He does not so much act by system, as 
 by sympathy. If this creature cannot always feel for others, he is 
 doomed to feel for himself; and the vicious are, at least, blessed 
 with the curse of remorse. 
 
 " You are now inspecting one of the worst portions of society 
 in what is called the great world ; (St. Giles' is bad, but of anotlier 
 kind ;) and it may be useful, on the principle that tlie actual sight 
 of brutal ebriety was supposed to have inspired youth with the 
 virtue of temperance ; on the same principle, that the Platonist, in 
 the study of deformity, conceived the beautiful. Let me warn you 
 not to fall into the usual error of youth in fancying that the circle 
 you move in is precisely the world itself. Do not imagine that 
 there are not other beings, whose benevolent principle is governed 
 by finer sympathies, by more generous passions, and by those 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 123 
 
 nobler emotions which really constitute all our public and private 
 virtues. I give you this hint, lest, in your present society, you 
 might suppose these virtues were merely historical. 
 
 " Once more, I must beseech you, not to give loose to any 
 elation of mind. The machinery by which you have attained this 
 unnatural result must be so complicated, that in the very tenth 
 hour you will find yourself stopped in some part where you never 
 counted on an impediment ; and the want of a slight screw, or a little 
 oil, will prevent you from accomplishing your miigiiificent end. 
 
 " We are, and have been, very dull here. There is every pro- 
 bability of ]Madame de Genlis writing more volumes than ever. I 
 called on the old lady, and was quite amused with the enthusiasm 
 of her imbecility. Chateaubriand is getting what you call a bore ; 
 and the whole city is mad about a new opera by Boieldieu. Your 
 mother sends her love, and desires me to say, that the salmi of 
 woodcocks, a la Lucullus, which you write about, does not diifer 
 from the practice here in vogue. How does your cousin Hargrave 
 prosper on his circuit ? The Delmingtous are here, which makes 
 it very pleasant for your mother, as well as for myself; for it 
 allows me to hunt over the old bookshops at my leisure. There 
 are no new books worth sending you, or they would accompany 
 this ; but I would recommend you to get Meyer's new volume from 
 Treiittel and Wurtz, and continue to make notes as you read it. 
 Give my compliments to the Marquess, and believe me, 
 
 " Your affectionate father, 
 
 " Horace Grey." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 It was impossible for any human being to behave with more 
 kindness than the Marquess of Carabas did to Vivian Grey, after 
 that young gentleman's short conversation with j\Irs. Felix Lor- 
 raine, in the conservatory. The only feeling which seemed to 
 actuate the Peer, was an eager desire to compensate, by his 
 present conduct, for any past misunderstanding, and he loaded his 
 young friend with all possible favour. Still Vivian was about to 
 quit the Chateau Desir ; and in spite of all that had passed, be 
 was extremely loth to leave his noble friend under the guardian- 
 ship of his female one. 
 
 About this time, the Duke and Duchess of Juggernaut, the very 
 pink of aristocracy, the wealthiest, the proudest, the most ancient 
 and most pompous couple in Christendom, honoured Chateau Desir 
 with their presence for two days — only two days, making the Mar- 
 
124 VIVIAN GEET. 
 
 quess' mansion a convenient resting-place in one of their princely 
 progresses to one of their princely castles. 
 
 Vivian contrived to gain the heart of her Grace, by his minute 
 acquaintance with the Juggernaut pedigree; and having taken 
 the opportunity, in one of their conversations, to describe Mrs. 
 Felix Lorraine as the most perfect specimen of divine creation 
 with which he was acquainted, at the same time the most amusing 
 and the most amiable of women, that lady was honoured with an 
 invitation to accompany her Grace to Himalaya Castle. As this 
 was the greatest of all possible honours, and as Desir was now 
 very dull, Mrs. Felix Lorraine accepted the invitation, or rather 
 obeyed the command, for the Marquess would not hear of a re- 
 fusal, Vivian having dilated in the most energetic terms on the 
 opening which now presented itself of gaining the Juggernaut. 
 The coast being thus cleared, Vivian set oflf the next day for Sir 
 Berdmore Scrope's. 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 125 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The important hour drew nigh. Christmas was to be passed 
 by the Carabas family, the Beaconsfields, the Scropes, and the 
 Clevelands, at Lord Courtown's villa at Richmond ; at which place, 
 on account of its vicinity to the metropolis, the Viscount had de- 
 termined to make out the holidays, notwithstanding the Thames 
 entered his kitchen windows, and the Donna del Lago was acted 
 in the theatre with real water, Cynthia Courtown performing- 
 Elena, paddHng in a punt. 
 
 " Let us order our horses, Cleveland, round to the Piccadilly gate, 
 and walk through the Guards. I must stretch my legs. That 
 bore. Buttonhole, captured me in Pall Mall East, and has kept me 
 in the same position for upwards of half an hour. I shall make a 
 note to blackball him at the Atheuajum. How is Mrs. Cleve- 
 land?" 
 
 " Extremely well. She goes down to Buck hurst Lodge with 
 Lady Carabas. Is not that Lord Lowersdale ?" 
 
 " His very self. He is going to call on Vivida Vis, I have no 
 doubt. Lowersdale is a man of very considerable talent ; much 
 more than the world gives him credit for." 
 
 " And he doubtless finds a very able counsellor in Monsieur le 
 Secretaire?" 
 
 " Can you name a better one ? " 
 
 " You rather patronise Vivida, I think, Grey ?" 
 
 '* Patronise him ! he is my political pet ! " 
 
 " And yet Kerrison tells me you reviewed the Suffolk papers in 
 the Edinburgh." 
 
 " So I did ; what of that ? I defended them in Blackwood." 
 
 "This, then, is the usual method of you literary gentlemen. 
 Thank God! I never could write a line." 
 
 " York House rises proudly — if York House be its name." 
 
 " This confounded Catholic Question is likely to give us a great 
 deal of trouble. Grey. It is perfect madness for us to advocate 
 the cause of the ' six millions of hereditary bondsmen ; ' and yet, 
 with not only the Marchese, but even Courtown and Beaconsfield 
 committed, it is, to say the least, a very delicate business." 
 
 "Very delicate, certainly; but there are some precedents, I 
 suspect, Cleveland, for the influence of a party being opposed to 
 
126 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 measures, which the heads of that party had pledged themselves 
 to adopt." 
 
 " Does old Gifford still live at Pimlico, Grey?" 
 
 « Still." 
 
 " He is a splendid fellow, after all." 
 
 " Certainly, a mind of great powers, but bigoted." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! 1 know exactly what you are going to say. It 
 is the fashion, I am aware, to abuse the old gentleman. He is the 
 Earl of Eldon of literature : not the less loved, because a little 
 vilified. But, when I just remember what Gifford has done — 
 when I call to mind the perfect and triumphant success of every- 
 thing he has undertaken — the Anti-Jacobin, the Baviad and 
 Mseviad, the Quarterly — all palpable hits, on the very jugular — 
 I hesitate before I speak of William Gifford in any other terms, 
 or in any other spirit, than those of admiration and of gratitude. 
 
 " And to think. Grey, that the Tory Administration and the Tory 
 party of Great Britain, should never, by one single act, or in a single 
 instance, have indicated that they were in the least aware that the 
 exertions of such a man differed in the slightest degree from those 
 of Hunt and Hone ! Of all the delusions which flourish in this mad 
 world, the delusion of that man is the most frantic, who voluntarily, 
 and of his own accord, supports the interest of a party. I mention 
 this to you because it is the rock on which all young politicians 
 strike. Fortunately, you enter life under different circumstances 
 from those which usually attend most political debutants. You have 
 your connections formed, and your views ascertained. But if, by any 
 chance, you find yourself independent and unconnected, never, for 
 a moment, suppose that you can accomplish your objects by coming 
 forward, unsolicited, to fight the battle of a party. They will 
 cheer your successful exertions, and then smile at your youthful 
 zeal ; or, crossing themselves for the unexpected succour, be too 
 cowardly to reward their unexpected champion. No, Grey; make 
 them fear you, and they will kiss your feet. There is no act of 
 treachery, or meanness, of which a political party is not capable ; 
 for in politics there is no honour. 
 
 " As to Gifford, I am surprised at their conduct towards him — 
 although I know better than most men, of what wood a minister 
 is made, and how much reliance may be placed upon the grati- 
 tude of a party : but Canning — from Canning I certainly -did ex- 
 pect different conduct." 
 
 " Oh, Canning ! I love tlie man : but, as you say, Cleveland, 
 ministers have short memories, and Canning's — that was Antille3 
 that just passed us ; apropos to whom, I quite rejoice that the 
 Marquess has determined to take such a decided course on the 
 West India Question." 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 127 
 
 "Oh, yes! curse your East India sugar." 
 
 " To be sure — slavery and sweetmeats for ever ! " 
 
 " But, aside with joking, Grey, I really think, that if any man 
 of average ability dare rise in the House, and rescue many of the 
 great questions of the day from what Dugald Stuart, or Disraeli, 
 would call the spirit of Political Religionism, with which they 
 are studiously mixed up, he would not fiiil to make a great im- 
 pression upon the House, and a still greater one upon the 
 country." 
 
 " I quite agree with you ; and certainly I should recommend 
 commencing with the West India Question. Singular state of 
 aflfairs ! when even Canning can only insinuate his opinion when 
 the very existence of some of our most valuable colonies is at 
 stake, and when even his insinuations are only indulged with an 
 audience, on the condition that he favours the House with an in- 
 troductory discourse of twenty minutes on ' the divine Author of 
 our faith' — and an eloge of equal length on the ginie du Chris- 
 tianismc, in a style worthy of Chateaubriand." 
 
 " Miserable work, indeed ! I have got a pamphlet on the "West 
 India Question sent me this morning. Do you know any raving 
 lawyer, any mad Master in Chancery, or something of the kind, 
 who meddles in these affairs ? " 
 
 " Oh ! Stephen ! a puddle in a storm ! He is for a crusade for 
 the regeneration of the Antilles — the most forcible of feebles — 
 the most energetic of drivellers, — Velluti acting Pietro L'Ere- 
 mita." 
 
 " Do you know, by any chance, whether Southey's Vindicise 
 is out yet ? I wanted to look it over during the holidays." 
 
 " Not out, though it has been advertised some time ; but what 
 do you expect ? " 
 
 '■ Xay, it is an interesting controversy, as controversies go. Not 
 exactly Milton and Salmasius ; but fair enough." 
 
 " I do not know. It has long degenerated into a mere per- 
 sonal bickering between the Laureate and Butler. Southey is, of 
 course, revelling in the idea of writing an English work with a 
 Latin title ; and that, perhaps, is the only circumstance for which 
 the controversy is prolonged." 
 
 " But Southey, after all, is a man of splendid talents." 
 
 " Doubtless — the most philosophical of bigots, and the most 
 poetical of prose writers." 
 
 " Apropos to the Catholic Question — there goes Colonial 
 Bothcr'em, trying to look like Prince Metternich; — a decided 
 failure." 
 
 " What can keep him in town ? " 
 
128 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 " Writing letters, I suppose. Heaven preserve me from re- 
 ceiving any of them ! " 
 
 " Is it true, then, that his letters are of the awful length that is 
 whispered ? " 
 
 " True ! Oh ! they are something beyond all conception 1 
 Perfect epistolary Boa Constrictors. I speak with feeling, for 
 I have myself suffered under their voluminous windings." 
 
 " Have you seen his quarto volume — ' The Cure for the Catholic 
 Question ? ' " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " If you have it, lend it to me. What kind of thing is it?" 
 
 " Oh ! what should it be ! — ingenious, and imbecile. He ad- 
 vises the Catholics, in the old nursery language, to behave like 
 good boys — to open their mouths and shut their eye.s, and see 
 what God will send them." 
 
 " Well, that is the usual advice. Is there nothing more cha- 
 racteristic of the writer?" 
 
 " What think you of a proposition of making Jocky of Norfolk 
 Patriarch of England, and of an ascertained credo for our Catholic 
 fellow-subjects? Ingenious — is not it?" 
 
 " Have you seen Puff's new volume of Ariosto ? " 
 
 " I have. What could possibly have induced Mr. Partenopex 
 Puff to have undertaken such a duty ? Mr. Puff is a man desti- 
 tute of poetical powers ; possessing no vigour of language, and 
 gifted with no happiness of expression. His translation is hard, 
 dry, and husky, as the outside of a cocoa-nut. I am amused to 
 see the excellent tact with which the public has determined not to 
 read his volumes, in spite of the incessant exertions of a certain 
 set to ensure their popularity ; but the time has gone by when the 
 smug coterie could create a reputation." 
 
 " Do you think the time ever existed, Cleveland ?" 
 
 " What could have seduced Puff into being so ambitious ? I 
 suppose his admirable knowledge of Italian ; as if a man were 
 entitled to strike a die for the new sovereign, merely because he 
 was aware how much alloy might legally debase its carats of pure 
 gold." 
 
 " I never can pardon Puff for that little book on Cats. The 
 idea was admirable ; but, instead of one of the most delightful 
 volumes that ever appeared, to take up a dull, tame compilation 
 from Bingley's Animal Biography ! " 
 
 " Yes ! and tlie impertinence of dedicating such a work to the 
 Officers of His Majesty's Ilouscliold troops! Considering the 
 quarter from whence it proceeded, I certainly did not expect 
 much, but still I thought that there was to be some little esprit. 
 
VIVIAN GKET. 129 
 
 The poor Guards ! how nervous they must have been at the an- 
 nouncement! What could have been the point of that dedi- 
 cation ? " 
 
 " I remember a most interminabje proser, who was blessed with 
 a very sensible-sounding voice, and who, on the strength of that, 
 and his correct and constant emphases, was considered by tlie 
 world, for a great time, as a sage. At length it was discovered 
 that he was quite the reverse. Mr. Puft"'s wit is very like this 
 man's wisdom. You take up one of his little books, and you fancy, 
 from its title-page, that it is going to be very witty ; as you pro- 
 ceed, you begin to suspect that the man is only a wag, and tlien, 
 surprised at not ' seeing the point,' you have a shrewd suspicion 
 that he is a great hand at dry humour. It is not till you have 
 closed the volume, that you wonder who it is that has had the 
 hardihood to intrude such imbecility upon an indulgent world." 
 
 " Come, come ! Mr. Puff is a worthy gentleman. Let him cease 
 to dusk the radiancy of Ariosto's sunny stanzas, and I shall be the 
 first man who will do justice to his merits. He certainly tattles 
 prettily about tenses, and terminations, and is not an inelegant 
 grammarian." 
 
 " Our literature, I think, is at a low ebb." 
 
 " There is nothing like a fall of stocks to affect what it is the 
 fashion to style the Literature of the present day — a fungus pro- 
 duction, which has flourished from the artificial state of our society 
 — the mere creature of our imaginary wealth. Everybody being 
 very rich, has afforded to be very literary, books being considered 
 a luxury, almost as elegant and necessary as ottomans, bonbons, 
 and pier-glasses. Consols at 100 were the origin of all book so- 
 cieties. The Stock-brokers' ladies took off the quarto travels and 
 the hot-pressed poetry. They were the patronesses of your patent 
 ink, and your wire wove paper. That is all past. Twenty per 
 cent, difference in the value of our public securities from this 
 time last year, that little incident has done more for the restoration 
 of the old English feeling, than all the exertions of Church and 
 State united. There is nothing like a fall in Consols to bring the 
 blood of our good people of England into cool order. It is your 
 grand state medicine, your veritable Doctor Sangrado ! " 
 
 " A fall in stocks! and halt! to 'the spread of knowledge!' and 
 *the progress of liberal principles" is like that of a man too late 
 for post-horses. A fall in stocks ! and where are your London 
 Universities and yonr Mechanics' Institutes, and your new Docks? 
 Where your philosophy, your philanthropy, and your competition ? 
 National prejudices revive, as national prosperity decreases. If 
 the Consols were at sixty, we should be again bellowing, God save 
 the King ! eatmg roast beef, and damning the French." 
 
130 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 "And you imagine literature is equally aflPected, Grey?" 
 
 " Clearly. We were literary, because we were rich. Amid the 
 myriad of volumes which issued monthly from the press, what one 
 was not written for the mere hour ? It is all very well to buy me- 
 chanical poetry, and historical novels, Avhen our purses have a 
 plethora ; but now, my dear fellow, depend upon it, the game is up. 
 We have no scholars now — no literary recluses — no men who ever 
 appear to think. 'Scribble, scribble, scribble,' as the Duke of 
 Cumberland said to Gibbon, should be the motto of the mighty 
 'nineteenth century.'" 
 
 " Southey, I think, Grey, is an exception." 
 
 "By no means. Southey is a political writer, a writer for a 
 particular purpose. All his works, from those in three volumes 
 quarto, to those in one duodecimo, are alike political pamph- 
 lets." 
 
 " We certairdy want a master-spirit to set us right, Grey. We 
 want Byron." 
 
 " There was the man ! And that such a man should be lost to 
 us, at the very moment that he had begun to discover why it had 
 pleased the Omnipotent to have endowed him with such powers!" 
 
 " If one thing were more characteristic of Byron's mind than 
 another, it was his strong, shrewd, common sense, his pure, unal- 
 loyed sagacity." 
 
 "You knew him, I think, Cleveland?" 
 
 " Well ; I was slightly acquainted with him, when in England ; 
 slightly, however, for I was then very young. But many years 
 afterwards I met him in Italy. It was at Pisa, just before he left 
 that place for Genoa. I was then very much struck at the altera- 
 tion in his appearance." 
 
 « Indeed ! " 
 
 " Yes ; his foce was swollen, and he was getting fat. His hair 
 was grey, and his countenance had lost that spiritual expression 
 which it once eminently possessed. His teeth were decaying; and 
 he said, that if ever he came to England, it would be to consult 
 Wayte about them. I certainly was very much struck at his 
 alteration for the worse. Besides, he was dressed in the most 
 extraordinary manner." 
 
 "Slovenly?" 
 
 "Oh! no, no, no — in the most dandified style that you can 
 conceive ; but not that of an English dandy either. He had on a 
 magniiicent foreign foraging cap, which he wore in the room, but 
 his grey curls were quite perceptible ; and a frogged surtout : and 
 he had a large gold chain round his neck, and pushed into his 
 waistcoat pocket. I imagined, of course, that a glass was attached 
 to it ; but I afterwards found that it bore nothing but a quantity 
 
VIVLVN GREY. 131 
 
 of trinkets. He had also another gold chain tight round his neck, 
 like a collar." 
 
 " How odd ! And did you converse much vrith him ? " 
 
 " I was not long- at Pisa, but we never parted, and there was 
 only one subject of conversation — England, England, England. I 
 never met a man in whom the maladie du pays was so strong. 
 Bjron was certainly at this time restless and discontented. He 
 was tired of his dragoon captains and pensioned poetasters, and 
 he dared not come back to England with, what he considered, a 
 tarnished reputation. His only thought was of some desperate 
 exertion to clear himself. It was for this he went to Greece. 
 When I was with him, he was in correspondence with some friends 
 in England, about the purchase of a large tract of land in Colombia. 
 He affected a great admiration of Bolivar." 
 
 " Who, by-the-bye, is a great man." 
 
 " Assuredly." 
 
 " Your acquaintance with Byrou must have been one of the 
 gratifying incidents of your life, Cleveland?'' 
 
 " Certainly ; I may say with Friar Martin, in Goetz of Berlich- 
 ingen, ' The sight of him touched my heart. It is a pleasure to 
 have seen a great man.'"' 
 
 " Hobhouse was a faithful friend to him ?" 
 
 " His conduct has been beautiful — and Byron had a thorough 
 aflfection for him in spite of a few squibs, and a few drunken 
 speeches, which damned good-natured friends have always been 
 careful to repeat." 
 
 " The loss of Byron can never be retrieved. He was indeed a 
 real man ; and when I say this, I award him the most splendid 
 character which human nature need aspire to. At least, I, for my 
 part, have no ambition to be considered either a divinity or au 
 Angel ; and truly, when I look round upon the creatures aUke 
 effeminate in mind and body, of which the world is, in general, 
 composed, I fear that even my ambition is too exalted. Byron's 
 mind was like his own ocean — sublime in its yesty madness — 
 beautiful in its glittering summer brightness — mighty in the lone 
 magnificence of its waste of waters — gazed upon from the magic 
 of its own nature — yet capable of representing, but as in a glass 
 darkly, the natures of all others." 
 
 " Hyde Park is greatly changed since I was a dandy, Vivian. 
 Pray, do the Misses Otranto still live in that house ? " 
 
 " Yes — blooming as ever." 
 
 " It is the fashion to abuse Horace Walpole, but I really think 
 him the most delightful writer that ever existed. I wonder who 
 is to be the Horace Walpole of the present century ? some one, 
 perhaps, we least suspect." 
 
132 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 " Vivida Vis, think you : " 
 
 " More than probable. I will tell you who ought to be wi-iting 
 Memoirs — Lord Dropmore. Does my Lord Manfred keep his 
 mansion there, next to the Misses Otranto:"' 
 
 " I believe so, and lives there." 
 
 " I knew him in Germany — a singular man, and not under- 
 stood. Perhaps he does not understand himself. I see our 
 horses." 
 
 " I will join you in an instant, Cleveland. I just want to speak one 
 word to Osborne, whom I see coming down here. Well, Osborne ! 
 I must come and knock you up one of these mornings. I have 
 got a commission for you from Lady Julia Knighton, to which you 
 must pay particular attention." 
 
 " Well, Mr. Grey, how docs Lady Julia like the bay mare ?" 
 
 " Very much, indeed ; but she wants to know what you have 
 done about the chestnut?" 
 
 " Oh ! put it off, sir, in the prettiest style, on young Mr. Feoff- 
 ment, who has just married, and taken a house in Gower Street. 
 He wanted a bit of blood — hopes he likes it ! " 
 
 '•' Hopes he does, Jack. There is a particular favour which you 
 can do me, Osborne, and which I am sure you will. Ernest Clay — 
 you know Ernest Clay — a most excellent fellow is Ernest Clay, 
 you know, and a great friend of yoiu's, Osborne ; — I wish you 
 would just step down to Connaught Place, and look at those bays 
 .he bought of Harry Mounteney. He is in a little trouble, and m'c 
 must do what we can for him — you know he is an excellent fellow, 
 ,aud a great friend of yours. Thank you, I knew you would. 
 Good morning : — remember Lady Julia. So you really fitted 
 young Feoffment with the chestnut. Vi'ell, that was admirable ! — 
 •Good morning. 
 
 "I do not know whether you care for these things at all, Cleve- 
 land, but Premium, a famous millionaire, has gone this morning, 
 for I know not how much ! Half the new world will be ruined ; 
 and in this old one, a most excellent fellow, my friend Ernest Clay. 
 He was engaged to Premium's daughter — his last resource ; and 
 now, of course, it is all up with him." 
 
 " I was at College witli his brother, Augustus Clay. He is a 
 nephew of Lord Mounteney's, is he not?" 
 
 " The very same. Poor fellow ! I do not know what wc must 
 do for him. I think I shall advise him to change his name to 
 Claj-ville ; and if the world ask him the reason of the euphonious 
 augmentation, why, he can swear it was to distinguisli himself 
 from his brothers. Too many roues of the same name will never 
 do. And now spurs to our steeds! for we are going at least three 
 miles out of our -way, and I must collect my senses, and arrange 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 103 
 
 my curls before dinner; for I liave to flirt with at least three 
 liiir ones." 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 These conversations play the very deuce with one's story. We 
 had intended to have commenced this book with something' quite 
 terrific — a murder or a marriage : and all our great ideas have 
 ended in a lounge. After all, it is, perhaps, the most natural termi- 
 nation. In life, surely man is not always as monstrously busy as 
 he appears to be in novels and romances. We are not always in 
 action — not always making speeches, or making money, or making- 
 war, or making love. Occasionally we talk, — about the weather, 
 generally — sometimes about ourselves — oftener about our friends — 
 as often about our enemies — at least, those who have any ; which, 
 in my opinion, is the vulgarest of all possessions. 
 
 But we must get on, 
 
 Mr. Cleveland and Mrs. Felix Lorraine again met, and the 
 gentleman scarcely appeared to be aware that this meeting was 
 not their first. The lady sighed, and remonstrated. She re- 
 proached Mr. Cleveland Avith passages of letters. He stared, and 
 deigned not a reply to an artifice which he considered equally 
 audacious and shallow. There was a scene. Vivian was forced 
 to interfere : but as he deprecated all explanation, his interference 
 was of little avail ; and, as it was inefiectual for one party, and 
 uncalled for by the other, it was, of course, not encouraged. The 
 presence of jMrs. Cleveland did not tend to assist ]\Irs. Felix in 
 that self-control which, with all her wildness, she could appo- 
 sitely practise. In the presence of the Clevelands, she was 
 fitful, capricious, perplexing ; sometimes impertinent, sometimes 
 humble; but always ill at ease, and never charming. 
 
 Peculiar, however, as Avas her conduct in this particular re- 
 lation, it Avas in all others, at this moment, most exemplary. Her 
 whole soul seemed concentrated in the success of the approaching- 
 struggle. No office was too mechanical for her attention, or too 
 elaborate for her enthusiastic assiduity. Her attentions Avere not 
 confined merely to Vivian and the Marquess, but were lavished 
 Avith equal generosity on their colleagues. 8he copied letters for 
 Sir Berdmore, and composed letters for Lord CourtoAvn, and con- 
 strued letters to Lord Beaconsfield ; they, in return, echoed her 
 praises to her dehghted relative, who was daily congratulated on 
 the possession of " such a fascinating sistcr-in-UiAv." 
 
 " Well, Vivian," said Mrs, Lorraine, to that young gentleman, 
 
J 34 VIVIAN GKKY. 
 
 the day previous to bis departure from Buckliurst Lodge, " you 
 are going to leave me behind you." 
 
 "Indeed!" 
 
 " Yes ! I hope you wUl not want me. I am very annoyed at 
 not being able to go to town with you, but Lady Courtown is so 
 pressing ! and I have really promised so often to stay a week with 
 her, that I thought it was better to make out my promise at once, 
 than in six months hence." 
 
 " Well ! I am exceedingly sorry, for you really are so useful ! 
 and the interest you take in everything is so encouraging, that 
 I very much fear we shall not be able to get on without you. The 
 important hour draws nigh." 
 
 " It does, indeed, Vivian ; and I assure you that there is no 
 person awaiting it with intenser interest than myself. I little 
 thought," she added, in a low, but distinct voice, " I little thought, 
 when I first reached England, that I should ever again be intei'- 
 ested in anything in this world." Vivian was silent, for he had 
 nothing to say. 
 
 "Vivian!" very briskly resumed Mrs. Lorraine, "I shall get 
 you to frank all my letters for me. I shall never trouble the Mar- 
 quess again. Do you know, it strikes me you will make a very 
 good speaker ! " 
 
 " You flatter me exceedingly ; suppose you give me a few 
 lessons." 
 
 "But you must leave off some of your wicked tricks, Vivian ! 
 You must not improvise parliamentary papers ! " 
 
 " Improvise papers, Mrs. Lorraine ! what can you mean ?" 
 
 " Oh ! nothing. I never mean anything." 
 
 " But you must have had some meaning." 
 
 " Some meaning ! Yes, I dare say I had ; I meant — I meant — 
 do you think it will rain to-day?" 
 
 " Every prospect of a hard frost. I never knew before that 
 I was an iuiprovisatore." 
 
 " Nor I. Have you heard from papa lately ? I suppose he is 
 qui^e in spirits at your success ? " 
 
 " My father is a man who seldom gives way to any elation of 
 mind." 
 
 " Ah, indeed ! a philosopher, I have no doubt, like his son." 
 
 " I have no claims to tlie title of philoso])her, altliougli I have 
 had the advantage of studying in the school of Mrs. Eelix Lor- 
 raine." 
 
 " What do you moan ? If I thought you meant to be imper- 
 tinent, I really would; but I excuse you — I think the boy means 
 well." 
 
VIVIAX GKET. 135 
 
 " The boy ' means nothing — he never means anything.' " 
 " Come, Vivian ! we are going to part. Do not let us quarrel 
 •the last day. There, there is a sprig of myrtle for you ! 
 
 * What ! not accept my foolish flower ? 
 Nay, then, I am indeed unblest ! ' 
 
 And now you want it all ! Unreasonable young man ! If I were 
 not the kindest lady in the land I should tear this sprig into 
 a thousand pieces sooner ; but come, my child ! you shall have it. 
 There ! it looks quite imposing in your button-hole. How hand- 
 some you look to-day ! " 
 
 " How agreeable you are ! I love compliments ! " 
 
 " Ah, Vivian ! will you never give me credit for anything but a 
 light and callous heart ? Will you never be convinced that — that 
 — but why make this humiliating confession ? Oh ! no, let me be 
 misunderstood for ever! The time may come when Vivian Grey 
 will find that Amalia Lorraine was " 
 
 " Was what, madam ? " 
 
 " You shall choose the word, Vivian." 
 
 " Say, then, my friend." 
 
 " 'Tis a monosyllable full of meaning, and I will not quarrel 
 with it. And now, adieu! Heaven prosper you! Believe me, 
 that my first thoughts, and my last, are for you, and of you I " 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ** This is very kind of you, Grey ! I was afraid my note might 
 not have caught you. You have not breakfasted ? Really I wish 
 you would take up your quarters in Carabas House, for I want you 
 now every moment." 
 
 " What is the urgent business of this morning ?" 
 
 " Oh ! I have seen Bromley." 
 
 "Hah!" 
 
 " And everything most satisfactory. I did not go into detail ; I 
 left that for you : but I ascertained sufficient to convince me that 
 management is now alone required." 
 
 " Well, my Lord, I trust that will not be wanting." 
 
 " No, Vivian ; you have opened my eyes to the situation in 
 ■which fortune has placed me. The experience of every day only 
 proves the truth and soundness of your views. Fortunate, in- 
 deed, was the hour in which we met." 
 
 " My Lord, I do trust that it was a meeting which neither of us 
 will live to repent." 
 
136 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 " Impossible ! my dear friend. I do not besitate to say that I 
 would not change my present lot for that of any Peer of this 
 realm ; no, not for that of His Majesty's most favoured coun- 
 sellor. What ! with my character and my influence, and my con- 
 nections, I to be a tool! I, the jMarquess of Carabas! I say 
 nothing of my own powers; but, as you often most justly and 
 truly observe, tbe world has had the opportunity of judging of 
 them ! and I think I may recur, without vanity, to the days in 
 which my voice had some weight iu the Royal Councils. And, as 
 I have often remarked, I have friends — I have you, Vivian. My 
 career is before you. I know what I should have done at your 
 age ; not to say what I did do — I to be a tool ! The very last 
 person tbat ought to be a tool. But I see my error : you have 
 opened my eyes, and blessed be the hour in which we met. But 
 we must take care how we act, Vivian ; we must be wary — eh ! 
 Vivian — wary — wary. People must know what their situations 
 are — eh! Vivian?" 
 
 " Exceedingly useful knowledge, but I do not exactly under- 
 stand the particular purport of your Lordship's last observa- 
 tion." 
 
 "You do not, eh?" asked the Peer; and he fixed his eyes as 
 earnestly, and expressively, as he possibly could upon his young 
 companion. "Well, I thought not. I was positive it was not 
 true," continued the Marquess, iu a murmur. 
 
 "What, my Lord?" 
 
 " Oh ! nothing, nothing ; people talk at random — at random — 
 at random. I feel confident you quite agree with me, — eh! 
 Vivian ? " 
 
 "Really, my Lord, I fo.ir I am unusually dull this morning." 
 
 "Dull! no, no, you qiiite agree with me. I feel confident you 
 do. People must be taught what their situations arc — that is 
 what I was saying, Vivian. My Lord Courtown," added the Mar- 
 quess in a whisper, " is not to have everything his own way — eh ! 
 Vivian?" 
 
 " Oh, oh ! " thought Vivian, " this, then, is the result of that 
 admirable creature, Mrs. Felix Lorraine, staying a week with her 
 dear friend. Lady Courtown."—" My Lord, it would be singular 
 if, iu the Carabas party, the Carabas interest was not the pre- 
 dominant one." 
 
 " I knew you thought so. I could not believe, for a minute, 
 that you could think otlierwise : but some people take such 
 strange ideas into their licads — I cannot account for them. I felt 
 confident what would be your opinion. My Lord Courtown is not 
 to carry everything before him, in the spirit tliat 1 have lately ob- 
 served — or rather, in the spirit which I understand, from very 
 
VIVIAN GKEV. 137 
 
 good authority, is exiiibited. EIi ! Vivi.iu — that is your opinion, 
 is uot it?" 
 
 " Oh ! my dear Marquess, we must think alike on this, as on all 
 points." 
 
 " I knew it. I felt confident as to your sentiments upon 
 this subject. I cannot conceive why some pooi)le take such 
 strange ideas into tlieir heads ! I knew that you could not dis- 
 agree with me upon tliis point. No, no, no, my Lord Courtown 
 must feel which is the predominant interest, as you so well ex- 
 press it. How choice your expressions always are ! I do not 
 know how it is, but you always hit upon the right expression, 
 Vivian. The predominant interest — the pre-do-mi-nant — in-te- 
 rest. To be sure. What! with my high character and con- 
 nections — with my stake in society, was it to be expected that 
 I, the Marquess of Carabas, was going- to make any move which 
 compromised the predominancy of my interests ? No, no, no, my 
 Lord Courtown — the predominant interest must be kept pre- 
 dominant — eh ! Vivian ? " 
 
 " To be sure, my Lord ; explicitness and decision will soon 
 arrange any desagremens." 
 
 " I have been talking to Lady Carabas, Vivian, upon the ex- 
 pediency of her opening the season early. I think a course of 
 parliamentary dinners would produce a good ettect. It gives a 
 tone to a political party." 
 
 " Certainly ; the science of political gastronomy has never been 
 sufnciently studied." 
 
 "Egad ! Vivian, I am in such spirits this morning. This busi- 
 ness of Bromley so delights me ; and ihiding you agree with me 
 about Lord Courtown, I was confident as to your sentiments on 
 that point. But some people take such strange ideij«; into their 
 heads ! To be sure, to be sure, the predominant interest, mine — 
 that is to say, ours, Vivian — is the predominant interest. I have no 
 idea of the predominant interest not being predominant ; that 
 •would be singular ! I knew you would agree with me — we always 
 agree. 'Twas a lucky hour when we met. Two minds so ex- 
 actly alike! I was just your very self when I was young; and as 
 for you — my career is before you." 
 
 Here entered Mr. Sadler with the letters. 
 
 " One from Courtown. I wonder if he has seen Mounteney. 
 Mounteney is a very good-natured fellow, and I think might be 
 managed. Ah! I wish you could get hold of him, Vivian ; you 
 would soon bring him round. What it is to have brains, Vivian !" 
 and here the Marquess shook his head very pompously, and at the 
 same time tapped very significantly on his left temple. "Hah! 
 
138 VIVIAN* GEET. 
 
 what — what is all this ! Here, read it, read it, man — I have no 
 
 head to-day." 
 
 Vivian took the letter, and his quick eye dashed through its con- 
 tents in a second. It was from Lord Courto^sTi, and dated far in 
 the country. It talked of private communications, and premature 
 conduct, and the suspicious, not to say dishonourable, behaviour of 
 Mr. Vviain Grey : it trusted that such conduct was not sanctioned 
 by his Lordship, but " nevertheless obliged to act with decision — 
 regretted the necessity," &c. &c. &c. &c. In short, Lord Cour- 
 town had deserted, and recalled his pledge as to the official ap- 
 pointment promised to Mr. Cleveland, "because that promise was 
 made while he was the victim of delusions created by tlie repre- 
 sentations of Mr. Grey." 
 
 '•' What can all this mean, my Lord ?" 
 
 The Marquess swore a fearful oath, and threw another 
 letter. 
 
 " This is from Lord Beaconsfield, my Lord," said Vivian, with 
 a face pallid as death, " and apparently the composition of the 
 same writer; at least, it is the same tale, the same refaciraento of 
 lies, and treacliery, and cowardice, doled out with diplomatic poli- 
 
 tesse. But I will off to shire instantly. It is not yet too 
 
 late to save everytliing. This is Wednesday ; on Thursday after- 
 noon, I shall be at Norwood Park. Thank God ! I came this 
 morning." 
 
 The face of the Mai'quess, who was treacherous as the wind, 
 seemed already to indicate, " Adieu ! ]\Ir. Vivian Grey ! " but that 
 countenance exhibited some very different passions, when it glanced 
 over the contents of the next epistle. There was a tremendous 
 oath — and a dead sOence. His Lordship's florid countenance 
 turned as pale as that of his companion. The perspiration stole 
 down in heavy drops. He gasped for breath ! 
 
 " Good God ! my Lord, what is the matter ?" 
 
 " The matter ! " howled the Marquess, " the matter ! That I 
 have been a vain, weak, miserable fool ! " and then there was 
 another oath, and he flung the letter to the other side of the 
 table. 
 
 It was the official conge of the Most Noble Sydney Marquess of 
 Carabas. His INIajesty had no longer any occasion for his services. 
 His successor was Lord Courtown ! 
 
 We will not affect to give any description of the conduct of the 
 Marquis of Carabas at this moment. He raved, he stamped, he 
 blasphemed ! but the whole of his abuse was levelled against his 
 former "monstrous clever" young friend; of whose character he 
 had so often boasted that his owu was the prototype, but who was 
 
VJVIAN GUEY. 139 
 
 now an adventurer, a swindler, a scoundrel, a liar — a base, de- 
 luding', flattering, fawning- villain, &c. &c. &c. &c. 
 
 " My Lord ! " said Vivian. 
 
 " I will not hear you — out on your fixir words ! They have 
 duped me enough already. That I, with my high character and 
 connections ! that I, the Marquess of Carabas, should have been 
 the victim of the arts of a young scoundrel ! " 
 
 Vivian's fist was once clenched — but it was only for a moment. 
 The Marquess leant back in his chair, with his eyes shut. In the 
 agony of the moment, a projecting tooth of his upper jaw had 
 forced itself through his under lip, and from the wound the blood 
 was flowing freely over his dead white countenance. Vivian left 
 the room. 
 
 CHAPTER rV. 
 
 He stopped one moment on the landing-place, ere he was about 
 to leave the house for ever. 
 
 " 'Tis all over ! and so, Vivian Grey, your game is up ! and to 
 die, too, like a dog ! — a woman's dupe ! Were I a despot, I should 
 perhaps satiate my vengeance upon this female fiend, with the 
 assistance of the rack — but that cannot be ; and after all, it would 
 be but a poor revenge in one who has worshipped the Empire of the 
 Intellect, to vindicate the agony I am now enduring, upon the base 
 body of a woman. No ! 'tis not all over. There is yet an intel- 
 lectual rack of which few dream : far, far more terrific than the 
 most exquisite contrivances of Parysatis. — Jacinte," said he to a 
 female attendant that passed, "is your mistress at home ?" 
 
 " She is, sir." 
 
 " 'Tis well," said Vivian, and he sprang up stairs. 
 
 " Health to the lady of our love ! " said Vivian Grey, as he en- 
 tered the elegant boudoir of Mrs. Felix Lorraine. " In spite of 
 the easterly wind, which has spoiled my beauty for the season, I 
 could not refrain from inquiring after your prosperity, before I 
 ■went to the Marquess. Have you heard the news ?" 
 
 " News ! no ; what news ? " 
 
 " 'Tis a sad tale," said Vivian, with a melancholy voice. 
 
 "Oh! then, pray do not tell it me. I am in no humour for 
 sorrow to-day. Come ! a bon-mot, or a calembourg, or exit Mr. 
 Vivian Grey." 
 
 " Well then, good morning ! I am oS" for a black crape, or a 
 Barcelona kerchief.— Mrs. Cleveland is— dead." 
 
 " Dead !" exclaimed Mrs. Lorraine. 
 
 « Dead ! She died last night, suddenly. Is it not horrible ?" 
 
140 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 " Shocking!" exclaimed Mrs. Lorraine, with a mournful voice, 
 find fin eye dancing- with joy. "Why! Mr. Grey, I do declare 
 you are weeping." 
 
 " It is not for the departed ! " 
 
 " Nay, Vivian ! for Heaven's sake, what is the matter ?" 
 
 "My dear Mrs. Lorraine!" but here the speaker's voice was 
 choked with grief, and he could not proceed. 
 
 " Pray compose yourself." 
 
 " Mrs. Felix Lorraine, can I speak with you half an liour, un- 
 disturbed?" 
 
 " By all means. I will ring for Jacinto. Jacinte ! mind, I am 
 not at home to any one. Well! Avhat is the matter?" 
 
 " O ! Madam, I must pray your patience — I wish you to shrive 
 a penitent." 
 
 " Good God ! Mr. Grey ! for Heaven's sake, be explicit." 
 
 " For Heaven's sake — for your sake — for my soul's sake, I 
 would be explicit ; but explicitness is not the language of such as 
 I am. Can you listen to a tale of horror ; can you promise me to 
 contain yourself?" 
 
 " I will promise anything. Pray, pray, proceed." 
 
 But in spite of her earnest solicitations her companion was mute. 
 At length he rose from his chair, and leaning on the chimney- 
 piece, buried his face in his hands, and wept. 
 
 " Vivian," said Mrs. Lorraine, " have you seen the Marquess 
 yet?" 
 
 " Not yet," he sobbed ; " I am going to him ; but I am in 
 no humour for business this morning." 
 
 " Compose yourself, I beseech you. I will hear everything. 
 You shall not corajdain of an inattentive or an iiTitable auditor. 
 Now, my dear Vivian, sit down and tell me all." She led him to 
 a chair, and then, after stifling his sobs, with a broken voice he 
 proceeded. 
 
 " You will recollect, madam, that accident made me acquainted 
 with certain circumstances connected with yourself and jMr. Cleve- 
 land. Alas ! actuated by the vilest of sentiments, I conceived a 
 violent hatred against that gentleman — a hatred only to be 
 - equalled by my passion for you ; but, I find difReulty in dwelling 
 upon the details of this sad story of jealousy and despair." 
 
 " Oh ! sjjoak, speak ! compensate for all you have done, by your 
 present frankness ; bo brief, be brief." 
 
 " I will be brief," said Vivian, with earnestness ; " I will be 
 brief. Know then, madam, tliat in order to prevent the inter- 
 course between you and Mr. Cleveland from proceeding, I obtained 
 his friendr.hip, and became the conlidante of his heart's sweetest 
 secret. Thus situated, I suppressed the letters, with which I was 
 
viviA.v &r>Er. 141 
 
 entrusted from liiiu to you, and poisoning- his mind, I accounted for 
 your silence, by your beinj; employed in other correspondence ; 
 
 nay, I did more, with the malice of a lieud, I boasted of nay, do 
 
 not stop me ; I have more to tell." 
 
 Mrs. Felix Lorraine, with compressed lips, and looks of horrible 
 earnestness, gazed in silence. 
 
 '• The result of all this you know, — but the most terrible part 
 is to come ; and, by a strange fascination, I fly to confess my 
 crimes at your feet, even while the last minutes have witnessed 
 my most heinous one. Oh! madam, I have stood over the bier of 
 the departed ; I have mingled my tears with those of the sorrowing 
 widower, — his young and tender child was on my knee, and as I 
 kissed his innocent lips, methought it was but my duty to the 
 departed, to save the father from his mother's rival — *' He 
 stopped. 
 
 "Yes, — yes, — yes," said Mrs. Felix Lorraine, in a low 
 whisper. 
 
 " It was then, even then, in the hour of his desolation, that I 
 mentioned your name, that it might the more disgust him ; and. 
 while he wept over his virtuous and sainted wife, I dwelt on the 
 vices of his rejected mistress." 
 
 Mrs. Lorraine clasped her hands, and moved restlessly on her 
 seat. 
 
 " Nay! do not stop me — let me tell all. ' Cleveland,' said I, ' if 
 ever you become the husband of Mrs. Felix Lorraine, remember 
 my last words : — it will be well for you, if your frame be like that 
 of Mithridates of Pontus, and proof against poison.' " 
 
 '•' And did you say this ?'"' shrieked the woman. 
 
 " Even these were my words." 
 
 " Then may all evil blast you ! " She threw herself on the sofa : 
 her voice was choked with the convulsions of her passion, and she 
 writhed in fearful agony. 
 
 Vivian Grey, lounging in au arm-chair, in the easiest of pos- 
 tiu-es, and with a fiice brilliant M'ith smiles, watched his victim with 
 the eye of a Mephistophiles. 
 
 She slowly recovered, and with a broken voice poured forth her 
 sacred absolution to the relieved penitent. 
 
 " You wonder I do not stab you, — hah ! hah ! hah ! there is no 
 need for that I — the good powers be praised, that you refused the 
 draught I once proffered. Know, wretch, that your race is run. 
 Within five minutes, you will breathe a beggar and an outcast. 
 Your golden dreams are over — your cunning plans are circum- 
 vented — your ambitious hopes are crushed for ever — you are 
 blighted in the very spring of your life. Oh ! may you never die ! 
 May you wander for ever, the butt of the world's malice ! and may 
 
142 VIVIAN GEET. 
 
 the slow moving finger of scorn point wliere'er yon go at the 
 ruined Charlatan ! " 
 
 " Hah, hah ! is it so, think you, that Vivian Grey would fall by 
 a woman's wile ? Think you that Vivian Grey could be crushed 
 by such a worthless thing as you ? Know, then, that your political 
 intrigues have been as little concealed from me, as your personal 
 ones ; — I have been acquainted with all. The Marquess has, him- 
 self, seen the Minister, and is more firmly established in his pride 
 of place than ever. I have, myself, seen our colleagues, whom 
 you tampered with, and their hearts are still true, and their pur- 
 pose still fixed. All, all prospers ; and ere five days are passed, 
 ' the Charlatan' will be a Senator." 
 
 The shifting expression of Mrs. Lorraine's countenance, while 
 Vivian was speaking, would have baffled the most cunning painter. 
 Her complexion was capricious as the chameleon's, and her coun- 
 tenance was so convulsed, that her features seemed of all shapes 
 and sizes. One large vein protruded nearly a quarter of an inch 
 from her forehead ; and the dank light which gleamed in her 
 tearful eye was like an unwholesome meteor quivering in a marsh. 
 When he ended, she sprang from the sofa, and looking up, and ex- 
 tending her arms with unmeaning wildness, she gave one loud 
 
 shriek, and dropped like a bird shot on the wing she had burst 
 
 a blood-vessel. 
 
 Vivian raised her on the sofa, and paid her every possible atten- 
 tion. There is always a medical attendant lurking about the man- 
 sions of the noble, and to this worthy, and the attendant Jacinte, 
 Vivian delivered his patient. 
 
 Had Vivian Grey left the boudoir a pledged bridegroom, his 
 countenance could not have been more triumphant ; but he was 
 labouring under unnatural excitement: for it is singular, that 
 when, as he left the house, the porter told him that Mr. Cleveland 
 was with his Lord, Vivian had no idea at the moment, what indi- 
 vidual bore that name. The fresh air of the street revived him, 
 and somewhat cooled the bubbling of his blood. It was then that 
 the man's information struck upon his senses. 
 
 " So, poor Cleveland ! " thought Vivian, " then he knows all ! " 
 His own misery he had not yet thought of; but, when Cleveland 
 occurred to him, with his ambition once more baulked — his high 
 hopes once more blasted — and his honourable soul once more de- 
 ceived, — when he thought of his fair wife, and his infant children, 
 and his ruined prospects, — a sickness came over his heart, he grew 
 dizzy, and fell. 
 
 " And the gentleman's ill, I tliink," said an honest Irishman ; 
 and, iu the fiduess of his charity, he placed Vivian ou a door 
 step. 
 
VIVIAN GRET. 143 
 
 " So it seems ! " said a genteel passenger in black ; and he 
 snatched, with great sang-froid, Vivian's watch. "Stop thief!" 
 hallooed the Hibernian. Paddy was tripped up. There was a 
 row ; in the midst of which, Vivian Grey crawled to au hotel. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 In half an hour Vivian was at Mr. Cleveland's door. 
 
 " My master is at the Marquess of Carabas', sir ; he will not re- 
 turn, but is going immediately to Richmond, where Mrs. Cleve- 
 land is staying." 
 
 Vivian immediately wrote to Mr. Cleveland. " If your master 
 have left the Marquess', let this be forwarded to him at Richmond 
 immediately." 
 
 « Cleveland ! 
 " You know all. It would be mockery were I to say, that at 
 this moment I am not thinking of myself. I am a ruined man, in 
 body, and in mind. But ray own misery is nothing ; I can die — I 
 can go mad — and who will be harmed ? But you ! I had wished 
 that we should never meet again ; but my hand refuses to trace 
 the thoughts with which my heart is full, and I am under the sad 
 necessity of requesting you to see me once more. We have been 
 betrayed — and by a woman; but, there has been revenge! oh! 
 what revenge ! 
 
 " Vivian Grey." 
 
 When Vivian left Mr. Cleveland's, he actually did not know 
 what to do with himself. Home, at present, he could not face, 
 and so he continued to wander about, quite unconscious of locality. 
 He passed in his progress many of his acquaintance, who, from his 
 distracted air and rapid pace, imagined that he was intent on some 
 important business. At length he found himself in one of the 
 most sequestered parts of Kensington Gardens. It was a cold, 
 frosty day, and as Vivian flung himself upon one of the summer 
 seats, the snow drifted from off the frozen board ; but Vivian's 
 brow was as burning hot as if he had been an inhabitant of Sirius. 
 Throwing his ai'ms on a small garden table, he buried his face 
 in his hands, and wept — as men can but once weep in this 
 world ! 
 
 O, thou sublime and most subtle philosopher, who, in thy lamp- 
 lit cell, art speculating upon the passions which thou hast never 
 felt ! O, thou splendid and most admirable poet, who, with cun- 
 
J 44 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 niug words, art painting- witli a smile a tale of woe ! tell me what 
 is Grief, and solve me the mystery of Sorrow. 
 
 Not for himself — for after the iirst pan,^, he would have whistled 
 off his high hopes with the spirit of a Ripperda — not even for 
 Cleveland— for at this moment, it must he confessed, his thoughts 
 were not for his friend — did Vivian Grey's soul struggle as if it 
 were ahout to leave its fleshy chamher. We said he wept, as men 
 can weep hut once in tliis world ; and yet it would have been im- 
 possible for him to have defined what, at that fearful moment, was 
 the cause of his heart's sorrow. Incidents of childhood, of the 
 most trivial nature, and until this moment forgotten, flashed across 
 his memory ; he gazed on the smile of his mother — he listened to 
 the sweet tones of his father's voice — and his hand clenched, with 
 still more agonised grasp, his rude resting-place ; and the scalding 
 tears dashed down his cheek in still more ardent torrents. He 
 had no distinct remembran6e of what had so lately happened; but 
 characters flitted before him as in a theatre in a dream — dim and 
 shadowy, yet full of mysterious and undefiuable interest ; and then 
 there came a horrible idea across his mind, that his glittering 
 youth was gone, and wasted ; and then there was a dark whisper 
 of treachery, and dissimulation, and dishonour ; and then he 
 sobbed as if his very heart were cracking. All his boasted 
 philosophy vanished — his artificial feelings fled him. Insulted Na- 
 ture reasserted her long-spurned authority, and the once proud 
 Vivian Grey felt too humble even to curse himself. Gradually 
 his sobs became less convulsed, and his brow more cool ; and calm 
 from very exhaustion, he sat for upwards of an hour motionless. 
 
 At this moment there issued, with their attendant, from an ad- 
 joining shrubbery, two beautiful children. They were so exceed- 
 ingly lovely, that the passenger would have stopped to gaze upon 
 them. The eldest, who yet was very young, was leading his sister 
 hand in hand, with slow and graceful steps, mimicking the courtesy 
 of men. But when his eye caught Vivian's, the boy uttered a 
 loud cry of exultation, and rushed, with the eagerness of infantile 
 affection, to his gentle and favourite playmate. They were the 
 young Clevelands. With what miraculous quickness will man 
 shake off tlie outward semblance of gi-ief, when his sorrow is a 
 secret ! The mighty merchant, who knows that in four-and-twenty 
 hours the world must be astounded by his insolvency, will walk in 
 the front of his confident creditor, as if he were the lord of a thou- 
 sand argosies — the meditating suicide will smile on the arm of a 
 companion, as if to breathe in this sunny world were the most 
 ravishing and rapturous bliss. We cling to our stations in our 
 fellow-creatures' minds and memories ; we know, too well, the 
 frail tenure On which we are in this world, great and considered 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 145 
 
 personages. Experience makes us shrink from tlie specious sneer 
 of sympathy ; and when we are ourselves falling, bitter Memory 
 whispers, that we have ourselves been ne^'lectful. 
 
 And so it was, that, even unto these infants, Vivian Grey dared 
 not appear other than a gay and easy-hearted man; and in a mo- 
 ment he was dancing them on his knee, and playing with their curls, 
 and joining in their pretty prattle, and pressing their small and 
 fragrant lips. 
 
 It was night when he paced down . He passed his club; 
 
 that club, to become a member of which, had once been the object 
 of his high ambition, and to gain which privilege had cost such 
 hours of canvassing ; such interference of noble friends ; and the 
 incurring of fiivours from so many people, " which never could be 
 forgotten ! " 
 
 A desperate feeling actuated hiai, and he entered the Club- 
 house. He v/alked into the great saloon, and met some fifty " most 
 particular friends," all of whom asked him, " how the Marquess 
 did," or " have you seen Cleveland ? " and a thousand other as 
 comfortable queries. At length, to avoid these disagreeable ren- 
 contres, and indeed to rest himself, he Avent to a smaller and more 
 private room. As he opened the door, his eyes lighted upon 
 Cleveland. 
 
 He was standing with his back to the fire. There were only two 
 other persons in the room : one was a friend of Cleveland's, and 
 the other an acquaintance of Vivian's. The latter was writing at 
 the table. 
 
 When Vivian saw Cleveland, lie would have retired, but he was 
 bid to " come in," in a voice of thunder. 
 
 As he entered, he instantly perceived that Cleveland was under 
 the influence of wine. When in this situation, unlike other men, , 
 Mr. Cleveland's conduct was not distinguished by any of the little 
 improprieties of behaviour, by which a man is always known by 
 his friends " to be very drunk." He neither reeled, nor hiccuped, 
 nor grew maudlin. The effect of drinking upon him, was only to 
 increase the intensity of the sensation by which his mind was, at . 
 the moment, influenced. He did not even lose the consciousness, 
 of identity of persons. At this moment, it was clear to Vivian 
 that Cleveland was under the influence of the extremest passion : 
 his eyes rolled widely, and seemed fixed only upon Vacancy. As 
 Vivian was no friend to scenes before strangers, he bowed to the 
 two gentlemen, and saluted Cleveland with his wonted cordiality; 
 but hi? proffered hand was rudely repelled. 
 
 " Away ! " exclaimed Cleveland, in a furious tone ; " I have no 
 friendship for traitors ! " 
 
 The two gentlemen stared, and the pen of the writer stopped. 
 
 10 
 
146 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 " Cleveland ! " said Vivian, in an earnest wliisper, as he came 
 up close to him ; — " for God's sake, contain yourself. I have written 
 you a letter which ex2)lains all — but " 
 
 "Out! out upon you! Out upon your honied words, and your 
 soft phrases ! I have been their dupe too long ;" and he struck 
 Vivian. 
 
 " Sir John Poyniugs ! " said Vivian, with a quivering lip, turn- 
 ing to the gentleman who was writing at the table — " we were 
 school-fellows; circumstances have prevented us from meeting 
 often in after-life, but I now ask you, with the frankness of an old 
 acquaintance, to do me the sad service of accompanying me in 
 this quarrel — a quarrel which I call Heaven to witness is not of 
 my seeking." 
 
 The Baronet, who was in the Guards, and, although a great 
 dandy, quite a man of business in these matters, immediately rose 
 from his seat, and led Vivian to a corner of the room. After 
 some whispering, he turned round to Mr. Cleveland, and bowed to 
 him with a very significant look. It was evident that Cleveland 
 comprehended his meaning, for, though he was silent, he im- 
 mediately pointed to the other gentleman — his friend, Mr. Cas- 
 tleton. 
 
 " Mr. Castleton," said Sir John, ginng his card, " Mr. Grey 
 will accompany me to my rooms in Pall Mall; it is now ten 
 •o'clock ; we shall wait two hours, in which time I hope to hear 
 from you. I leave time, and place, and terms, to yourself. I only 
 wish it to be understood, that it is the particular desire of my prin- 
 cipal that the meeting should be as speedy as possible." 
 
 About eleven o'clock, the communication from Mr. Castleton 
 arrived. It was quite evident that Cleveland was sobered, for in 
 one instance Vivian observed that the style was corrected by his 
 
 own hand. The hour was eight the next morning, at 
 
 Common, about six miles from town, 
 
 Poynings wrote to a professional friend to be on the ground at 
 half-past seven, and then he and Vivian retired. 
 
 Did you ever fight a duel ? No ! nor send a challenge either ? 
 Well ! you are fresh indeed ! 'Tis an awkward business after all 
 — even for the boldest. After an immense deal of negotiation, 
 and giving your opponent every opportunity of coming to an 
 honourable understanding, the fiital letter is, at length, signed, 
 sealed, and sent. You pass your mornings at your second's apart- 
 ments, pacing his drawing-room, with a quivering lip, and uncer- 
 tain step. At length he enters with an answer ; and while he read.s, 
 you endeavour to look easy, with a countenance merry with the 
 most melancholy smile. You have no appetite for dinner, but you 
 are too brave not to appear at table : and you are called out after 
 
VIVIAN GEET. 147 
 
 the second glass by the arrival of your solicitor, who comes to 
 alter your will. You pass a restless night, and rise in the morning 
 as bilious as a Bengal general. Urged by impending fate, you 
 make a desperate effort to accommodate matters : but in the con- 
 test between your pride and your terror, you, at the same time, 
 prove that you are a coward, and fail in the negotiation. You 
 both fire — and miss — and then the seconds interfere, and then you 
 shake hands, everything being arranged in the most honourable 
 manner, and to the mutual satisfaction of both parties. The next 
 day you are seen pacing Bond Street, with an erect front, and a 
 flashing eye — with an air at once dandyish and heroical — a mix- 
 ture, at the same time, of Brummell and the Duke of Wellington. 
 
 It was a fine February morning. Sir John drove Vivian to the 
 ground in his cabriolet. 
 
 " Nothing like a cab. Grey, for the business you are going on. 
 You glide along the six miles in such style, that it actually makes 
 you quite courageous. I remember once going down, on a similar 
 purpose, in a post and pair ; and 'pon my soul, when I came to the 
 ground, my hand shook so that I could scarcely draw. But I was 
 green then. Now, when I go in my cab, with Philidor with his 
 sixteen-mile-an-hour paces, egad ! I wing my man in a trice ; and 
 take all the parties home to Pall Mall, to celebrate the event with 
 a grilled bone, Havailnaiis, and Regent's punch. Ah ! there ! that 
 is Cleveland that we have just passed, going to the ground in a 
 chariot: he is a dead man, or my name is not Poynings — " 
 
 " Come, Sir John ; no fear of Cleveland's dying," said Vivian, 
 with a smile. 
 
 " Wliat, you mean to fire in the air, and all that sort of thing ? 
 — sentimental, but slip-slop ! " 
 
 The ground is measured — all is arranged. Cleveland, a splendid 
 shot, fired first. He grazed Vivian's elbow. Vivian fired in the 
 air. The seconds interfered. Cleveland was implacable — and 
 " in the most irregular manner," as Sir John declared, insisted 
 upon another shot. To the astonishment of all, he fired quite 
 wild. Vivian shot at random ; and his bullet pierced Cleveland's 
 heart. Cleveland sprang nearly two yards from the ground, and 
 then fell upon his back. In a moment Vivian was at the side of 
 his fallen antagonist ; but tlie dying man " made no sign" — he 
 stared wildly, and then closed his eyes for ever ! 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 When Vivian Grey remembered his existence, he found himself 
 in bed. The curtains of his couch were closed ; but, as he stared 
 
148 VIVIAN GKEY. 
 
 around him, they were softly withdrawn, and a face that recalled 
 everything to his recollection, gazed upon him with a look of 
 affectionate anxiety. 
 
 " My father!" exclaimed Viviau — but the finger pressed on the 
 parental lip warned him to silence. His father knelt by his side, 
 and then the curtains were again closed. 
 
 Six weeks, unconsciously to Vivian, had elapsed since the 
 fatal day, and he was now recovei'ing from the efi'ects of a fever, 
 from which his medical attendants had supposed he never could 
 have rallied. And what had been the past? It did, indeed, 
 seem like a hot and feverish dream. Here was he, once more iu 
 his own quiet room, watched over by his beloved parents ; and had 
 there then ever existed such beings as the Marquess, and Mrs. 
 Lorraine, and Cleveland, or Avere they only the actors in a vision ? 
 " It must be .so," thought Vivian ; and he jumped up in his bed, 
 and stared wildly around him. " And yet it was a horrid dream ! 
 Murder! horrible murder! — and so real! so palpable! — I muse 
 upon their voices, as upon familiar sounds, and I recall all the 
 events, not as the shadowy incidents of sleep — that mysterious 
 existence, in which the experience of a century seems caught 
 in the breathing of a second — but as the natural, and mate 
 rial consequences of time and stirring life. O, no! it is 
 too true ! " shrieked the wretched sufferer* as his eye glanced 
 upon a despatch-box which was on the table, and which had 
 been given to him by Lord Carabas ; " it is true ! it is true ! 
 Murder! murder!" He foamed at the mouth, and sunk ex- 
 hausted on his pillow. 
 
 But the human mind can master many sorrows, and after a 
 desperate relapse, and another miraculous rally, Vivian Grey rose 
 from his bed. 
 
 " My father! I fear that I shall live !" 
 
 " Hope, rather, my beloved! " 
 
 " Oh ! why should I hope ? " and the sufferer's head sank upon 
 his breast. 
 
 " Do not give way, my son ; all will yet be well, and we shall all 
 yet he happy," said the father, with streaming eyes. 
 
 " Happy ! oh, not in this world, my father ! " 
 
 " Vivian, my dearest, your mother visited you this morning, 
 but you were asleep. She was quite happy to find you slumbering 
 so calmly." 
 
 " And yet my dreams were not the dreams of joy. — O, my 
 mother! you were wont to smile upon me — alas! you smiled upon 
 your sorrow." 
 
 " Vivian, my beloved ! you must indeed restrain your feelings. 
 At your age, life cannot be the lost game you think it. A little 
 
^aVIAN GREY, 149 
 
 repose, aud I shall yet see my boy the honour to society which he 
 deserves to be." 
 
 '• Alas ! my father, you know not what I feel ! The springiness 
 of my mind has gone. O man, what a vain fool thou art ! Na- 
 ture has been too bountiful to thee. She has given thee the best 
 of friends, and thou valuest not the gift of exceeding price, until 
 thy griefs are past even friendship's cure. O, my father ! why did I 
 leave thee?" and he seized ]\Ir. Grey's hand with convulsive grasp. 
 
 Time flew on, even in this house of sorrow. " My boy," said 
 Mr. Grey to his son one day, " your mother aud I have been con- 
 sulting together about you; and we think, now that you have 
 somewhat recovered your strength, it may be well for you to leave 
 England for a short time. The novelty of travel will relieve yom* 
 mind, without too much exciting it ; and if you can manage by 
 the autumn to settle down anywhere within a thousand miles of 
 England, why we will come and join you, and you know that will 
 be very pleasant. What say you to this little plan?" 
 
 In a few weeks after this proposition had been made, Vivian 
 Grey was in Germany. He M-andered for some months in that 
 beautiful land of rivers, among which flows the Rhine, matchless 
 in its loveliness ; and at length the pilgrim shook the dust off his 
 feet at Heidelburg, in which city Vivian proposed taking up his 
 residence. It is, in truth, a place of surpassing loveliness ; where 
 all the romantic wildness of German scenery is blended with the 
 soft beauty of the Italian. An immense plain, which, in its ex- 
 tent aud luxuriance, reminds you of the fertile tracts of Lombardy, 
 is bordered on one side by the Bergstrasse Mountains, and on the 
 other by the range of the Vosges. Situate on the river Neckar, 
 in a ravine of the Bergstrasse, amid mountains covered with vines, 
 is Heidelburg: its ruined castle backing the city, and still frown- 
 ing from one of the most commanding heights. In the middle of 
 the broad plain may be distinguished the shining spires of Mann- 
 heim, Worms, and Fraukenthal; and pouring its rich stream 
 through this luxuriant land, the beautiful and abounding Rhine 
 receives the tribute of the Neckar. The range of the Vosges 
 forms the extreme distance. 
 
 To the little world of the little city of which he was now an 
 habitant, Vivian Grey did not appear a broken-hearted man. He 
 lived neither as a recluse nor a misanthrope. He became ex- 
 tremely addicted to field sports, especially to hunting the wild 
 boar ; for he feared nothing so much as thought, and dreaded no- 
 thing so much as the solitude of his own chamber. He was an 
 early riser, to escape from hideous dreams ; and at break of dawn, 
 he wandered among the wild passes of the Bergstrasse ; or, climb- 
 ing a lofty ridge, was a watcher for the rising suu ; and in the 
 evening he sailed upon the star-lit Neckar. 
 
150 VIVIAN GEEY. 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Thou rapid Aar! thy waves are swollen by the snows of a 
 thousand hills — but for whom are thy leaping waters fed ? — Is it 
 for the Rhine ? 
 
 Calmly, placid Neckar, does thy blue stream glide through 
 thy vine-clad vales ; but calmer seems thy course when it touches 
 the rushing Rhine ! 
 
 How fragrant are the banks which are cooled by thy dark- green 
 waters, thou tranquil Maine ! — but is not the perfume sweeter of 
 the gardens of the Rhine ? 
 
 Thou impetuous Nah! I lingered by thine islands of nightin- 
 gales, and I asked thy rushing waters why they disturbed the 
 music of thy groves ? They told me, they were hastening to the 
 Rhine ! 
 
 Red Moselle ! fierce is the swell of thy spreading course ; but 
 why do thy bi'oad waters blush when they meet the Rhine? 
 
 Thou delicate Meuse ! how clear is the current of thy limpid 
 wave ; as the wife yields to the husband, do thy pure waters yield to 
 the Rhine ! 
 
 And thou, triumphant and imperial River, flushed with the 
 tribute of these vassal streams ! thou art thyself a tributary, and 
 hastenest even in the pride of conquest to confess thine own 
 vassalage ! But no superior stream exults in the homage of thy 
 servile waters : the Ocean, the eternal Ocean, alone comes forward 
 to receive thy kiss ! not as a conqueror, but as a parent, he wel- 
 comes with proud joy his gifted child, the offspring of his honour ; 
 thy duty — his delight ; thy tribute — thine own glory ! 
 
 Once more upon thy banks, most beauteous Rhine! In the 
 spring-time of my youth I gazed on thee, and deemed thee match- 
 less. Thy vine-enamoured mountains, thy spreading waters, thy 
 traditionary crags, thy shining cities, the sparkling villages of 
 thy winding shores, thy antique convents, thy grey and silent 
 castles, the purple glories of thy radiant grape, the vivid tints of 
 thy teeming flowers, the fragrance of thy sky, the melody of thy 
 birds, whose carols tell the pleasures of their sunny woods ; are 
 they less lovely now, less beautiful, less sweet ? 
 
 The keen emotions of our youth are often the occasion of our 
 estimating too ardently ; but tlie first impression of beauty, though, 
 often overcharged, is seldom supplanted: and as the first great 
 author which he reads is reverenced by the boy as the most 
 
VIVIAX GUET. 151 
 
 immortal, and the first beautiful woman that he meets is sancti- 
 fied by him as the most adorable; so the impressions created 
 upon us by those scenes of nature which first realise the romance 
 of our reveries never escape from our minds, and are ever conse- 
 crated in our memories ; — and thus some great spirits, after having 
 played their part on the theatre of the world, have retired from 
 the blaze of courts and cities, to the sweet seclusion of some spot, 
 with which they have accidentally met in the earliest years of 
 their career. 
 
 But we are to speak of one who had retired from the world 
 before his time. 
 
 Upwards of a year had elapsed since Vivian Grey left England. 
 The mode of life which he pursued at Heidelburg for many 
 months, has already been mentioned. He felt himself a broken- 
 hearted man, and looked for death, whose delay was no blessing; 
 but the feelings of youth which had misled him in his burning 
 hours of jo)', equally deceived him in his days of sorrow. He 
 lived ; and in the course of time, found each day that life was less 
 burdensome. The truth is, that if it be the lot of man to sufi"er, 
 it is also his fortune to forget. Oblivion and Soi-row share our 
 being, as Darkness and Light divide the course of time. It is not 
 in human nature to endure extremities, and sorrows soon destroy 
 either us or themselves. Perhaps the fate of Niobe is no fable, 
 but a type of the callousness of our nature. There is a time in 
 human sufiering when succeeding sorrows are but like snow fall- 
 ing on an iceberg. It is indeed horrible to think that our peace 
 of mind should arise, not from a retrospection of the past, but 
 from a forgetfulness of it ; but, though this peace be produced at 
 the best by a mental opiate, it is not valueless ; and Oblivion, 
 after all, is a just judge. As we retain but a faint remembrance 
 of our felicity, it is but fair that the smartest stroke of sorrow 
 should, if bitter, at least be brief. But in feeling- that he might 
 yet again mingle in the world, Vivian Grey also felt that he must 
 meet mankind with different feelings, and view their pursuits with 
 a different interest. He woke from his secret sorrow in as 
 changed a state of being, as the water nymph from her first em- 
 brace ; and he woke with a new possession, not only as miraculous 
 as Undine's soul, but gained at as great a price, and leading to as 
 bitter results. The nymph woke to new pleasures and to new 
 sorrows ; and innocent as an infant she deemed mankind a god, 
 and the world a paradise. Vivian Grey discovered that this deity 
 was but an idol of brass, and this garden of Eden but a savage 
 waste ; for if the river nymph had gained a soul, he had gained 
 experience. 
 
 Experience — mysterious spirit ! whose result is felt by all, whose 
 
153 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 nature is described by none. The father warns the son of thy 
 approach, and sometimes looks to thee as his offspring-'s cure, and 
 his own consolation. We hear of thee in the nursery — we hear 
 of thee in the world — we hear of thee in books ; but who has 
 recognised thee until he was thy subject, and who has discovered 
 the object of so much fame, until he has kissed thy chain ? To 
 gain thee is the work of all, and the curse of all : thou art at the 
 same time necessary to our happiness, and destructive of our 
 felicity ; thou art the saviour of all things, and the destroyer of all 
 things ; our best friend, and our bitterest enemy ; for thou teachest 
 us truth, and that truth is — despair. Ye youth of England, would 
 that ye could read this riddle ! 
 
 To wake from your bright hopes, and feel that all is vanity — to 
 be roused from your crafty plans, and know that all is worthless, 
 is a bitter, but your sure, destiny. Escape is impossible ; for 
 despair is the price of conviction. How many centuries have fled, 
 since Solomon, in his cedar palaces, sung the vanity of man! 
 Though his harp was golden, and his throne of ivory, his feelings 
 were not less keen, and his conviction not less complete. How 
 many sages of all nations have, since the monarch of Jerusalem, 
 -echoed his sad philosophy ! yet the vain bubble still glitters, and 
 still allures, and must for ever. 
 
 The genealogy of Experience is brief; for Experience is the 
 child of Thought, and Thought is the child of Action. We can- 
 not learn men from books, nor can we form, from written descrip- 
 tions, a more accurate idea of the movements of the human heart, 
 than we can of the movements of nature. A man may read all his 
 life, and form no conception of the rush of a mountain torrent, or 
 the waving of a forest of pines in a storm ; and a man may study 
 in his closet the heart of his fellow-creatures for ever, and have no 
 idea of the power of ambition, or the strength of revenge. 
 
 It is when we have acted ourselves, and have seen others acting ; 
 it is when we have laboured ourselves under the influence of our 
 passions, and have seen others labouring; it is when our great 
 hopes have been attained, or have been baulked ; it is when, after 
 haviug had the human heart revealed to us, we have the first 
 opportunity to tliink ; it is then, that the whole truth lights upon 
 us; it is then that we ask of ourselves whether it be wise to 
 endure such anxiety of mind, such agitation of spirit, such harrow- 
 ing of the soul, to gain what may cease to interest to-morrow, or 
 for which, at the best, a few years of enjoyment can alone be 
 afforded ; it is then that we waken to the hoUowuess of all human 
 things ; it is then that the sayings of sages and the warnings oi" 
 prophets are explained and understood ; it is then that we gain 
 ^Experience. 
 
VIVIAN GEEY. 153 
 
 Vivian Grey was now about to join, for the second time, tlie 
 great and agitated crowd of beings, who are all intent in the 
 search after that undiscoverable talisman — Hajipiness. That he 
 entertained any hope of being the successful inquirer, is not to be 
 imagined. He considered that the happiest moment in human 
 life is exactly the sensation of a sailor who has escaped a ship- 
 wreck ; and that the mere belief that his wishes are to be 
 indulged, is the greatest bliss enjoyed by man. 
 
 How far his belief was correct, how he prospered in this, his 
 second venture on the great ocean of life, it is our business to 
 relate. There were moments when he wished himself neither 
 experienced nor a philosopher — moments when he looked back to 
 the lost paradise of his innocent boyhood — those glorious hours, 
 when the unruffled river of his Life mirrored the cloudless lieaven 
 of his Hope ! 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 Vivian pulled up his horse as he ascended through the fine beecli 
 wood which leads immediately to the city of Frankfort, from the 
 Darmstadt road. The crowd seemed to increase every moment, 
 but as they were all hastening the same way, his progress was not 
 much impeded. It was Frankfort fair ; and all countenances were 
 expressive of that excitement which we always experience at great 
 meetings of our fellow-creatures ; whether the assemblies be for 
 slaughter, pleasure, or profit, and whether or not we ourselves join 
 in the banquet, the battle, or the fair. At the top of the hill is 
 an old Roman tower, and from this point the flourishing city of 
 Frankfort, with its picturesque Cathedral, its numerous villas, and 
 beautiful gardens in the middle of the fertile valley of the Maine, 
 burst upon Vivian's sight. On crossing the bridge over the river, 
 the crowd became almost impassable, and it was with the greatest 
 difficulty that Vivian steered his way through the old narrow wind- 
 ing streets, full of tall ancient houses, with heavy casements and 
 notched gable ends. These structures did not, however, at the 
 present moment, greet the traveller with their usual sombre and 
 antique appearance : their outside walls were, in most instances, 
 covered with pieces of broad cloth of the most showy colours ; red, 
 blue, and yellow predominating. These standards of trade were 
 not merely used for the purpose of exhibiting the quality of the 
 articles sold in the interior ; but, also, of informing the curious 
 traveller, the name and nation of their adventurous owners. In- 
 scriptions in German, French, Russian, English, Italian, and even. 
 Hebrew, appeared in striking characters on each woollen specimen; 
 
154 VIVTAN GBEY. 
 
 and, as if tliese were not sufficient to attract the attention of the 
 passenger, an active apprentice, or assistant, commented in elo- 
 quent terms on the peculiar fairness and honesty of his master. 
 The public squares, and other open spaces, and indeed every spot 
 which was secure from the hurrying wheels of the heavy old- 
 fashioned coaches of the Frankfort aristocracy, and the spirited 
 pawings of their sleek and long-tailed coach horses, were covered 
 with large and showy booths, which groaned under the accumulated 
 treasures of all countries: French silks and French clocks, ri- 
 valled Manchester cottons and Sheffield cutlery ; and assisted to 
 attract or entrap the gazer, in company with Venetian chains, 
 Neapolitan coral, and Vienna pipeheads : here was the booth of a 
 great bookseller, who looked to the approaching Leipsic fair for 
 some consolation for his slow sale, and the bad taste of the people 
 of Frankfort; and there was a dealer in Bologna sausages, who 
 felt quite convinced that in some things the taste of the Frankfort 
 public was by no means to be lightly spoken of. All was bustle, 
 bargaining, and business : there were quarrels and conversation in 
 all languages ; and Vivian Grey, although he had no chance either 
 of winning or losing money, was amused. 
 
 At last, Vivian gained the High Street ; and here, though the 
 crowd was not less, the space was greater ; and so in time he ar- 
 rived at the grand hotel of " the Roman Emperor," where he 
 stopped. It was a long time before he could be informed whether 
 Baron Julius von Konigstein at present honoured that respectable 
 establishment with his presence ; for, although Vivian did some- 
 times succeed in obtaining an audience of a hurrying waiter, that 
 personag-e, when in a hurry, has a peculiar habit of never attending 
 to a question wliich a traveller addresses to him. In this dilemma 
 Vivian was saluted by a stately-looking personage above the com- 
 mon height. He was dressed in a very splendid uniform of green 
 and gold, covered with embroidery, and glittering with frogs. He 
 wore a cocked hat, adorned with a flowing parti-coloured plume, 
 and from his broad golden belt was suspended a weapon of singular 
 shape, and costly workmanship. This personage was as stiff and 
 stately as he was magnificent. His eyes were studiously preserved 
 from the profanation of meeting the ground, and his well-supported 
 neck seldom condescended to move from its perpendicular position. 
 His coat was buttoned to the chin and over the breast, with the ex- 
 ception of one small aperture, which was elegantly filled up by a 
 delicate white cambric handkerchief, very redolent of rich per- 
 fumes. This gorgeous gentleman, who might have been mistaken 
 for an elector of the German Empire, had the Gennan Empire been 
 in existence, or the governor of the city at the least, turned out to 
 be the chasseur of the Baron von Konigstein ; and with Ma courtly 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 155 
 
 assistance, Vivian soon found himself ascending the staircase of the 
 Roman Empei'or. 
 
 Vivian was ushered into an apartment, in which he found three 
 or four individuals at breakfast. A middle-aged man of distin- 
 guished appearance, in a splendid chamber robe, sprung up from a 
 many- cushioned easy-chair, and seized his hand as he was 
 announced. 
 
 " My dear Mr. Grey ! I have left notes for you at the principal 
 hotels. And how is Eugene? wild blood for a student, but an ex- 
 cellent heart — and you have been so kind to him ! He feels under 
 such particular obligations to you. "Will you breakfast ? — Ah ! I 
 see you smile at my supposing a horseman unbreakfasted. And 
 have you ridden here from Heidelburg this morning ? Impossible ! 
 Only from Darmstadt ! I thought so ! You were at the Opera then 
 last night. And how is the little Signora ? We are to gain her 
 though ! trust the good people of Frankfort for that ! Pray be 
 seated, but really I am forgetting the commonest rules of breeding. 
 Next to the pleasure of having friends, is that of introducing them 
 to each other — Prince, you will have great pleasure in being intro- 
 duced to my friend Mr. Grey — Mr. Grey ! — Prince Salvinski ! my 
 particular friend, Prince Salvinski. The Count von Altenburgh ! 
 Mr. Grey ! my very particular friend, the Count von Altenburgh. 
 And the Chevalier de BoefBeurs ! Mr. Grey ! my most particular 
 friend, the Chevalier de Boeffleurs." 
 
 Baron Julius von Konigstein was minister to the Diet of Frank- 
 fort, from a first-rate German Power. In person he was short, 
 but delicately formed ; his head a little bald, but as he was only 
 five-and-thirty, this could scarcely be from age ; and his remaining 
 hair, black, glossy, and curling, proved that their companion ring- 
 lets had not been long lost. HLs features were small, but not 
 otherwise remarkable ; except a pair of liquid black eyes, of great 
 size, which would have hardly become a stoic, and which gleamed 
 with great meaning, and perpetual animation. 
 
 " I understand, Mr. Grey, that you are a regular philosopher. 
 Pray who is the favourite master ? Kant or Fichte ? or is there 
 any other new star who has discovered the origin of our essence, 
 and proved the non-necessity of eating ? Count, let me help you 
 to a little more of these saucisses aux choux. I am afraid, from 
 Eugene's account, that you are almost past redemption ; and I am 
 sorry to say, that although I am very desirous of being your phy- 
 sician and effecting your cure, Frankfort will supply me with very 
 few means to work your recovery. If you could but get me an 
 appointment once again to your delightful London, I might indeed 
 produce some effect ; or were I even at Berlin, or at your dehcious 
 Vienna, Count Altenburgh ! (the Count bowed) ; or at that Para- 
 
156 VIVIAN GEET. 
 
 d;s9 of women, Warsaw, Prince Salvinski ! ! (tlie Prince bowed) ; 
 or at Paris, Chevalier ! ! ! (the Chevalier bowed); why then, indeed, 
 you should have some difficulty in finding an excuse for being in 
 low spirits Avith Julius von Konigsteiu ! But, Frankfort, — eh ! de 
 Bosffleurs?" 
 
 " Oh ! Frankfort ! " sighed the French Chevalier, who was also 
 attached to a mission in this very city, and who was thinking of his 
 own gay Boulevards, and his brilliant Tuileries. 
 
 '•'We are mere citizens here!" continued the Baron, taking a 
 long pinch of snufF, — "mere citizens! Do you snuff?" and here 
 he extended to Vivian a gold box, covered with the portrait of a 
 crowned head, surrounded with diamonds. " A present from the 
 King of Sardinia, when I negotiated the marriage of the Duke 
 
 of and his niece, and settled the long-agitated controversy 
 
 about the right of anchovy fishing on the left shore of the Mediter- 
 ranean. 
 
 " But the women," continued the Baron, " the women — that is 
 a different thing. There is some amusement among the little 
 bourgeoises, who are glad enough to get rid of their commercial 
 beaus ; whose small talk, after a waltz, is about bills of exchange, 
 mixed up with a little patriotism about their free city, and some 
 chatter about what they call — ' the fine arts ;' their awful collec- 
 tions of ' the Dutch school : ' — school forsooth ! a cabbage, by 
 Gerard Dow ! and a candlestick, by Mieris ! And now will you 
 take a basin of soup, and warm yourself, while his Higlmesa con- 
 tinues his account of being frozen to death this spring at the top 
 of Mont-Blanc : how was it, Prince ? " 
 
 " Your Highness has been a great traveller ? " said Vivian. 
 
 " I have seen a little of most countries : these things are in- 
 teresting enough when we are young ; but when we get a little 
 more advanced in life, the novelty wears off, and the excitement 
 ceases. I have been in all quarters of the globe. In Europe I 
 have seen everything except the miracles of Prince Iloheulohe. 
 In Asia everything except the ruins of Babylon. In Africa, I 
 have seen everything but Timbuctoo ; and in America, everything 
 except Croker's Mountains." 
 
 Next to eating-, music is the business in which an Austrian is 
 most interested, and Count von Altenburgh having had the mis- 
 fortune of destroying, for the present, one great source of his 
 enjoyment, became now very anxious to know what chance there 
 existed of his receiving some consolation from the other. Push- 
 ing his plate briskly from him, he demanded with an anxious air — 
 " Can any gentleman inform me what chance there is of the Sig- 
 nora coming ? " 
 
 " No news to-day," said the Baron, with a mournful look ; " I am 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 157 
 
 almost in despair ; — what do you think of the last notes that have 
 been interchanged?" 
 
 " Very little chance," said the Chevalier de Boeffleurs, shaking 
 his head ; " really these burghers, with all their affected enthu- 
 siasm, have managed the business exceedingly bad. No opera can 
 possibly succeed, that is not conducted by a committee of noblemen." 
 
 " Certainly ! " said the Baron ; " we are sure then to have the 
 best singers, and be in the Gazette the same season." 
 
 '•' Which is much better, I think, Vou Konigsteiu, than paying 
 our bills, and receiving no pleasure." 
 
 " But, " continued the Baron, " these clumsy burghers, with 
 their affected enthusiasm, as you well observe, who could have con- 
 templated such novices in diplomacy ! Whatever may be the issue, 
 I can at least lay my head upon my pillow, and feel that I have 
 done my duty. Did not I, de Boeffleurs, first place the negotiation 
 on a basis of acknowledged feasibility and mutual benefit ? Who 
 drew the protocol, I should like to know ? Who baffled the in- 
 trigues of the English Minister, the Lord Amelius Fitz-fudge 
 Boroughby ? Who sat up one whole night with the Signora's friend, 
 the Russian Envoy, Baron Squallonofi" — and who was it that first 
 arranged about the extra chariot?" — and here the representative 
 of a first-rate German Power looked very much like a resigned 
 patriot, who feels that he deserves a ribbon. 
 
 "No doubt of it, my dear von Konigstein," echoed the French 
 Charge d'Affaires, " and I think, whatever may be the result, that 
 I, too, may look back to this negotiation with no ungratified feelings. 
 Had the arrangement been left as I had wished, mei'ely to the 
 ministers of the Great Powers, I am confident that the Signora 
 would have been singing this night in our Opera House." 
 
 " What is the grand point of difference at present?" asked the 
 Austrian. 
 
 " A terrific one," said the Baron ; " the lady demanded twenty 
 covers, two tables, two carriages, one of which I arranged should 
 be a chariot ; that at least the town owes to me ; and, what else ? 
 merely a town mansion and establishment. Exerting myself day 
 and night, these terms were, at length, agreed to by the muni- 
 cipality, and the lady was to ride over from Darmstadt to sign and 
 seal. In the course of her ride, she took a cursed fancy to the 
 country villa of a great Jew banker, and since that moment the 
 arrangement has gone off. We have offered her everything — the 
 commandant's country castle — his lady's country farm — tlie villa 
 of the director of the Opera — the retreat of our present prima 
 donna — all in vain. We have even hinted at a temporary repose 
 in a neighbouring royal residence — but all useless. The banker and 
 the Signora are equally intractable, and Frankfort is in despair." 
 
158 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 " She ought to have signed and sealed at Dannstadt," said the 
 Count, very indignantly. 
 
 " To be sure ! — they should have closed upon her caprice, and 
 taken her when she was in the fancy." 
 
 " Talking of Opera girls," comrueuced the Polish Prince, " I 
 remember the Countess KatsziUski " 
 
 " Your Highness has nothing upon your plate," quickly retorted 
 the Baron, who was in no humour for a story. 
 
 " Nothing more, I thank you," continued the Prince : " as I was 
 
 sayirg, I remember the Countess Katszinski " but just at this 
 
 moment the door opened, and Ernstorff entered and handed a dis- 
 patch to the Baron, recommending it to his Excellenc/s particular 
 attention. 
 
 "Business, I suppose," said the Plenipotentiary: "it may wait 
 till to-morrow." 
 
 " From M. Clarionet, your Excellency." 
 
 " From M. Clarionet ! " eagerly exclaimed the Baron, and tore 
 open the epistle. " Gentlemen ! congratulate me — congratulate 
 yourselves — congratulate Frankfort ; " and the diplomatist, over- 
 come, leant back in his chair. " She is ours, Salvinski ! she is 
 ours. Von Altenburgh ! she is ours, my dear de Boeffleurs! Mr. 
 Grey, you are most fortunate ; the Signora has signed and sealed 
 — all is arranged — she sings to-night ! What a fine spirited body 
 is this Frankfort municipality! what elevation of soul! what 
 genuine enthusiasm ! — eh ! de Baffleurs? " 
 
 " Most genuine ! " exclaimed the Chevalier, who hated German 
 music with all his heart, and was now humming an air from La 
 Dame Blanche. 
 
 " But mind, my dear friend — this is a secret, a cabinet secret — 
 the municipality are to have the gratification of announcing the 
 event to the city in a public decree — it is but fair. I feel that I 
 have only to hint, to secure your silence." 
 
 At this moment, with a thousand protestations of secrecy, the 
 party broke up, each hastening to have the credit of first spreading 
 the joyful intelligence through the circles, and of depriving the 
 Frankfort senate of their hard-earned gratification. The Baron, 
 who was in high spirits, ordered the carriage to drive Vivian round 
 the ramparts, Avhere he was to be introduced to some of the most 
 fashionable beauties, previous to the evening triumph. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Vivian passed a week very agreeably at Frankfort. In the 
 Baron and his friends he found the companions that he had need 
 
VIVIAN GKET. 159 
 
 of; their conversation and pursuits diverted his mind without en- 
 gaging his feelings, and allowed him no pause to brood. There 
 were moments, indeed, when he found in the Baron a companion 
 neither frivolous nor uninstructive. His Excellency had travelled 
 in most countries, and had profited by his travels. His taste for 
 the fine arts was equalled by his knowledge of them ; and his ac- 
 quaintance with many of the most eminent men of Europe enriched 
 his conversation with a variety of anecdotes, to which his lively 
 talents did ample justice. He seemed fond, at times, of showing- 
 Vivian that he was not a mere artificial man of the world, destitute 
 of all feelings, and thinking- only of himself: he recurred with 
 satisfaction to moments of his life, when his passions had been in 
 full play ; and, while he acknowledged the errors of his youth with 
 candour, he excused them with grace. In short, Vivian and he 
 became what the world calls friends ; that is to say, they were men 
 who had no objection to dine in each other's company, provided 
 the dhmer were good ; assist each other in any scrape, provided no 
 particular personal responsibility were incurred by the assistant ; 
 and live under the same roof, provided each were master of his 
 own time. Vivian and the Baron, indeed, did more than this — 
 they might have been described as particular friends — for his Ex- 
 cellency had persuaded our hero to accompany him for the summer 
 to the Baths of Ems, a celebrated German watering place, situate 
 in the duchy of Nassau, in the vicinity of the Rhine. 
 
 On the morrow they were to commence their journey. The fair 
 of Frankfort, which had now lasted nearly a month, was at its close. 
 A bright sunshiny afternoon was stealing into twilight, when 
 Vivian, escaping from the principal street, and the attractions of 
 the Braunfels, or chief shops under the Exchange, directed his steps 
 to some of the more remote and ancient streets. In crossing a 
 little square, his attention was excited by a crowd, which had as- 
 sembled round a conjuror ; who from the top of a small cart, which 
 he had converted into a stage, was haranguing, in front of a green 
 curtain, an audience with great fervency, and apparently with great 
 eflfect ; at least Vivian judged so, from the loud applauses which 
 constantly burst forth. The men pressed nearer, shouted, and 
 clapped their hands; and the anxious mothers struggled to lift their 
 brats higher in the air, that they might early form a due conception 
 of the powers of magic ; and learn that the m iternal threats which 
 were sometimes extended to them at home, were not mere idle 
 boasting. Altogether the men with their cocked hats, stiff holiday 
 coats, and long pipes ; the women with their glazed gowns of 
 bright fancy patterns, close lace caps, or richly-chased silver head- 
 gear; and the children with their gaping mouths and long lieads 
 of hair, offered quaint studies for a German or Flemish painter. 
 
160 VIVIAN GEEY. 
 
 Vivian became also one of the audience, and not an uninterested 
 one. 
 
 Tlie appearance of the conjuror was pecuHar. He was not much 
 more than five feet hig-h, but so slightly formed, that he reminded 
 you rather of the bo}^ than the dwarf. The upper part of his face 
 was even delicately moulded ; his sparkling black eyes became his 
 round forehead, which was not too much covered by his short 
 glossy black hair ; his complexion was clear, but quite olive ; his 
 nose was very small and straight, and contrasted singularly with 
 his enormous mouth, the thin bluish lips of which were seldom 
 closed, and consequently did not conceal his large square teeth, 
 which, though very white, were set apart, and were so solid that 
 they looked almost like double teeth. This enormous mouth, 
 which was supported by largo jawbones, attracted the attention of 
 the spectator so keenly that it was some time before you observed 
 the prodigious size of the ears, which also adorned this extra- 
 ordinary countenance. The costume of this being was not less 
 remarkable than his natural appearance. He wore a complete 
 imder-dress of pliant leather, which fitted close up to his throat, 
 and down to his wrists and ankles, where it was clasped with large 
 fastenings, either of gold or some gilt material. This, with the 
 addition of a species of hussar jacket of green cloth, which was 
 quite unadorned, with the exception of its vivid red lining, was the 
 sole covering of the conjuror; who, with a light cap and feather in 
 his hand, was now haranguing the spectators. The object of his 
 discourse was a panegyric of himself, and a satire on all other 
 conjurors. He was the only conjuror — the real one — a worthy 
 descendant of the magicians of old. 
 
 " Were I to tell that broad-faced Herr," continued the conjuror, 
 " who is now gaping opposite to me, that this rod is the rod of 
 Aaron, mayhap he would call me a liar ; yet were I to tell him 
 that he was the son of his father, he would not think it wonderful ! 
 And yet, can he prove it ? My friends, if I am a liar, the whole 
 world is a liar — and yet any one of you who'll go and proclaim 
 that on the Braunfels will get his skull cracked. Every truth is 
 not to be spoken, and every lie is not to be punished. I have told 
 you that it is better for you to spend your money in seeing my 
 tricks, than in swigging schnaps in the chimney corner ; and yet, 
 my friends, this may be a lie. I have told you that the profits of 
 this whole night shall be given to some poor and worthy person 
 in this town ; and perhaps I shall give them to myself. What 
 then ! I shall speak the truth ; and you will perhaps crack my 
 skull. Is this a reward for truth ? O generation of vipers ! My 
 friends, what is truth ? who can find it in Frankfort ? Suppose I 
 call upon you, Mr. Baker, and sup with you this eveuing; you will 
 
VIVIAN GEEY. 161 
 
 receive me as a neighbourly man should, tell me to make myself 
 at home, and do as I like. Is it not so ? I see you smile, as if 
 my visit would make you bring out one of the bottles of your best 
 Asmanshausen ! " 
 
 Here the crowd laughed out; for we are always glad when 
 there is any talk of another's hospitality being put to the test, 
 although we stand no chance of sharing in the entertainment our- 
 selves. The baker looked foolish, as all men singled out in a 
 crowd do. 
 
 " Well, well," continued the conjuror ; " I have no doubt his 
 wine would be as ready as your tobacco, Mr. Smith ; or a wafila 
 from your basket, my honest cake-seller ; " and so saying-, with a 
 long thin wand the conjuror jerked up the basket of an itinerant 
 and shouting pastry-cook, and immediately began to thrust the 
 contents into his mouth with a rapidity ludicrously miraculous. 
 The laugh now burst out again, but the honest baker joined in it 
 this time with an easy spirit. 
 
 "Be not disconcerted, my little custard-monger; if thou art 
 honest, thou shalt prosper. Did I not say that the profits of this 
 night were for the most poor and the most honest ? If thy stock 
 in trade were in thy basket, my raspberry-puff, verily thou art not 
 now tha richest here ; and so, therefore, if thy character be a fair 
 one — that is to say, if thou only cheat five times a-day, and give a 
 tenth of thy cheatery to the poor — thou shalt have the benefit. I 
 ask thee again, what is truth ? If I sup with the baker, and he 
 tells me to do what I like with all that is his, and I kiss his wife, 
 he wUl kick me out ; yet to kiss his wife might be my pleasure, if 
 her breath were sweet. I ask thee again, what is truth? Truth 
 they say lies in a well ; but perhaps this is a lie. How do we know 
 that truth is not in one of these two boxes ?" asked the conjuror, 
 placing his cap on his head, and holding one small snuff-box to a 
 tall, savage-looking, one-eyed Bohemian, who, with a comrade, had 
 walked over from the Austrian garrison at Mentz. 
 
 " I see but one box," growled the soldier. 
 
 " It is because thou hast only one eye, friend ; open the other, 
 and thou shalt see two," said tlie conjuror in a slow malicious tone, 
 with his neck extended, and his hand with the hateful box out- 
 stretched in it. 
 
 " Now, by our black Lady of Altoting, I'U soon stop thy prate, 
 cliitterling ! " bellowed the enraged Boliemian. 
 
 "Murder! — the protection of the free city against the Emperor 
 of Austria, the King of Bohemia, Hungary, and Lombardy ! " and 
 the knave retreated to the very extremity of the stage, and aflTect- 
 ing agitating fear, hid himself behind the green curtain, from a 
 side of which his head was alone visible, or rather an immense red 
 
 11 
 
162 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 tongue, which wagged in all shapes at the unlucky soldier, except 
 when it retired to the interior of his mouth, to enable him to 
 reiterate '^Murder!" and invoke the privileges of the free city of 
 Frankfort. 
 
 When the soldier was a little cooled, the conjui-or again came 
 forward, and, having moved his small magical table to a corner, 
 and lit two tapers, one of which he placed at each side of the 
 stage, he stripped off his hussar jacket, and began to imitate a 
 monkey ; an animal which, by the faint light, in his singular cos- 
 tume, he very much resembled. How amusing were his pranks ! 
 He first plundered a rice plantation, and then he cracked cocoa- 
 nuts ; then he washed his face, and arranged his toilet with his 
 right paw ; and finally, he ran a race with his own tail, which 
 humourous appendage to his body was very wittily performed for 
 the occasion, by a fragment of an old tarred rope. His gambols 
 were so diverting, tliat they even extracted applause from his 
 enemy the one-eyed serjeant ; and, emboldened by the acclama- 
 tions, from monkeys the conjuror began to imitate men. He first 
 drank like a Dutchman, and having reeled round with a thousand 
 oaths to the manifold amusement of the crowd, he suddenly began 
 to smoke like a Prussian. Nothing could be more admirable 
 than the look of complacent and pompous stolidity with w^iich he 
 accompanied each puff of his pipe. The applause was continued ; 
 and the one-eyed Bohemian serjeant, delighted at the ridicule 
 which was heaped on liis military rival, actually threw the mimic 
 some groschen. 
 
 "Keep thy pence, friend," said the conjuror ; " thou wilt soon 
 owe me more ; Ave have not yet closed accounts. ]\Iy friends, I 
 have drank like a Dutchman ; I have smoked like a Prussian ; and 
 now — I will eat like an Austrian ! " — -and liere the immense moutli 
 of the actor seemed distended even a hundred degrees bigger, 
 while with gloating eyes and extended arms he again set to at the 
 half-emptied wafila basket of the unhappy pastry-cook. 
 
 " Now, by our black Lady of Altoting, thou art an impudent 
 varlet!" growled the Austrian soldier. 
 
 " You are losing your temper again," retorted the glutton, with 
 his mouth full ; " how difficult you are to please ! — Well, then, if 
 the Austrians may not be touched, what say you to a Bohemian — 
 a tall one-eyed Bohemian serjeant, with an appetite like a hog, 
 and a liver like a lizard ?" 
 
 "Now, by our black Lady of Altoting, this is too much!" and 
 the soldier sprang at the cojunror. 
 
 " Hold him ! " cried Vivian Grey ; for the mob, frightened at 
 the soldier, gave way. 
 
 " There is a gentle's voice under a dark cloak ! " cried the con- 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 163 
 
 juror ; " but I want no assistance ; " and so saying, with a dex- 
 terous spring the conjuror leaped over the lieads of two or three 
 staring children, and lighted on the nape of the Serjeant's gigantic 
 neck ; placing his forefingers behind each of the soldier's ears, he 
 threatened to slit them immediately, if he were not quiet. The 
 Serjeant's companion, of course, came to his rescue, but Vivian 
 engaged him, and attempted to arrange matters. " My friends, 
 surely a gay word at a fair is not to meet mth military punish- 
 ment ! What is the use of living in the free city of Frankfort, or 
 indeed, in any other city, if jokes are to be answered with oaths, 
 and a light laugh met with a heavy blow ? Avoid bloodshed, if 
 possible, but stand by the conjuror. His business is gibes and 
 jests, and this is the first time that I ever saw Merry Andrew 
 arrested. Come, my good fellows ! " said he to the soldiers, " we 
 had better be off: men so important as you and I should not be 
 spectators of these mummeries." The Austrians, who understood 
 A^ivian's compliment literally, were not sorry to make a dignified 
 retreat ; particularly as the mob, encouraged by Vivian's int-er- 
 ference, began to show fight. Vivian also took his departure as 
 soon as he could possibly steal ofi" unnoticed ; but not before he 
 had been thanked by the conjuror. 
 
 " I knew there was gentle blood under that cloak. If you like 
 to see the Mystery of the Crucifixion, with the Resurrection, and 
 real fireworks, it begins at eight o'clock, and you shall be admitted 
 gratis. I knew there was gentle blood under that cloak, and some 
 day or other, when your Highness is in distress, you shall not want 
 the aid of Essper George ! " 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 It was late in the evening, when a britzska stopped at the post- 
 house of Coblentz. The passage-boat from Bingen had just ar- 
 rived ; and a portly judge from the Danube, a tall, gaunt Prussian 
 ofiicer, a sketching English artist, two University students, and 
 some cloth-merchants, returning from Frankfort fair, were busily 
 occupied at a long table in the centre of the room, at an ample 
 banquet, in which sour-crout, cherry soup, and savory sausages 
 were not wanting. 80 keen were the appetites of these worthies, 
 that the entrance of the new comers, who seated themselves at a 
 small table in the corner of the room, was scarcely noticed ; and 
 for half an hour nothing was heard but the sound of crashing jaw.^;, 
 and of rattling knives and forks. How singular is the sight of a 
 dozen hungry individuals intent upon their prey ! What a noisy 
 silence ! A human voice was at length heard. It proceeded from 
 
164 VIVIAN GKEY. 
 
 the fat judge ; a man at once convivial, dignified, and economical : 
 he had not spoken for two minutes before his character was evident 
 to every jjerson in the room, although he flattered himself that his 
 secret purpose was concealed from all. Tired with the thin Mo- 
 selle gratuitously allowed to the table, the judge wished to com- 
 fort Iiimself with a glass of more generous liquor ; aware of the 
 price of a bottle of good Rudesheimer, he was desirous of forming 
 a. co-partnership with one or two gentlemen in the venture ; still 
 more aware of his exalted situation, he felt it did not become him 
 to appear in the eyes of any one as an unsuccessful suppliant. 
 
 " This Moselle is very thin," observed the judge, shaking his 
 head. 
 
 " Very fair table-wine, I think," said the artist, refilling his 
 tumbler, and then proceeding with his sketch, which was a rough 
 likeness, in black chalk, of the worthy magistrate himself. 
 
 "Very good wine, I think," swore the Prussian, taking the 
 bottle. With the officer there was certainly no chance. 
 
 The cloth-merchants mixed even this thin Moselle with water, 
 and therefore they could hardly be looked to as boon companions ; 
 -and the students were alone left. A German student is no flincher 
 .at the bottle, although he generally drinks beer. These gentry, 
 however, were no great favourites with the magistrate, who was a 
 loyal man, of regular habits, and no encourager of brawls, duels, 
 and other still more disgraceful outrages ; to all which abomina- 
 tions, besides drinking beer and chewing tobacco, the German 
 student is remarkably addicted : but in the present case, what was 
 to be done ? He offered the nearest a pinch of snuff, as a mode of 
 commencing his acquaintance, and cultivating his complacency. 
 The student dug his thumb into the box, and with the additional 
 aid of the fore-finger sweeping out half its contents, growled out 
 something like thanks, and then drew up in his seat, as if he had 
 too warmly encouraged the impertinent intrusion of a Philistine, 
 to whom he had never been introduced. 
 
 The cloth-merchant, ceasing from sipping his meek liquor, and 
 taking out of his pocket a letter, from which he tore oft' tlie back, 
 carefully commenced collecting with his fore-finger the particles of 
 dispersed snuff in a small pyramid, which, when formed, was dex- 
 terously slided into the paper, then folded up and put into his 
 pocket ; the prudent merchant contenting himself for the moment 
 with the refreshment which was afforded to his senses by the truant 
 particles which had remained in his nail. 
 
 " Waiter, a bottle of Rudesheimer ! " bellowed the judge; "and 
 if any gentleman or gentlemen would like to join me, they may," 
 he added, in a more subdued tone. No one answered, and the 
 bottle was put down. The judge slowly poured out the bright yel- 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 1G5 
 
 low fluid into a tall bell glass, adorned with a beautiful and en- 
 cii'cling wreath of vine leaves : he held the glass a moment before 
 the lamp, for his eye to dwell with still greater advantage on the 
 transparent radiancy of the contents ; and then deliberately pouring 
 them down his throat, and allowing them to dwell a moment on his 
 palate, he uttered an emphatic "hah!" and sucking in his breath, 
 leaned back in his chair. The student immediately poured out a 
 glass from the same bottle, and drank it off. The judge gave him 
 a look ; — and then blessed himself that, though his boon companion 
 was a brute, still he would lessen the expense of the bottle, which 
 nearly amounted to a day's pay ; and so he again filled his glass — 
 but this was merely to secure his fair portion. He saw the student 
 was a rapid drinker ; and, although he did not like to hurry his 
 own enjoyment, he thought it most prudent to keep his glass well 
 stored by his side. 
 
 " I hope your Lordships have had a pleasant voyage," exclaimed 
 a man, entering the room rapidly as he spoke ; and, deliberately 
 walking up to the table, he pushed between two of the cloth-mer- 
 chants, who quietly made way ; and then placing a small square 
 box before him, immediately opened it, and sweeping aside the 
 dishes and glasses which surrounded him, began to fill their 2)laces 
 with cups, balls, rings, and other mysterious-looking matters, which 
 generally accompany a conjuror. 
 
 " I hope your Lordships have had a pleasant voyage. I have 
 been thinking of you all the day. (Here the cups were arranged.) 
 Next to myself, I am interested for ray friends. (Here the rice 
 was sprinlded.) I came from Fairy-land this morning. (Here 
 the trick was executed.) Will any gentleman lend me a handker- 
 chief? Now, sir, tie any knot you choose: — tighter — tighter — 
 tight as you can — tight as you can : — now pull ! — Why, sir, where's 
 your knot?" Here most of the company good-naturedly laughed 
 at a trick which had amused them before a hundred times. But 
 the dignified judge had no taste for such trivial amusements ; and, 
 besides, he thought that all this noise spoilt the pleasure of his wine,, 
 and prevented him from catching the flavour of his Rudesheimer. 
 Moreover, the judge was not in a very good humour. The student 
 appeared to have very little idea of the rules and regulations of a 
 fair partnership ; for not only did he not regulate his draughts by 
 the moderate example of his bottle companion, but actually filled 
 the glass of his University friend, and even offered the precious 
 green flask to his neighbour, the cloth-merchant. That humble 
 individual modestly refused the proffer. The very unexpected cir- 
 cumstance of having his health drank by a stranger seemed alone 
 to have produced a great impression upon him ; and adding a little 
 more water to his already diluted potation, he bowed most reve- 
 
J66 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 rently to the student, who, in return, did not notice him. All these 
 little circumstances prevented the judge from laughing at the per- 
 formances of our friend Essper George: for we need liardly 
 mention that the conjuror was no other. His ill-humour did uot 
 escape the lord of the cups and balls ; who, as was his custom, im- 
 mediately began to torment him. 
 
 "Will you choose a card?" asked the magician of the judge, 
 with a most humble look. 
 
 " No, sir ! " 
 
 Essper George looked very penitent, as if he felt he had taken 
 a great liberty by his application ; and so to compensate for his 
 incorrect behaviour, he asked the magistrate whether he would 
 have the goodness to lend him his watch. The judge was irate, 
 and determined to give the intruder a set down. 
 
 " I am not one of those who can be amused by tricks that his 
 grandfather knew." 
 
 " Grandfather! " shrieked Essper ; "what a wonderful grandfather 
 yours must have been ! All my tricks are fresh from Fairy-land 
 this morning. Grandfather, indeed ! Pray, is this your grand- 
 father?" and here the conjuror, leaning over the table, with a 
 rapid catch drew out from the fat paunch of the judge, a long, 
 grinning wooden figure, with great staring eyes, and the parrot 
 nose of a Pulcinello. The laugh which followed this sleight-of- 
 hand was loud, long, and universal. The judge lost his temper ; 
 and Essper George took the opportunity of the confusion to drink 
 oft' the glass of Rudesheimer, which stood, as we have mentioned, 
 ready charged, at the magistrate's elbow. 
 
 The waiter now went rouud to collect the money of the various 
 guests who had partaken of the boat-supper; and, of course, 
 charged the judge extra for his ordered bottle, bowing at the same 
 time very low, as was jwoper to so good a customer. These little 
 attentions at inns encourage expenditure. The judge tried at the 
 same time the bottle, which he found empty, and applied to his 
 two boon companions for their quota ; but the students affected a 
 sort of brutal surprise at any one having the impudence to imagine 
 that they were going to pay their proportion ; and Hinging down 
 the money for their own supper on the table, they retired ; the 
 magistrate, calling loudly for the landlord, followed them out of 
 the room. 
 
 Essper George stood moralizing at the table, and emptying every 
 glass whose contents were not utterly drained; with the exception 
 of the tumblers of the cloth-merchants, of whose lienor he did not 
 approve. 
 
 " Poor man ! to got only one glass out of his own bottle ! Ay ! 
 call for M. Maas ; threaten as you will. Your grandfather will 
 
VIVIAN GEEY. 167 
 
 not help you here. Blood out of a wall, and money out of a stu- 
 dent, come the same day.— Ah! is your Excellency here?" said 
 Essper, turning round to our two travellers with affected surprise, 
 although he had observed them the whole time. Is your Excel- 
 lency here ? I have been looking for you through Frankfort this 
 whole mornuig. There! — it will do for your glass. It is of 
 chamois leather ; and I made it myself, from a beast I caught last 
 summer in the valley of the Rhone." So saying, he threw over 
 Vivian'? neck a neat chain, or cord, of very curiously-worked 
 leather. 
 
 " Wlio the devil is this, Grey ?" asked the Baron. 
 
 " A funny knave, whom I once saved from a thrashing, or some- 
 thing of the kind, which I do him the justice to say he well 
 deserved." 
 
 " Who the devil is this ? " said Essper George. " Why that is 
 exactly the same question I myself asked when I saw a tall, 
 pompous, proud fellow, dressed like a peacock on a May morning, 
 standing at the door just now. He looked as if he would pass 
 himself off for an ambassador at least ; but I told him that if he 
 got his wages paid, he Avas luckier than most servants. Was I 
 right, your Excellency ? " 
 
 "Poor Ernstorffl" said the Baron, laughing. " Yes ; he cer- 
 tainly gets paid. Here, you are a clever varlet ; fill your glass." 
 
 " No, no wine. — Don't you hear the brawling, and nearly the 
 bloodshed, which are going on up-stairs about a sour bottle of Rudes- 
 heimer ? and here I see two gentles who have ordered the best 
 wine merely to show that they are masters and not servants of the 
 green peacock — andlo! cannot get through a glass — Lord! lord! 
 what is man ? If my fat friend, and his grandfather, would but come 
 down stairs again, here is liquor enough to make wine and water 
 of the Danube ; for he comes from thence by his accent. No, I'll 
 have none of your wine ; keep it to throw on the sandy floor, that 
 the dust may not hurt your delicate shoes, nor dirt the hand of 
 the gentleman in green and gold when he cleans them for you 
 in the morning." 
 
 Here the Baron laughed again, and, as he bore his impertinence, 
 Essper George immediately became polite. 
 
 " Does your Highness go to Ems ?" 
 
 " We hardly know, my friend." 
 
 " Oh ! go there, gentlemen. I have tried them all — Aix-la- 
 Chapelle, Spa, Wisbaden, Carlsbad, Pyrmont, every one of them ; 
 but what are these to Ems ? there we all live in the same house, 
 and eat from the same table. When there, I feel that you are all 
 under my protection — I consider you all as my children. Besides, 
 the country — how delightful! the mountains — the valleys — the 
 
168 VIVIAN GEEY. 
 
 river — the woods — and then the company so select ! no sharpers 
 — no adventurers — no blacklegs : at Ems you can be taken in by 
 no one except your intimate friend. To Ems, by all means. I 
 would advise you, however, to send the gentleman in the cocked 
 hat on before you to engage rooms ; for I can assure you that you 
 will have a hard chance ; the baths are very full." 
 
 "And how do you get there, Essper?" asked Vivian. 
 
 "Those are subjects on which I never speak," answered the 
 conjuror, with a solemn air. • 
 
 "But have you all your stock in trade with you, my good fellow? 
 Where is the Mystery ? " 
 
 " Sold, sir, sold ! I never keep to anything long ; Variety is tlie 
 mother of Enjoyment. At Ems I shall not be a conjuror: but I 
 never part with my box. It takes no more room than one of 
 those medicine chests, which I dare say you have got with you in 
 your carriage, to prop up your couple of shattered constitutions." 
 
 " By Jove ! you are a merry impudent fellow," said the Baron ; 
 " and if you like to get up behind my britzska, you may." 
 
 " No ; I carry my own box, and my own body, and I shall be at 
 Ems to-morrow in time enough to receive your Lordships." 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 In a delightful valley of Nassau, formed by the picturesque 
 windings of the Taunus Mountains, and on the banks of the noisy 
 river Lahn, stands a vast brick pile, of irregular architecture, 
 which nearly covers an acre of ground. This building was for- 
 merly a favourite palace of the ducal house of Nassau ; but the 
 present Prince has thought proper to let out the former residence 
 of his family, as an hotel for the accommodation of the company, 
 who in the season frequent this, the most lovely spot in his lovely 
 little duchy. This extensive building contains two hundred and 
 thirty rooms, and eighty baths ; and these apartments, which are 
 under the management of an official agent, who lives in the 
 " Princely Bathing House," for such is its present dignified title, 
 are to be engaged at fixed prices, which are marked over the 
 doors. All the rooms in the upper story of the Princely Bathing 
 House open on, or are almost immediately connected with, a long 
 corridor, which extends the whole length of tlie building. The 
 ground floor, besides the space occupied by the baths, also aflbrds 
 a spacious promenade, arched with stone, and surrounded with 
 stalls, behind which arc marshalled vendors of all the possible 
 articles which can be required by the necessities of the frequenters 
 of a watering-place. There you are greeted by the jeweller of the 
 
VIVIAN GRKT. 169 
 
 Palais Royal, and the marchande de mode of the Rue de la Paix ; 
 the printseller from Manheim, and the china-dealer from Dresden ; 
 and other small speculators in the various fancy articles which 
 abound in Vienna, Berlin, Geneva, Basle, Strasburgh, and Lau- 
 sanne : such as pipes, costumes of Swiss peasantry, crosses of 
 Mont Blanc crystal, and all varieties of national bijouterie. All 
 things may here be sold, save those which administer to the nourish- 
 ment of the body, or the pleasure of the palate. Let not those of 
 my readers, who have already planned a trip to the sweet vales of 
 the Taunus, be frightened by this last sentence. At Ems " eat- 
 ables and drinkables" are excellent, and abounding ; but they are 
 solely supplied by the restaurateur, who farms the monopoly from 
 the Duke. This gentleman, who is a pupil of Beauvillier's, and 
 who has conceived an exquisite cuisine, by adding to the lighter 
 graces of French cookery something of the more solid virtues of 
 the German, presides in a saloon of vast size and magnificent de- 
 coration ; in which, during the season, upwards of three hundred 
 persons frequent the Table d'Hote. It is the etiquette at Ems, 
 that, however distinguished or however humble the rank of the 
 visitors, their fare and their treatment must be alike. In one of 
 the most aristocratic countries in the world, the sovereign prince 
 and his tradesman subject may be found seated in the morning at 
 the same board, and eating from the same dish ; as in the evening 
 they may be seen staking on the same colour at the gaming-table, 
 and sharing in the same interest at the Redoute. 
 
 The situation of Ems is delightful. The mountains which form 
 the valley are not, as in Switzerland, so elevated that they confine 
 the air, or seem to impede the facility of breathing. In their fan- 
 tastic forms, the picturesque is not lost in the monotonous ; and in 
 the rich covering of their various woods, the admiring eye finds, at 
 the same time, beauty and repose. Opposite the ancient palace, on 
 the banks of the Lahn, are the gardens. In these, in a pavilion, 
 a band of musicians seldom cease from enchanting the visitors by 
 their execution of the most favourite specimens of German and 
 Italian music. Numberless acacia arbours, and retired sylvan seats, 
 are here to be found, where the student, or the contemplative, may 
 seek refuge from the noise of his more gay companions, and the 
 tedium of eternal conversation. In these gardens, also, are the 
 billiard-room, and another saloon, in which each night meet, not 
 merely those who are interested in the mysteries of rouge-et-noir, 
 and the chances of roulette, but, in general, the whole of the 
 company, male and female, who are frequenting the baths. In 
 quitting the gardens for a moment, we must not omit mentioning 
 the interesting booth of our friend the restaurateur, where coflfee, 
 clear and hot, and exquisite confectionery, are never wanting. Nor 
 
170 VIVIAN GREY, 
 
 should we forg'et the glittering pennons of the gay boats which 
 glide along the Lahn ; nor the handsome donkej-?, who, with their 
 white saddles and red bridles, seem not unworthy of the princesses 
 whom they sometimes bear. The gardens, with an alley of lime- 
 trees, which are farther on, near the banks of the river, afford easy 
 promenades to the sick and debilitated ; but the more robust and 
 active need not fear monotony in the valley of the Lahn. If they 
 sigh for the champaign country, they can climb the wild passes of 
 the encircling mountains, and from their tops enjoy the most mag- 
 nificent views of the Rhine-laud. There they may gaze on that 
 mighty river, flowing through the prohfic plain, which, at the same 
 time, it nourishes and adorns, — bounded on each side by moun- 
 tains of every form, clothed with wood, or crowned with castles. 
 Or, if they fear the fatigues of the ascent, they may wander far- 
 ther up^the valley, and in the wild dells, romantic forests, and grey 
 ruins of Stein and Nassau, conjure up the old times of feudal 
 tyranny when the forest was the only free land ; and he who out- 
 raged the laws, the only one who did not suffer from their autho- 
 rity. 
 
 Besides the Princely Bathing House, I must mention, that there 
 was another old and extensive building near it, which, in very full 
 seasons, also accommodated visitors on the same system as the 
 palace. At present, this adjoining building was solely occupied by 
 a Russian Grand-Duke, who had engaged it for the season. 
 
 Such is a slight description of Ems, a place almost of unique 
 character; for it is a watering-place Avith every convenience, 
 luxury, and accommodation; and yet without shops, streets, or 
 houses. 
 
 The Baron and Vivian were fortunate in finding rooms, for the 
 Baths were very full; the extraordinary beauty of the weather 
 having occasioned a very early season. They found themselves at 
 the baths early on the morning after their arrival at Coblentz, and at 
 three o'clock in the same day had taken their places at the dinner- 
 table in the great saloon. At the long table upwards of two hun- 
 dred and fifty guests were assembled, of diflerent nations, and of very 
 different characters. There was the cunnhig intriguing Greek, 
 who served well his imperial master the Russian. The order of 
 the patron saint of Moscow, and the glittering stars of other 
 nations which sparkled on his green uniform, told how well he 
 had laboured for the interest of all other countries except his 
 own ; but his clear pale complexion, his delicately-trimmed mus- 
 tachio^ his lofty forehead, his arched eyebrow, and his Eastern 
 eye, recalled to the traveller, in spite of his barbarian trappings, 
 the tine countenances of the ^gean ; and became a form which 
 apparently might have struggled in Thermopylte. Next to him 
 
VIVIAN GFvET. 171 
 
 was the Austrian diplomatist, the Sosia of all cabinets ; in whose 
 gay address and rattling conversation you could hardly recognise 
 the sophistical defender of unauthorised invasion, and tlie subtle 
 inventor of Holy Alliances aud Imperial Leagues. Then came 
 the rich usurer from Frankfort, or the prosperous merchant from 
 Hamburgh; who, with his -wife and daughtei-s, were seeking some 
 recreation from his flourishing counting-house, in the sylvan 
 gaieties of a German bathing-place. Flirting with these, was an 
 adventurous dancing-master from Paris, whose profession at 
 present was kept in the background, and whose well-curled black 
 hair, diamond pin, and frogged coat, hinted at the magnifico 
 incog, and also enabled him, if he did not choose in time to follow 
 his own profession, to pursue another one, which he had also 
 studied, in the profitable mystery of the Redoute. There were 
 many other individuals, whose common-place appearance did not 
 reveal a character which perhaps they did not possess. There 
 were officers in all uniforms, — and there were some uniforms 
 without officers. But all looked perfectly comme il faut, and on 
 the whole very select ; and if the great persons endeavoured for a 
 moment to forget their dignity, still these slight improprieties 
 were amply made up by the affected dignity of those little persons 
 who had none to forget. 
 
 "Aud how like you the Baths of Ems?" the Baron asked of 
 Vivian; "we shall get better seats to-morrow, and perhaps be 
 among those whom you shall know. I see many friends and some 
 agTeeable ones. In the meantime, you must make a good dinner 
 to-day, and I yvi]l amuse you, and assist your digestion by putting 
 you up to some of the characters with whom you are dining." 
 
 At this moment a party entered the room, who were rather 
 late iu their appearance, but who attracted the attention of 
 Vivian. The group consisted of three persons ; a very good- 
 looking young- man, who supported on each arm a female. 
 The lady on his right arm was apparently of about five-and- 
 twenty years of age. She was of majestic stature; her com- 
 plexion of untinged purity. Her features were like those concep- 
 tions of Grecian sculptors, which, in moments of despondency, we 
 sometimes believe to be ideal. Her full eyes were of the same 
 deep blue as a mountain-lake, and gleamed from under their long 
 lashes, as that purest of waters beneath its fringing sedge. Her 
 brown light hair was braided from her high forehead, and hung in 
 long full curls over her neck ; the mass gathered up into a Grecian 
 knot, and confined by a bandeau of cameos. She wore a dress of 
 black velvet, whose folding drapery was confined round a waist 
 which was in exact symmetry with the proportions of her full bust 
 aud the polished roundness of her bending ueck. The counte- 
 
172 VIVTAX GRKY. 
 
 nance of the lady was dig-uified, -without any expression of pride ; 
 and reserved, without any of the harshness of austerity. In gazing 
 on her, the enraptured spectator for a moment believed that 
 Minerva had forgotten her severity, and had entered into a 
 delightful rivalry with Venus. 
 
 Her companion was much younger, not so tall, and of slender 
 form. The long tresses of her chestnut hair shaded her oval 
 face. Her small aquiline nose, bright hazel eyes, delicate mouth, 
 and the deep colour of her lips, were as remarkable as the trans- 
 parency of her complexion. The flush of her cheek was singular 
 — it was of a brilliant pink : you may find it in the lip of an Indian 
 shell. Tlie blue veins played beneath her arched forehead, like 
 lightning beneath a rainbow. She was dressed in white, and a 
 damask rose, half hid in her clustering hair, was her only orna- 
 ment. This lovely creature glided by Vivian Grey almost un- 
 noticed, so fixed was his gaze on her companion. Yet, magnifi- 
 cent as was the style of Lady Madeleine Trevor, there were few 
 who preferred even her commanding graces to the softer beauties 
 of Violet Fane. 
 
 This party having passed Vivian, proceeded to the top of the 
 room, where places had been kept for them. Vivian's eye watched 
 them till they were lost among surrounding visitors : their peculiar 
 loveliness could not deceive him. 
 
 " English, no doubt," observed he to the Baron; " who can they 
 be?" 
 
 "I have not the least idea — that is, I do not exactly know — I 
 think they are English," answered the Baron, in so confused a 
 manner that Vivian rather stared. After musing a moment, the 
 Baron recovered himself. 
 
 " The unexpected sight of a face, we feel that we know, and 
 yet cannot immediately recognise, is extremely annoying — it is 
 almost agitating. They are English ; the lady in black is Lady 
 Madeleine Trevor ; I knew her in London." 
 
 "And the gentleman ?" asked Vivian : "is the gentleman Sir. 
 Trevor?" 
 
 " No ; Trevor, poor Trevor is dead, I think — is, I am sure, dead. 
 
 That, I am confident, is not he. He was of the family, and 
 
 was in office when I was in England. It was in my diplomatic 
 capacity that I first became acquainted with him. Lady Made- 
 leine was, and, as you see, is, a charming woman, — a very charming' 
 woman is Lady Madeleine Trevor." 
 
 " And the young lady with her ? " 
 
 " And the young lady with her — I cannot exactly say — I do not 
 exactly know. Her face is familiar to me, and yet I cannot 
 remember her name. She must have been very young, as you 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 173 
 
 may see, when I was in England ; she cannot now be above 
 eighteen. Miss Fane must therefore have been very young when 
 I was in England. Miss Fane! — how singular I should have 
 recalled her name! — that is her name — Violet Fane — a cousin 
 or some relation of Lady Madeleine; — good family. Will you 
 have some soup?" 
 
 Whether it were from not being among his friends, or some 
 other cause, the Baron was certainly not in his usual spirits this 
 day at dinner. Conversation, which with him was generally as 
 easy as it was brilliant — like a fountain at the same time sparkling 
 and fluent — was evidently constrained. For a few minutes he 
 talked very fast, and was then uncommunicative, absent, and dull. 
 He moreover drank a great deal of wine, which was not his 
 custom ; but the grape did not inspire him. Vivian found amuse- 
 ment in his next neighbour, a forward, bustling man, clever in his 
 talk, very fine, but rather vulgar. He was the manager of a 
 company of Austrian actors, and had come to Ems on the chance 
 of forming an engagement for his troop, who generally performed 
 at Vienna. He had been successful in his adventure, the Arch- 
 duke having engaged the whole band at the New House, and in 
 a few days the troop were to arrive ; at which time, the manager 
 was to drop the character of a travelling gentleman, and cease to 
 dine at the Table d'Hote of Ems. From this man Vivian learnt 
 that Lady Madeleine Trevor had been at the Baths for some time 
 before the season commenced : that at present, hers was the party 
 which, from its long stay, and eminent rank, gave the tone to the 
 amusements of the place ; the influential circle which those who 
 have frequented watering-places have often observed, and which 
 may be seen at Eras, Spa, or Pyrraont, equally as at Harrowgate, 
 Tunbridge Weils, or Cheltenham. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 When dinner was finished, the party broke up, and most of 
 them assembled in the gardens. The Baron, whose countenance 
 had assumed its wonted cheerfulness, and who excused his previous 
 dulnessby the usual story of a sudden headache, proposed to Vivian 
 to join the promenade. The gardens wene very full, and the 
 Baron recognised many of his acquaintance. 
 
 " My dear Colonel, — who possibly expected to meet you here ? 
 why ! did you dine in the saloon ? 1 only arrived this morning 
 — this is my friend, Mr. Grey — Colonel von Trurapetsou." 
 
 "An Euglishman, I believe?" said the Colonel, bowing. He 
 was a starch militaire, with a blue frock coat buttoned up to his 
 
174 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 chin, a bald head with a few grey hairs, and long thin mustachios 
 like a mandarin's. "An Englishman, I believe; — pray, sir, -will 
 you inform me whether the household troops in England wear the 
 Marboeuf cuirass?" 
 
 " Sir ! " said Vivian. 
 
 " I esteem myself particularly fortunate in thus meeting with an 
 English gentleman. It was only at dinner to-day that a contro- 
 versy arose between Major von Musquetoon and the Prince of 
 Buttonstein on this point. As I said to the Prince, you may argue 
 for ever, for at present we cannot decide the fact. How little did 
 I think when I parted from the Major, that, in a few minutes, 
 I should be able to settle the question beyond a doubt; — I 
 esteem myself particularly fortunate in meeting with an English- 
 man." 
 
 " I regret to say, Colonel, that the question is one that I cannot 
 decide." 
 
 " Sir, I wish you good morning," said the Colonel, very drily ; 
 and, staring keenly at VivLan, he walked away. 
 
 " He is good enough to fight, I suppose," said the Baron, with a 
 smile and shrug of the shoulders, which seemed to return thanks 
 to Providence, for having been educated in the civil service. 
 
 At this moment Lady Madeleine Trevor, leaning on the arm of 
 the same gentleman, passed, and the Baron bowed. The bow was 
 coldly returned. 
 
 " You know her Ladyship, then ! — well ! " 
 
 " I did know her," said the Baron, " but I see from her bow that 
 I am at present in no very high favour. The truth is, she is a 
 charming woman, but I never expected to see her in Germany, and 
 there was some little commission of hers which I neglected — some 
 little order for Eau de Cologne — or a message about a worked 
 pocket handkerchief, which I utterly forgot ; — and then, I never 
 wrote ! — and you know. Grey, that these little sins of omission 
 are never forgiven by women." 
 
 " My dear friend, De Konigstein — one pinch ! one pinch ! " 
 chirped out a little old odd-looking man, with a very poudre head, 
 and dressed in a costume in which the glories of the vieille cour 
 seemed to retire with reluctance. A diamond ring twinkled on 
 the snuSy hand, which was encircled by a rich ruffle of dirty lace. 
 The brown coat was, not modern, and yet not quite such an one 
 as was worn by its master, when he went to see the King dine in 
 public at Versailles, before the Revolution : — large silver buckles 
 still adorned the well-polished shoes: and silk stockings, whose hue 
 was originally black, were picked out, with clock-work of gold. 
 
 " My dear Marquis— I am most happy to see you ; will you try 
 the boulaugero ? " 
 
VIVIAN OBEY. ].75 
 
 " With pleasure ! — -A-a-h ! what a box ! a Louis-Quatorze, I 
 think?" 
 
 " Oh, no ! by no means so old." 
 
 " Pardon me, my dear De Konigstein ; — I think a Louis- 
 Quatorze." 
 
 " I bought it in Sicily." 
 
 " A-a-li ! " slowly exclaimed the little man, shaking liis head. 
 
 " Well, good afternoon," said the Baron, passing on. 
 
 " Aly dear De Konigsteiu — one pinch ; you have often said you 
 have a particular regard for me." 
 
 " My dear Marquis ! " 
 
 " A-a-h ! I thought so — you have often said you would serve 
 me, if possible." 
 
 " My dear Marquis, be brief." 
 
 " A-a-h ! I will — there's a cursed crusty old Prussian officer 
 here — one Colonel de Trurapetson." 
 
 " Well, what can I do ? you are surely not going to fight him ! " 
 
 " A-a-h! no, no, — I wish you to speak to him." 
 
 "Well, what?" 
 
 « He takes snuff." 
 
 "What is that to me?" 
 
 " He has got a box." 
 
 "Well!" 
 
 " It is a Louis-Quatorze — could not you get it for me ?" 
 
 " Good morning to you," said the Baron, pulling on Vivian. 
 
 " You have had the pleasure. Grey, of meeting this afternoon 
 two men, who have each only one idea. Colonel von Trumpetson, 
 and the Marquess de la Tabatiere, are equally tiresome. But are 
 they more tiresome than any other man who always speaks on the 
 same subject ? We are more irritable, but not more wearied, with 
 a man who is always thinking of the pattern of a button-hole, or 
 the shape of a snufi'-box, than with one who is always talking about 
 pictures, or chemistry, or politics. The true bore is that man who 
 thinks the world is only interested in one subject, because he him- 
 self can only comprehend one. " 
 
 Here Lady Madeleine passed again ; and this time the Baron's 
 eyes were fixed on the ground. 
 
 A buzz and a bustle at the other end of the gardens, to which 
 the Baron and Vivian were advancing, announced the entry of the 
 Grand-Duke. His Imperial Highness was a tall man, with a quick, 
 piercing eye, which was prevented from giving to his countenance 
 the expression of intellect which it otherwise would have done, by 
 the dull and almost brutal effect of his flat, Calmuck nose. He 
 was dressed in a plain, green uniform, adorned by a single star ; 
 but his tightened waist, his stiff stock, and the elaborate attention 
 
176 VrVIAN GREY. 
 
 which had evidently been bestowed upon his mustachio, denoted 
 the military fop. The Grand-Duke was accompanied by three or 
 four stiff and stately-looking personages, in whom the severity of 
 the martinet seemed sunk in the servility of the aide-de-camp. 
 
 The Baron bowed very low to the Prince, as he drew near, and 
 his Highness, taking off his cocked-hat with an appearance of cor- 
 dial condescension, made a full stop. The silent gentlemen in the 
 rear, who had not anticipated this suspense in their promenade, 
 almost foundered on the heels of tlieir royal master ; and frightened 
 at the imminency of the profanation, forgot their stiff pomp in a 
 precipitate retreat of half a yard. 
 
 " Baron," said his Highness, " why have I not seen you at the 
 New House ?" 
 
 " I have but this moment arrived, may it please your Imperial 
 Highness." 
 
 " Your companion," continued the Grand-Duke, pointing very 
 graciously to Vivian. 
 
 "My intimate friend, my fellow-traveUer, and an Englishman. 
 May I have the honour of presenting Mr. Grey to your Imperial 
 Highness?" 
 
 " Any friends of the Baron von Konigstein I shall always feel 
 great pleasure in having presented to me. Sir, I feel great 
 pleasure in having you presented to me. Sir, you ought to be 
 proud of the name of Englishman — sir, the English are a noble 
 nation — sir, I have the highest respect for the English nation ! " 
 
 Vivian of course bowed very low ; and of course made a very 
 proper speech on the occasion, which, as all speeches of that kind 
 should be, was very dutiful and quite inaudible. 
 
 " And what news from Berlin, Baron ? let us move on," and the 
 Baron turned with the Grand-Duke. The silent gentlemen, 
 settling their mustachios, followed in the rear. For about half an 
 hour, anecdote after anecdote, scene after scene, caricature after 
 caricature, were poured out with prodigal expenditure for the 
 amusement of the Prince, who did nothing during the exhibition 
 but smile, stroke his whiskers, and at the end of the best stories 
 fence with his forefinger at the Baron's side — with a gentle laugh, 
 and a mock shake of the head — and a " Eh ! Von Konigstein, 
 you're too bad ! " Here Lady Madeleine Trevor passed again, and 
 the Grand-Duke's hat nearly touched the ground. He received a 
 most gracious bow. 
 
 " Finish tlie story about Salvinski, Baron, and then I will pre- 
 sent you for a reward to the most lovely creature in existence — a 
 countrywoman of your friend — Lady Madeleine Trevor." 
 
 " I have the honour of a slight acquaintance with her," said the 
 Baron; "I had the pleasure of knowing her in England." 
 
VmAN GREY. 177 
 
 " Indeed ! Fortunate mortal ! I see she has stopped — talking 
 to some stranger. Let us turn and join her." 
 
 The Grand-Duke and the two friends accordingly turned, and 
 of course the silent gentlemen in the rear followed with due 
 precision. 
 
 " Lady Madeleine ! " said the Grand-Duke, " I flattered myself 
 for a moment that I might have had the honour of presenting 
 to you a gentleman for whom I have a great esteem ; but he has 
 proved to me that he is more fortunate than myself, since he had 
 the honour before me, of an acc[uaintance with Lady Madeleine 
 Trevor." 
 
 " I have not forgotten Baron von Konigstein," said her Lady- 
 ship, with a serious air ; " may I ask his Highness how he pros- 
 pered in his negotiation witli the Austrian troop ? " 
 
 " Perfectly successful ! Inspired by your Ladysliip's approbation, 
 my steward has really done wonders. He almost deserves a di- 
 plomatic appointment for the talent which he has shown ; but 
 what should I do without Cracowsky ? Lady Madeleine, can you 
 conceive what I should do without Cracowsky?" 
 
 " Not in the least." 
 
 " Cracowsky is everything to me. It is impossible to say what 
 Cracowsky is to me. I owe everything to Cracowsky. To Cra- 
 cowsky I owe being here." The Grand-Duke bowed very low, 
 for this eulogium on his steward also conveyed a compliment to her 
 Ladyship. The Grand-Duke was certainly right in believing that 
 he owed his summer excursion to Ems to his steward. • That wily 
 Pole regularly eveiy year put his Imperial master's summer ex- 
 cursion up to auction, and according to the biddings of the proprie- 
 tors of the chief baths, did he take care that his master regulated 
 his visit. The restauratem- of Ems, in collusion with the official 
 agent of the Duke of Nassau, were fortunate this season in having 
 the Grand-Duke knocked down to them. 
 
 "May I flatter myself that Miss Fane feels herself better ?"^ 
 asked the Grand-Duke. 
 
 " She certainly does feel herself better, but my anxiety about 
 her does not decrease. In her illness apparent convalescence is 
 sometimes as alarming as sufl"ering." 
 
 The Grand-Duke continued by the side of Lady Madeleine 
 for about twenty minutes, seizing every opportunity of uttering, 
 in the most courtly tone, inane compliments ; and then trusting 
 that he might soon have her Ladyship's opinion respecting the 
 Austrian troop at the New House ; and that Von Konigstein and 
 his English friend would not delay letting him see them there, his 
 Imperial Highness, followed by his silent suite, left the gardens. 
 
 " I am afraid Lady Madeleine must have almost mistaken me 
 
 12 
 
178 VIVIAN GRET. 
 
 for a taciturn lord chamberlain," and the Baron, occupying imme- 
 diately the Grand-Duke's vacated side. 
 
 " Baron von Konigstein must be veiy changed, if silence be im- 
 puted to him as a fault," said Lady Madeleine. 
 
 " Baron von Konigstein is very much changed since last he had 
 the pleasure of conversing with Lady Madeleine Trevor; more 
 changed than she will perhaps believe; more changed than he 
 can sometimes himself believe ; I hope, that he will not be less 
 acceptable to Lady Madeleine Trevor, because he is no longer 
 rash, passionate, and unthinking; because he has learnt to live 
 more for others and less for himself." 
 
 " Baron von Konigstein does indeed appear changed ; since, by 
 his own account, he has become, in a very few years, a being, in 
 whose existence philosophers scarcely believe — a perfect man." 
 
 " My self-conceit has been so often reproved by you, that I will 
 not apologise for a quality which I almost flattered myself I no 
 longer possessed; but you will excuse, I am sure, one, who in 
 zealous haste to prove himself amended, has, I fear, almost 
 shown that he has deceived himself." 
 
 Some strange thoughts occurred to Vivian, while this conversa- 
 tion was taking place. " Is this a woman to resent the neglect of 
 an order for Eau de Cologne ? My dear Von Konigstein, you are 
 a very jDleasant fellow, but this is not the way men apologise for the 
 non-purchase of a pocket-handkerchief!" 
 
 "Have you been long at Ems?" inquired the Baron, with an 
 air of great deference. 
 
 " Nearly a month : we are travelling in consequence of the ill- 
 health of a relation. It was our intention to have gone on to Pisa, 
 but our physician, in consequence of the extreme heat of the 
 summer, is afraid of the fatigue of travelling, and has recom- 
 mended Ems. Tlie air between these mountains is very soft and 
 pure, and I have no reason to regret at present that we have not 
 advanced farther on our journey." 
 
 " The lady who was with your party at dinner is, I fear, your in- 
 valid. She certainly does not look like one. I think," said the 
 Baron, with an effort, " I think that her face is not unknown to me. 
 It is difficult, even after so many j'ears, to mistake Miss " 
 
 " Fane — " said Lady Madeleine, firmly ; for it seemed that the 
 Baron required a little assistance at the end of his sentence. 
 
 " Ems," returned his Excellency, with great rapidity of utter- 
 ance, — " Ems is a charming place — at least to me. I have, within 
 these few years, quite recurred to the feelings of my boyhood ; 
 nothing to me is more disgustingly wearisome than the gay bustle 
 of a city. My present diplomatic appointment at Frankfort en- 
 sures a constant life among the most charming scenes of nature. 
 
I 
 
 A'lVIAN GREY. 179 
 
 Naples, which was offered to me, 1 refused, Eiq-ht years ago, I 
 should have thought an appoiutment at Naples a Paradise on 
 eartli." 
 
 " You must indeed be changed." 
 
 " How beautiful is the vicinity of the Rhine ! I have passed 
 within these three days, for almost the twentieth time in my life, 
 through the Rheingau ; and yet how fresh, and lovely, and novel, 
 seemed all its various beauties ! — My young travelling companion 
 is enthusiastic about this gem of Germany. — He is one of your 
 Ladyship's countrymen. Might I take the liberty of presenting to 
 you — jVIr. Grey! " 
 
 Lady Madeleine, as if it could now no longer be postponed, in- 
 troduced to the two gentlemen her brother, Mr. St. George. This 
 gentleman, who, during the whole previous conversation, had kept 
 his head in a horizontal position, looking neitlier to the right nor 
 to the left, and apparently unconscious that any one was conversing 
 with his sister, because, according to the English custom, he was 
 not introduced — now suddenly turned round, and welcomed his 
 acquaintance with cordiality. 
 
 " Mr. Grey," asked her Ladyship, " are you of Dorsetshire ? " 
 
 " 'My mother is a Dorsetshire woman ; her family name is Vivian, 
 which name I also bear." 
 
 " Then I tliink we are longer acquainted than we have been in- 
 troduced. I met your father at Sir Hargrave Vivian's last Christ- 
 mas. He spoke of you in those terms that make me glad that I 
 liave met liis son. You have been long from England, I think ? " 
 
 " Nearly a year and a half." 
 
 The Baron had resigned his place by Lady Madeleine, and was 
 already in close conversation with Mr. St. George, from whose 
 arm Lady Madeleine's was disengaged. No one acted the part of 
 Asmodeus with greater spirit than his Excellency ; and the secret 
 history of every person whose secret history could be amusing, de- 
 lighted Mr. St. George. 
 
 " There," said tlie Baron, " goes the son of an unknown father ; 
 his mother followed the camp, and her offiftring was early initiated 
 in the mysteries of military petty larceny. As he grew up, he 
 became the most skilful plunderer that ever rifled the dying of 
 both sides. Before he was twenty, he followed the army as a petty 
 chapman, and amassed an excellent fortune by re-acquiring after 
 a battle, the very goods and trinkets which he had sold at an im- 
 mense price before it. Such a wretch could do nothing but prosper, 
 a,nd in due time, the sutler's brat became a Commissary-general. 
 He made millions in a period of general starvation, and cleared at 
 least a hundred thousand dollars, by embezzling the shoe leather 
 during a retreat. He is now a Baron, covered with orders, and; 
 
180 VIVIAN GEET. 
 
 his daughters are married to some of our first nohles. There goes 
 a Polish Count, who is one of the greatest gamblers in Christen- 
 dom. In the same season he lost to a Russian general, at one 
 game of chess, his chief castle, and sixteen thousand acres of 
 woodland ; and recovered himself on another game, on which he 
 won of a Turkish Pashaw one hundred and eighty thousand leopard 
 skins. The Turk, who was a man of strict honour, paid the Count, 
 by embezzling the tribute in kind of the province he governed; 
 and as on quarter-day he could not, of course, make up his ac- 
 counts with the Divan, he joined the Greeks." 
 
 While the Baron was entertaining Mr. St. George, the conver- 
 sation between Lady Madeleine and Vivian proceeded 
 
 " Your father expressed great disappointment to me, at his 
 being prevented paying you a visit. Do you not long to see 
 him ? " 
 
 " More than I can express. Did you think him in good 
 spirits ? " 
 
 " Generally so ; as cheerful as all fathers can be without their 
 only son." 
 
 " Did he complain then of my absence ? " 
 
 « He regretted it." 
 
 " I linger in Germany with the hope of seeing him ; other- 
 wise I should have now been much farther south. Do you find Sir 
 Hargrave as amusing as ever ? " 
 
 " When is he otherwise than the most delightful of old men ? 
 Sir Hargrave is one of my great favourites. I should like to per- 
 suade you to return, and see tliem all. Cannot you fancy Chester 
 Grange very beautiful now ? Albert ! " said her Ladyship, turning 
 to her brother, " what is the number of our apartments ? Mr. 
 Grey, the sun has now disappeared, and I fear the night air among 
 these mountains. We have hardly yet summer nights, though M-e 
 certainly have summer days. We shall be happy to see you at our 
 rooms." So saying, bowing very cordially to Vivian, and coldly to 
 the Baron, Lady Madeleine left the gardens. 
 
 " There goes the most delightful woman in the world," said the 
 Baron; "how fortunate that you know her! for really, as you 
 might have observed, I have no great claims on her indulgent 
 notice. I was certainly very wild in England; but then, young 
 men, you know. Grey! — and I did not leave a card, or call, before 
 I went ; and the English are very stiff and precise about those 
 things; and the Trevors had been very kind to me. I think we 
 had better take a little coffee now ; and then, if you like, we will 
 just stroll into the Redoute." 
 
 In a brilliantly-illuminated saloon, adorned with Corinthian 
 columns, and casts from some of the most famous antique statues. 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 181 
 
 assembled, between nine and ten o'clock in the evening, many of 
 the visitors at Eras. On each side of the room was placed a long 
 narrow table, one of which was covered with green baize, and nn- 
 attended; while the variously-coloured leathern surface of the 
 other was closely surrounded by an interested crowd. Behind this 
 table stood two individuals of diflerent appearance. The first was 
 a short, thick man, whose only business was dealing certain por- 
 tions of playing- cards with quick succession, one after the other; 
 and as the ftite of the table was decided by this process, did his 
 companion, a very tall, thin man, throw various pieces of money upon 
 certain stakes, which were deposited by the bystanders on different 
 parts of the table ; or, which was much oftener the case, with a 
 silver rake with a long ebony handle, sweep into a large iuclosure 
 near him the scattered sums. This inclosure was called the Bank, 
 and the mysterious ceremony in which these persons were assist- 
 ing, was the celebrated game of Rouge-et-Noir. A deep silence 
 was strictly preserved by those who immediately surrounded the 
 table ; no voice was heard, save that of the little, short, stout 
 dealer; when, without an expression of the least interest, he 
 seemed mechanically to announce the fate of the different co- 
 lours. No other sound was heard, except the jingle of the dollars 
 and Napoleons, and the ominous rake of the tall, thin banker. 
 The countenances of those who were hazarding their money were 
 grave and gloomy : their eyes were fixed, their brows contracted, 
 and their lips projected ; and yet there was an evident effort visible, 
 to show that they were both easy and unconcerned. Each player 
 held in his hand a small piece of pasteboard, on which, with a steel 
 pricker, he marked the run of the cards ; in order, from his obser- 
 vations, to regulate his own play: — the Rouge-et-Noir player 
 imagines that Chance is not capricious. Those who were not in- 
 terested in the game, promenaded in two lines within the tables ; 
 or, seated in recesses between the pillars, formed small parties for 
 conversation. 
 
 " I suppose we must throw away a dollar or two," said the 
 Baron, as he walked up to the table. 
 
 " My dear De Konigstein — one pinch ! " 
 
 " Ah ! Marquess, what fortune to-night ? " 
 
 " Bad ! I have lost my Napoleon : I never risk further. There 
 is that cursed crusty old De Trumpetson, persisting, as usual, in 
 his run of bad luck ; because he never will give in. Trust me, 
 my dear De Konigstein, it will end in his ruin ; and then, if there 
 be a sale of his effects, I shall, perhaps, get his snuff-box — 
 a-a-h!" 
 
 " Come, shall I throw down a couple of Napoleons on joint ac- 
 count. I do not care much for play myself; but I suppose, at 
 
182 VIVIAN GREY, 
 
 Ems, we must make up our minds to lose a few Louis. Here! 
 now, for the red — joint account, mind ! " 
 
 " Done." 
 
 " There's the Grand-Duke ! Let us go and make our bow ; we 
 need not stick at the table as if our whole soul were staked with 
 our crown-pieces." So saying, the gentleman walked up to the 
 top of the room. 
 
 " Why, Grey ! — Surely no — it cannot bo — and yet it is. De 
 Boeffleurs, how d'ye do?" said the Baron, with a face beaming 
 with joy, and a hearty shake of the hand. " My dear fellow, 
 how did you manage to get off so soon ? I thought you were uot 
 to be here for a fortnight : we only arrived ourselves to-day." 
 
 " Yes — but I have made an arrangement which I did not anti- 
 cipate; and so I posted after you at once. Whom do you think I 
 have brought with me? " 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 « Salvinski." 
 
 "All! And the Count?" 
 
 " Follows immediately. I expect him to-morrow or next day. 
 Salvinski is talking to the Grand-Duke ; and see, he beckons to 
 me. I suppose I am going to be presented." 
 
 The Chevalier moved forward, followed by the Baron and 
 Vivian. 
 
 " Any friend of Prince Salvinski I shall always have great 
 pleasure in having presented to me. Chevalier, I feel great plea- 
 sure in having you presented to me. Chevalier, you ought to be 
 proud of the name of Frenchman. Chevalier, the French are a 
 great nation. Chevalier, I have the highest respect for the Fi'encl 
 nation." 
 
 " The most subtile diplomatist," thought Vivian, as he recalled 
 to mind his own introduction, " would be puzzled to decide to which 
 intei'est his Imperial Highness leans." 
 
 The Grand-Duke now entered into conversation with the Prince, 
 and most of the circle who surrounded him. As his Luperial 
 Highness was addressing Vivian, the Baron let slip our hero's 
 arm, and taking that of the Chevalier de Bceffleurs, began walk- 
 ing up and down the room with him, and was soon engaged in 
 animated conversation. lu a few minutes, the Grand-Duke, bowing 
 to his circle, made a move, and regained the side of a Saxon lady, 
 from whose interesting company he had been disturbed by the 
 arrival of Prince Salvinski — an individual of whose long stories 
 and dull romances the Grand-Duke had, from experience, a par- 
 ticular dread : but his Highness was always very courteous to the 
 Poles. 
 
 " Grey, I have dispatched De Boeffleurs to the house, to in- 
 
VIVIAN GEEY. 183 
 
 struct his servant and Ernstorff to do the impossible, in order that 
 our rooms may be all together. You will be delighted with Dc 
 Boeffleurs when you know him, and I expect you to be great 
 friends. Bj'-the-bye, his unexpected arrival has quite made us 
 forg-et our venture at Rouge-et-Noir. Of course we are too late 
 now for anything ; even if we bad been fortunate, our stake, re- 
 maining on the table, is, of course, lost : we may as well, however, 
 walk up." So saying, the Baron reached the table. 
 
 " That is your Excellency's stake ! — that is your Excellency's 
 stake!" exclaimed many voices as he came up. 
 
 "What is the matter, my friends?" asked the Baron very 
 calmly, 
 
 " There has been a run on the red ! there has been a run on the 
 red ! and your Excellency's stake has doubled each time. It has 
 been 4— 8— 16— 32— G4— 128— 256 — and now it is 512 !" quickly 
 rattled a little thin man in spectacles, pointing at the same time 
 to his unparalleled line of punctures. This was one of those offi- 
 cious, noisy little men, who are always ready to give you unasked 
 information ; and who are never so happy as when they are watch- 
 ing over the interest of some stranger, who never thanks them 
 for their unnecessary solicitude. 
 
 Vivian, in spite of his philosophy, felt the excitement of the 
 moment. He looked at the Baron, whose countenance, however, 
 was perfectly unmoved. 
 
 "It seems," said he, very coolly, "we are in luck." 
 
 " The stake, then, is not all your own?" very eagerly asked the 
 little man in spectacles. 
 
 "' Xo, part of it is yours, sir," answered the Baron, very drily. 
 
 '•' I am going to deal," said the short, thick man behind. " Is 
 the board cleared ? " 
 
 "Your Excellency, then, allows the stake to remain?" inquired 
 the tall thin banker, with aflected nonchalance. 
 
 "Oh! certainly," said the Baron, with real nonchalance. 
 
 " Three — eight — fourteen — twenty-four — thirty-four. Rouge 
 34—." 
 
 All crowded nearer ; the table was surrounded five or six deep, 
 for the wonderful run of luck had got wind, and nearly the whole 
 room were round the table. Indeed, the Grand-Duke and Saxon 
 lady, and of course the silent suite, were left alone at the upper 
 part of the room. The tall banker did not conceal his agitation. 
 Even the short, stout dealer ceased to be a machine. All looked 
 anxious except the Baron. Vivian looked at the table ; his Ex- 
 cellency watched, with a keen eye, the little dealer. No one 
 even breathed as the cards descended—" Ten — twenty — (Here 
 the countenance of the banker brightened) — twenty-two — twenty- 
 
I8i VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 five — twenty-eig-Iit — thirty-oue — Noir 31. — The bcank's broke: 
 no more play to-night. The Roulette table opens immediately." 
 
 In spite of the f;-reat interest which had been excited, nearly the 
 whole crowd, without waiting to congratulate the Baron, rushed 
 to the opposite side of the room, in order to secure places at the 
 Roulette table. 
 
 " Put these five hundred and twelve Napoleons into a bag," 
 said the Baron ; " Grey, this is your share. With regard to the 
 other half, Mr. Hermann, what bills have you got ? " 
 
 "Two on Gogel of Frankfort ; for two hundred and fifty each, 
 and these twelve Napoleons will make it right," said the tall 
 banker, as he opened a large black pocket-book, from which he 
 took out two small bits of paper. The Baron examined them, and 
 after having seen them endorsed, put them into his pocket, not 
 forgetting the twelve Napoleons ; and then taking Vivian's arm, 
 and regretting extremely that he should have the trouble of car- 
 rying such a weight, he wished Mr. Hermann a very good night, 
 and success at his Roulette, and walked with his companion quietly 
 home. Thus passed a day at Ems ! 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 On the following morning, Vivian met with his friend Essper 
 George, behind a small stall in the Bazaar. 
 
 " Well, my Lord, what do you wish ? Here are Eau de Cologne, 
 violet soap, and watch-ribbons ; a smelling bottle of Ems crystal; a 
 snuff-box of fig-tree wood. Name your price : the least trifle that 
 can be given by a man who breaks a bank, must be more than 
 my whole stock in trade is worth." 
 
 " I have not paid you yet, Essper, for my glass chain. There is 
 your share of my winnings: the fame of which, it seems, has 
 reached even you 1 " added Vivian, with no pleased air. 
 
 " I thank you, sir, for the Nap ; but I hope I have not off'ended 
 by alluding to a certain event, which shall be past over in silence," 
 continued Essper George, with a look of mock solemnity. " I 
 really think yon have but a faint appetite for good fortune. They 
 deserve her most who value her least." 
 
 " Have you any patrons at Ems, Essper, that have induced you 
 to fix on this place in particular for your speculations ? Hero, I 
 should think, you liave many active rivals," said Vivian, looking 
 round the various stalls. 
 
 " I have a patron here, who has never deceived, and who will 
 never desert me, — I want no other; — and that's myself. Now 
 
VIVIAN GrvEY. 185 
 
 here comes a party: could you just tell me the name of that tali 
 lady now?" 
 " If I tell you it is Lady Madeleine Trevor, what will it profit 
 
 you?" 
 
 Before Vivian could well finish his sentence, Essper had drawn 
 out a long horn from beneath his small counter, and souuded a 
 blast which echoed through the arched passages. The attention 
 of every one was excited, and no part of the following speech was 
 lost. 
 
 '• The celebrated Essper George, fresh from Fairyland, dealer 
 in pomatum and all sorts of perfumery, watches, crosses. Ems 
 crystal, coloured prints, Dutch toys, Dresden chiua, Venetian 
 chains, Neapolitan coral, French crackers, chamois bracelets, tame 
 poodles, and Cherokee corkscrews, mender of mandolins, and all 
 other musical instruments, to Lady Madeleine Trevor, has just ar- 
 rived at Ems, where he only intends to stay two or three days, 
 and a few more weeks besides. Now, gracious lady, what do you 
 wish ? " 
 
 " And who," said Lady Madeleine, smiling, " is this?" 
 
 '•' The celebrated Essper George, just " again commenced 
 
 the conjuror ; but Vivian prevented the repetition. 
 
 " He is an odd knave, Lady Madeleine, that I have met with 
 before, at other places. I believe I may add an honest one. 
 What say you, Essper ? " 
 
 '■' More honest than moonlight, gracious lady, for that deceives 
 every one ; and less honest than self-praise, for that deceives no 
 one." 
 
 " My friend, you have a ready wit." 
 
 " My wit is like a bustling servant, gracious lady ; always ready 
 when not wanted; and never present at a pinch." 
 
 " Come, I must have a pan* of your chamois bracelets. How 
 sell you them ? " 
 
 " I sell nothing ; all here is gratis to beauty, virtue, and no- 
 biUty: and these are my only customers." 
 
 " Thanks will not supply a stock-in-trade though, Essper," said 
 Vivian. 
 
 '"' Very true ! but my customers are apt to leave some shght 
 testimonies behind them of the obligations which they are under 
 to me ; and these, at the same time, are the prop of my estate 
 and the proof of their discretion. But who comes here?" said 
 Essper, drawing out his horn. The sight of this instrument re- 
 minded Lady Madeleine how greatly the effect of music is height- 
 ened by distance, and she made a speedy retreat, yielding her 
 place to a family procession of a striking character. 
 
 Three daughters abreast, flanked by two elder sons, formed the 
 
]86 VIVIAN GKEY. 
 
 first file. The father, a portly, prosperous-looking- man, followed, 
 with his lady ou his arm. Then came two nursery maids, with 
 three children, between the tender ages of five and six. The second 
 division of the grand army, consisting of three younger sons, im- 
 mediately "followed. This was commanded by a tutor. A gover- 
 ness and two young daughters then advanced ; and then came the 
 extreme rear — the suttlers of the camp — in the persous of two 
 footmen in rich liveries, who each bore a basket on his arm, filled 
 with vai'ious fancy articles, which had been all purchased during 
 the promenade of this nation through only part of the bazaar. 
 
 The trumpet of Essper George produced a due efiect upon the 
 great party. The commander-in-chief stopped at his little stall, 
 and, as if this were the signal for general attack and plunder, the 
 files were immediately broken up. Each individual dashed at his 
 prey, and the only ones who struggled to maintain a semblance of 
 discipline, were the nursery maids, the tutor, and the governess, 
 who experienced the greatest difficulty in suppressing the early 
 taste which the detachment of light infantry indicated for booty. 
 But Essper George was in his element : he joked, he assisted, he 
 exliibited, he explained ; ttipped the cheeks of the children, and 
 complimented the elder ones ; and finally, having parted at a pro- 
 digious profit with nearly his whole stock, paid himself out of a 
 large and heavy purse, which the portly father, in his utter inability 
 to comprehend the complicated accounts and the debased currency, 
 with great frankness deposited in the hands of the master of the 
 stall, desiring him to settle his own claims. 
 
 " I hope I may be allowed to ask after Miss Fane," said Vivian. 
 
 " She continues better ; we are now about to join her in the 
 Limewalk ; if you will join our morning stroll, it will give us much 
 pleasure." 
 
 Nothing in the world could give Vivian greater pleasure ; he felt 
 himself impelled to the side of Lady Madeleine ; and only re- 
 gretted his acquaintance with the Baron, because he felt conscious 
 that there was some secret cause, which prevented that intimacy 
 from existing between his Excellency and the Trevor party, which 
 his talents and his position would otherwise have easily produced. 
 
 "By-the-bye," said Lady Madeleine, " I do not know whether I 
 may be allowed to congratulate you upon your brilliant success at 
 the Redoute last night. It is fortunate, that all have not to regret 
 your arrival at Ems so much as poor Mr. Hermann." 
 
 " The run was extraordinary. I am only sorry that the Goddess 
 should, have showered her favours on one who neither deserves nor 
 desires them ; for I have no wish to be rich ; and as I never lost 
 by her caprices, it is hardly fair that I should gain by them." 
 
 "You do not play then, much?" 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 187 
 
 " I never played in my life, till last night. Gambling has never 
 been one of my follies : although my catalogue of errors is fuller, 
 perhaps, than most men's." 
 
 " I think Baron von Konigstein was your partner in the exploit." 
 
 "He was; and apparently as little pleased at the issue as 
 myself." 
 
 "Indeed! — Have you known the Baron long?" 
 
 " We are only friends of a week. I have been living, ever since 
 I was in Germany, a very retired life. A circumstance of a most 
 painful rniture drove me from England— a circumstance of which 
 I can hardly flatter myself, and can hardly wish, that you should be 
 ignorant." 
 
 " I learnt the sad history from one who, while he spoke the 
 truth, spoke of the living sufferer in terms of the fondest affection." 
 
 " A father ! " said Vivian, agitated, " a father can hardly be ex- 
 pected to be impartial." 
 
 " Such a father as yours may. I only wish that he was with us 
 now, to assist me in bringing about what he must greatly desire — 
 your return to England." 
 
 "It cannot be — I look back to the last year which I spent in that 
 country with feelings of such disgust, I look forward to a return to 
 that country with feelings of such repugnance — that — but I feel 
 I am trespassing beyond all bounds, in touching on these sub- 
 jects." 
 
 " I promised your father, that in case we met I would seek your 
 society. I have suffered too much myself not to understand how 
 dangei'ous and how deceitful is the excess of grief. You have 
 allowed yourself to be overcome by that which Providence intended 
 as a lesson of instruction, not as a sentence of despair. In your soli- 
 tude you have increased the shadow of those fantasies of a heated 
 brain, which converse with the pure sunshine of the world n^ould 
 have enabled you to dispel." 
 
 " The pure sunshine of the world, Lady Madeleine ! — would that 
 it had ever lighted me ! My youth flourished in the unwholesome 
 sultriness of a blighted atmosphere, which I mistook for the re- 
 splendent brilliancy of a summer day. How deceived I was, you 
 may judge, not certainly from finding me here ; but I am here, be- 
 cause I have ceased to suffer, only in having ceased to hope." 
 
 " You have ceased to hope, because hope and consolation are not 
 the companions of solitude, which are of a dai'ker nature. Hope 
 and consolation spring from the social affections. Converse with 
 the world will do more for you than all the arguments of philoso- 
 phers. I hope yet to find you a believer in the existence of that 
 good which we all worship and all pursue. Happiness ccmes when 
 we least expect it, and to those who strive least to obtain it ; as you 
 
188 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 were fortunate yesterday at the Redoute, when you played without 
 an idea of winning." 
 
 They were in the Limewalk : gay sounds greeted them, and 
 Miss Fane came forward from a light-hearted hand to welcome her 
 cousin. She had to propose a walk to the New Spring, which 
 she was prepared for Lady Madeleine to resist on the ground of 
 her cousin's health. But Miss Fane combated all the objections 
 with airy merriment, and with a bright resource that never flagged. 
 As she bent her head slightly to Vivian, ere she hastened back to 
 her companions to announce the success of her mission, it seemed 
 to him that he had never beheld so animated and beaming a coun- 
 tenance, or glanced upon a form of such ineffable and sparkling 
 grace. 
 
 " You would scarcely imagine, Mr. Grey, that we are travelling 
 for my cousin's health, nor do her physicians, indeed, give us any 
 cause for serious uneasiness, — yet I cannot help feeling at times 
 great anxiety. Her flushed cheek and the alarming languor 
 which succeeds any excitement, make me fear her complaint may 
 be more deeply seated than they are willing to acknowledge." 
 
 " They were saying the other day that the extraordinary heat of 
 this season must end in an earthquake or some great convulsion of 
 nature. That would bring languor." 
 
 " We are willing to adopt any reasoning that gives us hope, but 
 her mother died of consumption." 
 
 CHAPTER Vni. 
 
 When the walking party returned home, they found a crowd 
 of idle servants assembled opposite the house, round a group of 
 equipages, consisting of two enormous crimson carriages, a britzska, 
 and a large caravan, on all which vehicles the same coat of arms 
 was ostentatiously blazoned. 
 
 " Some new guests ! " said Miss Fane. 
 
 " It must be the singular party that we watched this morning in 
 the bazaar," said Lady Madeleine. " Violet ! I have such a curious 
 character to introduce you to, a particular friend of Mr, Grey, who 
 wishes very much to have the honour of your acquaintance, Mb. 
 EsspER George." 
 
 " These carriages, then, belong to him ? " 
 
 "Not exactly," said Vivian. 
 
 In an hour's time, the party again met at dinner in the saloon. 
 By the joint exertions of Ernstorfl', and Mr. St. George's servants, 
 the Baron, Vivian, and the Chevalier de Bceflieurs, were now 
 seated next to the party of Lady Madeleine. 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 189 
 
 " My horses fortunately arrived from Frankfort this morning," 
 said the Baron. " Mr. St. George and myself have been taking a 
 ride very far up the valley. Has your Ladyship yet been to the 
 Castle of Nassau?" 
 
 " We have not. The expedition has been one of those plans, 
 often arranged, and never executed." 
 
 " You should go. The ruin is one of the finest in Germany. 
 An expedition to Nassau Castle would be a capital foundation for 
 a pic-nic. Conceive a beautiful valley, discovered by a knight, in 
 the middle ages, following the track of a stag — how romantic ! 
 The very incident vouches for its sweet seclusion. Cannot you 
 imagine the wooded mountains, the old grey ruin, the sound of the 
 unseen river? What more should we want, except agreeable 
 company, fine music, and the best provisions, to fancy ourselves in 
 Paradise?" 
 
 " I wish the plan were practicable," said Mr. St. George. 
 
 " I take the whole arrangement upon myself; there is not a 
 difficulty. The ladies shall go on donkeys, or we might make a 
 water excursion of it part of the way, and the donkeys can meet 
 us at the pass near Stein, and then the gentlemen may walk ; and 
 if you fear the water at night, why then the carriages may come 
 round : and if your o^vn be too heavy for mountain roads, my 
 britzska is always at your command. You see there is not a 
 difficulty." 
 
 " Not a difficulty," said Mr. St. George : " Madeleine, we only 
 wait your consent." 
 
 " I think we had better put off the execution of our plan till 
 June is a little more advanced. We must have a fine summer 
 night for Violet." 
 
 " Well, then, I hold the whole party present engaged to follow 
 my standard whenever I have permission from authority to 
 unfold it," said the Baron, bowing to Lady Madeleine : " and 
 lest, on cool reflection, I shall not possess influence enough to 
 procure the appointment, I shall, like a skilful orator, take advan- 
 tage of your feelings, which gratitude for this excellent plan must 
 have already enlisted in my favour, and propose myself as Master 
 of the Ceremonies." The Baron's eye caught Lady Madeleine's 
 as he uttered this, and something like a smile, rather of pity than 
 derision, lighted up her face. 
 
 Here Vivian turned round to give some directions to an atten- 
 dant, and to his annoyance found Essper George standing behind 
 his chair. 
 
 " Is there anything you want, sir ?" 
 
 " Who ordered you here ? " 
 
 " My duty." 
 
100 VIVIAN- GEET. 
 
 " In what capacity do you attend ? " 
 
 " As your servant, sir." 
 
 "I insist upon your leavin;^ the room directly." 
 
 " Ah ! ray friend, Essper Georg-e," said Lady Madeleine, " are 
 you there ? What is the matter ? " 
 
 " This, then, is Essper George ! " said Violet Fane. " What 
 kind of being can he possibly be ? What indeed is the matter ?" 
 
 " I am merely discharging a servant at a moment's warning, 
 Miss Fane ; and if you wish to engage his constant attendance 
 upon yourself, I have no objection to give him a character for the 
 occasion." 
 
 "What do you want, Essper?" said Miss Fane. 
 
 " Merely to see whether your walk this morning had done your 
 appetites any good," answered Essper, looking disconsolate ; " and 
 so I thought I might make myself useful at the same time ; and 
 though I do not bring on the soup in a cocked hat, and carve the 
 venison with a couteau-de-chasse," continued he, bowing very low 
 to Ernstorff, who, standing stiff behind his master's chair, seemed 
 utterly unaware that any other person in the room could expe- 
 rience a necessity ; " still I can change a plate, or hand the wine, 
 without cracking the first, or drinking the second." 
 
 "And very good qualities too!" said Miss Fane. "Come, 
 Essper, you shall put your accomplishments into practice imme- 
 diately : change my plate." 
 
 This Essper did with dexterity and quiet, displaying at the same 
 time a small white hand, on the back of which was marked a comet 
 and three daggers. As he had the discretion not to open his 
 mouth, and performed all his duties with skill, his intrusion in a 
 few minutes was not only pardoned but forgotten. 
 
 " There has been a great addition to the visitors to-day, I see," 
 said Mr. St. George. " Who are the new comers ?" 
 
 " I will tell you all about them," said the Baron. " This family 
 is one of those whose existence astounds the Continent much more 
 than any of your mighty dukes and earls, whose fortunes, though- 
 colossal, can be conceived ; and whose rank is understood. Mr. 
 Fitzloom is a veiy different personage; for, thirty years ago he 
 was a journeyman cotton-spinner ; some miraculous invention in 
 machinery entitled him to a patent, which has made him one of 
 the great proprietors of England. lie has lately been returned a 
 member for a manufacturing town ; and he intends to get over 
 the first two years of his parliamentary career, by successively 
 monopolising the accommodation of all the principal cities of 
 France, Germany, Switzerland, and Italy; and by raising the price 
 of provisions and post-horses through a track of five thousand 
 miles. My information is authentic, for I liad a casual acquaint- 
 
VIVIAN GEET. 101 
 
 ance ■with him in England. There was some talk of a contract 
 for supplying our army from England, and I saw Fitzlooni often 
 on the subject ; I have spoken to him to-day. This is by no means 
 the first of the species that we have had in Germany. I can 
 assure you that the plain traveller feels seriously the inconvenience 
 of foUomng such a caravan. Their money flo^v3 with such unwise 
 prodigality, that real liberality ceases to be valued ; and many of 
 your nobility have complained to me, that, in their travels, they 
 are now often expostulated with, on account of their parsimony, 
 and taunted with the mistaken extravagance of a stocking-maker 
 or a porter-brewer." 
 
 " What pleasure can such people find in travelling ?" wondered 
 Mr. St. George. 
 
 " As much pleasure, and more profit, than half the young men 
 of the present day," replied a middle-aged English gentleman, 
 who was a kinsman of the St. Georges, and called them cousins. 
 " In my time, travelling was undertaken on a very different system 
 to what it is now. The English youth then travelled to frequent, 
 what Lord Bacon says are ' especially to be seen and observed, the 
 Courts of Princes.' You all travel now, it appears, to look at 
 mountains, and catch cold in spouting trash on lakes by moonlight." 
 
 " But, my dear sir ! " said the Baron, " although I gram you, that 
 the principal advantages of travel must be the opportunity which 
 it affords us of becoming acquainted with human nature, know- 
 ledge, of course, chiefly gained where human beings most congre- 
 gate, great cities, and as you say, the Courts of Princes ; still, one of 
 its gi'eat benefits is, that it enlarges a man's experience, not only of 
 his fellow-creatures in particular, but of nature in general. Many 
 men pass through life without seeing a sunrise : a traveller cannot. 
 If human experience be gained by seeing men in their undress, 
 not only when they are conscious of the presence of others, natural 
 experience is only to be acquired by studying nature at all periods, 
 not merely when man is busy, and the beasts asleep." 
 
 " But what is the use of this deep experience of nature ? !Men 
 are born to converse with men, not with stocks and stones. He 
 who has studied Le Sage mil be more happy and more successful 
 in this world, than the man who muses over Rousseau." 
 
 " I agree with you. I have no wi-sh to make man an anchorite. 
 But as to the benefit of a thorougli experience of nature, it 
 appears to me to be evident. It increases our stock of ideas." 
 
 " So does everything." 
 
 " But it does more than this. It calls into being new emotions, 
 it gives rise to new and beautiful associations ; it creates that 
 salutary state of mental excitement which renders our ideas more 
 lucid, and our conclusions more sound. Can we too much esteem 
 
192 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 a study wliicli at the same time stimulates imagination and 
 corrects the judgment?" 
 
 " Do not you think that a communion with nature is calculated 
 to elevate the soul," said Lady Madeleine, " to ':" 
 
 "So is reading your Bible. A man's soul should always be 
 elevated. If not, he might look at mountains for ever, but I 
 should not trust him a jot more." 
 
 " But, sir," continued the Baron, with unusual warmth, " I am 
 clear that there are cases in which the influence of nature has 
 worked what you profess to treat as an impossibility or a miracle. 
 I am myself acquainted with an instance of a peculiar charac- 
 ter, A few years ago, a gentleman of high rank found him- 
 self exposed to the unhappy suspicion of being connected with 
 some dishonourable transactions which took place in the highest 
 circles of England. Unable to find any specific charge which he 
 could meet, he added one to the numerous catalogue of those 
 unfortunate beings who have sunk in society, the victims of a 
 surmise. He quitted England ; and disgusted with the world, 
 became the profligate which he had been falsely believed to be. 
 At the house of Cardinal * * * * *^ at Naples, celebrated for its 
 revels, this gentleman became a constant guest He entered with 
 a mad eagerness into every species of dissipation, although none 
 gave him pleasure ; and his fortune, his health, and the powers of 
 his mind, were all fast vanishing. One night of frantic dissipa- 
 tion, a mock election of Master of the Sports was proposed, and 
 the hero of my tale had the splendid gratification of being chosen 
 by unanimous consent to this new office. About two o'clock of 
 the same night, he left the palace of the Cardinal, with an inten- 
 tion of returning. His way on his return led by the Chiaja. It 
 was one of those nights which we witness only in the south. The 
 blue and brilliant sea was sleeping beneath a cloudless sky ; and 
 the moon not only shed her light over the orange and lemon 
 trees, which, springing from their green banks of myrtle, hung' 
 over the water, but added fresh lustre to the white domes and 
 glittering towers of the city, and flooded Vesuvius and the dis- 
 tant coast with light, as far even as Capua. The individual 
 of whom I am speaking had passed this spot on many nights 
 when the moon was not less bright, the waves not less silent, 
 and the orange trees not less sweet; but to-night, something 
 irresistible impelled him to stop. What a contrast to the arti- 
 ficial light, and heat and splendour of the palace to which he 
 was returning! He mused in silence. Would it not be wiser 
 to forget the world's injustice, in gazing on a moonlit ocean, 
 than in discovering in the illumined halls of Naples, the baseness 
 of tile crowd wliich forms the world's power ? To enjoy the 
 
VIVIAN GRET. 193 
 
 refreshing luxury of a fanning breeze which now arose, he turned 
 and gazed on the other side of the bay. Upon his right stretched 
 out the promontory of Pausilippo ; there were the shores of Baiae. 
 But it was not only the loveliness of the land which now overcame 
 his spirit ; he thought of those whose fame had made us forget 
 even the beauty of these shores, in associations of a higher charac- 
 ter, and a more exalted nature. He remembered the time when 
 it was his only wish to be numbered among them. How had his 
 early hopes been fulfilled ! What just account had he rendered to 
 himself and to his country — that country that had expected so 
 much — that self that had aspired even to more ! 
 
 " Day broke over the city, and found him still pacing the Chiaja. 
 He did not return to the Cardinal's palace ; and in two days he 
 had left Naples. I can myself, from personal experience, aver 
 that this individual is now an useful and honourable member of 
 society. The world speaks of him in more flattering terms." 
 
 The Baron spoke with energy and animation. Miss Fane, who 
 had been very silent, and who certainly had not encouraged by 
 any apparent interest the previous conversation of the Baron, 
 listened to this anecdote with eager attention; but the eflect it 
 produced upon Lady Madeleine Trevor was remarkable. 
 
 Soon after this the party broke up. The promenade followed — 
 the Grand-Duke — his compliments — and courtiers — then came the 
 Redoute. INIr. Hermann bowed low as the gentlemen walked up 
 to the table. The Baron whispered Vivian that it was "ex- 
 pected" that they should play, and give the tables a chance of 
 winning back their money. Vivian staked with the carelessness 
 of one who wishes to lose. As is often the case under sucli cir- 
 cumstances, he again left the Redoute a considerable winner. He 
 parted with the Baron at his Excellency's door, and proceeded to 
 the next, which was his own. Here he stumbled over something 
 at the doorway, which appeared like a lai"ge bundle. He bent 
 down with his light to examine it, aud found Essper George, 
 lying on his back, with his eyes lialf open. It was some moments 
 before Vivian perceived he was asleep ; stepping gently over him, 
 he entered his apartment. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 When Vivian rose in the morning, a gentle tap at his door 
 announced the presence of an early visitor, who, being desired to 
 enter, appeared in the person of Essper George. 
 
 "Do you want anything, sir?" asked Essper, with a very sub- 
 missive air. 
 
 13 
 
194 VIVEAN GREY. 
 
 Vivian stared at him for a moment, and then ordered him to 
 come in. 
 
 " I had forgotten, Essper, until this moment, that on returning 
 to my room last night, I found you sleeping at my door. This 
 also reminds me of your conduct in the saloon yesterday ; and as I 
 wish to prevent the repetition of such improprieties, I shall take 
 this opportunity of informing you once for aU, that if you do not 
 in future conduct yourself with more discretion, I must apply to 
 the Maitre d'Hotel. No, sir! what do you want?" 
 
 Essper was silent, and stood with his hands crossed on his 
 hreast, and his eyes fixed on the ground. 
 
 " If you do not want anything, quit the room immediately." 
 
 Here the singular heing began to weep. 
 
 " Poor fellow ! " thought Vivian, " I fear with aU thy wit and 
 pleasantry thou art, after all, but one of those capriccios, which 
 Nature sometimes indulges in ; merely to show how superior is 
 her accustomed order to eccentricities, even accompanied with 
 rare powers." 
 
 "What is your wish, Essper?" continued Vivian, in a kinder 
 tone. " If there be any service that I can do you, you will not 
 find me backward. Are you in trouble ? you surely are not in 
 want?" 
 
 "No!" sobbed Essper; "I wish to be your servant :" here he 
 hid his face in his hands. 
 
 " My servant ! why surely it is not very wise to seek depend- 
 ence upon any man. I am afraid that you have been keeping 
 company too much with the lacqueys, that are always loitering 
 about these bathing-places. Ernstorflf's green livery and sword, 
 have they not turned your brain, Essper?" 
 
 " No, no, no ! I am tired of living alone." 
 
 "But remember, to be a servant, you must be a person of 
 regular habits and certain reputation. I have myself a very good 
 opinion of you, but I have myself seen very little of you, though 
 more than any one here ; and I am a person of a peculiar turn of 
 mind. Perhaps there is not another individual in this house who 
 would even allude to the possibility of engaging a servant without 
 a character." 
 
 " Does the ship ask the wind for a character, when he bears her 
 over the sea without hire, and without reward? and shall you 
 require a character from me, when I request to serve you without 
 wages, and without pay ? " 
 
 " Such an engagement, Essper, it would be impossible for me 
 to enter into, even if I had need of your services, which at present 
 I have not. But I tell you, frankly, that I see no chance of your 
 suiting me. I should require an attendant of steady habits and 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 195 
 
 experience ; not one whose very appearance would attract atten- 
 tion when I wished to be unobserved, and acquire a notoriety for 
 the master, which he detests. I warmly advise you to give up all 
 idea of entering into a state of life for which you are not in the 
 least suited. Believe me, your stall will be a better friend than a 
 master. Now leave me." 
 
 Essper remained one moment with his eyes still fixed on the 
 ground ; then walking vei'y rapidly up to Vivian, he di'opped on 
 his knee, kissed his hand, and disappeared. 
 
 Mr. St. George breakfasted with the Baron, and the gentlemen 
 called on Lady Madeleme early in the morning to propose a drive 
 to Stein Castle ; but she excused herself, and Vivian following her 
 example, the Baron and Mr. St. George "patronised" the Fitzlooms, 
 because there was nothing else to do. Vivian again joined the 
 ladies in their morning walk ; but Miss Fane was not in her usual 
 high spirits — she complained more than once of her cousin's 
 absence ; and this, connected with some other circumstances, gave 
 Vivian the first impression that her feelings towards Mr. St. 
 George were not merely those of a relation. As to the Chevalier 
 de Boefflem-s, Vivian soon found that it was utterly impossible to 
 be on intimate terms with a being without an idea. The Cheva- 
 lier was certainly not a very fit representative of the gay, gallant, 
 mercurial Frenchman : he rose very late, and employed the whole 
 of the morning in reading the French journals and playing billiards 
 alternately with Prince Salvinski and Count von Altenburgh. 
 
 These gentlemen, as well as the Baron, Vivian, and Mr. St. 
 George, were to dine this day at the New House. 
 
 They found assembled, at the appointed hour, a party of about 
 thirty individuals. The dinner was sumptuous, the wines superb. 
 At the end of the banquet, the company adjourned to another 
 room, where play was proposed, and immediately commenced. 
 His Imperial Highness did not join in the game ; but, seated in a 
 corner of the apartment, was surrounded by his aides-de-camp, 
 whose busmess Avas to bring their master constant accounts of the 
 fortunes of the table, and the fate of his bets. His Highness did 
 not stake. 
 
 Vivian soon found that the game was played on a very different 
 scale at the New House to what it was at the Redoute. He 
 spoke most decidedly to the Baron of his detestation of gambling, 
 and expressed his unwillingness to play ; but the Baron, although 
 he agreed with him in his sentiments, advised him to conform for 
 the evening to the universal custom. As he could afi'ord to lose, 
 he consented, and staked boldly. This night very considerable 
 sums were lost and won ; but none returned home greater winners 
 than Mr. St. George and Vivian Grey. 
 
196 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The first few days of an acquaintauce with a new scene of life, 
 andwitli new cliaracters, generally appear to pass very slowly; 
 not certainly from the weariness which they induce, but rather 
 from the keen attention which every little circumstance commands. 
 When the novelty has worn off, when we have discovered that the 
 new characters differ little from all others we have met before, and 
 that the scene they inhabit is only another variety of the great 
 order we have so often observed, we relapse into our ancient 
 habits of inattention ; we think more of ourselves, and less of 
 those we meet ; and musing our moments away in reverie, or in a 
 vain attempt to cheat the coming day of the monotony of the 
 present one, we begin to find that the various-vested hours have 
 bounded and are bounding away in a course at once imperceptible, 
 uninteresting, and unprofitable. Then it is, that terrified at our 
 nearest approach to the great river, whose dark windings it seems 
 the business of all to forget, we start from our stupor to mourn 
 over the rapidity of that collective sum of past-time, every 
 individual hour of which we have in turn execrated for its 
 sluggishness. 
 
 Vivian had now been three weeks at Ems, and the presence of 
 Lady Madeleine Trevor and her cousin alone induced him to re- 
 main. Whatever the mystery existing between Lady Madeleine 
 and the Baron, his efforts to attach himself to her party had been 
 successful. The great intimacy subsisting between the Baron and 
 her brother materially assisted in bringing about this result. For 
 the first fortnight, the Baron was Lady Madeleine's constant at- 
 tendant in the evening promenade, and sometimes in the morning 
 walk ; and though there were few persons whose companionship 
 could be preferred to that of Baron von Konigstein, still Vivian 
 sometimes regretted that his friend and Mr. St. George had not 
 continued their rides. The presence of the Baron seemed alwaj's 
 to have an unfavourable influence upon the spirits of Miss Fane, 
 and the absurd and evident jealousy of IMr. St. George prevented 
 Vivian from finding, in her agreeable conversation, some consola- 
 tion for the loss of the sole enjoyment of Lady Madeleine's exhi- 
 larating presence. JNIr. St. George had never met Vivian's ad- 
 vances with cordiality, and he now treaced him with studied cold- 
 ness. 
 
 The visits of the gentlemen to the New House had been fre- 
 quent. The saloon of the Grand-Duke was open every evening, 
 and in spite of his great distaste for the fatal amusement which 
 was there invariably pursued, Vivian found it impossible to decline 
 
VIVIAN GRF,Y. 197 
 
 frequently attending', without subjecting- his motives to painful 
 misconception. His extraordinary fortune did not desert him, 
 and rendered his attendance still more a duty. The Baron was 
 not so successful as on his first evening's venture at the Redoute ; 
 but Mr. St. George's star remained favourable. Of Essper, Vivian 
 had seen little. In passing through the Bazaar one morning, 
 which he seldom did, he found to his surprise that the former con- 
 juror had doffed his quaint costume, and was now attired in the 
 usual garb of men of his condition of life. As Essper was busily 
 employed at the moment, Vivian did not stop to speak to him ; 
 but he received a respectful bow. Once or twice, also, he had met 
 Essper in the Baron's apartments ; and he seemed to have become 
 a very great favourite with the servants of his Excellency, and the 
 Chevalier de Boaffleurs, particularly with his former butt, ErnstoriF, 
 to whom he now behaved with great deference. 
 
 For the first fortnight, the Baron's attendance on Lady Made- 
 leine was constant. After this time he began to slacken in his 
 attentions. He first disappeared from the morning walks, and yet 
 he did not ride ; he then ceased from joining the party at Lady 
 Madeleine's apartments in the evening, and never omitted increas- 
 ing the circle at the New House for a single night. The whole 
 of the fourth week the Baron dined vvith his Imperial Highness. 
 Although the invitation had been extended to all the gentlemen 
 from the first, it had been agreed that it was not to be accepted, in 
 order that the ladies should not find their party in the Saloon less 
 numerous or less agreeable. The Baron was the first to break 
 through a rule which he had himself proposed ; and Mr. St. George 
 and the Chevalier de Bceffleurs soon followed his example. 
 
 " Mr. Grey," said Lady Madeleine one evening, as she was about 
 to leave the gardens, " we shall be happy to see you to-night if 
 you are not engaged." 
 
 " I fear that I am engaged," said Vivian ; for the receipt of 
 some letters from England made him little inclined to enter into 
 society. 
 
 " Oh, no ! you cannot be," said Miss Fane : " pray come ! I 
 know you only want to go to that terrible New House ; I wonder 
 what Albert can find to amuse him there ; I fear no good : men 
 never congregate together for any beneficial purpose. I am sure, 
 with all his gastronomical affectations, he would not, if all were 
 right, prefer the most exquisite dinner in the world to our society. 
 As it is, we scarcely see him a moment. I think, that you are the 
 only one who has not deserted the Saloon. For once, give up the 
 New House." 
 
 Vivian smiled at Miss Fane's warmth, and could not persist in 
 
198 VIVIAN GEEY. 
 
 his refusal, although she did dilate most provokingly on the ab- 
 sence of her cousin. He therefore soon joined them. 
 
 " Lady Madeleine is assisting me in a most important work, 
 Mr. Grey. I am making drawings of the Valley of the Rhine ; 
 I know that you are acquainted with the scenery ; you can, per- 
 haps, assist me with your advice about this view of Old Hatto"s 
 Castle." 
 
 Vivian was so completely master of every spot in the Rhine- 
 land, that he had no difficulty in suggesting the necessary altera- 
 tions. The drawings were vivid representations of the scenery 
 which they professed to depict ; and Vivian forgot his melancholy 
 as he attracted the attention of the fair artist to points of in- 
 terest, unknown or unnoticed by the Guide-books and the Dia- 
 ries. 
 
 "You mu3t look forward to Italy with great interest, Miss 
 Fane?" 
 
 " The greatest ! I shall not, however, forget the Rhine, even 
 among the Apennines." 
 
 " Our intended fellow-travellers. Lord Mounteney and his fa- 
 mily, are already at Milan," said Lady Madeleine to Vivian ; 
 " we were to have jomed their party — Lady Mounteney is a 
 Trevor." 
 
 " I have had the pleasure of meeting Lord Mounteney in Eng- 
 land, at Sir Berdmore Scrope's: do you know him?" 
 
 " Shghtly. The Mounteneys pass the winter at Rome, where I 
 hope we shall join them. Do you know the family intimately ?" 
 
 " Mr. Ernest Clay, a nephew of his Lordship's, I have seen a great 
 deal of; I suppose, according to the adopted phraseology, I ought 
 to describe him as my friend, although I am ignorant where he is 
 at present ; and although, unless he is himself extremely altered, 
 there scarcely can be two persons who now more differ in their 
 pursuits and tempers than ourselves." 
 
 " Ernest Clay ! is he a friend of yours ? — He is at Munich : at- 
 tached to the Legation. I see you smile at the idea of Ernest 
 Clay drawing up a protocol !" 
 
 " Madeleine, you have never read me Cai'oliue Mounteney's 
 letter, as you promised," said Miss Fane ; " I suppose full of 
 raptures — ' the Alps, and Apennines, the Pyi'ensean, and the River 
 Po?'" 
 
 " By no means : the whole letter is filled with an account of the 
 Ballet at La Scala; which, according to Caroline, is a thousand 
 times more interesting than Mont-Blanc or the Simplou." 
 
 " One of the immortal works of Vigano, 1 suppose," said Vi- 
 vian ; " he has raised the ballet of action to an equality with tragedy . 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 199 
 
 I have heard my father mention the splendid effect of his Vestale 
 and his Otello." 
 
 " And yet," said Violet, " I do not like Othello to be pro- 
 faned. It is not for operas and ballets. We requii-e the thrilling 
 words." 
 
 " It is very true ; yet Pasta's acting in the opera was a grand 
 performance; and I have myself seldom witnessed a more mas- 
 terly effect produced by any actor in the world, than I did a fort- 
 night ago, at the Opera at Darmstadt, by Wild in Othello." 
 
 "I think the history of Desdemona is the most affecting of 
 all tales," said Miss Fane. 
 
 " The violent death of a woman, young, lovely, and innocent, is 
 assuredly the most terrible of tragedies," observed Vivian. 
 
 "I have often asked myself," said Miss Fane, "which is the 
 most terrible destiny for the young to endure: — to meet death 
 after a life of anxiety and suffering ; or suddenly to be cut off in 
 the enjoyment of all things that make life delightful." 
 
 " For my part," said Vivian, " in the last instance, I think that 
 death can scarcely be considered an evil. How infinitely is such 
 a destiny to be preferred to that long apprenticeship of sorrow, at 
 the end of which we are generally as unwilling to die as at the 
 commencement ! " 
 
 " And yet," said Miss Fane, " there is something fearful in the 
 idea of sudden death." 
 
 " Very fearful," muttered Vivian, " in some cases ; " for he 
 thought of one whom he had sent to his great account before 
 his time. 
 
 " Violet, my dear ! " said Lady Madeleine, " have you finished 
 your drawing of the Bingenloch ? " But Miss Fane would not leave 
 the subject. 
 
 " Very fearful in all cases, Mr. Grey. How few of us are pre- 
 pared to leave this world without warning ! And if from youth, or 
 sex, or natural disposition, a few may chance to be better fitted for 
 the great change than their companions, still I always tliink that 
 in those cases in which we view our fellow-creatures suddenly de- 
 parting from this world, apparently without a bodily or mental 
 pang, there must be a moment of suffering, which none of us can 
 understand ; a terrible consciousness of meeting death in the very 
 flush of life, a moment of suffering, which, from its intense and 
 novel character, may appear an eternity of anguish. I have 
 always looked upon such an end as the most fearful of dis- 
 pensations." 
 
 "Violet, my dear," said her Ladyship, "let us talk no more 
 of death. You have been silent a fortnight. I think to-night 
 you may sing." Miss Fane rose and sat down to the instrument. 
 
200 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 It was a lively air, calculated to drive away all melancholy 
 feelings, and cherishing sunny views of human life. But Rossini's 
 Muse did not smile to-night upon her who invoked its gay spirit ; 
 and ere Lady Madeleine could interfere, Violet Fane had found 
 more congenial emotions in one of Weber's prophetic symphonies. 
 
 O Music ! miraculous art, that makes the poet's skill a jest ; 
 revealing to the soul inexpressible feelings, by the aid of inexpli- 
 cable sounds ! A blast of thy trumpet, and millions rush forward 
 to die ; a peal of thy organ, and uncounted nations sink down to 
 pray. Mighty is thy threefold power ! 
 
 First, thou canst call up all elemental sounds, and scenes, and 
 subjects, with the definiteness of reality. Strike the lyre ! Lo ! the 
 voice of the winds — the flash of the lightning — the swell of the 
 wave — the solitude of the valley ! 
 
 Then thou canst speak to the secrets of a man's heart as if by 
 inspiration. Strike the lyre ! Lo ! our early love — our treasured 
 hate — our withered joy — our flattering hope! 
 
 And, lastly, by thy mysterious melodies, thou canst recall man 
 from all thought of this world and of himself — ^bringing back to 
 his soul's memory dark but delightful recollections of the glorious 
 heritage which he has lost, but which he may win again. Strike 
 the lyre ! Lo ! Paradise, with its palaces of inconceivable splendour, 
 and its gates of unimaginable glory ! 
 
 When Vivian left the apartment of Lady Madeleine, he felt no 
 inclination to sleep ; and instead of retiring to rest, he bent his 
 steps towards the gardens. It was a rich summer night ; the air, 
 recovered from the sun's scorching rays, was cool, not chilling. 
 The moon was still behind the mountains ; but the dark blue 
 heavens were studded with innumerable stars, whose tremulous 
 light quivered on the face of the river. All human sounds had 
 ceased to agitate ; and the note of the nightingale, and the rush 
 of the waters, banished monotony without disturbing reflection. 
 But not for reflection had Vivian Grey deserted his chamber : his 
 heart was full — but of indefinable sensations; and, forgetting 
 the world in the intenseness of liis emotions, he felt too much to 
 think. 
 
 How long he had been pacing by the side of the river he knew 
 not, when he was awakened from his reverie by the sound of 
 voices. He looked up, and saw lights moving at a distance. The 
 party at the New House had just broke up. He stopped beneath 
 a branching elm-tree for a moment, that the sound of his steps 
 might not attract their attention; and at this very instant the 
 garden gate opened, and closed with great violence. The figure 
 of a man approached. As he passed Vivian, the moon rose up 
 from above the brow of the mountain, and Ht up the counte- 
 
VIYIAN GEEY. 201 
 
 nance of the Baron. Despair was stamped on his distracted 
 featurca. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 On the evening of the next day, there was to be a grand 
 fete given at the New House by his Imperial Highness. The 
 ladies would treasure their energies for the impending ball, and 
 the morning was to pass without an excursion. Only Lady 
 Madeleine, whom Vivian met taking her usual early promenade in 
 the gardens, seemed inclined to prolong it, and even invited him 
 to be her companion. She talked of the fete, and she expressed 
 a hope that Vivian would accompany their party; but her air 
 was not festive, she seemed abstracted and disturbed, and her 
 voice, more than once, broke off abruptly at the commencement 
 of a sentence which it seemed she had not courage to finish. 
 
 At length she said suddenly, " Mr. Grey, I cannot conceal 
 any longer, that I am thinking of a very different subject from 
 the ball. As you form part of my thoughts, I shall not hesitate 
 to disburthen my mind to you, I wish not to keep you in sus- 
 pense. It is of the mode of life which I see my brother, which 
 I see you, pursuing here, that I wish to speak," she added with a 
 tremulous voice. " May I speak with freedom ? " 
 
 " With the most perfect unreserve and confidence." 
 
 " You are aware that Ems is not the first place at which I have 
 met Baron von Konigstein." 
 
 " I am not ignorant that he has been in England." 
 
 " It cannot have escaped you, that I acknowledged his ac- 
 quaintance with reluctance." 
 
 " I should judge, with the greatest." 
 
 " And yet it was with still more reluctance that I prevailed 
 upon myself to believe you wei-e his friend. I experienced great 
 relief, when you told me how short and accidental had been 
 your acquaintance. I have experienced great pain in witness- 
 ing to what that acquaintance has led ; and it is with extreme 
 sorrow for my own weakness, in not having had conrage to 
 speak to you before, and with a hope of yet benefiting you, that 
 I have been induced to speak to you now." 
 
 " I trust there is no cause either for your sorrow or your fear ; 
 but much, much cause for my gratitude." 
 
 " I have observed the constant attendance of yourself and my 
 brother at the New House with the utmost anxiety. I have 
 seen too much, not to be aware of the danger which young men, 
 and young men of honour, must always experience at such places. 
 
U02 VIVIAN GKEY. 
 
 Alas! I have seen too much of Barou von Konigstein, not to 
 know that at such places especially, his acquaintance is fatal. 
 The evident depression of your spirits yesterday determined me 
 on a step which I have for the last few days been considering. 
 I can learn nothing from my brother. I fear that I am even 
 now too late ; but I trust, that whatever may be your situation, 
 you will remember, Mr. Grey, that you have friends ; that you 
 will decide on nothing rash." 
 
 " Lady Madeleine," said Vivian, " I will not presume to express 
 the gratitude which your generous conduct allows me to feel. 
 This moment repays me for a year of agony. I affect not to mis- 
 understand your meaning. My opinion, my detestation of the 
 gaming-table has always, and must always, be the same. I do 
 assure you this, and all things, upon my honour. Far from being 
 involved, my cheek burns while 1 confess, that I am master of 
 a considerable sum, acquii'ed by this unhallowed practice. You 
 are aware of the singular fortune which awaited my first evening 
 at Ems ; that fortune was continued at the 2!s ew House, the very 
 first day I dined there, and when, unexpectedly, I was forced to 
 play ; that fatal fortune has rendered my attendance at the New 
 House necessary. I found it impossible to keep away, without 
 subjecting myself to painful obsei-vations. IMy depression of yes- 
 terday was occasioned by the receipt of letters from England. I 
 am ashamed of having spoken so much about myself, and so little 
 about those for whom you are more interested. So far as I can 
 judge, you have no cause, at present, for any uneasiness with re- 
 gard to Mr. St. George. You may, perhaps, have observed that 
 we are not verj- intimate, and therefore I cannot speak with any 
 precision as to the state of his fortunes ; but I have reason to be- 
 lieve that they are by no means unfavourable. And as for the 
 Baron, " 
 
 "Yes, yes!" 
 
 " I hardly know what I am to infer from your observations re- 
 specting him. I certainly should infer something extremely bad, 
 were not I conscious, that, after the experience of five weeks, I, 
 for one, have nothing to complain of him. The Baron, certainly, 
 is fond of play — plays high, indeed. He has not had equal fortime 
 at the New House as at the Redoute ; at least I imagine so, for 
 he has given me no cause to believe, in any way, that he is a 
 loser." 
 
 " If you could only understand the relief I feel at this moment, 
 I am sure you would not wonder that I prevailed upon myself to 
 speak to you. It may still be in my power, however, to prevent 
 evil" 
 
 ** Yes, certainly ! I think the best course now would be to speak 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 203 
 
 to me frankly respecting Von Konig-stein ; and if you are aware of 
 anything which has passed in England of a nature " 
 
 " Stop ! " said Lady Madeleine, agitated. Vivian was silent, 
 and some moments elapsed before his companion again spoke. 
 When she did, her eyes were fixed on the ground, and her tones 
 were low ; but her voice was calm and steady. 
 
 " I am going to accept, Mr. Grey, the confidence which you have 
 profi'ered me ; but I do not aS'ect to conceal that I speak, even 
 now, with reluctance — an effort, and it will soon be over. It is 
 for the best." Lady Madeleine paused one moment, and then re- 
 sumed with a firm voice : — 
 
 " Upwards of six years have now passed since Baron von Konig- 
 stein was appointed Minister to London, from the Court of . 
 
 Although apparently young for such an important mission, he had 
 already distinguished himself as a diplomatist ; and with all the 
 advantages of brilliant talents, various accomplishments, rank, re- 
 putation, person, and a fascinating address, I need not tell you 
 that he immediately became of consideration, even in the highest 
 circles. Mr. Trevor — I was then just married — was at this period 
 in office, and was constantly in personal communication with the 
 Baron. They became intimate, and he was our constant guest. 
 He had the reputation of being a man of pleasure. He was one, 
 for whose indiscretions there might be some excuse ; nor had any- 
 thing ever transpired which could induce us to believe, that Baron 
 von Konigstein could be guilty of anything but an indiscretion. 
 At this period a relation and former ward of Mr. Trevor's, a young 
 man of considerable fortune, and one whom we all fondly loved, 
 resided in our family. We considered him as our brother. With 
 this individual Baron von Konigstein formed a strong friendship ; 
 they were seldom apart. Our relation was not exempted from the 
 failings of young men. He led a dissipated life ; but he was very 
 young ; and as, unlike most relations, we never allowed any conduct 
 on his part to banish him from our society, we trusted that the 
 contrast which his own family afforded to his usual companions 
 would in time render his habits less irregular. We had now known 
 Baron von Konigstein for upwards of a year and a half, inti- 
 mately. Nothing had transpired during tliis period to induce Mr. 
 Trevor to alter the opinion which he had entertained of him from 
 the first; he believed him to be a man of honour, and, in spite of a 
 few imprudences, of principle. Whatever might have been my own 
 opinion of him at this period, I had no reason to doubt the natural 
 goodness of his disposition ; and though I could not hope that he 
 was one who would assist us in our plans for tlie reformation of 
 Augustus, I still was not sorry to believe, that in the Baron he would 
 at least find a companion very different from the unprincipled and 
 
204 VIVIAN GKEr. 
 
 selfish beings by whom he was too often surrounded. Something 
 occurred at this time, which placed Baron von Konigstein, accord- 
 ing to his own declaration, under lasting obligations to myself. In 
 the warmth of his heart he asked if there was any real and impor- 
 tant service which he could do me. I took advantage of the 
 moment to speak to him about our young friend ; I detailed to 
 him all our anxieties; he anticipated all my wishes, and promised 
 to watch over him, to be his guardian, his friend — his real 
 friend. Mr. Grey," continued her Ladyship, " I struggle to restrain 
 my feelings ; but the recollections of this period of my life are so 
 painful, that for a moment I must stop to recover myself." 
 
 For a few minutes they walked on in silence ; Vivian did not 
 speak; and when his companion resumed her tale, he, uncon- 
 sciously, pressed her arm. 
 
 " I try to be brief. About three months after the Baron had 
 given me the pledge which I mentioned, Mr. Trevor was called up 
 at an eai'ly hour one morning with the intelligence, that his late 
 ward was supposed to be at the point of death at a neighbouring 
 hotel. He instantly repaired to him, and on the way the fatal 
 truth was broken to him — our friend had committed suicide ! 
 He had been playing all night with one whom I cannot now name." 
 Here Lady Madeleine's voice died away, but with a struggle she 
 again spoke firmly. 
 
 " I mean with the Baron — some foreigners, also, and an English- 
 man — all intimate friends of Von Konigstein, and scarcely known 
 to the deceased. Our friend had been the only sufferer ; he had 
 lost his whole fortune — and more than his fortune : and, with a 
 heart full of despair and remorse, had, with his own hand, termi- 
 nated his life. The whole circumstances were so suspicious, that 
 they attracted public attention, and Mr. Trevor spared no exertion 
 to bring the offenders to justice. The Baron had the hardihood to 
 call upon us the next day; of course, in vain. He wrote violent 
 letters, protesting his innocence ; that he was asleep during most 
 of the night, and accusing the others who were present, of a con- 
 spiracy. The unhappy business now attracted very general interest. 
 Its consequence on me was an alarming illness of a most un- 
 fortunate kind; I was therefore prevented from interfering, or, 
 indeed, knowing anything that took place ; but my husband in- 
 formed me that the Baron was involved in a public correspondence ; 
 that the accused parties recriminated, and that finally he was con- 
 vinced that Von Konigstein, if there were any difierence, was, if 
 possible, the most guilty. However this might be, he soon obtained 
 liis recall from his own Government. He wrote to us both before 
 he left England ; but I was too ill to hear of his letters, until Mr. 
 Trevor informed me that he had returned them unopened. And 
 
VIVIAN GEEY. 205 
 
 now, I must give utterance to that which as j-ct has always 
 died upon my lips — the unhappy victim was the brother of Miss 
 Fane!" 
 
 "And Mr. St. George," said Vivian, "knowing all this, which 
 surely he must have done ; how came he to tolerate, for an instant, 
 the advances of such a man ? " 
 
 "My brother," said Lady INIadeleine, "is a very good young 
 man, with a kind heart and warm feelings ; but my brother has 
 not much knowledge of the world, and he is too honourable him- 
 self ever to believe that what he calls a gentleman can be dishonest. 
 My brother was not in England when the unhappy event took 
 place, and of course the vaiuous circumstances have not made the 
 same impression upon him as upon us. He has heard of the afifair 
 only from me ; and young men too often imagine that women are 
 apt to exaggerate in matters of this nature, which, of course, few 
 of us can understand. The Baron had not the good feeling, or 
 perhaps had not the power, connected as he was with the Grand- 
 Duke, to affect ignorance of our former acquaintance, or to avoid 
 a second one. I was obliged formally to present him to my brother. 
 I was quite perplexed how to act. I tliought of writing to him 
 the next morning, impressing upon him the utter impossibility of 
 our acquaintance being renewed : but this proceeding involved a 
 thousand difficulties. How was a man of his distinction — a man, 
 who not only from his rank, but from his disposition, is always a 
 remarkable and a remarked character, wherever he may be, — how 
 could he account to the Grand-Duke, and to his numerous friends, 
 for his not associating with a party with whom he was perpetually 
 in contact. Explanations — and worse, must have been the conse- 
 quence. I could hardly expect him to leave Ems ; it was, per- 
 haps, out of his power : and for Miss Fane to leave Ems at this 
 moment was most strenuously prohibited by her physician. While 
 I was doubtful and deliberating, the conduct of Baron von Konig- 
 stein himself prevented me from taking any step whatever. Feel- 
 ing all the awkwardness of his situation, he seized, with eagerness, 
 the opportunity of becoming intimate with a member of the family 
 whom he had not before known. His amusing conversation, and 
 insinuating address, immediately enlisted the feelings of my brother 
 in his favour. You know yourself that the very morning after 
 their introduction they were riding together. As they became 
 more intimate, the Baron boldly spoke to Albert in confidence, of 
 bis acquaintance with us in England, and of the unhappy circum- 
 stances which led to its termination. Albert was deceived by this 
 seeming courage and candour. He has become the Baron's friend, 
 and has adopted his version of the unhappy story; and as the 
 Baron has had too much delicacy to allude to the affair in a defence 
 
206 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 of himself to me, he calculated that the representations of Albert, 
 who, he was conscious, would not preserve the confidence which he 
 has always intended him to betray, would assist in producing' in my 
 mind an impression in his favour. The NeapoMtau story which he 
 told the other day at dinner, was of himself. I confess to you, that 
 though I have not for a moment doubted his guilt, still I was weak 
 enough to consider that his desire to become reconciled to me was 
 at least an evidence of a repentant heart ; and the Neapolitan 
 story deceived me. Actuated by these feelings, and acting as I 
 thought wisest under existing circumstances, I ceased to discourage 
 his advances. Your acquaintance, wliich we all desired to cultivate, 
 was perhaps another reason for enduring his presence. His subse- 
 quent conduct has undeceived me : I am convinced now, not only 
 of his former guilt, but also that he is not changed ; and that with 
 his accustomed talent, he has been acting a part which for some 
 reason or other he has no longer any object in maintaining." 
 " And Miss Fane," said Vivian, " she must know all ? " 
 " She knows nothing in detail ; she was so young at the time, 
 that we had no difficulty in keeping the particular circumstances 
 of her brother's death, and the sensation which it excited, a secret 
 from her. As she grew up, I have thought it proper that the mode 
 of his death should no longer be concealed from her ; and she has 
 learnt from some incautious observations of Albert, enough to make 
 her look upon the Baron with terror. It is for Violet," continued 
 Lady Madeleine, " that I have the severest apprehensions. For 
 the last fortnight her anxiety for her cousin has produced an 
 excitement, which I look upon with more dread than anything 
 that can happen to her. She has intreated me to speak to Albert, 
 and also to you. The last few days she has become more easy and 
 serene. She accompanies us to-night ; the weather is so beautiful 
 that the night air is scarcely to be feared ; and a gay scene will 
 have a favourable influence upon her spirits. Your depression last 
 night did not, however, escape her notice. Once more let me say 
 how I rejoice at hearmg what you hiive told me. I xmhesitatingly 
 believe all that you have said. Watch Albert. I have no fear for 
 yourself." 
 
 CHAPTER Xn. 
 
 The company at the Grand-Duke's fete was most select ; that 
 is to say, it consisted of everybody who was then at the Baths : 
 those who had been presented to his Higlmess having tlie privi- 
 lege of introducing any number of their friends ; and those who 
 had no friend to introduce them purchasing tickets at an enor- 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 207 
 
 mous price from Cracowsky, the wily Polish Intendant. The 
 entertainment was imperial — no expense and no exertion were 
 spared to make the hired lodging-house look like an hereditary 
 palace — and for a week previous to the great evening the whole 
 of the neighbouring to^m of Wisbaden, the little capital of the 
 duchy, had been put under contribution. What a harvest for 
 Cracowsky ! What a commission from the restaurateur for sup- 
 plying the refreshments! What a percentage on hired mirrors 
 and dingy hangings ! 
 
 The Grand-Duke, covered with orders, received every one with 
 the greatest condescension, and made to each of his guests a most 
 flattering speech. His suite, in new uniforms, simultaneously 
 bowed directly the flattering speech was finished. 
 
 " Madame von Furstenburg, I feel the greatest pleasure in 
 seeing you. My greatest pleasure is to be sui'rounded by my 
 friends. IMadame von Furstenbm-g, I trust that your amiable and 
 delightful family are quite well. [The party passed on.] Crava- 
 tischeff ! " continued his Highness, inclining his head round to one 
 of his aides-de-camp, " Cravatischeff ! a very fine woman is Ma- 
 dame von Furstenburg. There are few women whom I more 
 admire than Madame von Furstenburg. 
 
 " Prince Salvinski, I feel the greatest pleasure in seeing you. 
 My greatest pleasure is to be surrounded by my friends. Poland 
 honours no one more than Prince Salvinski. Cravatischefi" ! a 
 remarkable bore is Prince Salvinski. There are few men of whom 
 I have a greater terror than Prince Salvinski. 
 
 " Baron von Konigstein, I feel the greatest pleasure in seeing 
 you. My greatest pleasure is to be surrounded by my friends. 
 Baron von Konigstein, I have not yet forgotten the story of the fair 
 Venetian. Cravatischefi"! an uncommonly pleasant feUow is Baron 
 von Konigstein. There are few men whose company I more 
 enjoy than Baron von Konigstein's. 
 
 " Count von Altenburgh, I feel the greatest pleasure in seeing 
 you. My greatest pleasure is to be surrounded by my friends. 
 You wiU not forget to give me your opinion of my Austrian 
 troop. Cravatischefi"! a very good billiard player is Count von 
 Altenburgh. There are few men whose play I would sooner bet 
 upon than Count von Altenburgh 's. 
 
 " Lady Madeleine Trevor, I feel the greatest pleasure in seeing 
 you. My greatest pleasure is to be surrounded by my friends. 
 Miss Fane, your servant; Mr. St. George, Mr. Grey. Cravatis- 
 chefi"! a most splendid woman is Lady Madeleine Trevor. There 
 is no woman whom I more admire than Lady Madeleine Trevor ! 
 and Cravatischefi"! Miss Fane, too! a remarkably fine girl is Miss 
 Fane." 
 
208 VIVIAN GEEr. 
 
 The great saloon of the New House afforded excellent accom- 
 modation for the dancers. It opened on the gardens, which, 
 though not very large, were tastefully laid out, and were this even- 
 ing brilliantly illuminated. In the smaller saloon the Austrian troop 
 amused those who were not fascinated by waltz or quadrille with 
 acting proverbs : the regular dramatic performance was thought 
 too heavy a business for the evening. There was sufficient amuse- 
 ment for all ; and those who did not dance, and to whom pro- 
 verbs were no novelty, walked and talked, stared at others, and 
 were themselves stared at ; and this, perhaps, was the greatest 
 amusement of all. Baron von Konigstein did certainly to-night 
 look neither like an unsuccessful gamester nor a designing villain. 
 Among many who were really amusing, he was the most so, and, 
 apparently without the least consciousness of it, attracted the ad- 
 miration of all. To the Trevor party he had attached himself im- 
 mediately, and was constantly at her Ladyship's side, introducing 
 to her, in the course of the evening, his own and Mr. St. George's 
 particular friends — Mr. and Mrs. Fitzloom. Among many smiling 
 faces Vivian Grey's was clouded ; the presence of the Baron an- 
 noyed him. When they first met he was conscious that he was 
 stiff and cool. One moment's reflection convinced him of the 
 folly of his conduct, and he made a struggle to be very civil. In 
 five minutes' time he had involuntarily insulted the Baron, who 
 stared at his friend, and evidently did not comprehend him. 
 
 " Grey," said his Excellency, very quietly, " you are not in a good 
 humour to-night. What is the matter? This is not at all a 
 temper to come to a fete in. What ! won't Miss Fane dance with 
 you ?" asked the Baron, with an arch smile. 
 
 " I wonder what can induce your Excellency to talk such non- 
 sense ! " 
 
 " Your Excellency ! — by Jove, that's good ! What the deuce is 
 the matter with the man? It is Miss Fane, then — eh?" 
 
 " Baron von Konigstein, I wish you to understand -" 
 
 " My dear fellow, I never could understand anything. I think 
 you have insulted me in a most disgraceful manner, and I posi- 
 tively must call you out, unless you promise to dine at my rooms 
 with me to-morrow, to meet De Bceffleurs." 
 
 " I cannot." 
 
 " Why not ? You have no engagement with Lady ^Madeleine 
 I know, for St. George has agreed to come." 
 
 " Yes ?'" 
 
 "De Bceffleurs loaves Ems next week. It is sooner than he 
 expected, and I wisli to have a quiet evening together before he 
 goes. I should be very vexed if you were not there. We have 
 scarcely been enough together lately. What with the New House 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 209 
 
 in the evening', and riding parties in the morning, and those Fitz- 
 loom girls, with whom St. George is playing a most foolish game — 
 he will be taken in now, if he is not on his guard —we really never 
 meet, at least not in a quiet, friendly way ; and so now, will you 
 come ? " 
 " St. George is positively coming?" 
 
 " Oh yes ! positively ; do not be afraid of his gaining ground on 
 the little Violet in your absence." 
 
 " Well, then, my dear Von Konigstein, I will come." 
 
 " Well, that is yourself again. It made me quite unhappy to 
 see you look so sour and melancholy ; one would have thought 
 that I was some bore, Salvinski at least, by the way you spoke to 
 me. Well, mind you come — it is a promise : — good. I must go 
 and say just one word to the lovely little Saxon, and, by-the-bye. 
 Grey, one word before I am off. List to a friend, you are on the 
 wrong scent about Miss Fane ; St. George, I think, has no chance 
 there, and now no wish to succeed. The game is your own, if 
 you like ; trust my word, she is an angel. The good powers 
 prosper you!" So saying, the Baron glided off. 
 
 Mr. St. George had danced with Miss Fane the only quadrille 
 in which Lady Madeleine allowed her to join. He was now 
 waltzing with Aurelia Fitzloom, and was at the head of a band of 
 adventurous votaries of Terpsichore ; who, wearied with the com- 
 mon-place convenience of a saloon, had ventured to invoke the 
 Muse on the lawn. 
 
 " A most interesting sight. Lady Madeleine ! " said Mr. Fitz- 
 loom, as he offered her his arm, and advised their instant presence 
 as patrons of the " Fete du Village" for such Baron von Konig- 
 stein had most happily termed it. " A delightful man that Baron 
 von Konigstein, and says such delightful things ! Fete du Vil- 
 lage ! how very good ! " 
 
 . " That is Miss Fitzloom, then, whom my brother is waltzing 
 with ?" asked Lady Madeleine. 
 
 " Not exactly, my Lady," said Mr. Fitzloom, " not exactly Miss 
 Fitzloom, rather Miss Aurelia Fitzloom, my third daughter ; ow 
 third eldest, as Mrs. Fitzloom sometimes says ; for really it is 
 necessary to distinguish, with such a family as ours, you 
 know." 
 
 " Let us walk," said Miss Fane to Vivian, for she was now leaning 
 upon his arm ; " the evening is deliciously soft, but even with the 
 protection of a cashmere I scarcely dare venture to stand still. 
 Lady Madeleine seems very much engaged at present. What 
 amusing people these Fitzlooms are ! " 
 
 " Mrs. Fitzloom ; I have not heard her voice yet." 
 
 *' No ; JNlrs. Fitzloom does not talk. Albert says she makes it a 
 
 14 
 
210 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 rule never to speak in tlie presence of a stranger. She deals 
 pleuteously, however, at home in domestic apophthegms. If you 
 could but hear him imitating them all! Whenever she does 
 speak, she finishes all her sentences by confessing that she is 
 conscious of her own deficiencies, but that she has taken care to 
 give her daughters the very best education. They are what Albert 
 calls fine girls, and I am glad he has made friends with them ; for, 
 after all, he must find it rather dull here. By-the-bye, Mr. Grey, 
 I am afraid that you cannot find this evening very amusing — the 
 absence of a favourite pursuit always makes a sensible void — and 
 these walls must remind you of more piquant pleasures than 
 waltzing with fine London ladies, or promenading up a dull 
 tei'race with an invalid." 
 
 " I assure you that you are quite misinformed as to the mode in 
 which I generally pass my evenings." 
 
 " I hope I am ! " said Miss Fane, in rather a serious tone ; " I 
 wish I could also be mistaken in my suspicious of the mode in 
 which Albert spends liis time. He is sadly changed. For the first 
 month that we were here, he seemed to prefer nothing in the world 
 
 to our society, and now 1 was nearly saying that we had not seen 
 
 him for one single evening these three weeks. I cannot understand 
 •what you find at this house of such absorbing interest. Although 
 I know you think I am much mistaken in my suspicions, stUl I feel 
 very anxious. I spoke to Albert to-day, but he scarcely answered 
 me ; or said that which it was a pleasure for me to forget." 
 
 " Mr. St. George should feel highly gratified in having excited 
 such an interest in the — mind of Miss Fane." 
 
 " He should not feel more gratified than all who are my friends ; 
 for all who are such I must ever experience the liveliest interest." 
 
 " How happy must those be who feel that they have a right to 
 count Miss Fane among their friends ! " 
 
 " I have the pleasure then, I assure you, of making many happy, 
 and among them Mr. Grey." 
 
 Vivian was surprised that he did not utter some complimentary 
 answer ; but he knew not why, the words would not come ; and 
 instt:ad of speaking, he was thinking of what had been spoken. 
 
 " How brilliant are these gardens ! " said Vivian, looking at the 
 sky. 
 
 " Very brilliant ! " said Miss Fane, looking on the ground. Con- 
 versation seemed nearly extinct, and yet neither ofi"ered to turn 
 back. 
 
 " Good heavens ! you arc ill," exclaimed Vivian, when, on acci- 
 dentally turning to his companion, he found she was in tears. 
 "Shall we go back, or will you Mait here? — Can I fetch any- 
 thing? — I fear you are very ill!" 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 211 
 
 " No, not very ill, but very foolish ; let us walk on," and, sighing', 
 she seemed suddenly to recover. 
 
 " I am ashamed of this foolishness — what can you think ? but I 
 am so agitated, so nervous — I hope you will forget 1 hope " 
 
 " Perhaps the air has suddenly affected you — shall we go in ? 
 Nothing has been said — nothing happened — no one has dared to 
 say, or do, anything to annoy you ? Speak, dear Miss Fane, the — 
 
 the " the words died on Vivian's lips, yet a power he could 
 
 not withstand urged him to speak — " the — the — the Baron?" 
 
 " Ah ! " almost shrieked Miss Fane, — " stop one second — an 
 effort, and I must be well — notliiug has happened, and no one has 
 done or said anything ; but it is of something that should be said — 
 of something that should be done, that I was thinking, and it over- 
 came me." 
 
 " Miss Fane," said Vivian, " if there be anything whicli I can do 
 or devise, any possible way that I can exert myself in your service, 
 speak with the most perfect confidence ; do not fear that your 
 motives will be misconceived — that your purpose will be misinter- 
 preted — that your confidence will be misunderstood. You are ad- 
 dressing one who would lay down his life for you, who is willing 
 to perform all your commands, and forget them when performed. 
 I beseech you to ti'ust me ; believe me that you shall not repent." 
 
 She answered not, but holding down her head, covered her face 
 with her small white hand ; her lovely face which was crimsoned 
 with her flashing blood. They were now at the end of the terrace ; 
 to return was impossible. If they remained stationary, they must 
 be perceived and joined. What was to be done? He led her 
 down a retired walk still fartlier from the house. As they pro- 
 ceeded in silence, the bursts of the music and the loud laughter of 
 the joyous guests became fainter and fainter, till at last the sounds 
 died away into echo, and echo into silence. 
 
 A thousand thoughts dashed through Vivian's mind in rapid 
 succession : but a painful one — a most painful one to him, to any 
 man — always remained the last. His companion would not 
 speak ; yet to allow her to return home without freeing her mind 
 of the fearful burthen which evidently overwhelmed it, was im- 
 possible. At length he broke a silence which seemed to have 
 lasted an age. 
 
 " Do not believe that I am taking advantage of an agitating 
 moment, to extract from you a confidence which you may repent. 
 I feel assured that I am right in supposing that you have contem- 
 plated in a calmer moment the possibility of my being of service 
 to you ; that, in short, there is something in which you require my 
 assistance, my co-operation — an assistance, a co-operation, which, 
 if it produce any benefit to you, will make me at length feel that I 
 
212 VIVIAN GEEY. 
 
 have not lived in vain. No feeling of false delicacy shall prevent 
 me from assisting you in giving utterance to thoughts, which you 
 have owned it is absolutely necessary should be expressed. Re- 
 member that you have allowed me to believe that we are friends : 
 do not prove by your silence that we are friends only in name." 
 
 "I am overwhelmed — I cannot speak — my face burns with 
 shame ; I have miscalculated my strength of mind — perhaps my 
 physical strength ; what, what must you think of me ?" She spoke 
 in a low and smothered voice. 
 
 "Think of you! everything which the most devoted respect 
 dare think of an object which it reverences. Do not believe that 
 I am one who would presume an instant on my position, because 
 I have accidentally witnessed a young and lovely woman betrayed 
 into a display of feeling which the artificial forms of cold society 
 cannot contemplate, and dare to ridicule. You are speaking to 
 one who also has felt; who, though a man, has wej)t; who can 
 comprehend sorrow ; who can understand the most secret sensa- 
 tions of an agitated spirit. Dare to trust me. Be convinced 
 that hereafter, neither by word nor look, hint nor sign, on my 
 part, shall you feel, save by your own wish, that you have appeared 
 to Vivian Grey in any other light than in the saloons we have just 
 quitted." 
 
 " Generous man, I dare trust anything to you that I dare trust 
 to human being ; but " here her voice died away. 
 
 " It is a painful thing for me to attempt to guess your thoughts ; 
 but if it be of Mr. St. George that you are thinking, have no 
 fear respecting him — have no fear about his present situation — 
 trust to me that there shall be no anxiety for his future one. I 
 wiU be his unknown guardian, his unseen friend ; the promoter of 
 your wishes, the protector of your " 
 
 " No, no," said Miss Fane, with firmness, and looking quickly 
 up, as if her mind were relieved by discovering that all this time 
 Vivian had never imagined she was thinking of him. " No, no, 
 you are mistaken ; it is not of Mr. St. George, of Mr. St. George 
 only, that I am thinking. I am much better now ; I shall be able 
 in an instant to speak — be able, I trust, to forget how foolish — 
 how very foolish J have been." 
 
 " Let us walk on," continued Miss Fane ; " let us walk on ; we 
 can easily account for our absence if it be remarked ; and it is 
 better that it should be all over : I feel quite well ; and shall be 
 able to speak quite firmly now." 
 
 " Do not hurry ; there is no fear of our absence being remarked, 
 Lady Madeleine is so surrounded." 
 
 " After what has passed, it seems ridiculous in me to apologise, 
 as I had intended, for speaking to you on a graver subject than 
 
VITIAN GKET. 213 
 
 ■what has generally formed the point of conversation between us. 
 I feared that you might misunderstand the motives which have 
 dictated my conduct : I have attempted not to appear agitated, 
 and I have been overcome. I trust that you will not be offended 
 if I recur to the subject of the New House. Do not believe that 
 I ever would have allowed my fears, my girlish fears, so to have 
 overcome my discretion ; so to have overcome, indeed, all propriety 
 of conduct on my part ; as to have induced me to have sought an 
 interview with you, to moralise to you about your mode of life. 
 No, no, it is not of this that I wish to speak, or rather that I wiQ 
 speak. I will hope, I will pray, that Albert and yourself have 
 never found in that which you have followed as an amusement, 
 the source, the origin, the cause of a single unhappy or even 
 anxious moment; Mr. Grey, I will believe all this." 
 
 " Dearest Miss Fane, believe it with confidence. Of St. George, 
 I can with sincerity aver, that it is my firm opinion, that far from 
 being involved, his fortune is not in the slightest degree injured. 
 Believe me, I wUl not attempt to quiet you now, as I would have 
 done at any other time, by telling you that you magnify your 
 fears, and allow your feelings to exaggerate the danger which 
 exists. There has been danger — there is danger ; — play, high play, 
 has been and is pursued at this New House, but Mr. St. George 
 has never been a loser; and if the exertions of man can avail, 
 never shall, at least unfairly. As to the other individual, whom 
 you have honoured by the interest which you have professed in his 
 welfare, no one can more thoroughly detest any practice which 
 exists in this world than he does the gaming-table." 
 
 " Oh ! you have made me so happy ! I feel so persuaded that 
 you have not deceived me ; the tones of your voice, your manner, 
 your expression, convince me that you have been sincere, and that 
 I am happy, at least for the present." 
 
 " For ever, I trust. Miss Fane." 
 
 "Let me now prevent future misery — let me speak about that 
 which has long dwelt on my mind like a nightmare, about that 
 which I did fear it was almost too late to speak. Not of your 
 pursuit, not even of that fatal pursuit, do I now think, but of your 
 companion in this amusement, in all amusements; it is he, he 
 whom I dread, whom I look upon with horror, even to him, I cannot 
 say, with hatred ! " 
 
 " The Baron?" said Vivian, calmly. 
 
 " I cannot name him. Dread him, fear him, avoid him ! it is he 
 that I mean, he of whom I thought that you were the victim. 
 You must have been surprised, you must have wondered at our 
 conduct towards him. Oh! when Lady Madeleine turned from 
 him with coolness, when she answered him in tones which to you. 
 
1114 VIVIAN GEET. 
 
 might have appeared harsh, she behaved to him, iu comparison 
 to what is his due, and what we sometimes feel to be our duty, 
 •with affection, actually with affection and regard. No human 
 being can know what horror is, until he looks upon a fellow- 
 creature with the eyes that I look upon that man." She leant 
 upon Vivian's arm with her whole weight, and even then he 
 thought she must have sunk ; neither spoke. How solemn is the 
 silence of sorrow I 
 
 " I am overcome," continued Miss Fane ; " the remembrance of 
 what he has done overwhelms me — I cannot speak it — the recol- 
 lection is death — yet you must know it. That you might know 
 it, I have before attempted. I wished to have spared myself the 
 torture which I now endure. You must know it. I wUl write — 
 ay ! that will do. I will write ; I cannot speak now, it is impossible ; 
 but beware of him ; you are so young ! " 
 
 " I have no words now to thank you, dear Miss Fane, for this. 
 Had I been the victim of Von Konigstein, I should have been 
 repaid for all my misery by feeling that you regretted its inflic- 
 tion ; but I trust that I am in no danger : — though young, I fear 
 that I am one who must not count his time by calendars. 'An 
 aged interpreter, though young in days.' Would that I could 
 be deceived! Fear not for your cousin. Trust to one whom 
 you have made think better of this world, and of his fellow- 
 creatures." 
 
 The sound of approaching footsteps, and the light laugh of 
 pleasure, told of some who were wandering like themselves. 
 
 "We had better return," said Miss Fane; "I fear that Lady 
 Madeleine will observe that I look unwell. Some one approaclies ! 
 — No ! — tliey pass only the top of the walk." It was Mr. St. 
 George and Aurelia Fitzloom. 
 
 Quick flew the brilliant hours ; and soon the dance was over, 
 and the music mute. 
 
 It was late when Vivian retired. As he opened his door he 
 was surprised to find lights in his chamber. The figure of 
 a man appeared seated at the table. It moved — it was Easper 
 George. 
 
 CHAPTER Xm. 
 
 The reader will remember that Vivian had agreed to dine, on 
 the day after the fete, with the Baron, in his private apartments. 
 This was an arrangement which, in fact, the custom of the house 
 did not permit; but the irregularities of great men who are 
 attended by chasseurs are occasionally winked at by a supple 
 
VIVIAN GEOCT. 215 
 
 maitre d'hotel. Vivian had reasons for not regretting his accept- 
 ance of the invitation ; and he never shook hands with the Che- 
 valier de Bceffleurs, apparently, with greater cordiality, than on 
 the day on which he met him at dinner at the Baron von Konig- 
 stein's. Mr. St. George had not arrived. 
 
 •* Past five ! " said the Baron ; " ridiug out, I suppose, with the 
 Fitzlooms. Aurelia is certainly a fine girl ; but I should think 
 that Lady Madeleine would hardly approve the connection. The 
 St. Georges have blood in their veins ; and would, I suppose, aa 
 soon think of marrying a Fitzloom as we Germans should of 
 marrying a woman without a von before her name. We are 
 quite alone, Grey, only the Chevalier and St. George. I had an 
 idea of asking Salvinski ; but he is such a regular steam-engine, 
 and began such a long story last night about his interview with the 
 King of A.shantee, that the bare possibility of his taking it into his 
 head to finish it to-day frightened me. You were away early 
 from the Grand-Duke's last night. The business went off well." 
 
 " Very well, indeed ! " said the Chevalier de Boefileurs ; com- 
 pleting by this speech the first dozen of words which he had uttered 
 since his stay at Ems. 
 
 " I think that last night Lady Madeleine Trevor looked per- 
 fectly magnificent ; and a certain lady, too, Grey, eh ? — Here is 
 St. George. My dear fellow, how are you? Has the fair Aurelia 
 recovered from the last night's fatigues ? Now, Ernstorff — dinner 
 as soon as possible." 
 
 The Baron made up to-day, certainly, for the silence of his 
 friend the Chevalier. He outdid himself. Story after story, 
 adventure after adventure, followed each other with exciting 
 haste. In fact, the Baron never ceased talking the whole dinner, 
 except when he refreshed himself with wine, which he drank 
 copiously. A nice observer would, perhaps, have considered the 
 Baron's high spirits artificial, and his conversation an effort. Yet 
 his temper, tliough lively, was generally equable ; and his ideas, 
 which always appeared to occur easily, were usually thrown out in 
 fluent phraseology. The dinner was long, and a great deal of 
 wine was drunk ; more than most of the parties present for a 
 long time had been accustomed to. About eight o'clock the 
 Chevalier proposed going to the Redoute, but the Baron objected. 
 
 " Let us have an evening altogether : surely we have had 
 emongh of the Redoute. In my opinion one of the advantages of 
 the fete is, that there is no New House to-night. Conversation is 
 a novelty. On a moderate calculation I must have told you to-day 
 at least fifty original anecdotes. I have done my duty. It is the 
 Chevalier's turn now. Come, De Bceffleurs — a choice one ! " 
 
 " I remember a story Prince Salvinski once told me." 
 
216 VIVIAN GBEY. 
 
 " No, no — that is too bad — none of that Polish bear's romances ; 
 if we have his stories, we may as well have his company." 
 
 '•' But it is a very curious story," continued the Chevalier, with 
 a little animation. 
 
 " Oh ! so is every story, according to the storier." 
 
 " I think, Von Konigstein, you imagine no one can teU a story 
 but yourself," said De Boeffleurs, actually indignant. Vivian 
 had never heard him speak so much before, and really began to 
 believe that he was not quite an automaton. 
 
 " Let us have it ! " said St. George. 
 
 " It is a story told of a Polish nobleman — a Count somebody : 
 — I never can remember their crack-jaw names. "Well ! the point 
 is this," said the silent little Chevalier, who, apparently, already 
 repented of the boldness of his offer, and, misdoubting his powers, 
 wished to begin with the end of his tale — " the point is this — he 
 was playing one day at Eearte with the Governor of Wilua — the 
 stake was trifling — but he had a bet, you see, with the Governor, of 
 a. thousand roubles ; a bet with the Governor's secretary — never 
 mind the amount, say two hundred and fifty, you see ; then, he 
 went on the turn-up with the Commandant's wife ; and took Ihe 
 pips on the trumps with the Archbishop of Warsaw. To under- 
 stand the point of the story, you see, you must have a distinct 
 conception how the game stood. You see, St. George, there Avas 
 the bet with the Governor, one thousand roubles ; the Governor's 
 secretary, — never mind the amount, say two hundred and fifty; 
 turn-up with the Commandant's lady, and the pips with the 
 Archbishop of Warsaw. Pi'oposed three times — one for the 
 king — the Governor drew ace — the Governor was already three 
 and the ten. When the Governor scored king, the Archbishop 
 gave the odds — drew knave queen one hand — the Count offered 
 to propose fourth time — Governor refused. King to six, ace fell 
 to knave — queen cleared on — Governor lost, besides bets with the 
 whole etat-raajor ; the Secretary gave his bill ; the Commandant's 
 Jady pawned her jewels ; and the Archbishop was done on the pips !" 
 
 " By Jove, what a Salvinski ! " 
 
 " How many trumps had the Governor ?" asked St. George. 
 
 " Three," said the Chevalier. 
 
 " Then it is impossible : I do not believe the story ; it could 
 not be." 
 
 " I beg your pardon," said the Chevalier ; " you see the Gover- 
 nor had " 
 
 "By Jove, don't let us have it all over again!" said the Baron. 
 " Well ! if this be your model for an after-dinner anecdote, which 
 ought to be as piquant as an anchovy toast, I ^iU never complain 
 of your silence in future." 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 317 
 
 " The story is a true story," said the Chevalier ; " have you got 
 a pack of cards, Von Konigstein ? I will show it you." 
 
 " There is not such a thing in the room," said the Baron. 
 
 " Well, I never heard of a room without a pack of cards before," 
 said the Chevalier ; " I will send for one to my own apartments." 
 
 '•' Perhaps Ernstorff has got a pack. Here, ErnstorfF, have you 
 got a pack of cards ? That's well ; bring it immediately." 
 
 The cards were brought, and the Chevalier began to fight his 
 battle over again; but could not satisfy Mr. St. George. " You 
 see, there was the bet with the Governor, and the pips, as I said 
 before, with the Archbishop of Warsaw." 
 
 " My dear De Boeflleurs, let's uo more of this. If you like to 
 have a game of Ecarte with St. George, well and good ; but as 
 for quarrelling the whole evening about some blundering lie of 
 Salvinski's, it really is too much. You two can play, and I can 
 talk to Don Vivian, who, by-the-bye, is rather of the rueful coun- 
 tenance to-night. Why, my dear fellow, I have not heard your 
 voice this evening : — frightened by the fate of the Archbishop of 
 Warsaw, I suppose ?" 
 
 " Ecarte is so devilish dull," said St. George ; " and it is such a 
 trouble to deal." 
 
 "I will deal for both, if you like," said De Boeffleurs; " I am 
 used to dealing." 
 
 " Oh! no — I won't play Ecarte ; let us have something in which 
 we can all join." 
 
 " Rouge-et-Noir," suggested the Chevalier, in a careless tone, 
 as if he had no taste for the amusement. 
 
 "There is not enough — is there?" asked St. George. 
 
 " Oh ! two are enough, you know — one deals, much more four." 
 
 " Well, I don't care — Rouge-et-Noir then — let us have Rouge- 
 et-Noir : — Von Konigstein, what say you to Rouge-et-Noir ? De 
 Boeffleurs says we can play it here very well. Come, Grey ! " 
 
 " Oh ! Rouge-et-Noir, Rouge-et-Noir," said the Baron ; " have 
 not you both had Rouge-et-Noir enough ? Am I not to be allowed 
 one holiday ? Well, anything to please you ; so Rouge-et-Noir, 
 if it must be so." 
 
 " If all wish it, I have no objection," said Vivian. 
 
 " Well then, let us sit down ; Ernstorff has, I dare say, another 
 pack of cards, and St. George will be dealer, I know he likes 
 that ceremony." 
 
 " No, no, I appoint the Chevalier." 
 
 " Very well," said De Boeffleurs, " the plan will be for two to 
 bank agamst the table ; the table to play on the same colour by 
 joint agreement. You can join me, Von Konigstein, and pay or 
 receive with me, from Mr. St. George and Grey." 
 
218 ' VrVIAN GBET. 
 
 ** I will bank with you, if you like, Chevalier," said Vivian 
 
 " Oh ! certainly ; that is if you like ; — but perhaps the Baron is 
 more used to banking ; you perhaps don't understand it." 
 
 " Perfectly ; it appears to me to be very simple." 
 
 «No — don't you bank, Grey," said St. George ; " I want you to 
 play with me against the Chevalier and the Baron — I like your 
 luck." 
 
 " Luck is very capricious, remember.'* 
 
 " Oh, no ! I like your luck ; don't bank." 
 
 « Be it so." 
 
 Playing commenced: an hour elapsed, and the situation of 
 none of the parties was materially different from what it had been 
 when they began the game. Vivian proposed leaving off; but 
 Mr. St. George avowed that he felt very fortunate, and that he 
 had a presentiment that he should win. Another hour elapsed, 
 and he had lost considerably. Eleven o'clock. — Vivian's luck had 
 also deserted him. Mr. St. George was losing desperately. Mid- 
 night. — Vivian had lost back half his gains on the season. St. George 
 still more desperate : all his coolness had deserted him. He had 
 persisted obstinately against a run on the red ; then floundered, 
 and got entangled in a see-saw, which alone cost him a thou- 
 sand. 
 
 Ernstorff now brought in refreshments ; and for a moment they 
 ceased playing. The Baron opened a bottle of champagne ; and 
 St. George and the Chevalier were stretching their legs and com- 
 posing their minds in very different ways — the first in walking ra- 
 pidly up and down the room, and the other by lying- very quietly 
 at his full length on the sofa. Vivian was employed in building 
 houses with the cards. 
 
 " Grey," said the Chevalier de Bosffleurs, " I cannot imagine 
 why you do not for a moment try to forget the cards : that is the 
 only way to win. Never sit musing over the table." 
 
 But Grey was not to be persuaded to give up building his pa- 
 goda ; which, now many stories high, like a more celebrated but 
 scarcely more substantial structure, fell with a crash. Vivian col- 
 lected the scattered cards into two divisions. 
 
 "Now," said the Baron, seating himself, "for St. George's 
 revenge." 
 
 The Chevalier and the greatest sufferer took their places. 
 
 "Is Ernstorff coming in again. Baron?" asked Vivian, 
 
 "No! I think not." 
 
 " Let us be sure ; it is disagreeable to be disturbed at tills- time 
 of night." 
 
 " Lock the door, then," said St. George. 
 
 "A very good plan," said Vivian ; and he locked it accordingly. 
 
VIVTAN GKEY. 219 
 
 " Now, gentlemen," said Vivian, rising from the table, and put- 
 ting both packs of cards into his pocket, — " Now, gentlemen, I 
 have another game to play." The Chevalier started on his chair, 
 the Baron turned pale, but both were silent. " Mr. St. George," 
 continued Vivian, "I think that you owe the Chevalier de Bosffleurs 
 about four thousand Napoleons, and to Baron von Konigstein 
 something more than half that sum. I have to inform you that it 
 is unnecessary for you to satisfy the claims of either of these gen- 
 tlemen, which are founded neither in law nor in honour." 
 
 " Mr. Grey, what am I to understand ?" asked the quiet Cheva- 
 lier de BoefBeurs, with the air of a wolf and the voice of a lion. 
 
 " Understand, sir ! " answered Vivian, sternly ; " that I am not 
 one who will be buUied by a black-leg." 
 
 " Grey! good God! what do you mean?" a.sked the Baron. 
 
 " That which it is my duty, not my pleasure, to explain, Baron 
 von Konigstein." 
 
 " If you mean to insinuate," burst forth the Chevalier. 
 
 " I mean to insinuate nothing ; I leave insinuations and inuendos 
 to chevaliers d'industrie. I mean to prove everything." 
 
 Mr. St. George did not speak, but seemed as utterly astounded 
 and overwhelmed as Baron von Konigstein liimself ; who, with his 
 arm leaning on the table, his hands clasped, and the forefinger of 
 his right hand playing convulsively on his left, was pale as death, 
 and did not even breathe. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Vivian, " I shall not detain you long, though 
 I have much to say that is to the purpose. I am perfectly cool, 
 and, believe me, perfectly resolute. Let me recommend to you all 
 the same temperament ; it may be better for you. Rest assured, 
 that if you flatter yourselves that I am one to be pigeoned, and 
 then bullied, you are mistaken. In one word, I am aware of 
 everything that has been arranged for the reception of Mr. 
 St. George and myself this evening. Your marked cards are in 
 my pocket, and can only be obtained by you with my life. Here 
 are two of us against two ; we are equally matched in number, 
 and I, gentlemen, am armed. K I were not, you would not dare 
 to go to extremities. Is it not, then, the wisest course to be tempe- 
 rate, my friends ? " 
 
 " This is some vile conspiracy of your own, fellow," said De 
 Boeffleurs : " marked cards indeed ! a pretty tale, forsooth ! The 
 Ministers of a first-rate power playing with marked cards ! The 
 story will gain credit, and on the faith of whom ? An adventurer 
 that no one knows; who, having failed this night in his usual 
 tricks, and lost money which he cannot pay, takes advantage of 
 the marked cards, which he has not succeeded in introducing, and 
 pretends, forsootli, that they are those which he has stolen from our 
 
220 VIVIAN GBEr. 
 
 table ; our own cards being, previously to bis accusation, concealed 
 in a secret pocket." 
 
 The impudence of the fellow staggered even Vivian. As for 
 Mr. St. George, he stared like a wild man. Before Vinan could 
 answer him, the Baron had broke silence. It was with the greatest 
 effort that he seemed to dig his words out of his breast. 
 
 "No — no — this is too much! it is all over! I am lost; but I 
 will not add crime to crime. Your courage and your fortune 
 have saved you, Mr. Grey, and your friend, from the designs of 
 villains. And you ! wretch," said he, turning to De Bceffleurs, 
 " sleep now in peace — at length you have undone me." He leant 
 on the table, and buried his face in his hands. 
 
 " Chicken-hearted fool ! " said the Chevalier ; " is this the end 
 of all your promises, and all your pledges ? But remember, sir ! 
 remember. I have no taste for scenes. Good night, gentlemen. 
 Baron, I expect to hear from you." 
 
 " Stop, sir ! " said Vivian ; " no one leaves this room without my 
 permission." 
 
 " I am at your service, sir, when you please," said the Chevalier. 
 
 " It is not my intention to detain you long, sir ; far from it ; 
 I have every inclination to assist you in your last exit from this 
 room — had I time, it should not be by the door ; as it is, go ! in 
 the devil's name." So saying, he hurled the adventurous French- 
 man half down the corridor. 
 
 " Baron von Konigstein," said Vivian, turning to the Baron ; 
 " you have proved yourself, by your conduct this evening, to be a 
 better man than I imagined you. I confess that I thought you had 
 been too much accustomed to such scenes, to be sensible of the 
 horror of detection." 
 
 " Never ! " said the Baron, with emphasis, with energy. The 
 firm voice and manner in which he pronounced this single word, 
 wonderfully contrasted with his delivery when he had last spoke, 
 but his voice immediately died away. 
 
 " 'Tis all over ! I have no wish to excite your pity, gentlemen, 
 or to gain your silence, by practising upon your feelings. Be silent ; 
 I am not the less ruined, not the less disgraced, not the less utterly 
 undone. Be silent; my honour, all the same, in four-and-twenty hours, 
 has gone for ever ! I have no motive, then, to deceive you. You 
 must believe what I speak ; even what I speak, the most degraded 
 of men. I say again, never, never, never, never, never was my 
 honour before sullied, though guilty of a thousand follies. You 
 see before you, gentlemen, the unhappy victim of circumstances — 
 of circumstances which he has in vain struggled to control, to 
 which he has at length fallen a victim. I am not pretending, for 
 a moment, that my crimes are to be accounted for by an inexo- 
 
VIVIAN GEEY. 321 
 
 rable fate, and not to be expiated by my everlasting misery. No, 
 no ! 1 have been too weak to be virtuous : but I have been tried, 
 tried most bitterly. I am the most unfortunate of men ; I viras 
 not born to be a villain. Four years have passed since I. was 
 banished from the country in which I was honoured ; my prospects 
 in life blasted ; ray peace of mind destroyed ; and all because a 
 crime was committed, of any participation in which I am as 
 innocent as yourselves. Driven in despair to wander, I tried, 
 in the wild dissipation of Naples, to forget my existence and 
 my misery. I found my fate in the person of this vile French- 
 man, who never since has quitted me. Even after two years of 
 madness in that fatal place, my natural disposition rallied; I 
 struggled to save myself; I quitted it. I was already involved to 
 De BoefHeurs ; I became still more so, in gaining from him the 
 means of satisfying all claims against me. Alas ! I found I had 
 sold myself to a devil, a very devil, with a heart like an adder's. 
 Incapable of a stray generous sensation, he has looked upon man- 
 kind during his whole life with the eyes of a bully of a gaming- 
 house. I still struggled to free myself from this man ; and I in- 
 demnified him for his advances, by procuring him a place in the 
 mission to which, with the greatest difficulty and perseverance, 
 I had at length obtained my appointment. In public life I yet 
 hoped to forget my private misery. At Frankfort I felt that, 
 though not happy, I might be calm. I determined never again 
 even to run the risk of enduring the slavery of debt.' I forswore, 
 with the most solemn oaths, the gaming table ; and had it not been 
 for the perpetual sight of De Boeffleurs, I might, perhaps, have 
 felt at ease ; though the remembrance of my blighted prospects, 
 the eternal feeling that I experienced of being born for nobler 
 ends, was quite sufficient perpetually to embitter my existence. 
 The second year of my Frankfort appointment I was tempted to 
 this unhappy place. The unexpected sight of faces which I had 
 known in England, though they called up the most painful asso- 
 ciations, strengthened me, nevertheless, in my resolution to be 
 virtuous. My unexpected fortune at the Redoute, the first night, 
 made me forget all my resolves, and has led to all this misery. 
 I make my sad tale brief. I got involved at the New House : De 
 Boeffleurs once more assisted me, though his terms were most 
 severe. Yet, yet again, I was mad enough, vile enough, to risk 
 what I did not possess. I lost to Prince Salvinski and a Russian 
 gentleman, a considerable sum on the night before the fete. It 
 is often the custom at the New House, as you know, among men 
 who are acquainted, to pay and receive all losses which are 
 considerable on the next night of meeting. The fete gave me 
 breathing time : it was not necessary to redeem my pledge till the 
 
22'^ VIVIAK GEEY. 
 
 fourth nig-lit. I rushed to De Boemeurs ; he refused to assist me; 
 alleging his own losses and his previous advance. What was to 
 be done ? No possibiUty of makuig any arrangement with Sal- 
 viuski. Had lie won of me as others have done, an arrangement, 
 though painful, would perhaps have been possible ; but, by a sin- 
 gular fate, whenever I have chanced to be successful, it is of this 
 mau that I have won. De BoetHeurs tlien was the only chance. 
 He was inexorable. I prayed to him ; I promised him everything ; 
 I offered him any terms ; in vain ! At length, when he had worked 
 me up to the last point of despair, he whispered hope. I listened, 
 — let me be quick ! — ^why finish ? — you loiow I fell ! " The Baron 
 again covered his face, and appeared perfectly overwhelmed. 
 
 " By God ! it is too horrible," said St. George. " Grey, let us 
 do something for him ? " 
 
 " My dear St. George," said Vivian, " be calm — ^you are taken 
 by surprise: I was prepared for all this. Believe me it is better for 
 you to leave us. I recommend you to retu'e, and meet me in 
 the morning : breakfast with me at eight, we can then arrange 
 everything." 
 
 Vivian's conduct had been so decisive, and evidently so well 
 matured, that St. George felt that, in the present case, it was for 
 liim only to obey ; and he retired, witli wonder still expressed on 
 his countenance ; for he had not yet, in the slightest degree, re- 
 covered from the first surprise. 
 
 " Baron vdh Konigstein," said Vivian to the unhappy man, 
 " we are alone. Mr. St. George has left the room : you are freed 
 from the painful presence of the cousin of Captain Fane." 
 
 " You know all, then ! " exclaimed the Baron quickly, looking 
 up ; " or you have read my secret thoughts. How wonderful ! at 
 that very moment I was thinking of my friend. Would I had 
 died with, him ! You know all then ; and now you must believe 
 me guilty. Yet, at tliis moment of annihilating sorrow, when I 
 can gain nothing by deceit, I swear — and if I swear falsely, 
 may I fall down a livid corpse at your feet — I swear that I was 
 guiltless of the crime for which I suffered, guiltless as yourself. 
 What may be my fate, 1 know not. Probably a few hours, and 
 all will be over. Yet, before we part, sir, it vould be a relief, 
 you would be doing a generous service to a dying man, to bear a 
 message from me to one with whom you are acquainted — to one 
 whom I cannot now name." 
 
 "Lady Madeleine Trevor?" 
 
 " Again you have read my thoughts ! Lady Madeleine ! — is it 
 she who told you of my early history ?" 
 
 " All that I know, is known to many." 
 1 must speak ! if you have time, if you can listen for half au 
 
VrVTAN GEEY. 223 
 
 hour to a miserable being, it would be a consolation to roe. I 
 f-hould die with ease, if 1 thought that Lady Madeleine could 
 believe me innocent of that first great offence." 
 
 " Your Excellency may address anything to me, if it be your 
 wish, even at this hour of the night. It may be better; after 
 what has passed, we neither of us can sleep, and this business 
 must be arranged at once." 
 
 "My object is, that Lady Madeleine should receive from me 
 at this moment, at a time when I can have no interest to deceive, 
 an account of the particulars of her cousin's, and my friend's, 
 death. I sent it written after the horrid event, but she was ill ; 
 and Trevor, who was very bitter against me, returned the letters 
 unopened. For four years, I have never travelled without these 
 rejected letters ; this year I have them not. But you could convey 
 to Lady Madeleine my story as now given to you — to you at this 
 terrible moment." 
 
 " Speak on ! " 
 
 " I must say one word of my connection with the family, to 
 enable you fully to understand the horrid event, of which, if, as I 
 believe, you only know what all know, you can form but a most 
 imperfect conception. When I was Minister at the Court of 
 London, I became acquainted — became, indeed, intimate — with Mr. 
 Trevor, then in ofl&ce, the husband of Lady Madeleine. She was 
 just married. Of myself, at that time, I may say that, though 
 depraved, I was not heartless ; and that there were moments 
 when I panted to be excellent. Lady Madeleine and myself be- 
 came friends; she found in me a companion, who not only 
 respected her talents and delighted in her conversation, but one 
 who in return was capable of instructing, and was overjoyed to 
 amuse her. I loved her ; but when I loved her, I ceased to be a 
 libertine. At first I thought that nothing in the world could 
 have tempted me to have allowed her for an instant to imagine 
 that I dared to look upon her iu any other light than as a friend ; 
 but the negligence, the coldness of Trevor, the overpoweiing 
 mastery of my own passions, drove me one day past the line, and 
 I wrote that which I dared not utter. It never entered into my 
 mind for an instant to insult such a woman with the common- 
 place sophistry of a ribald. No ! I loved her with all my spirit's 
 strength. I would have sacrificed all my views in life, my am- 
 bition, my family, my fortune, my country, to have gained her; 
 and I told her this in terms of respectful adoration. I worsliipped 
 the divinity, even while I attempted to profane the altar. When 
 I had sent this letter, I was in despair. Conviction of the 
 insanity of my conduct flashed across my mind. I expected never 
 to see her again. There came an answer ; I opened it with the 
 
224 VIVIAN GKEY. 
 
 greatest agitation ; to my surprise, an appointment. Why trouble 
 you with a detail of my feelings, my mad hope, my dark despair ! 
 The moment for the interview arrived. I was received neither 
 with affection nor anger. In sorrow she spoke. I listened in 
 despair. I was more madly in love with her than ever. That 
 very love made me give her such evidences of a contrite spirit, 
 that I was pardoned. I rose with a resolution to be virtuous, 
 with a determination to be her friend; then I made the fatal 
 promise which you know of, to be doubly the friend of a man 
 whose friend I already was ; it was then that I pledged myself to 
 Lady Madeleine to be the guardian spirit of her cousin." Here 
 the Baron, overpowered by his emotions, leant back in his chair 
 and ceased to speak. In a few minutes he resumed. 
 
 " I did my duty ; by all that's sacred, I did my duty ! night and 
 day, I was with young Fane. A hundred times he was on the 
 brink of ruin — a hundred times I saved him. One day — one 
 never-to-be-forgotten day — one most dark and damnable day, I 
 called on him, and found him on the point of joining a coterie of 
 desperate character. I remonstrated with him ; — I entreated ; — 
 I supplicated him not to go, in vain. At last he agreed to forego 
 his engagement, on condition that I dined with him. There were 
 important reasons that day for my not staying with him ; yet 
 every consideration vanished, when I thought of her for whom I 
 was exerting myself. He was frantic this day; and, imagining 
 that there was no chance of his leaving his home, I did not refuse 
 to drink freely, to drink deeply ! My doing so was the only way 
 to keep him at home. As we were passing down Pall Mall, we 
 met two foreigners of distinction, and a noble of your country ; 
 they were men of whom we both knew little. I had myself 
 introduced Fane to the foreigners a few days before, being aware 
 that they were men of high rank. After some conversation, they 
 asked us to join them at supper, at the house of their English 
 friend. I declined; but nothing could induce Fane to refuse 
 them ; and I finally accompanied him. Play was introduced after 
 supper ; I made an ineffectual struggle to get Fane home ; but I 
 was too full of wine to be energetic. After losing a small sum, 
 I got up from the table, and .staggering to a sofa, fell fast aslcej). 
 Even as I passed Fane's chair in this condition, my master-thought 
 was evident, and I pulled him by the shoulder ; all was useless ; I 
 woke to madness ! " It was terrible to witness the anguish of Von 
 Konigstein. 
 
 " Could you not clear yourself ? " asked Vivian, for he felt it 
 necessary to speak. 
 
 " Clear myself! Evcrytliing told against me. The villains were 
 my friends, not the sufferer's ; I was not injured ; my dining with 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 2 "2 5 
 
 him was part of the conspiracy ; he -was intoxicated previous to 
 his ruin. Conscious of my innocence, quite desperate, but con- 
 fiding in my character, I accused the guilty trio ; they recrimi- 
 nated, and answered ; and without clearing themselves, convinced 
 the public that I was their dissatisfied and disappointed tool. I 
 can speak no more." 
 
 It is awful to witness sudden death ; but, oh ! how much more 
 awful it is to witness in a moment the moral fall of a fellow- 
 creature ! How tremendous is the quick succession of mastering 
 passions! The firm, the terrifically firm, the madly resolute 
 denial of guilt ; that eagerness of protestation, which is a sura 
 sign of crime ; then the agonising suspense before the threatened 
 proof is produced, the hell of detection ; the audible anguish of 
 sorrow, the curses of remorse, the silence of despair ! Few of us 
 unfortunately, have passed through life without having beheld some 
 instance of this instantaneous degi'adatiou of human nature. But 
 oh ! how terrible is it when the .confessed criminal has been but a 
 moment before our friend ! What a contrast to the laugh of joyous 
 companionship is the quivering tear of an agonised frame ! how 
 terrible to be prayed to by those whose wishes a moment before 
 we lived only to anticipate ! 
 
 "Von Konigstein," said Vivian, after a long silence, "I feel 
 for you. Had I known this, I would have spared both you and 
 myself this night of misery. I would have prevented you from 
 looking back to this day with remorse. You have suff'ered for 
 that of which you were not guilty ; you shall not suffer now for 
 what has passed. Much would I give to see you freed from that 
 wretched knave, whose vile career I was very nearly tempted this 
 evening to have terminated for ever. I shall make the communi- 
 cation you desire, and I will endeavour that it shall be credited. 
 As to the transactions of this evening, the knowledge of thera can 
 never transpire to the world. It is the interest of De Bceffleurs to 
 be silent : if he speak, no one will credit the tale of such a 
 creature, who, if he speak truth, must proclaim his own infamy. 
 And now for the immediate calls upon your honour ; — in what sum 
 are you indebted to Prince Salvinski and his friend?" 
 
 " Thousands ! — two — three thousand ? " 
 
 " I shall then have an opportunity of ridding myself of that, the 
 acquisition of which, to me, has been matter of great sorrow. 
 Your honour is saved ; — I will discharge the claims of Salvinslu 
 and bis friend." 
 
 " Impossible ! I cannot allow " 
 
 " Stop, in this business I must command. Surely there can he 
 no feelings of delicacy between us two now. If I gave you the 
 treasures of the Indies you would not be under so great an obli- 
 
326 \1VIAN GEET. 
 
 gation to me as you are already : — I say tliis with pain. I recom- 
 mend you to leave Ems to-morrow. Public business will easily 
 account for your sudden departure. And now, your character is 
 yet safe ; — you are yet in the prime of life ; — you have vindicated 
 yourself from that which has preyed upon your mind for years. 
 Cease to accuse your fate ! " Vivian was about to leave the room, 
 w^hen the Baron started from his seat, and seized his hand ; he 
 would have spoken, but the words died upon his lips ; and before 
 he could recover himself, Vivian had retired. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The sudden departure of Baron von Konigstein from the Baths 
 excited great surprise and sorrow. All wondered at the cause, 
 and all regretted the effect. The Grand-Duke missed his good 
 stories, the Rouge-et-Noir table his constant presence; and Mon- 
 sieur le Restamvateur gave up, in consequence, an embryo idea of 
 a fete and fire-works for his own benefit ; which agreeable plan he 
 had trusted that, with his Excellency's generous co-operation as pa- 
 tron, he should have had no difficulty in carrying into execution. 
 But no one was more surprised, and more regretted the absence of 
 his Excellency, than his friend Mr. Fitzloom. What could be the 
 reason? — Public business of course. Indeed he had learnt as 
 much, confidentially, from Cracowsky. He tried Mr. Grey, but 
 could elicit nothing satisfactory; he pumped Mr. St. George, but 
 produced only the waters of oblivion : Mr. St. George was gifted, 
 when it suited his purpose, with a most convenient want of me- 
 mory. There must be something in the wind — perhaps a war. 
 Was the independence of Greece about to be acknowledged, or 
 the dependence of Spain about to be terminated ? What first-rate 
 power had marched a million of soldiers into the land of a weak 
 neighbour, on the mere pretence of exercising the military ? What 
 patriots had had the proud satisfaction of establishing a consti- 
 tutional government without bloodshed — to be set aside in the 
 course of the next month in the same manner ? Had a conspiracy 
 for establishing a republic in Russia been frustrated by the timely 
 information of the intended first Consuls ? Were the Janissaries 
 learning mathematics? — or had Lord Cochrane taken Constan- 
 tinople in the James Watt stcampacket? One of these many 
 events must have happened, but which ? At length Fitzloom de- 
 cided on a general war. England must interfere either to defeat 
 the ambition of France, or to curb the rapacity of Russia, or to 
 check the arrogance of Austria, or to regenerate Spain, or to 
 redeem Greece, or to protect Portugal, or to shield the Brazils, 
 
VIVIAN GEEY. 927 
 
 or to uphold the Bible Societies, or to consolidate the Greek 
 Church, or to monopolise the commerce of Mexico, or to dis- 
 seminate the principles of free trade, or to keep up her high 
 character, or to keep up the price of corn. England must in- 
 terfere. In spite of his conviction, however, Fitzloom did not 
 alter the arrangements of his tour ; he still intended to travel for 
 two years. All he did was to send immediate orders to his broker 
 in England to sell two millions of consols. The sale was of course 
 effected, the example followed, stocks fell ten per cent., the ex- 
 change turned, money became scarce. The public funds of all 
 Europe experienced a great decline, smash went the country banks, 
 consequent runs on the London, a dozen Baronets failed in one 
 morning, Portland Place deserted, the cause of infant Liberty at 
 a terrific discount, the Greek loan disappeared like a vapour in a 
 storm, all the new American States refused to pay their dividends, 
 manufactories deserted, the revenue in a decline, the country in 
 despair, orders in councO, meetings of parliament, change of 
 ministry, and new loan ! Such were the terrific consequences of 
 a diplomatist turning black-leg ! The secret history of the late 
 distress is a lesson to all modern statesmen. Rest assui'ed, that in 
 politics, however tremendous the effects, the causes are often as 
 trifling. 
 
 Vivian found liis reception by the Trevor party, the morning 
 after the memorable night, a sufficient reward for all his anxiety 
 and exertion. St. George, a generous, open-hearted young man, 
 full of gratitude to Vivian, and regretting his previous want of 
 cordiality towards him, now delighted in doing full justice to his 
 coolness, courage, and ability. Lady Madeleine said a great deal 
 in the most graceful and impressive manner; but Miss Fane 
 scarcely spoke. Vivian, however, read in her eyes her approbation 
 and her gratitude. 
 
 " And now, how came you to discover the whole plot, Mr. Grey ? " 
 asked Lady Madeleine, " for we have not yet heard. Was it at 
 the table?" 
 
 " They would hardly have had recourse to such clumsy instru- 
 ments, as would have given us the chance of detecting the con- 
 spiracy by casual observation. No, no, we owe our preservation 
 and our gratitude to one, whom we must hereafter count among 
 our friends. I was prepared, as I told you, for everything ; and 
 though I had seen similar cards to those with which they played 
 only a few hours before, it was with difficulty that I satisfied myself 
 at the table, that the cards we lost by were prepared ; so wonderful 
 is the contrivance ! " 
 
 " But who is the uuknown friend?" said Miss Fane, with great 
 eagerness. 
 
328 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 " I must have the pleasure of keeping- you all in suspense," said 
 Vivian : " cannot any of you guess ? " 
 
 " None — none — none — ! " 
 
 " What say you then to Essper George ? " 
 
 « Is it possihle ? " 
 
 " It is the fact, that he, and he alone, is our preserver. Soon 
 after my arrival at this place, this singular being was seized with 
 the unaccountable fancy of becoming my servant. You all re- 
 member his unexpected appearance one day in the saloon. In the 
 evening of the same day, I found him sleeping at the door of my 
 room ; and thinking it high time that he should be taught more 
 discretion, I spoke to him very seriously the next morning respect- 
 ing his troublesome and eccentric conduct. It was then that I 
 learnt his wish. I objected, of course, to engaging a servant of 
 whose previous character I was ignorant, and of which I could not 
 be informed; and one whose peculiar habits would render botli 
 himself and his master notorious. While I declined his services, 
 I also advised him most warmly to give up all idea of deserting 
 his present mode of life, for which I thought him extremely well 
 suited. The consequence of my lecture was, what you all per- 
 ceived with surprise, a great change in Essper's character. He 
 became serious, reserved, and retiring ; and commenced his career 
 as a respectable character, by throwing oiF his quaint costume. In 
 a short time, by dint of making a few bad bargains, he ingratiated 
 himself with Ernstorff, Von Konigstein's pompous chasseur. His 
 object in forming this connection was to gain an opportunity of 
 becoming acquainted with the duties of a gentleman's servant, and 
 in this he has succeeded. About a week since, he purchased from 
 Ernstorff a large quantity of cast-oft" apparel of the Baron's, and 
 other perquisites of a great man's valet ; among these were some 
 playing cards which had been borrowed one evening in great haste 
 from the servant of that rascal De Boeffleurs, and never returned. 
 On accidentally examining these cards, Essper detected they were 
 marked. The system on which the marks are formed and under- 
 stood is so simjile and novel, that it was long before I could bring 
 myself to believe that his suspicions were founded even on a pro- 
 bability. At length, however, he convinced me. It is at Vienna, 
 he tells me, that he has met with these cards before. The marks 
 are all on the rim of the cards ; and an experienced dealer, that is 
 to say a black-leg, can with these marks produce any results and 
 combinations which may suit his purpose. Essper tells me that 
 De Boeffleurs is even more skilled in sleight-of-hand than himself. 
 From Ernstorff, Essper learnt on the (lay of the fete that Mr. St. 
 George was to dine with the Chevalier at the Baron's apartments 
 on the morrow, and that there was a chance that I should join 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 229 
 
 tliem. He suspected that villany was in the wind, and when I re- 
 tired to my room at a late hour on the night of the fete, I there 
 met him, and it was then that he revealed to me everything which 
 I have told you. Am I not right, then, in calling him our pre- 
 server ? " 
 
 " What can be done for him ? " said Lady Madeleine. 
 
 " His only wish is already granted ; he is my servant. That ho 
 will serve me diligently and faithfully I have no doubt. I only 
 wish that he would accept or could appreciate a more worthy 
 reward." 
 
 " Can man be more amply rewarded," said Miss Fane, "than by 
 choosing his own remuneration ? I think he has shown in his re- 
 quest his accustomed talent. I must go and see him this moment." 
 
 " Say nothing of what has passed, he is prepared for silence 
 from all parties." 
 
 A week, a happy week passed over, and few minutes of the day 
 found Vivian absent from the side of Violet Fane ; and now he 
 thought again of England, of his return to that country under 
 very different circumstances to what he had ever contemplated. 
 Soon, very soon, he trusted to write to his fiither, to announce to 
 him the revolution in his wishes, the consummation of his hopes. 
 Soon, very soon, he trusted that he should hail his native clilFs, a 
 reclaimed wanderer, with a matured mind and a contented spirit; 
 his sorrows forgotten, his misanthropy laid aside. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 It was about a week after the departure of the Baron, that two 
 young Englishmen, who had been College friends of Mr. St. 
 George, arrived at the Baths. These were Mr. Anthony St. 
 Leger and Mr. Adolphus St. John. In the academic shades of 
 Christchurch, these three gentlemen had been known as "All 
 Saints." Among their youthful companions they bore the more 
 martial style of the "The Three Champions," St. George, St. 
 John, and St. Anthony. 
 
 St. John and St. Anthony had just completed the grand tour ; 
 and after passing the Easter at Rome, had returned through the 
 Tyrol from Italy. Since then, they had travelled over most parts 
 of Germany ; and now, in the beginning of July, found themselves 
 at the Baths of Ems. Two years' travel had not produced any 
 very beneficial effect on either of these sainted personages. They 
 had gained, by visiting the capitals of all Europe, only a due 
 acquaintance with the follies of each ; and the only difference that 
 could be observed in their conduct on their return was, that 
 
230 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 their affectation was rather more fantastical, and therefore more 
 amusing. 
 
 " Corpo di Bacco, my champion ! who ever thought of meeting 
 thee, thou holy saint! By the eye-brow of Venus, my spirit 
 rejoiceth!" exclaimed St. Anthony, whose peculiar affectation 
 was an adoption in Eiiglish of the Italian oaths. 
 
 "This is the sweetest spot, St. Anthony, that we have found 
 since we left Paradiso ; that is, St. George, in the vulgar, since we 
 quitted Italia. ' Italia ! O Italia ! ' — I forget the rest, probably you 
 remember it. Certainly, a most sweet spot this, quite a Gaspar 1" 
 
 Art was the peculiar affectation of St. John ; he was, indeed, 
 quite a patron of the Belle Arti — had scattered his orders through 
 the studios of most of the celebrated sculptors of Italy, and spoke 
 on all subjects and all things, only with a view to their capability 
 of forming material for the painter. According to the school of 
 which Mr. St. John was a disciple, the only use of the human 
 passions is, that they produce situations for the liistorical painter ; 
 and nature, according to these votaries of the to koXov, is only 
 to be valued as affording hints for the more pei-fect conceptions of 
 a Claude or a Salvator. 
 
 "By the girdle of Venus, a devilish fine woman!" exclaimed 
 St. Anthony. 
 
 " A splendid bit ! " ejaculated St. John ; " touched in with free- 
 dom — a grand tournure — great gout in the swell of the neck. 
 What a study for Retsch ! " 
 
 "In the name of the Graces, who is it, mio Santo ?" 
 
 " Ay! name la bellissima Signora." 
 
 " The ' fine bit,' St. John, is my sister." 
 
 "The devil!" 
 
 " Diavolo ! " 
 
 " Will you introduce us, most holy man ? " 
 
 This request from both, simultaneously arranging their mus- 
 tachios. 
 
 The two Saints were, accordingly, in due time, introduced ; but 
 finding the attention of Miss Fane always engrossed, and receiving 
 some not very encouraging responses from Lady Madeleine, they 
 voted her ladyship cursedly satirical ; and passing a general cen- 
 sure on the annoying coldness of English women, they were in 
 four-and-twenty hours attached to the suite of tlie Miss Fitzlooms, 
 to whom they were introduced by St. George as his particular 
 friends, and were received with the most flattering consideration. 
 
 "By the aspect of Diana! fine girls," swore St. Anthony. 
 
 " Truly most gorgeous colouring ! quite Venetian ! Aurelia is a 
 perfect Giorgione! " said St. John. 
 
 " Madeleine," said St. George, one morning, to his sister, " have 
 
VIVIAX GEEY. 231 
 
 you any objection to make up a party ■with the Fitzlooms to pass 
 a day at Nassau ? You know we have often talked of it ; and 
 as Violet is so well now, and the weather so delightful, there 
 surely can be no objection. The Fitzlooms are very agreeable 
 people ; and though you do not admire the Santi, still, upon my 
 word, when you know them a little more, you will find them very 
 pleasant fellows, and they are extremely good-natured ; and just 
 the fellows for such a party. Do not refuse me. I have set my 
 mind upon your joining the party. Pray nod assent — thank you. 
 Now I must go and arrange everything. Let us see — there are 
 seven Fitzlooms ; for we cannot count on less than two boys ; 
 yourself. Grey, Violet, and myself, four ; the Santi — quite enougli 
 — a most delightful party. Half a dozen servants, and as many 
 donkeys, will manage the provisions. Then three light carriages 
 will take us all. ' By the wand of Mercury ! ' as St. Anthony 
 would vow, admirably planned ! " 
 
 " By the breath of Zephyr ! a most lovely day, Miss Faue," said 
 St. Anthony, on the morning of the intended excursion." 
 
 " Quite a Claude !" said St. John. 
 
 "Almost as beautiful as an Italian winter day, IMr. St. Leger?" 
 asked Miss Fane. 
 
 " Hardly ! " said St. Anthony, with a serious air ; for he imagined 
 the question to be quite genuine. 
 
 The carriages are at the door; into the first ascended Mrs. 
 Fitzloom, two daughters, and the travelling Saints. The second 
 bore Lady Madeleine, Mr. Fitzloom, and his two sous ; the third 
 division was formed of Mr. St. George and Aurelia Fitzloom, 
 Miss Fane, and Vi\ian. 
 
 Away, away, rolled the carriages ; the day was beautiful, the 
 sky was without a cloud, and a mild breeze prevented the heat of 
 the sun from being overpowering. All were in high spirits ; for 
 St. George had made a capital master of the ceremonies, and had 
 arranged the company in the carriages to their mutual satisfaction. 
 St. Anthony swore, by the soul of Psyche ! that Augusta Fitzloom 
 was an augel ; and St. John was in equal raptures Math Araminta, 
 who had an expression about the eyes, which reminded him of 
 Titian's Flora. Mrs. Fitzloom's natural silence did not disturb 
 the uniuteiTupted jargon of the Santi, whose foppery elicited loud 
 and continued approbation from the fair sisters. The mother 
 sat admiring these sprigs of noble trees. The young Fitzlooms, 
 in crimson cravats, conversed with Lady Madeleine with a delight- 
 ful military air ; and their happy parent, as he gazed upon them 
 with satisfied afi'ection, internally promised them both a com- 
 mission in a crack regiment. 
 
 The road from Ems to Nassau winds along the banks of the 
 
232 VIVIAN GKEY. 
 
 Lahn, through two leagues of delightful scenery ; at the end of 
 which, springing uj) from the peak of a bold and richly-wooded 
 mountain, the lofty tower of the ancient castle of Nassau meets 
 your view. Winding walks round the sides of the mountain lead 
 through all the varieties of sylvan scenery, and command in all 
 points magnificent views of the surrounding country. These 
 finally bring you to the old castle, whose spacious chambers, 
 though now choked up with masses of grey ruin, or covered with 
 underwood, still bear witness to the might of their former lord ! — 
 the powerful Baron whose sword gained for his posterity a throne. 
 
 All seemed happy; none happier than Violet Fane. Never did 
 she look so beautiful as to-day — never was she so animated — never 
 had slie boasted that her pulse beat more melodious music, or her 
 lively blood danced a more healthful measure. After examining 
 all the antique chambers of the castle, and discovering, as they 
 flattered themselves, secret passages, and dark dungeons, and 
 hidden doors, they left this interesting relic of tlie middle ages ; 
 and soon, by a gradual descent through delightful shrubberies, 
 they again found themselves at the bottom of the valley. Here 
 they visited the modern Chateau of Baron von Stein, one of tlie 
 most enlightened and able politicians that Germany has ever pro- 
 duced. As Minister of Prussia, he commenced those reforms 
 which the illustrious Hardeuberg perfected. For upwards of five 
 centuries the family of Stein have retained their territorial pos- 
 sessions in the valley of tlie Lahn. Their family castle, at present 
 a ruin, and formerly a fief of the house of Nassau, is now only a 
 picturesque object in the pleasure-grounds of the present lord. 
 
 The noon had passed some hours before the delighted wanderers 
 complained of fatigue, and by that time they found themselves in 
 a pleasant green glade, on the skirts of the forest of Nassau. It 
 ■was nearly environed by mountains, covered with hanging woods, 
 which shaded the beautiful valley, and gave it the appearance of a 
 sylvan amphitheatre. From a rocky cleft in these green moun- 
 tains, a torrent, dashing down with impetuous force, and whose 
 fall was almost concealed by the cloud of spray which it excited, 
 gave birth to a small and gentle river, whose banks were fringed 
 with beautiful trees, which prevented the sun's darts from piercing 
 its coldness, by bowing their fair heads over its waters. From 
 their extending branches, Nature's choristers sent forth many a 
 lovely lay. 
 
 " Of God's high praise, and of their loves' sweet teen." 
 
 Near the banks of this river, the servants, under the active 
 direction of Essper George, had prepared a banquet for the party. 
 The cloth had been laid on a raised work of wood and turf; and 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 233 
 
 rustic seats, of the same material, surrounded the picturesque 
 tahle. It glowed with materials, and with colours to which Ve- 
 ronese alone could have done justice : pasties, and birds, and 
 venison, and groups of fish, gleamy with prismatic hues, while, 
 amid pyramids of fruit, rose goblets of fantastic glass, worthy of 
 the famous wines they were to receive. 
 
 " Well ! " said Miss Fane, " I never will be a member of an 
 adventurous party like the present, of which Albert is not 
 manager." 
 
 "I must not take the whole credit upon myself, Violet; St. 
 John is butler, and St. Leger my vice-chamberlain." 
 
 "Well, I cannot praise Mr. St. John till I have tasted the 
 malvoisie which he has promised ; but as for the other part of the 
 entertainment, Mr. St. Leger, I am sure this is a temptation 
 which it would be a sin, even in St. Anthony, to withstand." 
 
 " By the body of Bacchus, very good ! " swore Mr. St. Leger. 
 
 "These mountains," said Mr. St. John, "remind me of one of 
 Caspar's cool valleys. The party, indeed, give it a different 
 character — quite a Watteau ! " 
 
 "Now, Mrs. Fitzloom," said St. George, who was in his 
 element, " let me recommend a little of this pike ! Lady Made- 
 leine, I have sent you some lamb. Miss Fitzloom, I hope St. 
 Anthony is taking care of you. Wrightson, plates to Mr. St. 
 Leger. Holy man, and much beloved ! send Araminta some 
 chicken. Grey has helped you, Violet ? Aurelia, this is for you. 
 William Pitt Fitzloom, I leave you to yourself, George Canning 
 Fitzloom, take care of the ladies near you. Essper George ! — 
 Where is Essper ? St. John, who is your deputy in the wine 
 department ? — Wi-ightson ! bring those long green bottles out of 
 the river, and put the champagne underneath the willow. Will 
 your Ladyship take some light claret ? Mrs. Fitzloom, you must 
 use your tumbler — nothing but tumblers allowed, by Miss Fane's 
 particular request ! " 
 
 " St. George, thou holy man ! " said Miss Fane, " methinks you 
 are very impertinent. You shall not be my patron saint if you say 
 such words." 
 
 For the ne.xt hour there was nothing heard save the calling of 
 servants, the rattling of knives and forks, the drawing of corks, 
 and continued bursts of laughter, which were not occasioned by 
 any brilliant observations, either of the Saints, or any other per- 
 sons, but merely the result of an exuberance of spirits on the part 
 of every one present. 
 
 " Well, Aurelia," said Lady Madeleine, " do you prefer our 
 present mode of life to feasting in an old hall, covered with ban- 
 
234 VIVIAN GRET. 
 
 ners aud battered shields, and surrounded by mysterious corridors 
 and dark dung'eons ? " Aurelia was so flattered by the notice of 
 Lady Madeleine, that she made her no answer ; probably because 
 she was intent on a plover's egg. 
 
 " I think we might all retire to this valley," said Miss Fane, 
 " and revive the feudal times with great success. Albert might 
 take us to Nassau Castle, and you, Mr. Fitzloom, might refor- 
 tify the old tower of Stein. With two sons, however, who are 
 about to enter the Guards, I am afraid we must be your vassals. 
 Then what should we do ? We could not have wood parties every 
 day; I suppose we should get tired of each other. No! that 
 does seem imposssible ; do not you all think so ? " 
 
 Omnes, " Impossible ! " 
 
 " We must, however, have some regular pursuit, some cause of 
 constant excitement, some perpetual source of new emotions. 
 New ideas, of course, we must give up ; there would be no going 
 to London for the season, for new opinions to astound country 
 cousins on our return. Some pursuit must be invented ; we all 
 must have something to do. I have it! Albert shall be a 
 tyrant." 
 
 " I am very much obliged to you, Violet." 
 
 "Yes! a cruel, unprincipled, vindictive, remorseless tyrant, 
 with a long black beard, I cannot tell how long, about twenty 
 thousand times longer than Mr. St. Leger's mustachios." 
 
 " By the beard of Jove ! " swore St. Anthony, as he almost 
 started from his seat, and arranged with his thumb and forefinger 
 the delicate Albanian tuft of his upper lip — " by the beard of 
 Jove, Miss Fane, I am obliged to you." 
 
 " Well then," continued Violet, " Albert, being a tyrant. Lady 
 Madeleine must be an unhappy, ill-used, persecuted woman, living 
 on black bread and green water, in an unknown dungeon. My 
 part shall be to discover her imprisonment. Sounds of strange 
 music attract my attention to a part of the castle which I have 
 not before frequented. There I shall distinctly hear a female 
 voice chaunting the 'Bridesmaids' Chorus,' with Erard's double 
 pedal accompaniment. By the aid of the Confessors of the two 
 families — two drinking, rattling, impertinent, most corrupt, and 
 most amusing friars, to wit — our sainted friends " 
 
 Here both Mr. St. Leger and Mr. St. John bowed low to Miss 
 Fane. 
 
 " A most lively personage is Miss Fane," whispered St. Anthony 
 to his neighbour, Miss Fitzloom ; " great style ! " 
 
 " Most amusing, delightful girl — great style — rather a display 
 to-day, I think." 
 
YIVIAX GKEY. 286 
 
 "Ob, decidedly! and devilish personal too; some people 
 ■wouldn't like it. I have no doubt she will say something about 
 you next." 
 
 " Oh, I shall be very surprised, indeed, if she does ! It may be 
 very weU to you, but MLss Fane must be aware " 
 
 Before this pompous sentence could be finishel an incident 
 occurred which prevented Miss Fane from proceeding with her 
 allotment of characters, and rendered unnecessary the threatened 
 indignation of Miss Fitzloom. 
 
 Miss Fane, as we mentioned, suddenly ceased speaking ; the 
 eyes of all were turned in the direction in wliich she was gazing — 
 gazing as if she had seen a ghost. 
 
 " What are you looking up at, Violet?" asked St. George. 
 
 " Did not you see anything ? did not any of you see anything ?" 
 
 " None — none ! " 
 
 " Mr. Grey, surely you must have seen it ! " 
 
 " I saw nothing." 
 
 " It could not be fancy — impossible ! I saw it distinctly. I can- 
 not be in a dream. See there ! again, on that topmost branch. 
 It moves ! " 
 
 Some odd shrill sounds, uttered in the voice of a Pulcinello, 
 attracted the notice of them all, and lo ! high in the air, behind a 
 lofty chestnut-tree, the figiu-e of a Pulcinello did appear, hopping 
 and vaulting in the unsubstantial air. Now it sent forth another 
 shrill, piercing sound, and now, with both its hands, it patted and 
 complacently stroked its ample paunch ; dancing all the time with 
 unremitting activity, and wagging its queer head at the astounded 
 guests. 
 
 "Who, what can it be?" cried aU. The Misses Fitzloom 
 shrieked, and the Santi seemed quite puzzled, 
 
 "Who, what can it be?" 
 
 Ere time could be given for any one to hazard a conjecture, the 
 figure had advanced from behind the trees, and had spanned in an 
 instant the festal board, with two enormous stilts, on which 
 they now perceived it was mounted. The Misses Fitzloom 
 shrieked again. The figure imitated their cries in his queer 
 voice, and gradually raising one enormous stilt up into the air, 
 stood only on one support, which was planted behind the lovely 
 Araminta. 
 
 " O, inimitable Essper George!" exclaimed Violet Fane. 
 
 Here Signor Punch commenced a song, which he executed in 
 the tone peculiar to his character, and in a style which drew ap- 
 plauses from all; and then, with a hop, step, and a jump, he was 
 again behind the chestnut-tree. In a moment he advanced without 
 his stilts towards the table. Here, on the turf, he again com- 
 
236 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 menced his antics ; kicking his nose with his right foot, and his 
 hump with his left one ; executing splendid somersets, and cutting 
 every species of caper, and never ceasing for a moment from per- 
 forming- all his movements to the inspiring music of his own me- 
 lodious voice. At last, jumping up very high in the air, he fell as 
 if all his joints were loosened, and the Misses Fitzloom, imagining 
 that his bones were really broken, shrieked again. But now 
 Essper began the wonderful performance of a dead body possessed 
 by a devil, and in a minute his shattered corpse, apparently with- 
 out the assistance of any of its members, began to jump and move 
 about the ground with miraculous rapidity. At length it disap- 
 peared behind the chestnut-tree. 
 
 " I really think," said Mr. St. George, " it is the most agreeable 
 day I ever passed in all my life." 
 
 "Decidedly!" said St. Anthony. "St. John, you remember 
 our party to Psestum with Lady Calabria M'Crater and the jNIar- 
 quis of Agrigentum. It was nothing to this ! Nothing! Do you 
 know I thought that rather dull." 
 
 " Yes, too elaborate ; too highly iinished ; nothing of the pittore 
 improvisatore. A party of this kind should be more sketchy in its 
 style ; the outline more free, and less detail." 
 
 " Essper is coming out to-day," said Vivian to ^liss Fane, " after 
 a long, and, I venture to say, painful forbearance. However, I 
 hope you will excuse him. It seems to amuse us." 
 
 " I think it is delightful. See ! here he comes again." 
 
 He now appeared in his original costume; the one in which 
 Vivian first met him at the fair. Bowing, he threw his hand care- 
 lessly over his mandolin, and having tried the melody of its strings, 
 sang vt'ith great taste, and a sweet voice — sweeter from its con- 
 trast with its previous shrill tones — a very pretty romance. All 
 applauded him very warmly, and no one more so than Miss Fane. 
 
 " Ah ! inimitable Essper George, how can we sufficiently thank 
 you! How well he plays! and his voice is quite beautiful. Oh! 
 could we not dance ? would not it be delightful ? and he could play 
 on his guitar. Think of the delicious turf!" 
 
 Omnes — " Delightful ! delightful 1 " They rose from the table. 
 
 " Violet, my dear," asked Lady Madeleine, " what are you going 
 to do?" 
 
 "By the toe of Terpsichore! as Mv. St. Leger would say, I am 
 going to dance." 
 
 " But remember, to-day you have done so much ! let us be mo- 
 derate ; though you feel so much better, still think what a change 
 to-day has been from your usual habits ! " 
 
 " But, dearest Lady Madeleine, think of dancing on the turf, 
 and I feel so well ! 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 237 
 
 " By the Graces ! I am for the waltz," said St. Anthony. 
 
 " It has certainly a very free touch to recommeuJ it," said St. 
 John. 
 
 "No, no," said Violet; "let lis all join in a country dance." 
 But the Misses Fitzloom preferred a quadrille. 
 
 The quadrille was soon formed : Violet made up for not dancing 
 with Vivian at the Grand-Duke's. She was most animated, and kept 
 up a successful rivalry with Mr. St. Leger, who evidently prided 
 himself, as Mr. Fitzloom ohserved, "on his light fantastic toe." 
 Now he pirouetted like Paul, and now he attitudinized like Albert ; 
 and now Miss Fane eclipsed all his exertions by her inimitable 
 imitations of Ronzi Vestris' rushing and arrowy manner. St. 
 Anthony, in despair, but quite delighted, revealed a secret which 
 had been taught him by a Spanish dancer at Milan ; but then Miss 
 Fane vanquished him for ever v/ith the ^;as de Zephyr of the ex- 
 quisite Fanny Bias. 
 
 The day was fast declining when the carriages arrived; the 
 young people were in no humour to return ; and as, when they had 
 once entered the carriage; the day seemed finished for ever, they 
 proposed walking part of the way home. Lady Madeleine made 
 little objection to Violet joining the party, as after the exertion, 
 that Miss Fane had been making, a drive in an open carriage might 
 be dangerous ; and yet the walk was too long, but all agreed that 
 it would be impossible to shorten it; and, as Violet declared that 
 she was not in the least fatigued, the lesser evil was therefore 
 chosen. The carriages rolled off; at about half way from Ems, 
 the two empty ones were to wait for the walking party. Lady 
 Madeleine smiled with fond aflection, as she waved her hand to 
 Violet the moment before she was out of sight. 
 
 " And now," said St. George, " good people all, instead of re- 
 turning by the same road, it strikes me, that there must be a way 
 through this little wood, you see there is an excellent path. Be- 
 fore the sun is set, we shall have got through it, and it will bring 
 us out, I have no doubt, by the old cottage which you observed, 
 Grey, when we came along. I saw a gate and path there ; just 
 where we first got sight of Nassau Castle ; there can be no doubt 
 about it. You see it is a regular right-angle, and besides varying 
 the walk, we shall at least gain a quarter of an hour, which, after 
 all, as we have to walk nearly three miles, is an object. It is quite 
 clear ; if I have a head for anything, it is for finding my way." 
 
 " I think you have a head for everything," said Aurelia Fitzloom, 
 in a soft sentimental whisper ; " I am sure we o^ all our happines 
 to-day to you ! " 
 
 " If I have a head for everything, I have a heart only for one 
 person ! " 
 
238 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 As every one wished to be convinced, no one offered any argu- 
 ment in opposition to Mr. St. George's view of the case ; and some 
 were already in the wood. 
 
 " Albert," said Miss Fane, " I do not like walking in the wood so 
 late ; pray come back." 
 
 " Oh, nonsense, Violet ! come. If you do not like to come, you 
 can walk by the road ; you will meet us round by the gate, it is 
 only five minutes' walk." Ere he had finished speaking, the rest 
 were in the wood, and some had advanced. Vivian strongly recom- 
 mended Violet not to join them ; he was sure that Lady Madeleine 
 would not approve of it ; he was sure that it was very dangerous — 
 extremely ; and, by-the-bye, while he was talking, which way had 
 they gone ? he did not see them. He halloed ; all answered, and 
 a thousand echoes besides. " We certainly had better go by the 
 road, we shall lose our way if we try to follow them ; nothing is so 
 puzzling as walking in woods, we had much better keep to the 
 road." So by the road they went. 
 
 The sun had already sunk behind the mountains, whose undu- 
 lating forms were thrown into dark shadow against the crimson 
 sky. The thin crescent of the new moon floated over the eastern 
 hUls, whose deep woods glowed with the rosy glories of twilight. 
 Over the peak of a purple mountain glittered the solitary star of 
 evening. As the sun dropped, universal silence seemed to pervade 
 the whole face of nature. The voice of the birds was stilled; the 
 breeze, which had refreshed them during the day, died away, as if 
 its office were now completed ; and none of the dark sounds and 
 sights of hideous Night yet dared to triumph over the death of Day. 
 Unseen were the circling wings of the fell bat ; unheard the screech 
 of the waking owl ; silent the drowsy hum of the shade-born beetle ! 
 What heart has not acknowledged the influence of this hour — the 
 sweet and soothing hour of twilight ! the hour of love, the hour of 
 adoration, the hour of rest! — when we think of those we love, only 
 to regret that we have not loved more dearly ; when we remember 
 our enemies only to forgive them! 
 
 And Vivian and his beautiful companion owned the magic of tliis 
 hour, as all must do, by silence. No word was spoken, yet is 
 silence sometimes a language. They gazed, and gazed again, and 
 their full spirits held due communion with the starlit sky, and the 
 mountains and the woods, and the soft sluwlows of the increasing 
 moon. Oh ! who can describe what the o'ercharged spirit foels at 
 this sacred hour, when we almost lose the consciousness of exist- 
 ence, and our soulfcBeera to struggle to pierce futurity! In the 
 forest of the mysterious Odenwald, in the solitudes of the Berg- 
 strasse, had Vivian at this hour often found consolation for a bruised 
 spirit — often in adoring nature had forgotten man. But now, 
 
VIVIAN GEEY. 239 
 
 when he had never felt nature's influence more powerful ; when 
 he had never forgotten man and man's world more thoroughly ; 
 when he was experiencing emotions, which, though undefinable, he 
 felt to be new ; he started when he remembered that all this was in 
 the presence of a human being ! "Was it Hesperus he gazed upon, 
 or something else that glanced brighter than an Evening star? 
 Even as he thought that his gaze was fixed on the countenance of 
 nature, he found that his eyes rested on the face of nature's love- 
 liest daughter ! 
 
 "Violet! dearest Violet!" 
 
 As in some delicious dream the sleeper is awakened from his 
 bliss by the sound of his own rapturous voice, so was Vivian roused 
 by these words from his reverie, and called back to the world which 
 he had forgotten. But ere a moment had passed, he was pouring 
 forth in a rapid voice, and incoherent manner, such words as men 
 speak only once. He spoke of his early follies, his misfortunes, 
 his misery ; of his matured views, his settled principles, his plans, 
 his prospects, his hopes, his happiness, his bliss : and when he had 
 ceased, he listened, in his turn, to some small still words, which 
 made him the happiest of human beings. He bent down ; he kissed 
 the soft silken cheek which now he could call his own. Her hand 
 was in his ; her head sank upon his breast. Suddenly she clung 
 to him with a strong grasp. "Violet! my own, my dearest; you 
 are overcome. I have been rash, I have been imprudent. Speak, 
 speak, my beloved ! say you are not ill ! " 
 
 She spoke not, but clung to him with a fearful strength — her 
 head still upon his breast — her full eyes closed. Alarmed, he 
 raised her off the ground, and bore her to the river side. Water 
 might revive her. But when he tried to lay her a moment on 
 the bank, she clung to him gasping, as a sinking person clings 
 to a stout swimmer. He leant over her ; he did not attempt to 
 disengage his arms ; and, by degrees, by very slow degrees, her 
 grasp loosened. At last her arms gave way and fell by her side, 
 and her eyes partly opened. 
 
 " Thank God! Violet, my own, my beloved, say you are 
 better ! " 
 
 She answered not — evidently she did not know him — evidently 
 she did not see him. A film was on her sight, and her eye was 
 glassy. He rushed to the water side, and in a moment he had 
 sprinkled her temples, now covered with a cold dew. Her pulse 
 beat not — her circulation seemed suspended. He rubbed the 
 palms of her hands — he covered her delicate feet with his coat ; 
 and then rushing up the bank into the road, he shouted with 
 frantic cries on all sides. No one came, no one was near. Again, 
 with a cry of fearful anguish, he shouted as if an hysena were feed- 
 
240 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 ing on liis vitals. No sound : — no answer. Tlie nearest cottage 
 was above a mile off. He dared not leave her. Again he rushed 
 down to the M'ater side. Her eyes were still open — still fixed. 
 Her mouth also was no longer closed. Her hand was stiff — her 
 heart had ceased to beat. He tried with the warmth of his own 
 body to revive her. He shouted — he wept — he prayed. All, all 
 in vain. Again he was in the road — again shouting like an insane 
 being. There was a sound. Hark ! — It was but the screech of 
 an owl! 
 
 Once more at the river side — once more bending over her with 
 starting eyes — once more the attentive ear listening for the 
 soundless breath. No sound! not even a sigh! Oh! what would 
 he have given for her shriek of anguish ! — No change had occurred 
 in her position, but the lower part of her face had fallen ; and 
 there was a general appearance which struck him with awe. Her 
 body was quite cold — her limbs stiffened. He gazed, and gazed, 
 and gazed. He bent over her with stupor rather than grief 
 stamped on his features. It was very slowly that the dark thought 
 came over his mind — very slowly that the horrible truth seized upon 
 his soul. He gave a loud shriek, aud fell ou the lifeless body of 
 Violet Fane ! 
 
VIVIAN GKEY. 241 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The green and bowery summer had passed away. It was mid- 
 niglit when two horsemen pulled up their steeds beneath a wide 
 oak ; which, with other lofty trees, skirted the side of a winding 
 road in an extensive forest in the south of Germany. 
 
 " By heavens !" said one, who apparently was the master — "we 
 must even lay our cloaks, I think, under this oak ; for the road 
 winds again, and assuredly cannot lead now to our village." 
 
 "A starlit sky in autumn can scarcely be the fittest curtain for 
 one so weak as you, sir ; I should recommend travelling on, if we 
 keep on our horses' backs till dawn." 
 
 " But if we are travelling in a directly contrary way to our 
 voiturier, honest as we may suppose him to be, if he find in 
 the morning no paymaster for his job, he may with justice make 
 free with our baggage. And I shall be unusually mistaken if the 
 road we are now pursuing does not lead back to the city." 
 
 " City, town, or village, you must sleep under no forest tree, sir. 
 Let us ride on. It will be hard if we do not find some huntsman's 
 or ranger's cottage : and for aught we know a neat snug village, 
 or some comfortable old manor-liouse, which has been in the family 
 for two centuries ; and where, with God's blessing, they may chance 
 to have wine as old as the bricks. I know not how you may feel, 
 sir, but a ten hours' ride when I was only prepared for half the 
 time, and that, too, in an autumn night, makes me somewhat 
 desirous of renewing my acquaintance with the kitchen-fire." 
 
 "I could join you in a glass of Hock and a slice of venison, I 
 confess, my good fellow ; but in a nocturnal ride I am no longer 
 your match. However, if you think it best, we will prick on our 
 steeds for another hour. If it be only for them, I am sure we 
 must soon stop." 
 
 " Ay ! do sir ; and put your cloak well round you — all is for the 
 best. You are not, I gues*, a Sabbath-boru child ?" 
 
 " That am I not — but how would that make our plight worse 
 than it is? Should we be farther off supper?" 
 
 " Nearer, perhaps, than you imagine ; for we should then have a 
 chance of sharing tlie spoils of the Spirit Hunter." 
 
 " All ! E<sper, is it so ?" 
 
 16 
 
24Z VIVIAN GKEY. 
 
 "Truly, yes, sir; and were either of us a Sabbatli-born cbild, 
 by holy cross ! I would not give much for our char.ce of a down 
 bed this night." 
 
 Here a great liorned owl flew across the road. 
 
 " Were I in the north," said Essper, " I would sing an Ave Mary 
 against the Stut Ozel." 
 
 "What call you that?" asked Vivian. 
 
 " 'Tis the great bird, sir ; the great horned owl, that always 
 flies before the Wild Hunter. And truly, sir, I have passed through 
 many forests in my time, but never yet saw I one where I should 
 sooner expect to hear a midnight bugle. If you will allow me, sir, 
 I will ride by your side. Thank God, at least, it is not the Wal- 
 purgis night 1" 
 
 "I wish to Heaven it were!" said Vivian, "and that we were 
 on the Brocken. It must be highly amusing." 
 
 "Hush ! hush! it is lucky we are not in the Hartz— but we 
 know not where we are, nor v/ho at this moment may be behind us." 
 
 And here Essper began pouring forth a liturgy of his own, 
 half Catholic anil half Calvinistic, f[aite in character witli the 
 creed of the country through which they were travelling. 
 
 " My horse has stumbled," continued Essper, " and yours, sir, 
 is he not shying ? There is a confounded cloud over the moon — 
 but I have no sight in the dark if that mass before you be not a 
 devii's-stone. The Lord have mercy upon our sinful souls ! " 
 
 "Peace! Essper," said Vivian, who was surprised to find him 
 really alarmed ; " I see nothing but a block of granite, no uncom- 
 mon sight in a German forest." 
 
 " It is a devil-stone, 1 tell you, sir — there has been some church 
 here, which he has knocked down in the night. Look ! is it the 
 moss-people that I see ! As sure as I am a hungry sinner, the 
 Wild One is out a hunting to-night." 
 
 "More luck for us, if we meet him. His dogs, as you say, 
 may gain us a supper. I think our wisest course will be to join 
 the cry." 
 
 " Hush ! bush ! you would not talk so if you knew what your 
 share of the spoils might be. Ay ! if you did, sir, your cheek would 
 be paler, and your very teeth would chatter. I knew one man 
 who was travelling in the forest, just as we are now, it was about 
 this time, and he believed in the Wild Huntsman about as much 
 as you — that is, he liked to talk of the Spirit, merely to liave the 
 opportunity of denying that he believed in him ; which showed, as 
 I used to say, that his mind was often thinking of it. He was a 
 merry knave, and as firm a hand for a boar-spear as ever I met 
 with, and I have met luany. Wo used to call him, before the ac- 
 cident. Left-handed Hans, but they call hiiu now, sir, the Child- 
 
VIVIAN GKEY. 243 
 
 Hunter. Oli ! it is a very awful tale, and I would sooner tell it iu 
 blazing ball than in free forest. Ycu did not bear auy sound to 
 the left, did you?" 
 
 " Nothing but the wind, Essper j on with your tale, my man." 
 " It is a very awful tale, sir, but I will make short work of it. 
 You see, sir, it was a night just like this ; the moon was generally 
 hid, but the stars prevented it from ever being pitch dark. And 
 so, sir, he was travelling alone ; be had been up to the castle of 
 the baron, bis master — you see, sir, be was heud-ranger to bis 
 lordship — and be always returned home through the forest. What 
 he was thinking of I cannot say, but most likely of no good ; when 
 all on a sudden he beard the baying of bounds in the distance. 
 Now directly be beard it — I have heard him tell the story a 
 thousand times — directly he beard it, it struck him that it must be 
 the Spirit Huntsman ; and though there were m:iny ways to 
 account for the bounds, still he never for a moment doubted that 
 they were the hell-dogs. The sounds came nearer and nearer. 
 Now I tell you this, because if ever, — which the Holy Virgin for- 
 bid ! — if ever you meet the Wild Huntsman you will know liow to 
 act : — conduct yourself always with propriety, make no noise, but 
 behave like a gentleman, and don't put the dogs off the scent ; 
 stand aside, and let him pass. Don't talk, be has no time to lose, 
 for if he hunt after daybreak, a night's sport is forfeited for every 
 star left in the morning sky. So, sir, you see nothing puts him in 
 a greater passion than to lose bis time in answering impertinent 
 questions. Well, sir. Left-handed Hans stood by the roiid-side The 
 baying of the dogs was so distinct, that be felt that in a moment 
 the Wild One would be up : bis horse shivered like a sallow iu a 
 storm. He beard the tramp of the Spirit-steed : they came iu 
 sight. As the tall figure of the Huntsman passed— T cannot tell 
 you what it was — it might have been. Lord forgive me for thinking 
 what it might have been ! but a voice from behind Hans, a voice so 
 like his own, that for a moment be fancied that he had himself 
 spoken, although he was conscious that his lips had been firmly 
 closed the whole time, a voice from the road-side, — just behind 
 poor Hans, mind, — said, ' Good sport. Sir Huntsman, 'tis an odd 
 light to track a stag!' The poor man, sir, was all of an ague; 
 but bov/ much greater was his horror when the tall huntsman 
 stopped ! He thought that he was going to be eaten up on the 
 spot, at least : not at all,—' My friend !' said the Wild One, in the 
 kindest voice imaginable ; ' my friend, would you like to give your 
 horse a breathing with us?' Poor Hans was so alarmed that it 
 never entered into bis head for a single moment to refu-e the invi- 
 tation, and instantly he was galloping by the side of the Wild 
 
244 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 Huntsman, Away they flew ! away! away! away! over bog^, and 
 over mere; over ditch, and over hedge; away! away! away! — 
 and the Ranger's horse never failed, but kept by the side of the 
 Wild Spirit without the least distress ; and yet it is very singular 
 that Hans was about to sell this very beast only a day before, for a 
 matter of five crowns : — you see, he only kept it just to pick his 
 way at night from the castle to his own cottage. Well ! it is very 
 odd, but Hans soon lost all fear, for the sport was so fine and be 
 had such a keen relish for the work, that, far from being alarmed, 
 he thought himself one of the luckiest knaves alive. But the odd- 
 est thing all this time was, that Hans never caught sight for one 
 moment of either buck or boar, although he saw by the dogs' 
 noses that there was something keen in the wind, and although he 
 felt that if the hunted beast were like any that he had himself ever 
 followed before, it must have been run down with such dogs quicker 
 than a priest could say a pater-noster. At last, for he had grown 
 quite bold, says Hans to the Wild Huntsman, ' The beasts run 
 quick o' nights, sir, I think ; it has been a long time, I ween, ere I 
 scampered so far, and saw so little ! ' Do you know that the old 
 gentleman was not the least affronted, but said, in the pleasautest 
 voice imaginable, ' A true huntsman should be patient, Hans ; you 
 will see the game quick enough ; look forward, man ! what see you ? ' 
 and sure enough, your Highness, he did look forward. It was near 
 the skirts of the forest, there was a green glade before them, and 
 very few trees, and therefore he could see far a-head. The 
 moon was shining very bright, and sure enough, what did he see ? 
 Running as fleet over the turf as a rabbit, was a child. The little 
 figure was quite black in the moonlight, and Hans could not 
 catch its face : — in a moment the hell-dogs were on it. Hans 
 quivered like a windy reed, and the Wild One laughed till the very 
 woods echoed. * How like you hunting mossmeu?' asked the 
 Spirit. Now when Hans found it was only a mossman he took 
 heart again, and said in a shaking voice, that ' It is rare good 
 sport in good company ;' and then the Spirit jumped off his horse, 
 and said, ' Now, Hans, you must watch me well, for I am little 
 used to bag game.' He said this with a proudish air, as much as 
 to hint, that had not he expected Hans, he would not have rode out 
 this evening without his groom. So the Wild One jumped on his 
 horse again, and put the bag before him. It was nearly morning 
 when Hans found himself at the door of his own cottnge ; and 
 bowing very respectfully to the Spirit Hunter, he thanked liim for 
 the sport, and begged Ids share of the night's s, oil. This was all 
 in joke, but Hans had heard that ' talk to the devil, and fear the 
 last word;' and so he was determined, now that they were about 
 
VIVIAN GRET. 245 
 
 to pnrt, not to appear to tremble, but to carry it off with a jest. 
 ' Truly, Hans,' said the Huntsmau, ' thou art a bold lad, and to en- 
 courage thee to speak to wild huntsmen again, I have a mind to 
 give thee for thy pains the whole spoil. Take the bag, knave, a 
 mossinan is good eating ; had I time I would give thee a receipt for 
 sauce ;' and so saying, the Spirit rode off, laughing very heartilJ^ 
 Well, sir, Hans was so anxious to examine the contents of the bag, 
 and see what kind of thing a mossmau really was, for he had only 
 caught a glimpse of him in the chase, that instead of going to bed 
 immediately, and saying his prayers, as he should have done, he 
 lighted a lamp and undid the string ; and what think you he took 
 out of the bag ? As sure as I am a boru sinner — his own child !" 
 
 " 'Tis a wonderful tale," said Vivian ; " and did the unfortunate 
 man tell you this himself?" 
 
 " Often and often. — I knew Left-handed Hans well. He was 
 ranger, as I said, to a great lord ; and was quite a favourite, you 
 see. For some reason or other he got out of favour. Some said 
 that the Baron had found him out a- poaching ; and that he used to 
 ride his master's horses a-night. Whether this be true or not, who 
 can say ? But, howsoever, Hans went to ruin : and instead of being 
 a flourishing active lad, he was turned out, and went a-begging all 
 through Saxony ; and he always told this story as the real history 
 of his misfortunes. Some say he is not as strong in his head as 
 he used to be. However, why should we say it is not a true tale ? 
 What is that ?" almost shrieked Essper. 
 
 Vivian listened, and heard distinctly the distant baying of 
 hounds. 
 
 "'Tis he!" said Essper; "now don't speak, sir, don't speak! 
 and if the devil make me join hira, as may be the case, for I am 
 but a cock-brained thing, particularly at midnight, don't be running 
 after me from any foolish feeling, but take care of yourself, and 
 don't be chattering. To think you should come to this, my pre- 
 cious young master ! " 
 
 "' Cease your blubbering ! Do you think that I am to be 
 frightened by the idiot tales of a parcel of old women, and the lies 
 of a gang of detected poachers? Come, sir, ride on. We are, 
 most probably, near some huntsman's cottage. That distant bay- 
 ing is the sweetest music I have heard a long while." 
 
 "Don't be rash, sir, — don't be rash. If you were to give me 
 fifty crowns now, I could not remember a single line of a single 
 prayer. Ave Maria ! it always is so when I most want it. Pater- 
 noster! — and whenever I have need to remember a song, sure 
 enough I am always thinking of a prayer. Unser vater, der 
 du bist im himmel — sanctificado se el tu nombra ; il tuo regno 
 venga." Here Essper George was proceeding with a scrap of 
 
246 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 modern Greek, when the horsemen suddenly came ujion one of those 
 broad green vistas which we often see in forests, and which are ge- 
 nerally cut, either for the convenience of hunting, or carting wood. 
 It opened on the left side of the road ; and at the hottom of it, 
 though apparently at a great distance, a light was visible. 
 
 " So much fi)r your Wild Huntsman, friend Essper ! I shall be 
 much disappointed if here are not quarters for the night. And 
 see ! the moon comes out — a good omen !" 
 
 After ten minutes' canter over the noiseless turf, the travellers 
 found themselves before a large and many-windowed mansion. 
 The building formed the farthest side of a quadrangle, which you 
 entered through an ancient and massy gate ; on each side of which 
 was a small building: of course the lodges. Essper soon found 
 that the gate was closely fastened ; and though he knocked often 
 and loudly, it was with no effect. That the inhabitants of the 
 mansion bad not yet retired was certain, for lights were moving iu 
 the great house ; and one of the lodges was not only vei'y bril- 
 liantly illuminated, but full, as Vivian was soon convinced, of cla- 
 morous, if not jovial gue^s. 
 
 "Now, by the soul of my unknown father!" said the enraged 
 Essper, " I will make these saucy porters learn their duty. What 
 ho ! there — what ho ! within ! within ! " But the only answer he 
 received, was the loud reiteration of a rude and roaring chorus ; 
 which, as it was now more distinctly and audibly enunciated, evi- 
 dently for the purpose of enraging the travellers — they detected 
 to be something to the following eflfect : — 
 
 " Then a prayer to St. Peter, a prayer to St. Paul! 
 A prayer to St. Jerome, a prayer to tliem all ! 
 A prayer to each one of the saintly stock, 
 But devotion alone, devotion to Hock !" 
 
 "A right good burden!" said Essper. The very words had 
 made him recover his temper, and ten thousand times more de- 
 sirous of gaining admittance. He was off his horse in a moment, 
 and scrambling up the wall with the aid of the iron staunchions, 
 he clambered up to the window. Tiie sudden appearance of his 
 figure startled the inmates of the lodge;- and one of them soon 
 staggered to the gate. 
 
 " What want you, ye noisy and disturbing varlets ? what want 
 you, ye most unhallowed rogues, at such a place, and at such an 
 hour? If you be thieves — look at our bars — (here a hiccup). If 
 you be poachers— our master is engaged, and ye may slay all the 
 game in the forest— (another hiccup) — but if ye be good men and 
 true " 
 
 " We are ! " hallooed Essper, eagerly. 
 
VIVIAN GKEY. 247 
 
 " You are !" said the porter, iu a toue of great surprise ; " then 
 you oui;hfc to be ashamed of yourselves fur disturbing holy men at 
 their devotions! " 
 
 " Is this the way," said Essper, " to behave, ye shameless rascals, 
 to a noble and mighty Prince, who happens to have lost his way in 
 your abominable forest; but who, though he has parted with bis suite, 
 has still iu his pocket a purse full of ducats ? Would ye have hiiu 
 robbed by any others but yourselves ? Is this the way you behave 
 to a prince of the Holy Roman Empire— a knight of the Golden 
 Fleece, and a most particular friend of your own master ? Is this 
 the way to behave to his secretary, who is one of the merriest 
 fellows living ; can sing a jolly song with any of you, and so be- 
 devil a bottle of Geiseuheim with lemons and brandy, that for the 
 soul of ye, you Vr-ouldn't know it from the greenest Tokay ? Out, 
 out on ye ! you know not what you liave lost !" 
 
 Ere Essper had finished, more than one stout bolt had been 
 drawn, and the great key had already entered the stouter lock. 
 
 " Most honourable sirs !" hiccupped the porter ; " in Our Lady's 
 name enter. I had forgot myself; for iu these autumn nights 
 it is necessary to anticipate the cold with a glass of cheering 
 liquor ; and God forgive me ! if I did not mistake your most 
 mighty Highnesses for a couple of forest rovers, or small poacliers 
 
 at least. Thin entertainment liere, kind sir (here the last bolt 
 
 was withdrawn) — a glass of indifferent liquor, and a prayer-book. 
 I pass the time chiefly these cold nights with a few holy-minded 
 friends, at our devotions. You heard us at our prayers, honour- 
 able lords ! 
 
 " A prayer to St. Peter, a prayer to St. Paul ! 
 A prayer to St. Jerome, a prayer to them all !" 
 
 Here the devout porter most reverently crossed himself. 
 
 " A prayer to each one of the saintly stock, 
 But devotion alone, devotion to Hock !" 
 
 added Essper George — '* You forget the best part of the burden, 
 my honest friend." 
 
 "Oh!" said the porter, with an arch smile, as he opened the 
 lodge door ; "I am glad to find that your honourable Excellencies 
 have a taste for hymns." 
 
 The porter led thera into a room, at a round table in which 
 about half a dozen individuals were busily engaged in discussing 
 the merits of various agreeable liquors. There was an attempt 
 to get up a show of poliie hospitality to Vivian as he entered; 
 but the man who offered him his chair fell to the ground iu an 
 unsuccessful struggle to be courteous ; and another one, who had 
 
248 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 filled a large glass for the guest on his entrance, offered him, after 
 a preliminary speech of incoherent compliments, the empty bottle 
 by mistake. The porter and his friends, although they were all 
 drunk, had sense enough to feel that the presence of a Prince of 
 the Holy Roman EmpirCj a Chevalier of the Golden Fleece, and 
 the particular friend of their master, was not exactly a fit com- 
 panion for themselves, and was rather a check on the gay freedom 
 of equal companionship ; and so, although the exertion was not 
 a little troublesome, the guardian of the gate reeled out of the 
 room to inform his honoured Lord of the sudden arrival of a 
 stranger of distinction. Essper George immediately took his 
 place, and ere the master of the lodge had returned, the noble 
 secretary had not only given a choice toast, sung a choice song, 
 and been hailed by the grateful plaudits of all present, but had 
 proceeded in his attempt to fulfil the pledge which he had given 
 at the gate to the very letter, by calling out lustily for a bottle of 
 Geisenheim, lemons, brandy, and a bowl. 
 
 " Fairly and softly, my little son of Bacchus," said the porter, as 
 he re-entered — " fairly and softly, and then thou shalt want no- 
 thing ; but remember I have to perform my duties unto the noble 
 Lord my master, and also to the noble Prince your master. If 
 thou wilt follow me," continued the porter, reeling as he bowed 
 with the greatest consideration to Vivian; "if thou wilt follow 
 me, most high and mighty sir, my master will be right glad to 
 have the honour of drinking your health. And as for you, my 
 friends, fairly and softly say I again. We will talk of the Gei- 
 senheim anon. Am I to be absent from the first brewing ? No, 
 no, fairly and softly ; you can drink my health when I am absent 
 in cold liquor, and say tliose things which you could not well say- 
 before my face. But mind, my most righteous and well-beloved, I 
 will have no flattery. Flattery is the destruction of all good 
 fellowship ; it is like a qualmish liqueur in the midst of a bottle of 
 wine. Speak your minds, say any little thing that comes first, as 
 thus, ' Well, for Hunsdrich the porter, I must declare that I never 
 heard evil word against him ;' or thus, ' A very good leg has 
 Hunsdrich the porter, and a tight-made lad altogether ; no enemy 
 with the girls, I warrant me ;' or thus, ' Well, for a good-hearted, 
 good-looking, stout-drinking, virtuous, honourable, liandsome, 
 generous, sharp-witted knave, commend me to Hunsdrich, the 
 porter ;' but not a word more, iny friends, not a word more, no 
 flattery. Now, sir, I beg your pardon." 
 
 The porter led the way through a cloistered walk, until they 
 arrived at the door of the great mansion, to which they ascended 
 by a lofty flight of steps ; it opened into a very large octagonal 
 hall, the sides of which were covered with fowling-pieces, stags' 
 
VIVIAN GEEY. 249 
 
 heads, couteaux de chasse, boar-spears, and huge fishing-nets. 
 Passing through this hall, they ascended a noble staircase, on the 
 first landing-place of which was a door, which Vivian's conductor 
 opened, and, ushering him into a large and well-lighted chamber, 
 withdrew. From the centre of this room descended a magnifi- 
 cently cut chandelier, which threw a graceful light upon a sump- 
 tuous banquet-table, at which were seated eight very singular- 
 looking personages. All of them wore hunting-dresses of various 
 shades of straw-coloured cloth, with the exception of one, who sat 
 on the left hand of the master of the feast, and the colour of 
 whose costume was a rich crimson purple. From the top to the 
 bottom of the table extended a double file of wine-glasses and 
 goblets, of all sizes and all colours. There you might see brilliant 
 relics of that ancient ruby-glass, the vivid tints of which seem lost 
 to us for ever. Next to these were marshalled goblets of Vene- 
 tian manufacture, of a clouded, creamy white ; then came the 
 huge hock-glass of some ancient Primate of Mentz, nearly a yard 
 high; towering above its companions, as the church, its former 
 master, predominated over the simple laymen of the middle ages. 
 Why should we forget a set of most curious and antique drinking- 
 cups of painted glass, on whose rare surfaces were emblazoned the 
 Kaiser and ten electors of the old Empire ? 
 
 Vivian bowed to the party, and stood in silence, while they stared 
 a scrutinising examination. At length the master of the feast 
 spoke. He was a very stout man, with a prodigious paunch, which 
 his tightened dress set off to great advantage. His face, and 
 particularly his forehead, were of great breadth. His eyes were 
 set far apart. His long ears hung down almost to his shoulders; 
 yet singular as he was, not only in these, but in many other 
 respects, everything was forgotten when your eyes lighted on his 
 nose. It was the most prodigious nose that Vivian ever remem- 
 bered not only seeing, but hearing, or even reading of. In fact, 
 it was too monstrous for a dream. This mighty nose seemed to 
 hang almost to its owner's chest. 
 
 " Be seated," said this personage, in no unpleasing voice, and 
 he pointed to the chair opposite to him. Vivian took the vacated 
 seat of the Vice President, who moved himself to the right. 
 " Be seated, and whoever you may be — welcome ! If our words 
 be few, think not that our welcome is scant. We are not much 
 given to speech, holding it for a principle that if a man's mouth 
 be open, it should be for the purpose of receiving that which 
 cheers a man's spirit ; not of giving vent to idle words, which, so 
 far as we have observed, produce no other effect save filling the 
 world with crude and unprofitable fantasies, and distracting our 
 attention when we are on the point of catching those flavours 
 
250 VIVIAN GllEY. 
 
 which alone make the world endurable. Therefore, briefly, but 
 heartily, welcome ! Welcome, Sir Stranger, from us and from 
 all — and first from us, the Grand-Duke of Johannisberger." 
 Here his Highness rose, and pulled out a large ruby tumbler from 
 the file. Each of those present did the same, without, however, 
 rising, and the hite Vice President, who sat next to Vivian, invited 
 liim to follow their example. 
 
 The Grand-Duke of Johannisberger brought forward, from 
 beneath the table, an ancient and exquisite bottle of that choice 
 liquor from which he took his exhilarating title. The cork was 
 drawn, and the bottle circulated with rapidity; and in three 
 minutes the ruby glasses ^ere filled and emptied, and the Grand- 
 Duke's health quaffed by all present. 
 
 "Again, Sir Stranger," continued the Grand-Duke, "briefly, but 
 heartily, welcome ! — welcome from us, and welcome from all — and 
 first from us, and now from the Archduke of Hockheimer ! " 
 
 The Archduke of Hockheimer was a thin, sinewy man, with 
 long, carroty hair — eyelashes of the same colour, but of a remark- 
 able length — and mustachios, which, though very thin, were so 
 long- that they met under his chin. Vivian could not refrain from 
 noticing the extreme length, whiteness, and apparent sharpness 
 of his teeth. The Archduke did not speak, but, leaning under 
 the table, soon produced a bottle of Hockheimer. He then took 
 from the file one of the Venetian glasses of clouded white. All 
 followed his example — the bottle was sent round, his health was 
 pledged — and the Grand-Duke of Johannisberger again spoke : — 
 
 " Agam, Sir Stranger, briefly, but heartily, welcome ! — welcome 
 from us, and welcome from all — and first from us, and now from 
 the Elector of Steinberg ! " 
 
 The Elector of Steinberg was a short, but very broad-backed, 
 strong-built man. Though his head was large, his features were 
 small, and appeared smaller from the immense quantity of coarse, 
 shiiggy, brown hair, which grew over almost every part of his 
 face, and fell down upon his shoulders. The Elector was as 
 silent as his predecessor, and quickly produced a bottle of Stein- 
 berg. The curious drinking cups of painted glass were imme- 
 diately withdrawn from the file — the bottle was sent round, the 
 Elector's health was pledged — and the Grand-Duke of Johannis- 
 berger again spoke : — 
 
 "Again, Sir Stranger, briefly, but heartily, welcome ! — welcome 
 from us, and welcome from all — and first from us, and now from 
 the Margrave of Rudcsheimcr ! " 
 
 The Margrave of Rudesheimer was a slender man of elegant 
 appearance. As Vivian watched the glance of his speaking eye, 
 and the half-satirical and half-jovial smile which played upon his 
 
VIVIAN GRET. 261 
 
 features, he hardly expected that he would be as silent as his 
 predecessors. But the Margrave spoke no word. He gave a 
 kind of shout of savage exultation as he smacked his lips after 
 dashing ofif his glass of Rudesheimer ; and scarcely noticing the 
 salutations of those who drank his health, he threw himself hack 
 in his chair, and listened seemingly with a smile of derision, wliile 
 the Grand-Duke of Johannisberger again spoke : — 
 
 " Again, Sir Stranger, briefly, but heartily, welcome ! — welcome 
 from us, and welcome from all — and first from us, and now from 
 the Landgrave of Grafenberg." 
 
 The Landgrave of Grafenberg was a rude, awkward-looking 
 person, who, when he rose from his seat, stared like an idiot, and 
 seemed utterly ignorant of what he ought to do. But his quick 
 companion, the Margrave of Rudesheimer, soon thrust a bottle of 
 Grafenberg into the Landgrave's hand, and with some trouble 
 and bustle the Landgrave extracted the cork ; and then helping 
 himself, sat down, forgetting either to salute, or to return the 
 salutations of those present. 
 
 " Again, Sir Stranger, briefly, but heartily, welcome ! — welcome 
 from us, and welcome from all — and first fi'om us, and now from 
 the Palsgrave of Geisenheim ! '"' 
 
 The Palsgrave of Geisenheim was a dwarf in spectacles. He 
 drew the cork from his bottle like lightning, and mouthed at his 
 companions, even while he bowed to them. 
 
 " Again, Su- Stranger, briefly, but heartily, welcome ! — welcome 
 from us, and welcome from all — and first from us, and now from 
 the Count of Markbrunnen ! " 
 
 The Count of Markbrunnen was a sullen-looking personage, 
 with lips protruding nearly three inches beyond his nose. From 
 each side of his upper jaw projected a large tooth. 
 
 '•' Thanks to Heaven ! " said Vivian, as the Grand-Duke again 
 spoke — '• thanks to Heaven, here is our last man ! " 
 
 " Again, Sir Stranger, briefly, but heartily, welcome ! — welcome 
 from us, and welcome from all — and first from us, and now 
 from the Baron of Asmanshaixsen ! " 
 
 The Baron of Asmanshausen sat on the left hand of the Grand- 
 Duke of Johannisberger, and was dressed, as we have before said, 
 in an unique costume of crimson purple. The Baron stood, with- 
 out his boots, about six feet eight. He was a sleek man, with a 
 head not bigger than a child's, and a pair of small, black, beady 
 eyes, of singular brilliancy. The Baron introduced a bottle of the 
 only red wine that the Rhine boasts ; but which, for its fragrant 
 and fruity flavour, and its brilliant tint, is perhaps not inferior to 
 the sunset glow of Burgundy. 
 
853 TIVIAN GREY. 
 
 "And now," continued the Grand-Dukc, "having introduced 
 you to all present, sir, we will begin drinking." 
 
 Vivian had submitted to the introductory ceremonies with the 
 good grace which becomes a man of the world ; but the coolness 
 of this last observation recalled our hero's wandering senses ; and, 
 at the same time, alarmed at discovering that eight bottles of 
 wine had been discussed by the party, merely as a preliminary, 
 and emboldened by the contents of one bottle which had fallen to 
 his own share, he had the courage to confront the Grand-Duke of 
 Johannisberger in his own castle. 
 
 " Your wine, most noble Lord", stands in no need of my com- 
 mendation ; but as I must mention it, let it not be said that I 
 ever mentioned it without praise. After a ten hours' ride, its 
 flavour is as grateful to the palate as its strength is refreshing to 
 the heart ; but though old Hock, in homely phrase, is styled meat 
 and drink, I confess to you that, at this moment, I stand in need 
 of even more solid sustenance than the juice of the sunny hill." 
 
 " A traitor ! " shrieked all present, each with his right arm 
 stretched out, glass m hand ; " A traitor ! " 
 
 " No traitor," answered Vivian, " noble and right thirsty lords ; 
 but one of the most hungry mortals that ever yet famished." 
 
 The only answer that he received for some time was a loud and 
 ill-boding murmur. The long whisker of the Archduke of Hock- 
 heimer curled with renewed rage ; audible, though suppressed, was 
 the growl of the hairy Elector of Steinberg ; fearful the corporeal 
 involutions of the tall Baron of Asmanshausen ; and savagely 
 sounded the wild laugh of the bright-eyed Margrave of Rudes- 
 beimer. 
 
 " Silence, my Lords ! " said the Grand-Duke. " Forget we that 
 ignorance is the stranger's portion, and that no treason can exist 
 among those who are not our sworn subjects ? Pity Ave rather the 
 degeneracy of this bold-spoken youth ; and in the plenitude of our 
 mercy, let us pardon his demand ! Know ye, unknown knight, that 
 you are in the presence of an august society, who are here met at 
 one of their accustomed convocations ; -v^^hereof the purport is the 
 frequent quaffing of those most glorious liquors, of which the sa- 
 cred Rhine is the great father. We profess to find a perfect com- 
 mentary on the Pindaric laud of the strongest element, in the 
 circumstance of the banks of a river being the locality where the 
 juice of the grape is most delicious — and holding, therefore, that 
 water is strongest, because, in a manner, it givetli birth to wine ; 
 we also hold it as a sacred element, and consequently, most re- 
 ligiously refrain from refreshing our bodies Avith that sanctified 
 and most undrinkable fluid. Know ye, that wc are the children of 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 283 
 
 the Rhine — ^the conservators of his flavours — profound in the learn- 
 ing of his exquisite aroma, and deep students in the mysteries of 
 his inexplicable n'are. Professing not to be immortal, we find in 
 the exercise of the chase a noble means to preserve that health 
 which is necessary for the performance of the ceremonies to which 
 we are pledged. At to-morrow's dawn our bugle sounds, and thou, 
 stranger, may engage the wild boar at our side ; at to-morro\y's 
 noon the castle bell will toll, and thou, stranger, may eat of the 
 beast which thou hast conquered : — but to feed after midnight, to 
 destroy the power of catching the delicate flavour, to annihilate 
 the faculty of detecting the undefinable nare, is heresy — mosit rank 
 and damnable heresy ! — Therefore, at this hour soundeth no plate 
 or platter — jingleth no knife or culinary instrument in the Palace 
 OF THE Wines. Yet, in consideration of thy youth, and that on 
 the whole thou hast tasted thy liquor like a proper man, from which 
 we augur the best expectations of the manner in which thou wilt 
 drink it, — we feel confident that our brothers of the goblet will 
 permit us to grant thee the substantial solace of a single shoeing 
 horn." 
 
 " Let it be a Dutch herring then," said Vivian ; '•' and as you 
 have souls to be saved, grant me one slice of bread." 
 
 " It cannot be," said the Grand-Duke ; " but as we are willing 
 to be indulgent to bold hearts, verily, we will wink at the profana- 
 tion of a single toast ; but you must order an anchovy one, and 
 give secret instructions to the waiting-man to forget the fish. Ifc 
 must be counted as a second shoeing horn ; and you will forfeit for 
 the last a bottle of Markbrunnen. 
 
 "And now, illustrious brothers," continued the Grand-Duke, 
 "letusdi-ink 1726!" 
 
 All present gave a single cheer, in which Vivian was obliged to 
 join ; and they honoured with a glass of the very year, the me- 
 mory of a celebrated vintage. 
 
 " 1748 ! " said the Grand-Duke. 
 
 Two cheers, and the same ceremony. 
 
 1766, and 1779, were honoured in the same manner; but when 
 the next toast was drank, Vivian almost observed in the counte- 
 nances of the Grand-Duke and his friends, the signs of incipient 
 insanity. 
 
 " 1783 ! " hallooed the Grand-Duke, in a tone of the most 
 triumphant exultation ; and his mighty proboscis, as it snufl"ed the 
 air, almost caused a whirlwind round the room. Hockeimer gave a 
 roar, Steinberg a growl, Rudesheimer a wild laugh, Markbrunnen 
 a loud grunt, Grafenberg a bray, Asmanshausen's long body moved 
 to and fro with wonderful agitation, and little Geisenheim's bright 
 eyes glistened through their glasses, as if they were on fire. How 
 
254 VIVIAX GREY. 
 
 ludicrous is the incipient inebriety of a mau who wears spec- 
 tacles ! 
 
 Thanks to an excellent constitution, which recent misery, how- 
 ever, had somewhat shattered, Vivian bore up against all these at- 
 tacks; and when they had got down to 1802, from the excellency 
 of his digestion, and the inimitable skill with which he emptied 
 many of the latter glasses under the table, he was, perhaps, iu 
 better condition than any one in the room. 
 
 And now rose the idiot Grafenberg ; Rudesheiraer all the time, 
 with a malicious smile, faintly pulling him down by the skirt of his 
 coat, as if he were desirous of preventing an exposure which his 
 own advice had brought about. He had been persuading Grafen- 
 berg the whole evenuig to make a speech. 
 
 " My Lord Duke," brayed the jackass ; and then he stopped 
 dead, and looked round the room with an unmeaning stare. 
 
 " Hear, hear, hear ! " was the general cry ; but Grafenberg 
 seemed astounded at any one being desirous of hearing his voice, 
 or for a moment seriously entertaining the idea that he could have 
 anything to say ; and so he stared again, and again, and again ; 
 till at last, Rudesheimer, by dint of kicking his shins under the 
 table, the Margrave the whole time seeming perfectly motionless, 
 at length extracted a sentence from the asinine Landgrave. 
 
 " My Lord Duke ! " again commenced Grafenberg ; and again 
 he stopped. 
 
 " Go ou ! " shouted all, 
 
 " My Lord Duke ! Rudesheimer is treading ou my toes ! " 
 
 Here little Geiscnheim gave a loud laugh of derision ; in which 
 all joined, except surly Markbrunnen, whose lips protruded an extra 
 inch beyond their usual length, when he found that all were laugh- 
 ing at his friend. The Grand-Duke at last procured silence. 
 
 " Shame ! shame ! mighty Princes ! . Shame ! shame ! noble 
 Lords! Is it with this irreverent glee, these scurvy flouts, and in- 
 decorous mockei'y, that you would have this stranger believe that 
 we celebrate the ceremonies of our father Rhine ? Shame, I say — 
 and silence ! It is time that we should prove to him, that we are 
 not merely a boisterous and unruly party of swilling varlets, who 
 leave tlicir brains in their cups. It is time that we should do some- 
 thing to prove that we are capable of better and worthier things. 
 What ho ! my Lord of Geisenheim ! shall I speak twice to tlie 
 guardian of the horn of the Fairy King ? " 
 
 The little dwarf instantly jumped from his seat, and proceeded 
 to the end of the room ; where, after having bowed three times 
 with great reverence before a small black cabinet made of vine 
 wood, he opened it with a golden key, and then with great pomp 
 and ceremony bore its contents to the Grand-Duke. That chief- 
 
VrVIAN GKET. S65 
 
 tain took from the little dwarf the horn of a gigantic and ante- 
 diluvian elk. The cunning- hand of an ancient German artificer had 
 formed this curious relic into a drinking-cup. It was exquisitely 
 polished, and cased in the interior with silver. On the outside the 
 only ornaments were three richly-chased silver rings, which were 
 placed nearly at equal distances. When the Grand-Duke had 
 carefully examined this most precious horn, he held it up with greatt 
 reverence to all present, and a party of devout Catholics could not 
 have paid greater homage to the elevated Host, than did the various 
 guests to the horn of the Fairy King. Even the satanic smile on 
 Rudesheimer's countenance was for a moment subdued ; and all 
 bowed. The Grand-Duke then delivered the mighty cup to his 
 neighbour, the Archduke of Hockhcimer, who held it with both 
 hands until his Royal Highness had emptied into it, with great 
 care, three bottles of Johannisberger. All rose : the Grand-Duke 
 took the goblet in one hand, and with the other he dexterously put 
 aside his most inconvenient and enormous nose. Dead silence 
 prevailed, save the roar of the liquor as it rushed down the Grand- 
 Duke's throat, and resounded through the chamber like the distant 
 dash of a waterfall. In three minutes the Chairman had completed 
 his task, the horn had quitted his mouth, his nose had again re- 
 sumed its usual situation, and as he handed the cup to the Arch- 
 duke, Vivian thought that a material change had taken place in his 
 countenance since he had quafled his last draught. His eyes 
 seemed more apart ; his ears seemed broader and longer ; and his 
 nose visibly lengthened. The Archduke, before he commenced 
 his draught, ascertained with great scrupulosity that his predeces- 
 sor had taken his fair share by draining the horn as far as the first 
 ring ; and then he poured off with great rapidity his own portion. 
 But though, in performing the same task, he was quicker than the 
 master of the party, the draught not only apparently, but audibly, 
 produced upon him a much more decided efi'ect than it had on the 
 Grand-Duke ; for when the second ring was drained, the Archduke 
 gave a loud roar of exultation, and stood up for some time from 
 his seat, with his hands resting on the table, over which he leant, 
 as if he were about to spring upon his opposite neighbour. The 
 cup was now handed across the table to the Baron of Asmans- 
 hausen. His Lordship performed his task with ease ; but as he 
 withdrew the horn from his mouth, all present, except Vivian, gave 
 a loud cry of " Supernaculum ! " The Baron smiled with great 
 contem.pt, as he tossed, with a careless hand, the great horu upside 
 downwards, and was unable to shed upon his nail even the one 
 excusable pearl. He handed the refilled horn to tha Elector of 
 Steinberg, who drank his portion with a growl; but afterwards 
 seemed so pleased with the facility of his execution that, instead of 
 
256 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 delivering it to the next bibber, the Palsgrave of Markbrunnen, 
 he commenced some clumsy attempts at a dance of triumph, in 
 which he certainly would have proceeded, had not the loud grunts 
 of the surly and thick-lipped Markbrunnen occasioned the inter- 
 ference of the President. Supernaculum now fell to the Margrave 
 of Rudesheimer, who gave a loud and long-continued laugh as the 
 dwarf of Geisenheim filled the horn for the third time. 
 
 While this ceremony was going on, a thousand plans had occurred 
 to Vivian for his escape ; but all, on second thoughts, proved im- 
 practicable. With agony he had observed that supernaculum was 
 his miserable lot. Could he but have foisted it on the idiot Gra- 
 fenberg, he might, by his own impudence and the other's stupidity, 
 have escaped. But he could not flatter himself that he should be 
 successful in bringing about this end, for he observed with dismay 
 that the malicious Rudesheimer had not for a moment ceased 
 watching him with a keen and exulting glance. Geisenheim per- 
 formed his task ; and ere Vivian could ask for the goblet, Rudes- 
 heimer, with a fell laugh, had handed it to Grafenberg. The 
 greedy ass drank his portion with ease, and indeed drank far beyond 
 his limit. The cup was in Vivian's hand, Rudesheimer was roaring 
 supernaculum louder than all — Vivian saw that the covetous Gra- 
 fenberg had providentially rendered his task comparatively light ; 
 but even as it was, he trembled at the idea of drinking at a single 
 draught, more than a pint of most vigorous and powerful wine. 
 
 " My Lord Duke," said Vivian, " you and your companions for- 
 get that I am little used to these ceremonies ; that I am yet unini- 
 tiated in the mysteries of the nare. I have endeavoured to prove 
 myself no chicken-hearted water-drinking craven, and I have more 
 wine within me at this moment than any man yet bore without 
 dinner. I think, therefore, that I have some grounds for request- 
 ing indulgence ; and I have no doubt that the good sense of your- 
 self and your friends " 
 
 Ere Vivian could finish, he almost fancied that a well-stocked 
 menagerie had been suddenly emptied in the room. Such roaring, 
 and such growling, and such hissing, could only have been exceeded 
 on some grand feast day in the recesses of a Brazilian forest. 
 Asmanshausen looked as fierce as a boa constrictor before dinner. 
 The proboscis of the Grand-Duke heaved to and fro like the trunk 
 of an enraged elephant. Hockheimer glared like a Bengal tiger, 
 about to spring upon its prey. Steinberg growled like a Baltic 
 bear. In IMarkbrunnen, Vivian recognised the wild-boar he had 
 himself often hunted. Grafenberg brayed like a jackass; and 
 Geisenheim chattered like an ape. But all was forgotten and 
 unnoticed when Vivian heard the foil and frantic shouts of the 
 laughing hya;na, the Mnrgrave of Rudesheimer! Vivian, in dc- 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 257 
 
 spair, dashed the horii of Oberon to his mouth. One pull, a gasp, 
 another desperate draught ; it was done ! and followed by a super- 
 naculum almost superior to the exulting Asmanshausen's. 
 
 A loud shout hailed the exploit, and when the shout had sub- 
 sided into silence, the voice of the Grand-Duke of Johannisberger 
 was again heard : — 
 
 " Noble Lords and Princes ! I congratulate you on the acquisi- 
 tion of a congenial co-mate, and the accession to our society of one 
 who, I now venture to say, will never disgrace the glorious founda- 
 tion; but who, on the contrary, with heaven's blessing, and the 
 aid of his own good palate, will, it is hoped, add to our present 
 knowledge of flavours by the detection of new ones, and by illus- 
 trations drawn from frequent study and constant observation of 
 the mysterious nare. In consideration of his long journey and his 
 noble achievement, I do propose that we drink but very lightly to- 
 night, and meet by two hours after to-morrow's dawn, under the 
 mossman's oak. Nevertheless, before we part, for the refresh- 
 ment of oui" own good bodies, and by way of reward and act of 
 courtesy unto this noble and accomplished stranger, let us pledge 
 him in some foreign grape of fame, to which he may perhaps 
 he more accustomed than unto the ever-preferable juices of our 
 Father Rhine." Here the Grand-Duke nodded to little Geisen- 
 heim, who in a moment was at his elbow. 
 
 It was in vain that Vivian remonstrated, excused himself from 
 joining, or assured them that their conduct had already been so 
 peculiarly courteous, that any further attention was at present 
 unnecessary. A curiously-cut glass, which on a moderate cal- 
 culation Vivian reckoned would hold at least three pints, was 
 placed before each guest ; and a basket, containing nine bottles 
 of sparkling champagne, premiere qualite, was set before his 
 Highness. 
 
 " We are no bigots, noble stranger," said the Grand-Duke, as he 
 took one of the bottles, and scrutinised the cork with a very keen 
 eye ; — " we are no bigots, and there are moments when we drink 
 Champagne, nor is Burgundy forgotten, nor the soft Bourdeaux, 
 nor the glowing grape of the sunny Rhone ! " His Highness held 
 the bottle at an oblique angle with the chandelier. The wire is 
 loosened, — whirr ! — The exploded cork whizzed through the air, 
 extinguished one of the burners of the chandelier, and brought 
 the cut di'op which was suspended under it rattling down among 
 the glasses on the table. The President poured the foaming 
 fluid into his great goblet, and bowing to all around, fastened on 
 its contents with as much eagerness as Arabs hasten to a fountain. 
 
 The same operation was performed as regularly and as skilfully 
 by all, except Vivian. Eight burners were extinguished ; eight 
 
 17 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 ^amond drops had fallen clattering on the table; eight human 
 beings had finished a miraculous carouse,, by each drinking oflF a 
 Ijottle of sparkling champagne. It was Vivian's tucn. Ail eyes 
 were fixed on him with the most perfect attention. He was mow, 
 indeed, quite desperate ; for bad he been able to execute a trick 
 •which long practice alone could have enabled any man to perform, 
 lie felt conscious that it was quite out of his power to taste a 
 single drop of the contents of his bottle. However, he loosened 
 lis wire and held the bottle at an angle with the chandelier ;. but 
 the cork flew quite wild, a;nd struck, wiik great force the mighty 
 iiose of Johannisberger. 
 
 « A forfeit! "cried all. 
 
 " Treason, and a forfeit ! " cried the Margrave of Eudesheimer.. 
 
 *' A forfeit is sufficient punishment," said the President ; who, 
 liQwever,. still felt the smarting efi"ect of the assault on his pro- 
 boscis.. '* Xou must drink Oberon's Horn full of champagne," be 
 continued., 
 
 " Never ! " said Viyiao.. " Enough of this ; I have already eon- 
 forraed in a degree which may injuriously aflect my health, with 
 your barbarous humours ; but there is moderation even in excess ; 
 «,nd so if you please, my Lord, your servant may show me to my 
 apartment, or I shall again mount my horse," 
 
 " You shall not leave this room," said the Pi^idenfc, with great 
 firmness. 
 
 "Who shall prevent me?" asked ViyianE,. 
 
 « I will-^all will I" 
 
 "Nx)Wi,.by heaveus! a more insolent and inhospitable old ruffian 
 did I never meet. By the wine you worship, if one of you dare 
 touch me, you shall rue it all your born days ; and as for you^ sii', 
 if you advance one step towards me, I AviU take that sau.sage of a 
 DOse of yours, and hurl you half round your own castle ! " 
 
 " Treason ! " shouted all, and looked to the chair. 
 
 "Treason!" said enraged majesty. The allusion to the nose 
 had done away with all the constitutional doubts which had been 
 sported so moderately at the commencement of the evening. 
 
 " Treason!" howled the President : " instant punishment!" 
 
 '* What punishment ?" asked Asnianshausen, 
 
 "Drown him in the new butt of Moselle," recommended Rudes- 
 beimer. The suggestion was immediately adopted. Every one 
 liose:: the little Geisenheim already had hold of Vivian's shoulder ; 
 and. Grafenberg, instigated by the cowardly but malicious Rudes- 
 heimer, was about to seize him by the neck. Vivian took the 
 dwarf and hurled him at tjie chandelier, in whose brazen chains 
 tlie little being got entangled^ and there remained. An unexpected 
 <!ros3^buttoaker floored the incautious and unscieutifia Grafen- 
 
VIVIAK GREY. 269 
 
 herg ; and following up tliese advantages, Vivian laid open the 
 skull of Ills prime enemy, the reti-eatingMargrave of Rudesheimer, 
 with the assistance of the horn of Oberon ; whicli flew from his 
 hand to the other end of the room, from the force with which it 
 rebounded from the cranium of the enemy. All the rest were now 
 on the advance ; but giving a vigorous and unexpected push ta 
 the table, the Johannisberger and Asmanshausen wei'e thrown 
 over, and the nose of the former got entangled with the awkward 
 windings of the Fairy King's horn. Taking advantage of this 
 move, Vivian rushed to the door. He escaped, but had not time- 
 to secure the lock against the enemy, for the stout Elector of 
 Steinberg was too quick for him. He dashed down the stairs 
 with extraordinary agility ; but just as he had gained the large 
 octagonal hall, the whole of his late boon companions, Avith the 
 exception of the dwarf of Geisenheim, who was left in the chan- 
 delier, were visible in full chase. Escape was impossible, and so 
 Vivian, followed by the seven nobles, headed by their President, 
 described with all possible rapidity a circle round the hall. He 
 gave himself up for lost ; but luckily for him, it never occurred to 
 one of his pursuers to do anything but follow their leader ; and as, 
 therefore, they never dodged Vivian, and as, also, he was a . much 
 fleeter runner than the fat President, whose pace, of course,. 
 regulated the progress of his followers, the party might have gone 
 on at this rate, until all of them had dropped from fatigue, hadnot- 
 the occiu-reuce of a ludicrous incident prevented this consum- 
 mation. 
 
 The hall door was suddenly dashed open, and Essper George 
 rushed in, followed in full chase by Hunsdrich and the guests of 
 the lodge, Avho were the servants of Vivian's pursuers. Essper 
 darted in between Rudesheimer aud Markbrunnen, and Hunsdrich 
 and his friends following the same tactics as their lords and 
 masters, without making any attempt to surround and hem in the 
 object of their pursuit, merely followed him in order ; describing, 
 but in a contrary direction, a lesser circle within the eternal round 
 of the first party. It was only proper for the servants to give 
 their masters the wall. In spite of their very disagreeable and 
 dangerous situation, it was with difficulty that Vivian refrained 
 from laughter, as he met Essper regularly every half minute at the 
 foot of the great staircase. Suddenly, as Essper passed, he took 
 Vivian by the waist, and with a single jerk placed him on the 
 stairs ; and then, with a dexterous dodge, he brought Huusdricb 
 the porter and the Grand-Duke in full contact. 
 
 " I have got you at last," said Hunsdrich, seizing hold of his 
 Grace of Johannisberger by the ears, and mistaking him foy 
 Essper. 
 
"260 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 " I have got you at last," said his master, grappling, as he sup- 
 posed, with Vivian. Both struggled : their followers pushed on. 
 with impetuous force — the battle was general — the overthrow 
 universal. In a moment all were on the gi-ound ; and if any less 
 inebriated or more active individual attempted to rise, Essper 
 immediately brought him down with a boar-spear. 
 
 " Give me that large fishing-net,"' said Essper to Vivian, " quick, 
 quick." 
 
 Vivian pulled down a large coarse net, which covered nearly 
 •five sides of the room. It was immediately unfolded, and spreaa 
 over the fallen crew. To fasten it down with half a dozen boar- 
 spears, w'hich they drove into the floor, was the work of a moment. 
 Essper had one pull at the proboscis of the Grand-Duke of Johan- 
 nisberger before he hurried Vivian away ; and in ten minutes they 
 were again on their horses' backs, and galloping through the 
 Gtar-lit wood. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 It is the hour before the labouring bee has left his golden hive ; 
 not yet the blooming day buds in the blushing East ; not yet has 
 the victorious Lucifer chased from the early sky the fainting 
 splendour of the stars of night. All is silent, save the light breath 
 of morn waking the slumbering leaves. Even, now a golden 
 streak breaks over the grey mountains. Hark to shrill chanticleer ! 
 As the cock crows, the owl ceases. Hark to shrill chanticleer's 
 feathered rival ! the mounting lark springs from the sullen earth, 
 and welcomes with his hymn the coming day. The golden streak 
 has expanded into a crimson crescent, and rays of living fire flame 
 over the rose-enamelled East. Man rises sooner than the sun ; 
 and already sound the whistle of tlie ploughman, the song of the 
 mower, and the forge of the smith — and hark to the bugle of the 
 hunter, and the baying of his deep-mouthed hound. The sun is 
 up — the generating sun ! and temple, and tower, and tree ; the 
 massy wood, and the broad field, and the distant hill, burst into 
 «udden light — quickly upcurlcd is the dusky mist from the shining 
 rivei" — quickly is the cold dew drunk from the raised heads of the 
 ■drooping flowers ! 
 
 A canter, by a somewhat clearer light tlian the one which had 
 so unfortunately guided himself and his companion to tlie Palace 
 of the Wines, soon carried them again to the skirts of the forest, 
 and at this minute they are emerging on the plain from yonder 
 ^(ark wood. 
 
 "By heavens! Essper, I cannot reach the town this morning. 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 201 
 
 Was ever anything more unfortunate. A curse on those drunken 
 fools. What with no rest, and no solid refreshment, and the rivers 
 of hock that are flowing within me, and the infernal exertion of 
 running round that vile hall, I feel fairly exhausted, aud could at 
 this moment fall from my saddle. See you no habitation, my good 
 fellow, where there might be a chance of a breakfast and a few 
 hours' rest ? We are now well out of the forest — Oh ! surely there 
 is smoke from behind those pines — some good wife, I trust, is by 
 her chimney corner." 
 
 " If my sense be not destroyed by the, fumes of that mulled 
 Geisenheim, which still haunts me, I could swear that the smoke 
 is the soul of a burning weed." 
 
 "A truce to your jokes, good Essper, I really am very ill. A 
 year ago I could have laughed at our misfortunes, but now it is 
 very different ; and, by heavens, I must have breakfast ! so stir 
 — exert yourself, and, although I die for it, let us canter up to 
 the smoke." 
 
 " No, dear master, I will ride on before. Do you follow gently, 
 and if there be a pigeon in the pot in all Germany, I swear by 
 the patron saint of every village for fifty miles round, provided 
 they be not heretics, that you shall taste of its breast-bone this 
 morning." 
 
 The smoke did issue from, a chimney, but the door of the cottage 
 was shut. 
 
 " Hilloa, within ! " shouted Essper ; " who shuts the sua out oa 
 a September morning ?" 
 
 The door was at length slovrly opened, and a most ill-favoured 
 and inliospitable-Iooking dame demanded, in a sullen voicey 
 "What's your will?" 
 
 " You pretty creature ! " said Essper, who v/as still a little 
 tipsy. 
 
 The door would have been shut in his face had not he darted 
 into the house before the woman was aware. 
 
 " Truly, a neat and pleasant dwelling I and you would have no 
 objection, I guess, to give a handsome young gentleman some 
 little sop of something just to remind him, you know, that it isn't 
 dinner-time." 
 
 " We give no sops here ; what do you take us for ? and so, my 
 handsome young gentleman, be off, or I shall call the good 
 man." 
 
 " Why, I am not the handsome young gentleman, that is my 
 master ! who, if he were not half-starved to death, would fall in, 
 love with you at first sight." 
 
 " Your master — is he in the carriage ?" 
 
 " Carriage ! no — on horseback. " 
 
262 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 *• Travellers?" 
 
 " To be sure, dear dame ; travellers true." 
 
 " Travellers true, without lug-g-age, and at this time of morn ! 
 Methinks, by your looks, queer fellows, that you are travellers 
 whom it may be wise for an honest woman not to meet" 
 
 " What ! some people have an objection, then, to a forty kreiizer 
 ^>iece on a sunny morning ? " 
 
 So saying, Essper, in a careless manner, tossed a bread piece in 
 the air, and made it ring on a fellow coin, as he caught it in the 
 palm of his hand when it descended. 
 
 " Is that your master ?" asked the woman. 
 
 " Ay, is it ! and the prettiest piece of flesh I have seen this 
 month, except yourself." 
 
 " Well ! if the gentleman likes bread he can sit dov,-n here," 
 said the woman, pointing to a bench, and throwing a sour black 
 loaf upon the table. 
 
 "Now, sir!" said Essper, wiping the bench with great care, 
 ■*' lie you here and rest yourself. I have known a marshal sleep 
 upon a harder sofa. Breakfast will be ready immediately." 
 
 " If you cannot eat Avhat you have, you may ride whore you can 
 find better cheer." 
 
 " What is bread for a traveller's breakfast ? But I dare say 
 my Lord will be contented — young men are so easily pleased 
 Tvhen there is a pretty girl in the case — you know that, you 
 wench! you do, you little hussy; you are taking advantage of 
 it." 
 
 Something like a smile lit up the face of the sullen woman 
 when she said, " There may be an egg in the house, but I don't 
 know." 
 
 " But you will soon, you dear creature ! What a pretty foot ! " 
 1)awled Essper after her, as she left the room. " Now confound 
 this old hag-, if there be not meat about this house, may I keep 
 my mouth sluit at our next dinner. What's that in the comer ? 
 ix boar's tusk ! Ay, ay! a huntsman's cottage; and when lived a 
 Imntsman on black bread before ! Oh ! bless your bright eyes for 
 ihese Gggi^, and this basin of new milk." 
 
 So saying, Essper took them out of her hand, and placed them 
 "before Vivian. 
 
 " I was saying to myself, my pretty girl, "when you were out of 
 the room, ' Essper George, good cheer, say thy prayers, and never 
 despair ; come what may, you will fall among friends at last, and 
 liow do you know that your dream mayn't come true after all ? 
 Didn't you dream tliat you breakfasted in the month of So])- 
 tembcr with a genteel young woman with gold ear-rings ? and is 
 iiot she standing before you now ? and did not she do everything 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 263 
 
 in the world to make you comfortable ? Did not she give you 
 milk and eggs, and when you complained that you and meat had 
 been but slack friends of late, did not she open her own closet, 
 and give you as fine a piece of hunting beef as was ever set 
 before a Jagd Junker ? ' " 
 
 " I think you will turn me into an inn-keeper's wife at last," 
 said the dame, hev stern features relaxing into a smile ; and while 
 she spoke she advanced to the great closet, Essper George fol- 
 lawing her, walking on his toes, lolling out his enormous tongue, 
 and stroking his mock paunch. As she opened it he jumped upon 
 a. chair, and had examined every shelf in less time than a pistol 
 could flash. " White bread ! fit fot a countess. Salt! worthy of 
 Poland. Boar's head ! ! no better at Troyes : and hunting 
 beef!!! my dream is true!" and he bore in triimiph to Vivian, 
 who was nearly asleep, the ample round of salt and pickled 
 beef, well stuffed with all kinds of savory herbs. 
 
 It was nearly an hour before noon ere 1;he travellers had re- 
 mounted. Their road again entered the enormous forest which 
 they had been skirting for the last two days. The huntsmen were 
 abroad ; and the fine weather, his good meal, and seasonable rest, 
 jind the inspiriting sounds of the bugle, made Vivian feel recovered 
 from his late fatigues. 
 
 " That must be a true-hearted huntsman, Essper, by the sound 
 of his bugle. I never heard one played with more spirit. Hark ! 
 how fine it dies away in the wood — fainter and fainter, yet how 
 clear ! It must be now half a mile distant." 
 
 " I hear nothing so wonderful," said Essper, putting the two 
 middle fingers of his right hand before his mouth, and sounding a 
 note so clear and beautiful, so exactly imitative of the fall Avhich 
 Vivian had noticed and admired, that for a moment he imagined 
 that the huntsman was at his elbow. 
 
 ".Thou art a cunning knave ! — do it again." This time Essper 
 made the very wood echo. In a few minutes a horseman galloped 
 up. He was as spruce a cavalier as ever pricked gay steed on the 
 pliant grass. He was dressed in a green military uniform, and a 
 small gilt bugle hung down his side. His spear told them that 
 he was hunting the wild boar. When he saw Vivian and Essper 
 he suddenly pulled up his horse, and seemed very much as- 
 tonished. 
 
 " I thought that his Highness had been here," said the hunts- 
 man. 
 
 " Nt» one has passed us, sir," said Vivian. 
 
 " I could have sworn that his bugle soundefl froft this vei"y spwt," 
 eaid the huntsman. " I\ly ear seldoto deceives me." 
 
 " We heard a bugle to the right, sir," said Essper. 
 
264 VIVIAN GKET. 
 
 " Thanks, my friend," and the huntsman was about to gallop 
 off. 
 
 " May I ask the name of his Highness," said Vivian. " We 
 are strangers in this country." 
 
 " That may certainly account for your ignorance," said the 
 huntsman ; " but no one who lives in this land can be unacquainted 
 with his Serene Highness the Prince of Little Lilliput, my illus- 
 trious master. I have the honour," continued the huntsman, " of 
 being Jagd Junker, or Gentilhomme de la Chasse to his Serene 
 Highness." 
 
 " 'Tis an office of great dignity," said Vivian, " and one that 
 I have no doubt you most admirably perform ; I will not stop you, 
 sii", to admire your horse." 
 
 The liuntsman bowed very courteously, and galloped off. 
 
 " You see, sir," said Essper George, " that my bugle has de- 
 ceived even the Jagd Junker, or Gentilhomme de la Chasse of his 
 Serene Highness the Prince of Little Lilliput himself;" so saying, 
 Essper again sounded his instrument. 
 
 " A joke may be carried too far, my good fellow," said Vivian. 
 " A true huntsman, like myself, must not spoil a brother's sport. 
 So silence your bugle." 
 
 Now again galloped up the Jagd Junker, or Gentilhomme de la 
 Chasse of his Serene Highness the Prince of Little Lilliput. He 
 pulled up his horse again, apparently as much astounded as ever. 
 
 " I thought that his Highness had been here," said the hunts- 
 man. 
 
 " No one has passed us," said Vivian. 
 
 " We heard a bugle to the right," said Essper George. 
 
 " I am afraid his Serene Highness must be in distress. The 
 whole suite are off the scent. It must have been his bugle, for 
 the regulations of this forest ai'e so strict, that no one dare 
 sound a blast but his Serene Highness." Away galloped the 
 huntsman. 
 
 " Next time I must give you up, Essper," said Vivian. 
 
 " One more blast, good master!" begged Essper, in a suppli- 
 cating voice. " This time to the left — the confusion will be then 
 complete." 
 
 " I command you not," and so they rode on in silence. But it 
 was one of those days when Essper could neitlicr be silent nor 
 subdued. Greatly annoyed at not being permitted to play his 
 bugle, he amused himself, imitating the peculiar sound of every 
 animal that life met. A young fawn and various birds already 
 followed him; and even a sq\iirrel had perched on his horse's 
 neck. And nov/ they came to a small farm-house which was 
 situated in the forest. The yard here offered great amusement 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 265 
 
 to Essper. He neighed, and half a dozen horses' heads imme- 
 diately appeared over the hedge; another neigh, and they were 
 following him in the road. A dog rushed out to seize the danger- 
 ous stranger, and recover his charge; but Essper gave an amicable 
 bark, and in a second the dog was jumping by his side, and engaged 
 in earnest and friendly conversation. A loud and continued grunt 
 soon brought out the pigs ; and meeting three or four cows return- 
 ing home, a few lowing sounds soon seduced them from keep- 
 ing their appointment with the dairy-maid. A stupid jackass, 
 who stared with astonishment at the procession, was saluted with 
 a lusty bray, which immediately induced him to swell the ranks ; 
 and as Essper passed the poultry-yard, he so deceitfully informed 
 its inhabitants that they were about to be fed, that broods of ducks 
 and chickens were immediately after him. The careful hens were 
 terribly alarmed at the danger which their offspring incurred from 
 the heels and hoofs of the quadrupeds; but while they were in 
 doubt and despair, a whole flock of stately geese issued in solemn 
 pomp from another gate of the farm-yard, and commenced a 
 cackling conversation with the delighted Essper. So contagious 
 is the force of example, and so great was the confidence which the 
 hens placed in these pompous geese, who Avere not the first fools 
 whose solemn air has deceived a few old females, that as soon as 
 they perceived them in the train of the horseman, they also trotted 
 up to pay their respects at his levee. 
 
 But it was not a moment for mirth ; for rushing down the road 
 with awful strides appeared two sturdy and enraged husbandmen, 
 one armed with a pike, and the other with a pitchfork, and ac- 
 companied by a frantic female, who never for a moment ceased 
 hallooing " Murder, rape, and fire ! " everything but " theft." 
 
 " Now, Essper, here's a pretty scrape ! " 
 
 " Stop, you rascals ! " hallooed Adolph, the herdsman. 
 
 " Stop, you gang of thieves ! " hallooed Wilhelm, the ploughman. 
 
 " Stop, you bloody murderers ! " shrieked Phillippa, the indig- 
 nant mistress of the dairy and the poultry-yard. 
 
 " Stop, you villains ! " hallooed all three. The villains certainly 
 made no attempt to escape, and in half a second the enraged 
 household of the forest farmer would have seized on Essper 
 George ; but just at this crisis he uttered loud sounds in the re- 
 spective language of every bird and beast about him ; and sud- 
 denly they all turned round, and counter-marched. Away rushed 
 the terrified Adolph, the herdsman, while one of his own cows was 
 on his back. Still quicker scampered off" the scared Wilhelm, the 
 ploughman, while one of his own steeds kicked him in his rear. 
 Quicker than all these, shouting, screaming-, shrieking, dashed 
 back the unhappy mistress of the hen-roost, with all her sub- 
 
26^6 VIVIAN GEETr. 
 
 Jects crowding albout her ; some on her elbow, some on her head, 
 her lace cap destroyed, her whole dress disordered. The move- 
 ments of the crowd were so quick that they were soon out of 
 sight. 
 
 " A trophy! " called out Essper, as he jumped off his horse, and 
 picked up the pike of Adolpli, the herdsman. 
 
 *' A boar-spear, or I am no huntsman," said Vivian — " give 
 it me a moment ! " He threw it up into the air, caught it with 
 case, poised it with the j^ractised skill of one well used to handle 
 the weapon, and with the same delight imprinted on his counte- 
 nance as greets the sight of an old friend. 
 
 " This forest, Essper, and this spear, make me remember days 
 when I was vain enough to think that I had been sufficiently 
 visited with sorrow. Ah ! liitle did I then know of human misery, 
 although I imagined I had suffered so much ! " 
 
 As he spoke, the sounds of a man in distress were heard from 
 the right side of the road. 
 
 " Who calls ?" cried Essper ; a shout was the only answer. 
 There was no path, but the underwood was low, and Vivian took 
 his horse, an old forester, across it with ease. Essper's jibbed. 
 Vivian found himself in a small green glade of about thirty feet 
 square. It was thickly surromided with lofty trees, save at tlie 
 point where he had entered ; and at the farthest corner of it, near 
 some grey rocks, a huntsman was engaged in a desperate contest 
 with a wild boar. 
 
 The huntsman Avas on his right knee, and held his spear with 
 both hands at the furious beast. It Avas an animal of extraordinary 
 size and power. Its eyes glittered like fire. On the turf to its 
 right a small grey mastiff, of powerful make, lay on its back, bleed- 
 ing profusely, with its body ripped open. Another dog, a fawn- 
 coloured bitch, had seized on the left ear of the beast ; but the 
 under-tusk of the boar, which was nearly a foot long, had pene- 
 trated the courag-coi:s dog, and the poor creature WTithed in agony, 
 even while it attempted to Avreak its revenge upon its enemy. The 
 huntsman was nearly exhausted. Had it not been for the courage 
 of "the fawn-coloured dog, which, clinging to the boar, prevented it 
 making a full dash at the man, he must have been instantly 
 gored. Vivian was off his hoi-se in a 7ninute, whifli, frightened at 
 the sight of the wild boar, dashed again over the liedge. 
 
 " Keep firm, sir ! " said he, " do not move. I will amuse him 
 behind, and make him turn." 
 
 A graze of Vivian's spear on its back, though it did not mn- 
 torially injure the beast, for there the boar is nearly invulner- 
 able, annoyed it; and dashing off the fawn-coloured dog with 
 great force, it turned on its new assailant. Now there are only 
 
VIVIAN GREV. aB7 
 
 two places in which the wild boar can be assailed with any 
 effect ; and these are just between the eyes and between the 
 shoulders. Great caution, however, is necessary in aiming' these 
 blows, for the boar is very adroit in transfixing the weapon on his 
 snout or his tusks; and if once you miss, particularly if you are 
 not assisted by dogs, which Vivian was not, 'tis all over with you ; 
 for the enraged animal rushes in like lightning, and gored you 
 must be. 
 
 But Vivian was fresh and cool. The animal suddenly stood 
 still, and eyed its new enemy. Vivian was quiet, for he had no 
 objection to give the beast an opportunity of retreating to its den. 
 But retreat was not its object — it suddenly darted at the hunts- 
 man, who, however, was not off his guard, though unable, from a 
 slight wound in his knee, to rise. Vivian again annoyed the boar 
 at the rear, and the animal soon returned to him. He made a 
 feint, as if he were about to strike his pike between its eyes. The 
 boar not feeling a wound, which had not been inflicted, and very 
 irritated, rushed at him, and he buried his spear a foot deep 
 between its shoulders. The beast made one fearful struggle, and 
 then fell down quite dead. The fawn-coloured bitch, though 
 terribly wounded, gave a loud bark ; and even the other dog, 
 which Vivian thought had been long dead, testified its triumphant 
 joy by an almost inarticulate groan. As soon as he was convinced 
 that the boar was really dead, Vivian ha.steued to the huntsman, 
 and expressed his hope that he was not seriously hurt. 
 
 " A trifle, which our surgeon, who is used to these affairs, will 
 quickly cure. — Sir! we owe you our life!" said the huntsman, 
 with great dignity, as Vivian assisted him in rising from the 
 ground. He was a tall man, of distinguished appearance ; but his 
 di*ess, which was the usual hunting costume of a German noble- 
 man, did not indicate his quality. 
 
 " Sir, we owe you our life ! " repeated the stranger ; " five 
 minutes more, and our son must have reigned in Little Lilliput." 
 
 " I have the honour, then, of addressing your Serene Highness. 
 Far from being indebted to me, I feel that I ought to apologise 
 for having so unceremoniously joined your sport." 
 
 *' Nonsense, man ! We have killed in our time too many of 
 these gentry to be .ashamed of owning that, had it not been for 
 you, one of them would at last have revenged the species. But 
 many as are the boars that we have killed or eaten, we never 
 saw a more furious or powerful animal than the present. Why, 
 sir, you must be one of the best hands at the spear in all Cliris- 
 tendom ! " 
 
 " Indifferently good, your Highness : your Highness forgets 
 that the animal was already exhausted by your assault." 
 
268 VIVIAN GEEY. 
 
 " Why, tliere is something in that ; but it was neatly clone, man 
 — it was neatly done. — You are fond of the sport, we think ?" 
 
 " I have had some practice, but illness has so weakened me that 
 I have given up the forest." 
 
 " Pity ! and on a second examination, we observe that you are 
 no hunter. This coat is not for the free forest ; but how came 
 you by the pike 1 " 
 
 " I am travelling to the next post town, to which I have sent 
 on my luggage. I am getting fast to the south ; and as for this 
 pike, my servant got it this morning from some peasant in a 
 brawl, and was showing it to me when I heard your Highness call. 
 I really think now that Providence must have sent it. I certainly 
 could not have done you much service with my riding whip. — 
 Hilloa ! Esspcr, where are you ?" 
 
 " Here, noble sir ! here, here — why what have you got there ? 
 The horses have jibbed, and will not stir — I can stay no longer — 
 they may go to the devil ! " so saying, Vivian's valet dashed over 
 the underwood, and leaped at the foot of the Prince. 
 
 " In God's name, is this thy servant ?" asked his Highness. 
 
 " In good faith, am I," said Essper ; " his valet, his cook, and his 
 secretary, all in one ; and also his Jagd Junker, or Gentilhomme de 
 la Chasse — ^as a puppy Avith a bugle horn told me this morning." 
 
 "Avery merry knave! " said the Prince ; "and talking of a puppy 
 with a bugle horn reminds us how unaccountably we have been 
 deserted to-day by a suite that never yet were wanting. We are 
 indeed astonished. Our bugle, v/e fear, has turned traitor." So 
 saying, the Prince executed a blast with great skill, which Vivian 
 immediately recognised as the one which Essper George had imi- 
 tated. 
 
 "And now, my good friend," said the Prince, "we cannot hear 
 of your passing through our land without visiting our good castle. 
 We would that we could better testify the obligation that we feel 
 under to you in any other way than by the ofier of an hospitality 
 which all gentlemen, by right, can command. But your presence 
 would, indeed, give us sincere pleasure. You must not refuse us. 
 Your looks, as well as your prowess, prove your blood ; and we 
 are quite sure no cloth-merchant's order will sufior by your not 
 hurrying to your proposed point of destination. We are not 
 wrong, we think, — though your accent is good, — in supposing that 
 we are conversing with an English gentleman. But here they 
 come." 
 
 As he spoke, three or four horsemen, at the head of whom was 
 the young huntsman whom the travellers had met in the morning, 
 sprang into the glade. 
 
 " Why, Arnelm ! " said the Prince, " when before was tlie Jagd 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 269 
 
 Junker's ear so bad that he could not discover his master's bugle, 
 even though the wind were against him ?" 
 
 "In truth, your Highness, we have heard bugles enough this 
 morning. Wlio is violating the forest laws, we know not ; but 
 that another bugle is sounding and played — St. Hubert forgive 
 me for saying so — with as great skill as your Highness,' is certain. 
 Myself, Von Neuwied, and Lintz, have been galloping over the 
 whole forest. The rest, I doubt not, will be up directly." The 
 Jagd Junker blew his own bugle. 
 
 In the course of five minutes, about twenty other horsemen, 
 all dressed in the same uniform, had arrived ; all complaining 
 of their wild chases after the Prince in every other part of the 
 forest. 
 
 "It must be the Wild Huntsman himself ! " swore an old hand. 
 This solution of the mystery satisfied all. 
 
 " Well, well ! " said the Prince ; " whoever it may be, had it not 
 been for the timely presence of this gentleman, you must have 
 changed your green jackets for mourning coats, and our bugle 
 would have sounded no more in the forest of our fathers. Here, 
 Arnelm ! — cut up the beast, — and remember that the left shoulder 
 is the quarter of honour, and belongs to this stranger, not less 
 honoured because unknown." 
 
 All present took off their caps and bowed to Vivian, who took 
 this opportunity of informing tlie Prince who he was. 
 
 " And now," continued his Highness, " Mr. Grey wiU accom- 
 pany us to om* castle ; — nay, sir, we can take no refusal. We will 
 send on to the town for your luggage. Arnelm, do you look to 
 this ! — And honest friend ! " said the Prince, turning to Essper 
 George, — "we commend you to the special care of our friend 
 Von Neuwied, — and so, gentlemen, with stout hearts and spurs to 
 your steeds — to the castle ! " 
 
 CHAPTER in. 
 
 The cavalcade proceeded for some time at a brisk but irregular 
 pace, until they arrived at a less wild and wooded part of the 
 forest. The Prince of Little Lilliput reined in his steed as he en- 
 tered a broad avenue of purple beeches, at the end of which, 
 though at a considerable distance, Vivian perceived the towers 
 and turrets of a Gothic edifice glittering in the sunshine. 
 
 " Welcome to Turriparva !" said his Highness. 
 
 " I assure your Highness," said Vivian, " that I view with no 
 unpleasant feeling the prospect of a reception in any civilised 
 mansion ; for to say the truth, for the last cight-aud-forty hours. 
 
270 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 Fortune has uot fnvoured me eitlier in my researches after a bo<li 
 or that which some think still more important than repose." 
 
 "Is it so?" said the Prince; "why, we should have thought 
 by your home thrust this morning, that you. were as fresh as the 
 early lark. In good faith, it was a pretty stroke ! And whence 
 come you, then, good sir ?" 
 
 " Know you a most insane and drunken idiot, who styles himself 
 the Grand-Duke of Johannisberger?" 
 
 "No, no!" said the Prince, staring in Vivian's face very ean- 
 ne&tly, and then laugliing. " And you have actually fallen among 
 that mad crew. A most excellent adventure! Arnelm! why, 
 man, M'here art thou ? ride up ! Behold in the person of tliis 
 gentleman a new victim to the overwhelming hospitality of our 
 uncle of the Wines. And did they confer a title on you on the 
 spot? Say, art thou Elector, or Palsgrave, or Baron ; or, failing 
 in thy devoirs, as once did our good cousin Arnelm, confess that 
 thou wert ordained with becoming reverence, the Archprimate of 
 Fuddledrink. Eh ! Arnelm, is not that the style thou bearest at 
 the Palace of the Wines?" 
 
 "So it would seem, your Highness. I think the title was con- 
 ferred on me the same night that your Highness mistook the 
 Grand-Duke's proboscis for Oberon's Horn, and committed trea^ 
 son not yet pardoned." 
 
 "Good! good!, thou ha&t us there.. Truly a good memory is 
 often as ready a friend as a sharp wit. Wit is not thy strong 
 point, friend Arnelm ; and yet it is strange, that in the sharp en- 
 counter of ready tongues and idle logomachies, thou hast some- 
 times the advantage. But, nevertheless, rest assured, good cousia 
 Arnelm, that wit is not thy strong point." 
 
 " It is well for me that all are not of the same opinion as your 
 Serene Highness," said the young Jagd Junker, somewhat nettled ; 
 for he prided himself on his repartees. 
 
 The Prince was much diverted with Vivian's account of his last 
 night's adventure ; and our hero learnt from his Highness, that his 
 late host was no less a personage than the cousin of the Prince of 
 Little Lilliput, an old German Baron, who passed his time with 
 soma neighbours of congeuial temperament, in lumting the wild 
 boar in tlie morning, and speculating on the flavours of the fine 
 Bhenish wines during the rest of the day. " He and liis com- 
 panions," continued the Prince, " will enable you to form some 
 idea of the German nobility half a century, ago. TJie debauch 
 of last night was the usual carouse which crowned the exploits of 
 each day when we were a boy. The revolution has rendered .all 
 these customs obsolete. Would that it had not sent some other 
 things equally out of fashion ! " 
 
I 
 
 VIVIAN GBEy. 271 
 
 At tjjis moment the Prince sounded liis bugle, and tlie gatea of 
 the castle, which were not more tlian twenty yards distant, wer« 
 immediately thrown open. The whole cavalcade set spurs to their 
 steeds, and dashed at full gallop over tho hollow-sounding drawr- 
 bridge, into the court-yard of the castle. A crowd of serving- 
 men, in green liveries, instantly appeared ; and Arnelm and Von 
 Ifeuwied, jumping from their saddles, respectively held the stir- 
 rup and the bridle of the Prince as he dismounted. 
 
 " Where is Master Rodolph ?" asked his Highness, with a loud 
 voice. 
 
 " So please your Serene Highness, I am here ! " answered a 
 very thin treble; and, bustling through the surrounding crowd, 
 came forward the owner of the voice. Master Rodolph was not 
 much above five feet high, but he was nearly as broad as he was 
 long. Though more than middle-aged, an almost infantile smile 
 played upon his broad fair face ; to which his small turn-up nose, 
 large green goggle eyes, and unmeaning mouth, gave no expres- 
 sion. His long hair hung over his shoulders, the flaxen locks 
 in some places maturing into grey. In compliaaice with tlie 
 taste of his master, this most unsportsman-like-looking steward 
 was clad in Sk green jerkin,, on. the right arm of which was em- 
 broidered a giant's head — the crest of the Little LilUputs. 
 
 " Truly, Eodolph, we have received some scratch in the chase to- 
 day, and need your assistance. The best of surgeons we assure 
 y-ou, Mr. Grey, if you require one :— ^and look you that the blue 
 chamber be prepared for this gentleman ; and we shall have need 
 of our Cabinet this evening. See that all this be done, and inform 
 Prince Maximilian that we would speak witli him. And look 
 you. Master Rodolph, there is one iii this company,— what call 
 you your servant's name, sir ?-^Essper George ! 'tis well : look 
 you, Rodolph, see that our friend Essper George be well provided 
 for. We know that we can trust him to your good care. And 
 now, gentlemen, at sunset we meet in tlie Giants' Hall." So 
 saying, Ms Highness bowed to the party ; and taking Vivian by 
 the arm, and followed by Arnelm and Von Neuwied, he ascended 
 a staircase which opened into the court, and then mounted into a 
 covered gallery which ran round the whole building. The inte- 
 rior wall of the gallery was alternately ornamented with stags' 
 heads or other trophies of the chase, and coats of arms blazoned 
 in stucco. The Prince did the honours of the castle to Vivian 
 with great courtesy. The armoury, and the hall, the knights* 
 cliamber, and even the doi\jon-keep, were all examined ; and when 
 Vivian had sufficiently admired the antiquity of the structure and 
 the beauty of the situation, the Prince, having proceeded down a 
 long corridor, opened the door into a small chamber, which he 
 
272 VIVIAK GREY. 
 
 iutroduced to Vivian as his Cabinet. The furniture of this room 
 was rather quaint, and not unpleasing. The wainscot and ceiling 
 were painted alike, of a very light green colour, and were richly 
 carved and gilt. The walls were hung with dark green velvet, 
 of which material were also the chairs, and a sofa, which was 
 placed under a large and curiously-cut looking-glass. The lower 
 panes of the windows of this room were of stained glass, of vivid 
 tints ; but the upper panes were untinged, in order that the light 
 should not be disturbed which fell through them upon two mag- 
 nificent pictures ; one a hunting-piece, by Schneiders, and the other 
 a portrait of an armed chieftain on horseback, by Lucas Cranach. 
 
 And now the door opened, and Master Rodolph entered, carry- 
 ing in his hand a white wand, and bowing very reverently as he 
 ushered in servants bearing a cold collation. As he entered, it 
 was with difficulty that he could settle his countenance into the 
 due and requisite degree of gravity ; and so often was the fat 
 steward on the point of bursting into laughter, as he arranged 
 the setting out of the refreshments on the table, that the Prince, 
 with whom he was at the same time both a favourite and a butt, 
 at last noticed his unusual and unmanageable risibility. 
 
 " Why, Rodolph, what ails thee ? hast thou just discovered the 
 point of some good saying of yesterday?" 
 
 The steward could now contain his laughter no longer, and he 
 gave vent to his emotion in a most treble " He ! he ! he ! " 
 
 " Speak, man, in the name of St. Hubert, and on the word of 
 as stout a huntsman as ever yet crossed horse. Speak, we say, 
 what ails thee?" 
 
 "He! he! he! in truth, a most comical knave! I beg your 
 Serene Highness ten thousand most humble pardons, but in truth 
 a more comical knave did I never see. How call you him? Essper 
 George, I think, he ! he ! he ! In truth, your Highness was right 
 when you styled him a merry knave — in truth a most comical knave 
 — he ! he ! a very funny knave ! He says, your Highness, that I 
 am like a snake in a consumption! — he! he! he! — in truth a 
 most comical knave ! " 
 
 " Well, Rodolph, so long as you do not quarrel with his jokes, 
 they shall pass as true wit. But why comes not our son ? — Have 
 you bidden the Prince Maximilian to our presence?" 
 
 " In truth have I, your Highness ; but he was engaged at the 
 moment with I\Ir. Sievers, and therefore he could not immediately 
 attend my bidding ; nevertheless, lie bade mo deliver to your Se- 
 rene Highness his dutiful aiioction; saying tliat he would soon 
 have the honour of bending his knee unto your Serene Highness." 
 
 " He never said any such nonsense. At least, if he did, he must 
 be changed since last we hunted." 
 
VIVIAN GREY, 273 
 
 *' In trutli; your Highness, I cannot aver upon my conscience as 
 a faithful steward, that such Avere the precise words and exact 
 phraseology of his Highness, the Prince IMaximilian. But in the 
 time of the good Prince, your father, whose memory be ever 
 blessed, such were the words and style of message, which I was 
 schooled and instructed by Mr. Von Lexicon, your Serene High- 
 ness' most honoured tutor, to bear unto the good Prince, your 
 father, whose memory be ever blessed, when I had the great for- 
 tune of being your Serene Highness' most particular page, and it 
 fell to my lot to have the pleasant duty of informing the good 
 Prince, your father, whose memory be ever blessed " 
 
 " Enough ! but Sievers is not Von Lexicon, and JNIaximilian, we 
 trust, is " 
 
 '•'Papa! papa! — dearest papa!" — shouted a young lad, as he 
 dashed open the door ; and rushing into the room, threw his arms 
 round the Prince's neck. 
 
 " My darling ! " said the father, forgetting at this moment of 
 genuine feeling, the pompous plural in v.'hich he had hitherto 
 spoken of himself. The Prince fondly kissed his child. The boy 
 was about ten years of age, exquisitely handsome. Coiu'age, not 
 audacity, was imprinted on his noble features. 
 
 "Papa! may I hunt with you to-morrow?" 
 
 *•' What says llv. Sievers ?" 
 
 " Oh ! IMi*. Sievers says I am excellent ; I assure you upon my 
 honour he does. I heard you come home; but though I was 
 dying to see you, I would not run out till I had finished my Roman 
 History. I say, papa! what a grand fellow Brutus was — what a 
 grand thing it is to be a patriot ! I intend to be a patriot myself, 
 and to kill the Grand-Duke of Reisenburg. Who is that?" 
 
 " My friend. Max, Mr. Grey. Speak to him." 
 
 " I am very happy to see you at Turriparva, sir," said the boy, 
 bowing to Vivian with dignity. " Have you been hunting with 
 his Highness this morning?" 
 
 " I can hardly say I have." 
 
 " Max, I have received a slight wound to-day. Do not look 
 alarmed — it is very slight. I only mention it, because, had it not 
 been for this gentleman, it is very probable you would never have 
 seen your father again. He has saved my life ! " 
 
 " Saved your life ! saved my papa's life ! " said the young Prmce, 
 seizing Vivian's hand — " Oh ! sir, what can I do for you ? Mr. 
 Sievers ! " said the boy, with eagerness, to a gentleman who entered 
 the room — "Mr. Sievers! here is a young lord who has saved 
 papa's life ! " 
 
 Mr. Sievers was a tall, thin man, about forty, with a clear sallow- 
 complexion, a high forehead, on which a few wrinkles were visible, 
 
 18 
 
27-1 VIVIAN GRET 
 
 bright keen eyes, and a quantity of grey curling hair, which was 
 combed back off his forehead, and fell down over his shouldei-s. 
 He was introduced to Vivian as the Prince's particular friend; and 
 then he listened, appai-ently with great interest, to his Highness' 
 narrative of tlie morning's adventure, his danger and his rescue. 
 Young Maximilian never took his large, dark-blue eyes off his 
 father v/hile he was speaking; and when he had finished, the boy 
 rushed to Vivian, and threw his arms round his neck. Vivian was 
 delighted with the affection of the clitld, who whispered to him in 
 a low voice — " I know what you ai-e ! " 
 
 " What, my young friend?" 
 
 "Ah! I know." 
 
 " But tell me ! " 
 
 '•' You thought I should not find out : you are a — patriot ! " 
 
 " I hope I am," said Vivian ; " but travelling in a foreign country 
 is hardly a proof of it. Perhaps you do not know that I am an 
 Englishman." 
 
 " An Englishman ! " said the child, with an air of great disap- 
 pointment; " I thought you were a patrie-t! I am one. Do you 
 know I \vill tell you a secret. You must promise not to tell, 
 though. Promise, upon your word! Well then," said the urchin, 
 whispering with great energy in Vivian's ear, througli his hollow 
 fi>t : " I hate the Grand-Duke of Reisenburg, and I mean to stab 
 him to the heart ;" so saying, the little Prince grated his teeth 
 with an expression of bitter detestation. 
 
 " What the deuce is the matter with the child ! " thought Vivian ; 
 bat at this moment his conversation with him was interrupted. 
 
 "Am I to believe this young gentleman, my dear Sievers," 
 asked the Prince, " when he tells me that his conduct has met your 
 approbation?" 
 
 "Your son. Prince," answered Mr. Sievers, "can only speak 
 "truth. His excellence is proved by my praising him to his face." 
 
 The young Maximilian, when j\Ir. Sievers had ceased speaking, 
 stood blushing, with his eyes fixed on the ground ; and the deliglited 
 parent catching his child up in his arms, embraced him with uuaf- 
 fectetl fondness. 
 
 "And now, all this time Master Eodolph is waiting for his 
 patient. Cy St. Hubert, you can none of you think me very ill ! 
 Your pardon, Mr. Grey, for leaving you. My friend Sievers will, 
 I am sure, be delighted to make you feel at ease at Turriparva. 
 I.Iax, come with me!" 
 
 Vivian found in Mr. Sievers an interesting companion ; nothing 
 of the pedant, and much of tlic pliilosophcr. Tiieir conversation 
 was of course chiefly on to])ics of local interest, anecdotes of the 
 caatle aud the country, of Vivian's friends, the drunken Johauuis- 
 
VIA-IAX GUET. 275 
 
 ber^r and bis crew, and such matters; but there was akeennesa 
 of satiit) in some of Mr. Sievers' observations which was hij^hly 
 anuising, and enoug-h passed to make Vivian desire opportunities of 
 conversing with him at greater length, and on subjects of greater 
 interest. They were at present disturbed by Essper George en- 
 tenng the room to inform Vivian that his luggage had arrived 
 from the village ; and that the blue-chamberwas now prepared for 
 his presence. 
 
 "We shall meet, I suppose, in the hall, Mr. Sievers?" 
 
 "No, I shall not dine there. If you remain at Tun-iparva, 
 which I trust you will, I shall be happy to see you in my room. 
 If it have no other inducement to gain it the. honour of your mit, 
 it has here, at least, the recommendation of singularity ; there is, 
 at any rate, no other chamber like it in this good castle." 
 
 The business of the toilet is sooner performed for ahuntiiig party 
 in a German forest, than for a state dinner at Chateau Desir ; and 
 Vivian was ready long before he was summoned. 
 
 " His Serene Highness has commenced his progress toward* the 
 hall," announced Essper George to Vivian, in a very treble voice, 
 and bowing with great ceremony as he offered to lead the way, 
 with a long white wand waving in his right hand. 
 
 ^ I shall attend his Highness," said his master ; " but before I 
 do, if that white wand be not immediately laid aside, it will be 
 broken about your back." 
 
 " Broken about my back ! what, the wand of office, sir, of your 
 steward ! Master Rodolph says that, in truth, a steward is bat 
 half himself who hath not his wand. Metbinks, when his rod of 
 office is wanting, his Highness of Lilliput's steward is but unequally 
 divided. In truth he is stout enough to be Aaron's wand, that 
 swallowed up all the rest. But has your: nobleuess really any 
 serious objection to my carrying a wand? It gives such aa 
 air ! " 
 
 The Giants' Hall was a Gothiechaniber of imposing appearance. 
 The oaken rafters of the curiously-carved roof rested on the grim 
 heads of gigantic figures of the same material. These statues 
 extended the length of the hall on each side ; they were elabo- 
 rately sculptured and highly polished, and each one held in its 
 outstretched arm a blazing and aromatic torch. Above them, 
 small windows of painted glass admitted a light which was no 
 longer necessary at the banquet to which we are now about to in- 
 troduce the reader. Over the great entrance doors was a gallery, 
 from which a band of trumpeters, arrayed in ample robes of flowing 
 scarlet, sent forth many a festive and martial strain. More than 
 fifty individuals, all Avearing hunting-dresses of green cloth, on 
 which the giant's head was carefully emblazoned, were already 
 
S76 VIVIAN GEEY. 
 
 Beated in the hall when Vivian entered. He was conducted to the 
 upper part of the chamber, and a seat was allotted him on the left 
 hand of the Prince. His Highness had not arrived, but a chair of 
 state, placed under a crimson canopy, denoted the style of its 
 absent owner ; and a stool, covered with velvet of the same regal 
 colour, and glistening with gold lace, announced that the presence 
 of Prince Maximilian was expected. While Vivian was musing in 
 astonishment at the evident affectation of royal pomp which per- 
 vaded the whole establishment of the Prince of Little Lilliput, the 
 trumpeters in the gallery suddenly commenced a triumphant 
 flourish. All rose as the princely procession entered the hall. 
 First came Master Rodolph, twirling his wdiite wand with the 
 practised pride of a drum-majoi", and looking as pompous as a 
 turkey-cock in a storm. Six footmen in splendid liveries, two by 
 two, immediately followed him. A page heralded the Prince 
 Maximilian, and then came the Serene father ; the Jagd Junker, 
 and four or live other gentlemen of the court, formed the suite. 
 
 His Highness ascended the throne, Prince Maximilian was on his 
 right, and Vivian had the high honour of the left hand ; the Jagd 
 Junker seated himself next to our hero. The table was profusely 
 covered, chiefly with the sports of the forest, and the celebrated 
 wild boar was not forgotten. Few minutes had elapsed ere Vivian 
 perceived that his Highness was always served on bended knee. 
 Surprised at this custom, which even the mightiest and most 
 despotic monarchs seldom exact, and still more surprised at the 
 contrast which all this state afforded to the natural ease and affable 
 amiability of the Prince, Vivian ventured to ask his neighbour 
 Arnelm whether the banquet of to-day was in celebration of any 
 particular event of general or individual interest. 
 
 " By no means," said the Jagd Junker ; '' this is the usual style 
 of the Prince's daily meal, except that to-day there is, perhaps, 
 rather less state and fewer guests than usual, in consequence of 
 many of our fellow-subjects having left us with the purpose of 
 attending a great hunting party, which is now holding in the do- 
 minions of his Highness' cousin, the Duke of IMicromegas." 
 
 When the more necessary, but, as most hold, the less delightful 
 part of banqueting was over, and the numerous serving-men had 
 removed tlie more numerous dishes of wild boar, red deer, kid, and 
 winged game, a stiff, Calvinistic-looking personage rose, and de- 
 livered a long and most grateful grace, to which the sturdy 
 huntsmen listened with a due mixture of piety and impatience. 
 When his starch reverence, who in his black coat looked, among 
 the huntsmen, very like (as Essper George observed) a blackbird 
 among a set of moulting canaries, had finished, an old man, with 
 long- snow-white hair, and a beard of the same coloin-, rose from 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 277 
 
 his seat, and, with a glass in his hand, bowing first to his Highness 
 with great respect, and then to his companions with an air of 
 condescension, gave, in a stout voice, " The Prince ! " A loud 
 shout was immediately raised, and all quaffed with rapture the 
 health of a ruler whom evidently they adored. Master Rodolph 
 now brought forward an immense silver goblet, full of some crafty 
 compound, from its odour doubtless delicious. The Prince held 
 the goblet by its two massy handles, and then said in a loud 
 voice : — 
 
 "My friends, the Giant's Head! and he who sneers at its frown, 
 may he rue its bristles ! " 
 
 The toast was welcomed with a loud cry of triumph. When 
 the noise had subsided, the Jagd Junker rose, and prefacing the 
 intended pledge by a few observations, as remarkable for the 
 delicacy of their sentiments as the elegance of their expression, 
 he gave, pointhig to Vivian, " The Guest ! and may the Prince 
 never want a stout arm at a strong push ! " The sentiment was 
 again echoed by the lusty voices of all present, and particularly by 
 his Highness. As Vivian shortly returned thanks, and modestly 
 apologised for the German of a foreigner, he could not refrain 
 from remembering the last time when he was placed in the same 
 situation. It was when the treacherous Lord Courtown had 
 drank success to Mr. Vivian Grey's maiden speech in a bumper of 
 claret, at the political orgies of Chateau Desir, Could he really, 
 in very fact, be the same individual as the daring youth, who then 
 organised the crazy couucils of those ambitious, imbecile grey- 
 beards ? What was he tlien ? What had happened since ? What 
 was he now ? He turned from the comparison with feelings of 
 sickening disgust, and it was with difficulty that his countenance 
 could assume the due degree of hilarity which befitted the present 
 occasion. _ 
 
 " Truly, Mr. Grey," said the Prince, " your German would 
 pass current at Weimar. Arnelra, good cousin Arnelm, we must 
 trouble thy affectionate duty to marshal and regulate the drinking 
 devoirs of our kind subjects to-night ; for by the advice of our 
 trusty surgeon. Master Rodolph, of much fame, we shall refram 
 this night from our accustomed potations, and betake ourselves to 
 the solitude of our Cabinet — a solitude in good sooth, unless we can 
 persuade you to accompany us, kind sir," said the Prince, turning 
 to Mr. Grey. " Methinks eight-and-forty hours without rest, and 
 a good part spent in the mad walls of our cousin of Johaunisber- 
 ger, are hardly the best preparatives for a drinking bout, unless, 
 after Oberon's horn, ye may fairly be considered to be in practice. 
 Nevertheless, I advise the Cabinet and a cup of Rodolph's coffee. 
 What sayest thou ? " Vivian acceded to the Prince's proposition 
 
'g¥8 VIVIAN GHEY. 
 
 Tvltli eagerness ; and accompanied by Prince Slaximilian, and pre- 
 ceded by the little steward, who, sun'ounded by his serving'-men, 
 very much resembled a planet eclipsed by his satellites, they left 
 the hall. 
 
 " 'Tis almost a pity to shut out the moon on such a night," said 
 the Prince, as he drew a large green velvet curtain from the 
 ■windows of the Cabinet. 
 
 "'Tis a magnificent night!" said Vivian; "how fine the effect 
 of the light is upon the picture of the wai-rior. Tlie horse seems 
 qtiite living, and its fierce rider actually frowns upon us." 
 
 " He may well frown," said the Prince of Little Lilliput, in a 
 voice of deep melancholy; and he hastily redrew the curtain. In 
 a moment he started from the chair on which he had just seated 
 himself, and again admitted the moonlight. " Am I really afraid 
 of an old picture ? No, no, it has not yet come to that." 
 
 This was uttered in a distinct voice, and of course excited 
 the astonishment of Vivian, who, however, had too much dis- 
 cretion to evince his surprise, or to take any measure by which his 
 curiosity might be satisfied. 
 
 His companion seemed instantly conscious of the seeming singu- 
 larity of his expression. 
 
 " You are surprised at my words, good sir," said his Highness, 
 as he paced very rapidly up and down the small ciiamber ; " you 
 are surprised at my words; but, sir, my ancestor's brow was 
 guarded by a diadem ! " 
 
 " Which was then well won. Prince, and is now worthily worn." 
 
 " By Avhom ? where ? how : " asked the Prince, in a very rapid 
 voice. *' Maximilian," continued his Highness, in a more subdued 
 tone ; " Maximilian, my own love, leave us — go to jNIr. Sievers — 
 God bless you, my only boy — good night ! " 
 
 " Good night, dearest papa, and down with the Graad-Duke of 
 Heisenburg ! " 
 
 " He echoes the foolish zeal of my fond followers," said tlic 
 Prince, as his son left the room. " The idle parade to which 
 their illegal loyalty still clings — my own manners, the relics of 
 ■former days — habits will not change like stations — all these have 
 deceived you, sir. You have mistaken me for a monarch ; I 
 should be one. A curse light o!i me the hour I can mention it 
 ^vithout a burning blush. Oh, shame ! — shame on the blood of 
 my fatlier's son ! Can my mouth own that I once M-as one ? Yes, 
 sir! you see before you the most injured, the least ennable of 
 human beings; I am a mediatised Prince!" 
 
 Vivian had resided too long in Germany to be ignorant of the 
 meaning of this title, with which, perhaps, few of our readers may 
 be acquainted. A mediatised Prince is an unliannv vicfim of tlmsft 
 
VIVIAN GEEY. 279 
 
 Congresses, Tviiich, among other good and evil, purged with great 
 effect the ancient German political system. By the regulations 
 then determined on, that country was freed at one fell swoop 
 from the vexatious and harassing dominion of the various petty 
 Princes who exercised absolute sovereignties over little nations of 
 fifty thousand souls. These independent sovereigns became sub- 
 jects ; and either swelled, by their mediatisation, the territories of 
 some already powerful potentate, or transmuted into a state of 
 importance some more fortunate petty ruler than themselve<, 
 Avhose independence, through the exertions of political intrigue or 
 fixmily influence, had been preserved inviolate. In most instance:^, 
 the concurrence of these little rulers in their worldly degradation 
 was obtained by a lavish grant of official emoluments, or increase 
 of territorial possessions; and the mediatised Prince, instead of 
 being an impoverished and uninfluential sovereign, became a 
 wealthy and powerful subject. But so dominant in the heart of 
 man is the love of independent dominion, that even with these 
 temptations, few of the petty princes could have been induced to 
 have parted with their cherished sceptres, had they not been 
 conscious, that in case of contumacy the resolutions of a Diet 
 would have been enforced by the armies of an emperor. As it is, 
 few of them have yet given up the outward and visible signs of 
 regal sway. The throne is still preserved, and the tiara still 
 revered. They seldom ft-equent the Courts of their sovereigns, 
 and scarcely condescend to notice the attentions of their fellow 
 nobility. Most of them expend their increased revenues in main- 
 taining the splendour of their little courts at their ancient capitals ; 
 or in swelling the ranks of their retainers at their solitary forest 
 castles. 
 
 The Prince of Little LiUiput was the first mediatised sovereign 
 that Vivian had ever met. At another time, and under otiier 
 circumstances, he might have smiled at the idle parade and use- 
 less pomp which he had this day witnessed, or moralised on that 
 weakness of human natirre which seemed to consider the incon- 
 venient appendages of a throne as the great end for which power 
 was to be coveted ; but at the present moment he only saw a kind, 
 and, as he believed, estimable iadividual disquieted ojid distressed. 
 It was painful to witness the agitation of the Prince ; and Vivian 
 felt it necessary to make some observations, which, from his 
 manner, expressed more than they meant. 
 
 •' Sir," said his Highness, " your sympathy consoles me. Do not 
 imagine tliat I can misunderstand it — it does you honour. You 
 add by this, to the many favours you have already conferred on 
 me, by saving my life and accepting my hospitality. I sincerely 
 hope, that your departure hence will be postponed to the last pes- 
 
280 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 aible moment. Your conversation and your company have made 
 me pass a more cheerful day than I am accustomed to. All here 
 love me ; but, Avith the exception of Sievers, I have no companion ; 
 and although I esteem his principles and his talents, there is no con- 
 geniality in our tastes or in our tempers. As for the rest, a more 
 devoted hand cannot be conceived ; but they think only of one thing 
 — the lost dignity of their ruler ; and although this concentration 
 of their thoughts on one subject may gratify my pride, it does not 
 «levate my spirits. But this is a subject on which in future we will 
 not converse. One of the curses of my unhappy lot is, tliat a 
 thousand circumstances daily occur which prevent me forgetting it." 
 
 The Prince rose from the table, and pressing with his right 
 hand on part of the wall, the door of a small closet sprung open. 
 The interior was lined with crimson velvet. He took out of it 
 a cushion of the same regal material, on which reposed, in solitary 
 magnificence, a golden coronet of antique workmanship. 
 
 " The crown of my fathers ! " said his Highness, as he placed 
 the treasure, with great reverence, on the table ; " won by fifty 
 battles and lost without a blowl Yet in my youth I was 
 deemed no dastard : and I have shed more blood for my country 
 in one day, than he who claims to be my suzerain in the whole of 
 his long career of undeserved prosperity. Ay ! this is the curse — 
 the ancestor of my present sovereign was that warrior's serf!" 
 The Prince pointed to the grim chieftain, whose stout helmet 
 Vivian nov/ perceived was encircled by a crown, similar to the one 
 which was now lying before him. " Had I been the subject — had 
 I been obliged to acknowledge the sway of a Ca)sar, I might have 
 endured it with resignation ? — had I been forced to yield to tlie le- 
 gions of an Emperor, a noble resistance might have consoled me 
 for the clanking of my chains ; but to sink without a struggle, the 
 victim of political intrigue — to become the bondsman of one who 
 •was my father's slave : for such was Reisenburg — even in my own 
 remembrance, our unsuccessful rival. This was too bad ; it 
 rankles in my heart ; and unless I can be revenged, I shall sink 
 under it. To have lost my dominions would have been nothing. 
 But revenge I will have ! It is yet in my power to gain for an en- 
 slaved people the liberty I have myself lost. Yes ! the enlightened 
 spirit of the age shall yet shake the quavering councils of the 
 Keisenburg cabal. I will, in truth I have already, seconded the just, 
 the unanswerable demands of an oppressed and insulted people : 
 ivnd ere six months are over, I trust to see the convocation of a 
 free and representative council, in the capital of the petty monarch 
 to whom I have been betrayed. The chief of Reisenburg has, in 
 his eagerness to gain his grand ducal crown, somewhat overstepped 
 the mark. 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 281 
 
 " Besides myself, there are no less than three other powerful 
 princes, whose dominions have been devoted to the formation of 
 liis servile Duchy. "We are all animated by the same spirit, — all 
 intent upon the same end. "We have all used^and are nsino:, our 
 influence as powerful nobles, to gain for our fellow-subjects their 
 withheld rights — rights M'hich belong to them as men, not merely 
 as Germans. Within this week I have forwarded to the Residence 
 a memorial subscribed by myself, my relatives, the other princes, 
 and a powerful body of discontented nobles, requesting the im- 
 mediate grant of a constitution similar to tho-e of Wirtemburg 
 and Bavaria. IMy companions in misfortune are inspirited by my 
 joining them. Had I been wise, I should have joined them sooner ; 
 but until this moment, I have been the dupe of the artful conduct 
 of an unprincipled Minister. ]\Iy eyes, however, are now open. 
 The Grand-Duke and his crafty counsellor, whose name shall not 
 profane my lips, already tremble. Part of the people, emboldened 
 by our representations, have already refused to answer an uncon- 
 stitutional taxation. I have no doubt that he must yield. What- 
 ever may be the inclination of the Courts of Vienna or St. Peters- 
 burg, rest assured that the liberty of Germany will meet with no 
 opponent except political intrigue ; and that Metternich is too well 
 acquainted with the spirit which is now only slumbering in the 
 bosom of the German nation, to run the slightest risk of exciting 
 it by the presence of foreign legions. Xo, no ! that mode of 
 treatment may do very well for Naples, or Poland, or Spain ; but 
 the moment that a Croat or a Cossack shall encamp upon the 
 Rhine or the Elbe, for the purpose of supporting the unadulterated 
 tyranny of their new-fangled Grand-Dukes, that moment Ger- 
 many becomes a great and united nation. The greatest enemy 
 of the prosperity of Germany is the natural disposition of her 
 sons ; but that disposition, while it does now, and may for ever, 
 hinder us from being a great people, will at the same time infallibly 
 prevent us from ever becoming a degraded one." 
 
 At this moment, this moment of pleasing anticipation of public 
 virtue and private revenge, Master Rodolph entered, and prevented 
 Vivian from gaining any details of the history of his host. The 
 little round steward informed his master that a horseman had just 
 arrived, bearing for his Highness a despatch of importance, which 
 he insisted upon delivering into the Prince's own hands. 
 
 '• Whence comes he ? " asked his Highness. 
 
 " In truth, your Serene Highness, that were hard to say, — inas- 
 much as the messenger refuses to inform us." 
 
 " Admit him." 
 
 A man whose jaded looks proved that he had travelled far that 
 
28JJ VIVIAN GKEY. 
 
 liny, was soon ushered into the rooiu ; and bowmj tu the Prince, 
 delivered to him, iu silence, a letter. 
 
 " From whom comes this?" asked the Prince. 
 
 " It will itself inform your Highness," was the only answer. 
 
 " My friend, you are a trusty messenger, and have been well 
 trained. Uodolph, look that this gentleman he well lodged and 
 attended." 
 
 " I thank your Highness," said the messenger, " but I do not 
 tarry here. I v/ait no ausvrer, and my only purpose in seeing you 
 v.-as to perform my commission to the letter, by delivering this 
 paper into your own hands." 
 
 "As you please, sir; you must be the best judge of your own 
 time ; but we like not strangers to leave our gates while our draw- 
 bridge is yet echoing with their entrance steps." 
 
 The Prince and Vivian were again alone. Astonishment and 
 agitation were visible on his Hi§-hness' countenance as he threw 
 his eye over the letter. At length he folded it up, put it into his 
 breast-pocket, and tried to resume conversation; but the eflbrt 
 was both evident and unsuccessful. Iu another moment the letter 
 Avas again taken out, and again read with not less emotion than 
 accompanied its first perusal. 
 
 " I fear I have Tvearied you, Mr. Grey," said his Ilighneas ; 
 "it was inconsiderate iu me not to remember that you require 
 repose." 
 
 Vivian v/as not sorry to have an opportunity of retiring, so he 
 quickly took the hint, and wished his Highness agreeable dreams. 
 
 CHAPTER rV. 
 
 No one but an adventurous traveller can know the luxury of 
 sleep. There is not a greater fallacy in the world than the com- 
 mon creed that sweet sleep is labour's guerdon. Mere reguKu-, 
 corporeal labour may certainly procure us a good, sound, refreshing 
 slumber, disturbed often by the consciousness of the monotonous 
 duties of the morrow : but how sleep the otlier great labourers of 
 this laborious world ? Where is the sweet sleep of the politician ? 
 After hours of fatigue in his office, and hours of exhaustion iu the 
 House, he gains his pillow ; and a brief, feverish night, disturbed 
 by the triumph of a cheer and the horrors of a reply. Where is 
 the sweet sleep of the poet? We all know how Jmrassing arc 
 the common dreams which are made up of incoherent images of 
 our daily life, in which the actors are individuals that we know, 
 and whose canduct generfl,lly appears to be regulated by principles 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 283 
 
 ■which wc can comprehend. How much more enervating and 
 destroying: must be the slumber of that man who dreams 'Cf an 
 imaginary world ! waking-, with a heated and excited s])irit, to 
 mourn over some impressive incident of the niglit, which is never- 
 tlieless forgotten, or to collect some inexplicable plot which has 
 been revealed in sleep, and has fled from the memory as the eyelids 
 have opened. Where is the sweet sleep of the artist? — of the 
 lawyer ? Where, indeed, of any human being to whom to-morrow 
 brings its necessary duties? Sleep is the enemy of Care, and 
 Care is the constant companion of regular labour, mental or 
 bodily. 
 
 But your traveller, your adventurous traveller — careless of the 
 future, reckless of the past — with a mind interested by the world, 
 from the immense and various character which that world presents 
 to him, and not by his own stake in any petty or particular contin- 
 gency ; wearied by delightful fiitigue, daily occasioned by varying' 
 means, and from varying causes ; with the consciousness that no 
 prudence can regulate the fortunes of the morrow, and with no 
 curiosity to discover what those fortunes may be, from a conviction 
 that it is utterly impossible to ascertain them ; perfectly easy 
 whether he lie in a mountain-hut or a royal palace.; andi-eckless^ 
 alike of the terrors and chances of storm and bandits ; seeing that 
 he has as fair a chance of meeting both with security and enjoyment ; 
 this is the fellow who, throwing himself upon a down couch or hi:i 
 mule's pack-saddle, with equal eagerness and equal sang-froid, 
 sinks into a repose, in \vhich he is never reminded by the remem- 
 brance of an appomtment or an engagement for the next day, a. 
 duel, a marriage, or a dinner, the three perils of man, that he has 
 the misfortune of being mortal ; and wakes not to combat care, but 
 only to feel that he is fresher and more vigorous than lie was the 
 night before ; and tliat come what come may, he is, at any rate,. 
 sure this day of seeing different faces, and of improvising his unpre- 
 meditated part upon a different scene. 
 
 We have now both philosophically accounted and politely apolo- 
 gised for the loud and unfashionable snore which sounded in the 
 blue chamber about five minutes after Vivian Grey had entered 
 that most comfortable apartment. In about twelve hours' time lie 
 was scolding Essper George for having presumed to wake him so 
 early, quite unconscious that he had enjoyed anything more than a 
 twenty minutes' doze. 
 
 " I should not have come in, sir, only they are all out. They 
 were off by six o'clock this morning, sir ; most part at least. TJie 
 Prince has gone ; I do not know whether he went with them, but 
 ?.Iastcr Rodolph has given me — I breakfasted with Master Rodolph^ 
 Holy Virgin ! what quarters we have got into ! " 
 
a 84 VIVTAN GEEY. 
 
 " To the point ; what of the Priuce ?" 
 
 " His Highness has left the castle, and desired Master Rodolph — 
 if your Grace had only seen Master Rodolph tipsy last nigjit : lie 
 rolled about like a turbot in a tornado." 
 
 « What of the Prince ? " 
 
 " The Prince desired this letter to be given to you, sir." 
 
 Vivian read the note, which supposed that, of course, he would 
 not wish to join the chase this morning, and regretted that the 
 writer was obliged to ride out for a few hours to visit a neighbour- 
 ing nobleman, but requested the pleasure of his guest's company at 
 a private dinner in the Cabinet, on his return. 
 
 After breakfast Vivian called on Mr. Sievers. He found that 
 gentleman busied in his library. 
 
 " You never hunt, I suppose, Mr. Sievers ? " 
 
 " Never. His Highness, I apprehend, is out this morning ; the 
 beautiful weather continues ; surely we never had such a season. 
 As for myself, I almost have given up my in-door pursuits. The 
 sun is not the light of study. Let us take our caps, aud have a 
 stroll." 
 
 The gentlemen accordingly left the library, and proceeding 
 through a different gate to that by which Vivian had entered the 
 castle, they came upon a part of the forest in which the timber 
 and brushwood had been in a great measure cleared away ; large 
 clumps of trees being left standing on an artificial lawn, and newly- 
 made roads winding about in pleasing irregularity until they were 
 all finally lost in the encircling woods. 
 
 '•' I think you told me," said Mr. Sievers, " that you had been 
 leng in Germany. What course do you think of taking from 
 here ? " 
 
 " Straight to Vienna." 
 
 " Ah ! a delightful place. If, as I suppose to be the case, you 
 are fond of dissipation and luxury, Vienna is to be pi'eferred to any 
 city with which I am acquainted. And intellectual companions are 
 not wanting there, as some have said. There are one or two 
 houses in which the literary soirees will yield to few in Europe ; and 
 I prefer them to most, because there is less pretension and more 
 ease. The Archduke John is a man of considerable talents, and 
 of more considerable acquirements. An excellent geologist ! Are 
 you fond of geology ? " 
 
 " I am not in the least acquainted with the science." 
 
 " Naturally so — at your age, if, in fact, we study at all, we are 
 fend of fancying ourselves moral philosophers, and our study is 
 mankind. Trust me, my dear sir, it is a branch of research soon 
 exhausted ; and in a few years you will be very glad, for want of 
 something else to do, to meditate upon stones. See now," said 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 285 
 
 Mr. Sievers, picking up a stone, " to what associations does this 
 little piece of quartz give rise ! I am already an antediluvian, and 
 instead of a stag bounding by that Vfood, I witness the moving 
 mass of a mammoth. I live in other worlds, Avhich, at the same 
 time, I have the advantage of comparing with the present. Geo- 
 logy is indeed a magnificent study ! What excites more the imagi- 
 nation ? What e.xercises more the reason ? Can you conceive any- 
 thing sublimer than the gigantic shadows and the grim wreck of 
 an antediluvian world ? Can you devise any plan which will more 
 brace our powers, and develope our mental energies, than the for- 
 mation of a perfect chain of inductive reasoning to account for 
 these phenomena ? What is the boasted communion which the vain 
 poet holds with nature, compared with the conversation which the 
 geologist perpetually carries on with the elemental world? Gazing 
 on the strata of the earth, he reads the fate of his species. In the 
 undulations of the mountains is revealed to him the history of the 
 past ; and in the strength of rivers, and the powers of the air, he 
 discovers the fortunes of the future. To him, indeed, that future, 
 as well as the past and the present, are alike matter for meditation : 
 for the geologist is the most satisfactory of antiquarians, the most 
 interesting of philosophers, and the most inspired of prophets ; de- 
 monstrating that which has past by discovery, that which is occur- 
 ring by observation, and that which is to come by induction. When 
 you go to Vienna I will give you a letter to Frederic Schlegel ; we 
 were fellow-students, and are friends, though for various reasons 
 •we do not at present meet ; nevertheless a letter from me will com- 
 mand respect. I would recommend you, however, before you go 
 on to Vienna, to visit Reisenburg." 
 
 " Indeed ! from the Prince's account I should have thought that 
 there was little to interest me there." 
 
 " His Highness is not an impartial judge. You are probably ac- 
 quainted with the disagreeable manner in which he is connected 
 with that Court. Far from his opinion being correct, I should say 
 there are few places in Germany more worthy of a visit than the 
 little Court near us ; and above all things my advice is that you 
 should not pass it over." 
 
 " I am inclined to follow it. You are right in supposing that I 
 am not ignorant that his Highness has tlie misfortune of being a 
 mediatised Prince ; but what is the exact story about him ? I have 
 heard some odd rumours, some " 
 
 " It is a curious story, but I am afraid you will find it rather 
 long. Nevertheless, if you really visit Reisenburg, it may be of 
 use to you to know something of the singular characters you 
 will meet there. In the first place, you say you know that Little 
 Lilliput is a mediatised Prince ; and, of course, are precisely aware 
 
•280 VIVIAN GEET. 
 
 v/liat that title means. Alx)ut fifty j-ears ago, tlie rival of tlie 
 illustrious famil}', in whose chief castle we are both of us now re- 
 fiiding, was the Margrave of Reisenburg", another petty Prince, with 
 territories not so extensive as those of our friend, and with a 
 population more limited : pei-haps fifty thousand souls, half of 
 whom were drunken cousins. The old Margrave of Reisenburg, 
 who then reigned, was a perfect specimen of the old-fashioned 
 Oerraan Prince ; he did nothing but hunt, and drink, and think of 
 the quartering-s of his immaculate shield, all duly acquired from 
 some Vandal ancestor as barbarous as himself. His little Mar- 
 graviate was misgoverned enough for a great empire. Half of 
 his nation, who were his real people, were always starving, and 
 were unable to find crowii pieces- to maintain the extravagant ex- 
 penditure of the other moiety, the cousius; who, out of gratitude 
 to their fellow-subjects for their generous support, harassed them 
 with every species of excess. Complaints were of course made to 
 the Margrave, and loud cries for justice resounded at the palace 
 gates. This Prince \vas an impartial chief magistrate ; he prided 
 himself upon his ' invariable' principles of justice, and lie allowed 
 nothing to influence his decisions. His plan for arranging- all 
 diffei'ences had the merit of being brief; and if brevity be the 
 soul of wit, it certainly was most unreasonable in his subjects to 
 consider his judgments no joke. He always counted the quarter- 
 iiigs in the shields of the respective parties, and decided accord- 
 ingly. Imagine the speedy redress gained by a miuldy-veined 
 ]ieasant against one of the cousins ; who, of course, had as many 
 <iuarterings as the Margrave himself. The defendant was regu- 
 1-irly acquitted. At length, a man's house having been burnt 
 <Iawn out of mere joke in the night, the owner had the teme- 
 rity in the morning to accuse one of the privileged, and to pro- 
 duce, at the same time, a shield witli exactly one more quartering 
 than the reigning- shield itself contained. Tho Margrave was 
 jistounded, the people in raptures, and the cousins in despair. The 
 complainant's shield was examined and counted, and not a flaw 
 discovered. What a dilemma! The chief magistrate consulted 
 •with the numerous branches of his family, and the next morning 
 the complainant's head was struck oft' for high treason, for daring 
 to have one more quartering tlian his monarch ! 
 
 "In this way they passed their time about fifty years since in 
 Reisenburg : occasionally, f(n- the sake of variety, declaring war 
 <igainst the inhabitants of Little Lillii)ut, who, to say tlie truth, in 
 their habits and pursuits did not materially difi'or from their neigli- 
 l)ours. The Margrave had one son, tlie present Grand-Duke. A. 
 due reverence of the great fnniily shield, and a full acquaintance 
 with the invariable principles of justice, were oaily instilled into 
 
VIVIAN GREV. y87 
 
 him ; and the royal stripling' made such rapid progress under 
 tlie tuition of his amiable parent, that he soon became liighly 
 popular with all his relations. At length his popularity became 
 troublesome to his father ; and so the old Margrave sent for his son 
 one morning, and informed him that he had dreamed the preceding 
 night that the air of Reisenburg was peculiarly unwholesome for 
 young pei-sons, and therefore he begged him to get out of his do- 
 minions as soon as possible. Tlie young Prince had no objection 
 to see something of the world. He flew to a relative whom he had 
 ne^-er before visited. This nobleman was one of those individuals 
 who anticipate their age, which, by-the-bye, Mr. Grey, none but 
 noblemen should do; for he who anticipates his century is gene- 
 rally pei'secuted when living, and is always pilfered when dead. 
 Howbeit, this relation was a philosopher; all about him thought 
 him mad ; he, in return, thought all about him fools. He sent the 
 Prince to an University, and gave him for a tutor a young man 
 about ten years older than his pupil. This person's name was 
 Beckendorlf. — You will hear more of him. 
 
 " About three years after the sudden departure of the young 
 Prince, the old Mai'grave his father, and the then reigning Princo 
 of Little Lilliput, shot each other through the head in a drunken 
 brawl, after a dinner given in honour of a proclamation of peace 
 between the two countries. The cousins were not much grieved, 
 as they anticipated a fit successor in their former favourite. Splen- 
 did preparations were made for the reception of the inheritor of 
 tlm family shield, anti all Pteisenburg was poured out to witness the 
 triumphant entrance of their future monarch. At last two horsemen 
 in plain dresses, and on indifferent steeds, rode up to the palace 
 gates, dismounted, and without making any inquiry, oi'dered the 
 attendance of some of the chief nobility in the presence chamber. 
 One of them, a young man, without any preparatory explnnation, 
 introduced the Reisenburg chieftains to his companion as his Prime 
 Minister ; and commanded them immediately to deliver up their 
 porte-feuilles and golden keys to Mr. Beckendorff. The nobles 
 were in dismay, and so astounded that they made no resistance ; 
 though the ne.\t morning they started in their beds, when they 
 remembered that they had delivered their insignia of office to a 
 man without a von before his name. They were soon, however, 
 roused from their sorrow and their stupor, by receiving a peremp- 
 tory order to quit the palace; and as they retired from the walls 
 which they had long considered as their own, they had the mor- 
 tilication of meeting croM'ds of the common people, their slaves 
 and their victims, hurrying with joyful countenances and triumphant 
 looks to the palace of their Prince ; in consequence of an ener- 
 getic proclamation for the redress of grievances, and an earnest 
 
288 ■ VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 promise to decide cases iu future without examining the quarter- 
 ings of the parties. In a week's time, the cousins were all adrift. 
 At length thej' conspired, but the conspiracy was tardy — they 
 foujd their former servants armed, and they joined in an unequal 
 struggle ; for their opponents were alike animated with hopes of 
 the future and with revenge for the past. The cousins got well 
 beat, and this was not the worst; for Beckendorff took advan- 
 tage of this unsuccessful treason, which he had himself fomented, 
 and forfeited all their estates ; destroying in one hour the system 
 which had palsied, for so many years, the energies of his master's 
 subjects. In time, many of the chief nobility were restored to 
 their honours and estates ; but the power with which they were 
 again invested was greatly modified, and the privileges of the 
 Commons greatly increased. At this moment the French Revolu- 
 tion broke out — the French crossed the Rhine and carried all before 
 them ; and the Prince of Little Lilliput, among other true Ger- 
 mans, made a bold but fruitless resistance. The IMai-grave of 
 Reisenburg, on the contrary, received the enemy with open arms 
 — he raised a larger body of troops than his due contingent, and 
 exerted himself in every manner to second the views of the Great 
 Nation. In return for his services, he was presented with the 
 conquered principality of Little Lilliput, and some other adjoining 
 lands ; and the Margraviate of Reisenburg, with an increased 
 territory and population, and governed with consummate wisdom, 
 began to be considered the most flourishing of the petty states in 
 the quarter of the empire to which it belonged. On the con- 
 trary, our princely and patriotic friend, mortified by the degene- 
 rate condition of his country and the prosperity of his rival house, 
 quitted Little Lilliput, and became one of those emigrant princes 
 who abounded during the first years of the Revolution in the 
 northern courts of Europe, Napoleon soon appeared upon the 
 stage ; and vanqnislied Austria, with the French dictating at the 
 gates of her capital, was no longer in a condition to support the 
 dignity of the Empire. The policy of the Margrave of Reisen- 
 burg was as little patriotic, and quite as consistent, as before. 
 Beckendorff became the constant and favoured counsellor of the 
 French Emperor. It was chiefly by his exertions that the celebrated 
 Confederation of the Rhine was carried into effect. The institu- 
 tion of this body excited among many Germans, at the time, loud 
 expressions of indignation; but I believe few impartial and 
 judicious men now look upon that league as any other tlian one 
 in the formation of which consummate statesmanship was exhibited. 
 In fact, it prevented the subjugation of Germany to France, and 
 by flattering tlie pride of Napoleon, saved the decomposition of 
 our Empire. But how this might be, it is not at present neces- 
 
VIVIAN GKEY. ' 289 
 
 sary for us to inquire. Certain it was, tliat the pupil of Becken- 
 dorif was amply repaid for the advice and exertions of his master 
 and his jNIinister ; and when Napoleon fell, the brows of the 
 former IMargrave were encircled with a Grand Ducal crown ; and 
 his Duchy, while it contained upwards of a million and a half of 
 inhabitants, numbered in its limits some of the most celebrated 
 cities in Germany, and many of Germany's most flourishing 
 provinces. But Napoleon fell. The Prince of Tjittle Lilliput and 
 his companions in patriotism and misfortune returned from their 
 exile, panting' with hope and vengeance. A Congress was held to 
 settle the aflairs of agitated Germany. Where was the Grand- 
 Duke of Reisenburg ? His hard-earned crown tottered on his 
 head. Where was his crafty Minister, the supporter of revolu- 
 tionary France, the friend of its Imperial enslaver, the constant 
 enemy of the House of Austria .•' At the very Congress which, 
 according to the expectations of the exiled Princes, was to restore 
 them to their own dominions, and to reward their patiiotic loyalty 
 with the territories of their revolutionary brethren ; yes ! at this 
 very Congress was Beekendorfif; not as a suppliant, not as a 
 victim, but seated at the right hand of Metternich, and watching, 
 with parental affection, the first interesting and infantile move- 
 ments of that most prosperous of political bantlings, the Holy 
 Alliance. You may well imagine that the military Grand-Duke 
 had a much better chance in political negotiation than the emigrant 
 Prince. In addition to this, the Grand-Duke of Reisenburg had 
 married, during the war, a Princess of a powerful House ; and 
 the allied Sovereigns were eager to gain the future aid and 
 constant co-operation of a mind like Beckendorff's. The Prince of 
 Little Lilliput, the patriot, was rewarded for his conduct by being 
 restored to his forfeited possessions ; and the next day he became 
 the subject of his former enemy, the Grand-Duke of Reisenburg, 
 the traitor. What think you of Monsieur Beckendorff ?" 
 
 *•' One of the most interesting characters I have long heard of. 
 But his pupil appears to be a man of mind." 
 
 " You shall hear. I should, however, first mention, that while 
 Beckendorff has not scrupled to resort to any measures, or adopt 
 any opinions in order to further the interests of his monarch and 
 his country, he has in every manner shown that personal aggran- 
 disement has never been his object. He lives in perfect retire- 
 ment, scarcely with an attendant, and his moderate official stipend 
 amply supports his more moderate expenditure. The subjects of 
 the Grand-Duke may well be grateful that they have a Minister 
 without relations and without favourites. The Grand-Duke is, 
 unquestionably, a man of talents ; but at the same time, perhaps, 
 one of the most weak^niuded men that ever breathed. He was 
 
 19 
 
990 VIVIAX GREY. 
 
 fortunate in meeting with Beckendorff early in life ; and as the 
 influence of the Minister has not for a moment ceased over the 
 mind of the Monarch, to the world the Grand-Duke of Reisen- 
 burg has always appeared to be an individual of a strong mind 
 and consistent conduct. But when you have lived as much and 
 as intimately in his Court as I have done, you will find how easily 
 the world may he deceived. Since the close connection which now 
 exists between Reisenburg and Austria took place, Beckendorff 
 has, in a great degree, revived the ancient privileges of blood and 
 birth. A Minister who has sprung from the i>eople will always 
 conciliate the aristocracy. Having no family influence of his 
 own, he endeavours to gain the influence of othei's ; and it often 
 happens that merit is never less considered, than when merit has 
 made the Minister. A curious instance of this occurs in a neigh- 
 bouring State. There the Premier, decidedly a man of great 
 talents, is of as humble an origin as Beckendorff. With no family 
 to uphold him, he supports himself by a lavish division of all the 
 places and patronage of the state among the nobles. If the 
 younger son or brother of a peer dare to sully his oratorical virginity 
 by a chance observation in the Lower Chambei", the Minister, 
 himself a real orator, immediately rises to congratulate, in pompous 
 phrase, the House and the country on the splendid display which 
 has made this night memorable ; and on the decided advantages 
 which must accrue both to their o-ivn resolutions and the national 
 interests, from the future participation of his noble friend in their 
 deliberations. All about him are young nobles, quite unfit for 
 the discharge of their respective duties. His private secretary 
 is unable to coin a sentence, almost to direct a letter, but he is 
 noble ! — The secondary officials cannot be trusted even in the 
 least critical conjunctures, but tlioy are noble ! — And the Prime 
 Minister of a powerful empire is forced to rise early and be up 
 late ; not to meditate on the present fortunes or future destinies 
 of his country, but by his personal exertions to compensate for 
 the inefficiency and expiate the blunders of his underlings, whom 
 his unfortunate want of blood has forced him to overwhelm with 
 praises which they do not deserve, and duties which they cannot 
 discharge. I do not wish you to infer that the policy of Becken- 
 dorff has been actuated by tlie feelings which influence the Mi- 
 nister whom I have noticed, from whose conduct in this veiy respect 
 his own materially differs. On the contrary, his connection with 
 Austria is in all probability the primary great cause. However 
 this may be, certain it is, that f.ll ofiices about the Court and con- 
 nected with the army (and 1 need not remind you, tliat at a small 
 German Court these situations are often the most important in 
 the State) can only be filled by the nobility; nor can any person 
 
VIVIAN GKEY. 291 
 
 who has the misfortune of not inheriting the magical monosyllable 
 von before his name, the shibboleth of nobility, and the symbol of 
 territoriiil pride, violate by their unhallowed presence tlie sanctity 
 of Court dinners, or the as sacred ceremonies of a noble fete. But 
 while a monopoly of those offices which for their due performance 
 require only a sho\vy exterior or a schooled address, is granted to 
 the nobles, all those State charges which require the exercise of 
 intellect are now chiefly filled by the bourgeoisie. At the same 
 time, however, that both our Secretaries of State, many of our 
 privy Councillors, war Councillors, forest Councillors, and finance 
 Councillors, are to be reckoned among the second class, still not 
 one of these exalted individuals, who from their situations are ne- 
 cessarUy in constant personal communication with the Sovereig'n, 
 ever see that Sovereign except in his Cabinet and his Council- 
 chamber. Beckendorff himself, the Premier, is the son of a pea- 
 sant ; and of course not noble. Nobility, which has been pi'ofiFered 
 him, not only by his own monarch, but by most of the sovereigns 
 of Europe, he has invariably refused ; and consequently never ap- 
 pears at Court. The truth is, that, from disposition, he is little 
 iuchned to mix with men ; and he has taken advantage of his want 
 of an escutcheon completely to exempt himself from all those 
 duties of etiquette which his exalted situation would otherwise 
 have imposed upon him. None can complain of the haughtiness of 
 the nobles, when, ostensibly, the Minister himself is not exempted 
 from their exclusive regulations. "If you go to Reisenburg, you 
 will not therefore see Beckendorff, who lives, as I have mentioned, 
 in solitude, about thirty miles from the capital ; communicating 
 only with his Royal master, the foreign Ministers, and one or two 
 ofacial characters of his own country. I was myself an inmate of 
 the Court for upwards of two years. During that time I never 
 saw the Minister ; and, with the exception of some members of 
 the royal family, and the characters I have mentioned, I never 
 knew one person who had even caught a glimpse of the individual 
 who may indeed be said to be regulating their destinies. 
 
 " It is at the Court, then," continued Mr. Sievers, " when he is 
 no longer under the control of Beckendorff, and in those minor 
 points which are not subjected to the management or influenced 
 by the mind of the ^Minister, that the true character of the Grand- 
 Duke is to be detected. Indeed it may really be said, that the 
 weakness of his mind has been the origin of his fortune. In hi:* 
 early youth, his pliant temper adapted itself without a struggle t'» 
 the barbarous customs and the brutal conduct of his father's 
 Court : that same pliancy of temper prevented him opposing with 
 bigoted obstinacy the exertions of his relation to educate and 
 civilise him ; that same pliancy of temper allowed him to become 
 
292 VIVIAN GPJCY. 
 
 the ready and the enthusiastic disciple of Beckendorff. Had the 
 pupil, when he ascended the throne, left his master behind him, it 
 is very probable that his natural feelings would liave led him to 
 oppose the French ; and at this moment, instead of being- the first 
 of the second-rate powers of Germany, the Grand-Duke of Rei- 
 senburg might himself have been a mediatised Prince. As it was, 
 the same pliancy of temper Avhich I have noticed, enabled him to 
 receive Napoleon, when an Emperor, with outstretched arms ; and 
 at this moment does not prevent him from receiving, with equal 
 rapture, the Imperial Arch-Duchess, who will soon be on her road 
 from Vienna to espouse his son — for, to crown his career, Becken- 
 dorfi" has successfully negotiated a marriage between a daughter of 
 the House of Austria and the Crown Prince* of Reisenburg. It is 
 generally believed that the next step of the Diet will be to trans- 
 mute the father's Grand-Ducal coronet into a Regal crown ; and per- 
 haps, my good sir, before you reachVienna, you may have the supreme 
 honour of being presented to his IMajesty the King of Reiseuburg." 
 
 " But when you talk only of the pupil's pliancy of temper, am 
 I to suppose, that in mentioning his talents you were speaking 
 ironically?" 
 
 '•'By no means! The Grand-Duke is a scholar; a man of 
 refined taste, a patron of the fine arts, a lover of literature, a 
 promoter of science, and what the world would call a philosopher. 
 His judgment is sound, and generally correct — his powers of dis- 
 crimination acute — and his knowledge of mankind greater than 
 that of most sovereigns ; but with all these advantages, he is cursed 
 with such a v.averiug and indecisive temper, that when, which is 
 usually the case, he has come to a right conclusion, he can 
 never prevail upon himself to carry his theory into practice; 
 and with all his acuteness, his discernment, and his knowledge of 
 the world, his mind is always ready to receive any impression 
 from the person who last addresses him, though he himself be 
 fully aware of the inferiority of his adviser's intellect to his 
 own, or the imperfection of that adviser's knowledge. Never 
 for a moment out of the sight of Beckendorff, the royal pupil has 
 made an admirable political puppet, since his talents have always 
 enabled him to understand the part which the Minister had forced 
 him to perform. Thus the world has given the Grand-Duke 
 credit, not only for the possession of great talents, but almost for 
 as much firmness of mind and decision of character as his IMinister. 
 But since his long-agitated career has become calm and tranquil, 
 
 • Heredilanj Prince is the correct st^-le of the eldest son of a German 
 Granil-Duke. I have not iised a title which would not be understood by 
 the English reader. Crown Prince is also a German title ; but, in strict- 
 ness, only assumed by the son of a King. 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 29 O 
 
 find BeckendorfF, like a guardian spirit, has ceased to be ever at 
 liis elbow, the character of the Grand-Duke of Reisenburg begins 
 to be understood. His Court has been, and still is, frequented by 
 all the men of genius in Germany, who are admitted without 
 scruple, even if they be not noble. But the astonishing thing is, 
 that the Grand-Duke is always surrounded by every species of 
 political and philosophical quack that you can imagine. Dis- 
 cussions on a free press, on the reformation of the criminal code, 
 on the abolition of commercial duties, and such like interminable 
 topics, are perpetually resounding within the palace of this arbi- 
 trary Prince ; and the people, fired by the I'epresentations of the 
 literary and political journals with which Reisenburg abounds, and 
 v/hose bold speculations on all subjects elude the vigilance of the 
 censor, by being skilfully amalgam.ated with a lavish praise of the 
 royal character, are perpetually flattered with the speedy hope of 
 becoming freemen. Suddenly, when all are expecting the grant 
 of a charter or the institution of Chambers, Mr. Beckendorff rides 
 up from his retreat to the Residence, and the next day the whole 
 crowd of philosophers are swept from the royal pi'esence, and the 
 censorship of the press becomes so severe, that for a moment you 
 would fancy that Reisenburg, instead of being, as it boasts itself, 
 the modern Athens, had more right to the title of the modern 
 Bceotia. The people, who enjoy an impartial administration of 
 equal laws, who have flourished, and are flourishing, under the 
 wise and moderate rule of their new monarch, have in fact no 
 inclination to exert themselves for the attainment of constitutional 
 liberty, in any other way than by their voices. Their barbarous 
 apathy astounds the philosophes ; who, in despair, when the people 
 tell them that they are happy and contented, artfully remind them 
 that their happiness depends on the will of a single man ; and that, 
 though the present character of the monarch may guai-antee 
 present felicity, still they should think of their children, and not 
 less exert themselves for the insurance of future. These repre- 
 sentations, as constantly reiterated as the present system will allow, 
 have at length produced an effect; and political causes of a 
 peculiar nature, combining their influence with these philosophical 
 exertions, have of late frequently frightened the Grand-Duke, 
 ■who, in despair, would perhaps grant a Constitution, if Becken- 
 dorff' would allow him. But the Minister is conscious that the 
 people would not be happier, and do not in fact require one : he 
 looks with a jealous and an evil eye on the charlatanism of all 
 kinds which is now so prevalent at Court: he knows, from the 
 characters of many of these philosophers and patriots, that their 
 private interest is generally the secret spring of their public 
 virtue ; that if the Grand-Duke, moved by their entreaties or 
 
294 VIVIAN GIIEY. 
 
 seduced by their flattery, were to yield a little, he would soon be 
 obliged to graut aU, to their demands and their threats; and 
 finally, Beckendorfi' has, of late years, so completely interwoven 
 the policy of Reiseuburg with that of Austria, that he feels that 
 the rock on which he has determined to found the greatness of his 
 country must be quitted for ever, if he jield oue jot to the caprice 
 or the weakness of his monarch." 
 
 " But Beckeudorff,'' said Vivian ; " why can he not crush in the 
 bud the noxious plant which he so much dreads ? Why does the 
 press speak in the least to the people ? Why is the Grand-Duke 
 surrounded by any others except pompous Grand Marshals, and 
 empty-headed Lord Chamberlains? I am surprised at this in- 
 diflerence, this want of energy ! " 
 
 '■' My dear sir, there are reasons for all things. Rest assured 
 that Beckendorif is not a man to act incautiously or weakly. The 
 Grand-Duchess, the mother of the Crown Prince, has been long 
 dead. Beckendorff, who, as a man, has the greatest contempt for 
 women — as a statesman, looks to them as the most precious of 
 political instruments — it was his wish to have married the Grand- 
 Duke to the young Princess, who is now destined for his sou ; but, 
 for once in his life, he failed in influencing his pupil. The truth 
 was, and it is to this cause that we must trace the present dis- 
 organised state of the Court, and indeed of the Duchy, that the 
 Grand-Duke had secretly married a lady to whom he had long 
 been attached. This lady was a Countess, and his subject; and, 
 as it was impossible by the laws of the kingdom that any one but 
 a member of a reigning family could be allowed to share the 
 throne, his Royal Highness had recourse to a plan which is not 
 uncommon in this country, and espoused the lady with his left 
 hand. The ceremony, which we call here a morganatic mamage, 
 you have, probably, heard of before. The favoured female is, to 
 all intents and purposes, the wife of the monarch, and shares 
 everything except his throne. She presides at Court, but neither 
 she nor her children assume the style of majesty, although, in 
 some instances, the latter have been created princes, and acknow- 
 ledged as heirs apparent, when there has been a default in the 
 lineal royal issue. The lady of whom we are speaking, according 
 to the usual custom, has assumed a name derivative from that of 
 her royal husband; and, as the Grand-Duke's name is Charles, 
 she is styled Madame Carolina." 
 
 " And what kind of lady is ^Madame Carolina ? " asked Vivian. 
 
 " Philosophical ! piquant ! Parisian ! — a genius, according to 
 her friends; who, as in fact she is a Queen, are of course the 
 whole world. Though a German by family, she is a Frenchwoman 
 by birtli. Educated in the spiritual saloons of the French metro- 
 
VIVIAN GEET. 295 
 
 polis, she lias early imbibed superb ideas of the perfectibility of 
 mau, and of the ' science' of conversation, on both vrhich subjects 
 you will not be long at Court ere you hear her descant ; demon- 
 strating' by the brilliaucy of her ideas the possibility of tlie one, 
 and by the fluency of her language her acquaintance with the 
 other. She is much younger than her husband, and, though not 
 exactly a model for Phidias, a most fascinating woman. Variety 
 is the talisman by which she commands all hearts, and gained her 
 monarch's. She is only consistent in being delightful ; but, though 
 changeable, she is not capricious. Each day displays a new accom- 
 plishment, as regularly as it does a new costume ; but as the ac- 
 quirement seems only valued by its possessor as it may delight 
 others, so the dress seems M'orn, not so much to gratify her own 
 vanity, as to please her friends' tastes. Genius is her idol ; and 
 with her, genius is found in everything. She speaks in equal 
 raptures of an opera dancer, and an epic poet. Her ambition is to 
 converse on all subjects; and by a judicious management of a 
 great mass of miscellaneous reading, and by inde&tigable exer- 
 tions to render herself mistress of the prominent points of the 
 topics of the day, she appears to converse on all subjects with 
 ability. She takes the liveliest interest in the progress of mind, 
 in all quarters of the globe ; and imagines that she should, at the 
 same time, immortalise herself and benefit her species, could she 
 only establish a Quarterly Review in Ashantee, and a scientific 
 Oazette at Timbuctoo. Notwithstanding her sudden elevation, no 
 one has ever accused her of arrogance, or pride, or ostentation. 
 Her liberal principles, and her enlightened views, are acknow- 
 ledged by all. She advocates equality in her circle of privileged 
 nobles; and is enthusiastic on the rights of man, in a country 
 where justice is a favour. Her boast is to be surrounded by men 
 of genius, and her delight to cori-espond with the most celebrated 
 persons of all countries. She is herself a literary character of no 
 mean celebrity. Few months have elapsed since enraptured Reisen- 
 burg hailed, from her glowing pen, two neat octavos, bearing the 
 title of ' Memoirs of the Court of Charlemagne,' which give an 
 interesting and accurate picture of the age, and delight the modern 
 public with vivid descriptions of the cookery, costume, and conver- 
 sation of the eighth century. You smile, my friend, at Madame 
 Carolina's production. Do not you agree with me, that it re- 
 quires no mean talent to convey a picture of the bustle of a levee 
 during the middle ages? Conceive Sir Oliver looking in at his 
 club ! and fancy the small talk of Roland during a morning visit ! 
 Yet even the fame of this work is to be eclipsed by Madame's 
 forthcoming quarto of ' Haroun al Raschid and his Times.' This, 
 it is whispered, is to be a chef-d'oeuvre, enriched by a chronological 
 
296 VIVIAN GEEY. 
 
 arrangement, by a celebrated oriental scholar, of all the anecdotes 
 in the Arabian Nights relating to the Caliph. It is, of course, the 
 sun of Madame's patronage that has hatched into noxious hfe the 
 swarm of sciolists Avho now infest the Court, and who are sapping 
 the husband's political power, while they are establishing the wife's 
 literary reputation. So much for Madame Carolina ! I need hardly 
 add, that during your short stay at Court you will be delighted 
 with her. If ever you know her as well as I do, you will find 
 her vain, superficial, heartless : her sentiment — a system : her 
 enthusiasm — exaggeration ; and her genius — merely a clever 
 adoption of the profundity of others." 
 
 " And Beckendorff" and the lady ai-e not friendly ? " asked Vivian, 
 who was delighted with his communicative companion. 
 
 " Beckendorff's is a mind that such a woman cannot compre- 
 hend. He treats her with contempt, and, if possible, views her 
 with hatred ; for he considers that she has degraded the character 
 of his pupil : while she, on the contrary, wonders by what magic 
 spell he exercises such influence over the conduct of her husband. 
 At first, Beckendorff treated lier and her circle of illimiinati with 
 contemptuous silence ; but, in politics, nothing is contemptible. 
 The Minister, knowing that the people were prosperous and happy, 
 cared little for projected constitutions, and less for metaphysical 
 abstractions ; but some circumstances have lately occurred, which, 
 I imagine, have convinced him that for once he has miscalculated. 
 After the arrangement of the German States, when the Princes 
 were first mediatised, an attempt was made, by means of a 
 threatening league, to obtain for these political victims a very 
 ample share of the power and patronage of the new State of 
 Reisenburg. This plan failed, from the lukcAvarmness and in- 
 decision of our good friend of Little Lilliput; wlio, between 
 ourselves, was prevented from joining the alliance by tlie in- 
 trigues of Beckendorff". Beckendorff secretly took measures that 
 the Prince should be promised, that in case of his keeping back- 
 ward he should obtain more than would fall to his lot by leading 
 the van. The Prince of Little Lilliput and his peculiar friends 
 accordingly were quiet, and the attempt of the other chieftains 
 failed. It was then that his Highness found he had been duped. 
 Beckendorft" would not acknowledge the authority, and, of course, 
 did not redeem the pledge, of liis agent. The effect that this affair 
 produced upon the Prince's mind you can conceive. Since then, 
 he has never frequented Reisenburg, but constantly resided either 
 at his former Capital, now a provincial town of the Grand Duchy, 
 or at this castle ; viewed, you may suppose, with no very cordial 
 feeling by his companions in misfortune. But the thirst of revenge 
 will inscribe the bitterest enemies ia the same muster-roll, and the 
 
VIVIAN GEET. 297 
 
 Princes, incited by the bold carriage of Madame Carolina's philo- 
 sophical proteges, and induced to believe that Beckendorff's power 
 is on the wane, have again made overtures to our friend, without 
 whose powerful assistance they feel that they have but little chance 
 of success. Observe how much more men's conduct is influenced 
 by circumstances than principles! When these persons leagued 
 together before, it was with the avowed intention of obtaining a 
 share of the power and patronage of the State : the great body 
 of the people, of course, did not sympathise in that, which, after 
 all, to them was a party quarrel ; and by the joint exertions of 
 open force and secret intrigue the Court triumphed. But now, 
 these same individuals come forward, not as indignant Princes de- 
 manding a share of the envied tyranny, but as ardent patriots ad- 
 vocating a people's rights. The public, though I believe that in 
 fact they will make no bodUy exertion to acquire a constitutional 
 freedom, the absence of which they can only abstractedly feel, 
 have no objection to attain that whicii they are assured will not 
 injure their situation, provided it be by the risk and exertions of 
 others. So far, therefore, as clamour can support the Princes, 
 they have the people on their side ; and as upwards of three hun- 
 dred thousand of the Grand-Ducal subjects are still living on their 
 estates, and still consider themselves as their serfs, they trust that 
 some excesses from this great body may incite the rest of the 
 people to similar outrages. The natural disposition of mankind 
 to imitation, particularly when the act to be imitated is Popular, 
 deserves attention. The Court is divided; for the exertions of 
 Madame, and the bewitching influence of Fashion, have turned the 
 heads even of grey-beards : and to give you only one instance, his 
 Excellency the Grand Marshal, protege of the House of Austria, 
 and a favourite of Metternich, the very person to whose interests, 
 and as a reward for whose services, our princely friend was sacri- 
 ficed by the Minister, has now himself become a pupil in the school 
 of modern philosophy, and drivels out, with equal ignorance and 
 fervour, enlightened notions on the most obscure subjects. In the 
 midst of all this confusion, the Grand-Duke is timorous, dubious, 
 and uncertain. Beekendorfi" has a difficult game to play ; he may 
 fall at last. Such, my dear sir, are the tremendous consequences 
 of a weak Prince marrying a blue-stocking!" 
 
 " And the Crown Prince, Mr. Sievers, how does he conduct 
 himself at this interesting moment ? or is his mind so completely 
 engrossed by the anticipation of his Imperial alliance, that he has 
 no thought for anything but his approaching bride ? '"' 
 
 "' The Crown Prince, my dear sir, is neither thinking of his 
 bride, nor of anything else : he is a hunch-backed idiot. Of his 
 deformities I have myself been a witness ; and though it is difficult 
 
298 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 to give an opinion of the intellect of a being with whom yon have 
 never interchanged a syllable, nevertheless hi.? countenance does 
 not contradict the comraon creed. I say the common creed, Mr. 
 Grey, for there are moments when the Crown Prince of Eeisen- 
 burgis spoken of by his future subjects in a very diflerent manner. 
 Whenever any unpopular act is committed, or any unpopular plan 
 suggested by the Court or the Grand-Duke, then whispers are im- 
 mediately afloat that a future Brutus must be looked for in their 
 Prince : then it is generally undei'stood that his idiocy is only 
 assumed; and what woman does not detect, in the glimmei-ings of 
 his lack-lustre eye, the vivid sparks of suppressed genius! — In a 
 short time the cloud blows over the Court ; dissatisfaction disap- 
 pears ; and the moment that the mouarch is again popular, the un- 
 fortunate Crown Prince again becomes the uninfluemial object of 
 pity or derision. All immediately forget that his idiocy is only as- 
 sumed ; and what woman ever ceases from deploring the unhappy 
 lot of the future wife of their inipuissant Prince ! — Such, my dear 
 sir, is the way of mankind ! At the first glance it would appear, that 
 in this world, monarchs, on the whole, have it pretty Avell their own 
 way ; but reflection will soon enable us not to en\'y their situations : 
 and speaking as a father, which uufortuuately I am not, should I 
 not view vfith. disgust that lot in life v.'hich necessarily makes my 
 son — my enemy? The Crown Prince of all countries is only a 
 puppet in the hands of the people, to be played against his own 
 father." 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 TiiE Prince returned home at a late hour, and immediately in- 
 quired for Vivian. During dinner, which he hastily dispatched, it 
 did not escape our hero's attention that his Highness was un- 
 usually silent and, indeed, agitated. 
 
 " When we have finished our meal, my good friend," at length 
 said the Prince, " I very much wish to consult with you on a most 
 important business." Since' the explanation of last night, the 
 Prince, in private conversation, had dropped his regal plural. 
 
 " I am ready at once," said Vivian. 
 
 " You will think it very strange, Mv. Grey, when you become 
 acquainted witli the nature of my communication ; you will justly 
 consider it most strange — most singular — that I should choose for 
 a confidante and a counsellor in an important business, a gentleman 
 with whom I have been acquainted so short a time as yourself. 
 But, sir, I have well weighed, at least I have endeavoured well to 
 weigh, all the circumstances and contingencies which such a con- 
 
AIVIAX CrtEY. 399 
 
 fideuce would involve ; and the result of my reflection is, that I 
 will look to you as a friend and adviser, feeling- assured that both 
 from your situation and your disposition, uo temptation exists which 
 can induce you to betray or to deceive me." Though the Prince 
 said this with an appearance of perfect sincerity, he stopped and 
 looked very earnestly in liis guest's face, as if he would read his 
 secret thoughts, or were desirous of now giving him an opportunity 
 of answering. 
 
 " So far as the certainty of your confidence being respected," an- 
 swered Vivian, " I trust your Highness may communicate to me 
 with the most assured spirit. But while my ignorance of men and 
 affairs in this country will ensure you from any treachery on my 
 part, I very much fear that it will also preclude me from affording 
 you any advantageous advice or assistance." 
 
 " On that head," replied the Prince, '• I am of course the best 
 judge. The friend whom I need is a man not ignorant of the world, 
 with a cool head and an impartial mind. Though young, you have 
 said and told me enough to prove that you are not unacquainted 
 with mankind. Of your courage, I have already had a convincing 
 proof. In the business in which I require your assistance, freedom 
 from national prejudices will materially increase the value of your 
 advice ; and therefore I am far from being unwilling to consult a 
 person ignorant, according to your own phrase, of men and affairs 
 in this country. Moreover, your education as an Englishman has 
 early led you to exercise your mind on political subjects ; and it is 
 in a political business that I require your aid." 
 
 " Am I fated always to be the dry nurse of an embryo faction ! " 
 thought Vivian ; and he watched earnestly the countenance of the 
 Prince. In a moment he expected to be invited to become a coun- 
 sellor of the leagued Princes. Either the lamp was burning dim, 
 or the blazing wood fire had suddenly died away, or a mist was over 
 Vivian's eyes ; but for a moment he almost imagined that he was 
 sitting opposite his old friend, the Marquess of Carabas. The 
 Prince's phrase had given rise to a thousand agonising associations : 
 in an iastant Vivian had worked up his mind to a pitch of nervous 
 excitement. 
 
 " Political business ? " said Vivian, in an agitated voice. " Ycu 
 could not address a more unfortunate person. I have seen. Prince, 
 too much of politics, ever to wish to meddle with them again." 
 
 " You are too quick, my good friend," continued his Highness. 
 " I may wish to consult you on political business, and yet have no 
 intention of engaging you in politics — which indeed is quite a 
 ridiculous idea. But I see that I was right in supposing that these 
 subjects have engaged your attention." 
 
 " I have seen, in a short time, a great deal of the political world," 
 
300 VIVIAN GRET. 
 
 answered Vivian, who was almost ashamed of his previous emotion ; 
 "and I thank heaven daily, that I have no chance of again having 
 any connection with it." 
 
 " Well, well ! — that as it may be. Nevertheless, your experience 
 is only another inducement to me to request your assistance. Do 
 not fear that I wish to embroil you in politics ; but I hope you will 
 not refuse, although almost a stranger, to add to the very great 
 obligations which I am already under to you, and give me the 
 benefit of your opinion." 
 
 " Your Highness may speak with perfect unreserve, and reckon 
 upon my delivering my genuine sentiments." 
 
 " You have not forgotten, I venture to believe," said the Prince, 
 " our short conversation of last night ? " 
 
 " It was of too interesting a nature easily to escape my memory." 
 
 " Before I can consult you on the subject which at present in- 
 terests me, it is necessary that I sliould make you a little acquainted 
 with the present state of public affairs here, and the characters of 
 the principal individuals who control them." 
 
 " So far as an account of the present state of political parties, 
 the history of the Grand-Duke's career, and that of his Minister 
 Mr. Beckendorff, and their reputed characters, will form part of 
 your Highness' narrative, by so much may its length be curtailed, 
 and your trouble lessened ; for I have at different times picked up, 
 iu casual conversation, a great deal of information on these topics. 
 Indeed, you may address me, in this respect, as ybu would any 
 German gentleman, who, not being himself personally interested in 
 public life, is of course not acquainted with its most secret details." 
 
 "I did not reckon on this," said the Prince, in a cheerful 
 voice. " This is a great advantage, and another reason that I 
 should no longer hesitate to develope to you a certain affair which 
 now occupies my mind. To be short," continued the Prince, " it 
 is of the letter which I so mysteriously received last night, and 
 which, as you must have remarked, very much agitated me, — it is 
 on this letter that I wish to consult you. Bearing iu mind 
 the exact position — the avowed and public position — in which I 
 stand, as connected with the Court ; and having a due acquaint- 
 ance which you state you have, with the character of INIr. Becken- 
 dorff", what think you of this letter ?" 
 
 So saying, the Prince leant over the table, and handed to Vivian 
 the following epistle. 
 
 "to his highness the prince of little lilliput. 
 
 " I am commanded by his Royal Highness to inform your High- 
 ness, that his Royal Highness has considered the request which was 
 signed by your Highness and other noblemen, and presented by 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 301 
 
 you to hi3 Royal Highness in a private inierview. His Royal 
 Highness commands me to state, that that request will receive his 
 most attentive consideration. At the same time, his Royal High- 
 ness also commands me to ohserve, that in bring'ing about the com- 
 pletion of a result desired by all parties, it is difficult to carry on 
 the necessary communications merely by written documents ; and 
 his Royal Highness has therefore commanded me to submit to 
 your Highness the advisability of taking some steps in order to 
 further the possibility of the occurrence of an oral interchange 
 of the sentiments of the respective parties. Being aware, from 
 the position which your Highness has thought proper at present 
 to maintain, and from other causes wliich are of too delicate 
 a nature to be noticed in any other way except by allusion, that 
 your Highness may feel difficulty in personally communicating with 
 his Royal Highness, without consulting the wishes and opinions of 
 the other Princes ; a process to which, it must be evident to your 
 Highness, his Royal Highness feels it impossible to submit ; and, 
 at the same time, desirous of forwarding the progress of those 
 views which his Royal Highness and your Highness may conjunc- 
 tively consider calculated to advance the well-being of the State, 
 I have to submit to your Highness the propriety of considering the 
 propositions contained in the enclosed paper ; which, if your High- 
 ness keep unconnected with this communication, the purport of 
 this letter will be confined to your Highness. 
 
 " ' Propositions. 
 
 " ' 1st. That an interview shall take place between your Highness 
 and myself ; the object of which shall be the consideration of me:i- 
 sures by which, when adopted, the various interests now iu agita,- 
 tion shall respectively be regarded. 
 
 " ' 2nd. That this interview shall be secret ; your Highness being 
 incognito.' 
 
 " If your Highness be disposed to accede to the first proposition, 
 I beg to submit to you, that from the nature of my residence, its 
 situation, and other causes, there will be no fear that any suspicion 
 of the fact of 2Ir. von Pliilipson acceding to the two propositions 
 will gain notoriety. This letter will be delivered into your own 
 hands. If Mr. von Philipson determine on acceding to these pro- 
 positions, he is most probably aware of the general locality 
 in which my residence is situated; and proper measures will 
 be taken that, if Mr. von Philipson honour me with a visit, he 
 shall not be under the necessity of attracting attention, by in- 
 quiring the way to my house. It is wished that the fact of the 
 second proposition being acceded to, should only be known to Mr. 
 von Philipson and myself; but if to be perfectly unattended be 
 
302 VIVIAN' GHET- 
 
 considered as an insuperable objection, I consent to his bein^ ac- 
 companied by a single friend. I sliall be alone. 
 
 " BeCKE>'X)ORFF»" 
 
 " Well ! " said the Prince, as Vivian finished the letter. 
 
 "The best person," said Vivian, " to decide upon your Highness 
 consenting to this interview is yourself." 
 
 " That is not the point on which I wish to have the benefit 
 of your opinion ; for I have already consented. I rode over 
 this morning to my cousin, the Duke of Micromegas, and dis- 
 patched from his residence a trusty messenger to Beckendorfi". 
 I have agreed to meet him — and to-morrow ; but on the express 
 terms that I should not be unattended. Now, then," continued 
 the Prince, with great energy, " now then will you be my com- 
 panion ? " 
 
 "I!" said Vivian. 
 
 " Yes ; you, my good friend ! — yon. I should consider myself as 
 safe if I were sleeping in a burning house, as I should be were I 
 with Beckendorff alone. Although this is not the first time that 
 we have communicated, I have never yet seen him ; and I am fully 
 aware, that if the approaching interview were known to my friends, 
 they would consider it high time that my son reigned in my stead. 
 But 1 am resolved to be firm — to be inflexible. My course is 
 plain. I am not to be again duped by him ; which," continued 
 the Prince, very much confused, " I will not conceal that I have 
 been once." 
 
 " But I ! " said Vivian ; " I — what good can I possibly do ? It 
 appears to me, that if Beckendorfi" is to be dreaded as you describe, 
 the presence or the attendance of no friend can possibly save you 
 from his crafty plans. But surely, if any one attend you, why not 
 be accompanied by a person whom you have known long, and who 
 knows you well — on whom you can confidently rely, and who may 
 be aware, from a thousand signs and circumstances which will never 
 attract my attention, at what particular and pressing moments you 
 may require prompt and energetic assistance. Such is the com- 
 panion you want ; and surely such an one you may find in Arnelm 
 — Von Ncuwied " 
 
 " Arnelm ! Von Neuweid ! " said the Prince ; " the best hands 
 at sounding a bugle, or spearing a boar, in all Reisenburg ! Ex- 
 cellent men, forsootli, to guard their master from the diplomatic 
 deceits of the wily Beckendorfi" ! Moreover, were they to have 
 even the slightest suspicion of my intended movement, they would 
 commit rank treason out of pure loyalty, and lock me up in my 
 own Cabinet ! No, no ! they will never do : I want a companion of 
 experience and knowledge of the world ; with whom I may con- 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 803 
 
 Terse with some prospect of finding my wavering firmness strength- 
 ened, or my misled judgment rightly guided, or my puzzled brain 
 cleared, — modes of assistance to which the worthy Jagd Junker is 
 but httle accustomed, however quickly ho might hasten to my 
 side in a combat, or the chase." 
 
 " If these, then, will not do, surely there is one man in this 
 castle, who, although he may not be a match for Beckendorff, can 
 be foiled by few others — Mr. Sievers?" said Vivian, with an in- 
 quiring eye. 
 
 " Sievers ! " exclaimed the Prince with great eagerness ; " the 
 very man ! firm, experienced, and sharp-witted — well schooled in 
 political learning, in case I required his assistance in arranging 
 the terms of the intended Charter, or the plan of the intended 
 Chambers ; for these, of course, are the points on which Becken- 
 dorflF wishes to consult. But one thing I am determined on : I 
 positively pledge myself to nothing, while under Beckendorif s 
 roof. He doubtless anticipates, by my visit, to grant the liberties 
 of the people on his own terms : perhaps Mr. Beckendorif, for 
 once in his life, maybe mistaken. I am not to be deceived twice; 
 and I am determined not to yield the point of the Treasury being 
 under the control of the Senate. That is the part of the harness 
 which galls ; and to preserve themselves from this rather incon- 
 venient regulation, v/ithout question, my good friend Beckendorfi" 
 has hit upon this plan." 
 
 " Then Mr. Sievers will accompany you?" asked Vivian, calling 
 the Prince's attention to the point of consultation. 
 
 " The very man for it, my dear friend ! but although Becken- 
 dorff, most probably respecting my presence, and taking into con- 
 sideration the circumstances under which we meet, would refrain 
 from consigning Sievers to a dungeon ; still, although the Minister 
 invites this interview, and although I have no single inducement 
 to conciliate him ; yet it would scarcely be correct, scarcely digni- 
 fied on my part, to prove, by the presence of my companion, that 
 I had for a length of time harboured an individual who, by Beck- 
 endorff 's own exertions, was banished from the Grand-Duchy. It 
 would look too much like a bravado." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Vivian, " is it so ? and pray of what was Mr. Sie- 
 vers guilty ? " 
 
 " Of high treason against one who was not his Sovereign." 
 
 "Howis that?'" 
 
 " Sievers, who is a man of considerable talents, was for a long 
 time a professor in one of our great Universities. The publication 
 of many able works procured him a reputation which induced Ma- 
 dame Carolina to use every exertion to gain his attendance at 
 Court ; and a courtier in time the professor became. At Reisen- 
 
304 VIVIAN GEET. 
 
 burg ]\Ir. Sievers was the gi'eat authority on all possible subjects 
 — philosophical, literary, aud political. In fact, he was the fashion ; 
 and, at the head of the great literary journal which is there 
 published, he terrified admiring Germany with his profound and 
 piquant critiques. Unfortunately, like some men as good, he was 
 unaware that Eeisenburg was not an independent State ; and so, 
 on the occasion of Austria attacking Naples, Mr. Sievers took the 
 opportunity of attacking Austria. His article, eloquent, luminous, 
 jH-ofouud, revealed the dark colours of the Austrian policy ; as an 
 artist's lamp brings out the murky tints of a Spaguoletto. Every one 
 admired Sievers' bitter sarcasms, enlightened views, and indignant 
 eloquence. Lladame Carolina crowned him with laurel in the midst 
 of her coterie ; and it is said that the Grand-Duke sent him a snuff- 
 box. In a very short time the article reached Vienna ; and in a still 
 shorter time Mr. Beckendorff reached the Residence, and insisted 
 on the author being immediately given up to the Austrian Govern- 
 ment. Madame Carolina was in despair, the Graud-Duke in doubt, 
 aud Beckendorff threatened to resign if the order were not signed. 
 A kind friend, perhaps his Royal Highness himself, gave Sievers 
 timely notice, and by rapid flight he reached my castle, and de- 
 manded my hospitality; he has lived here ever since, and has 
 done me a thousand services, not the least of which is the educa- 
 tion which he lias given my son, my glorious Maximilian." 
 
 " And Beckendorff," asked Vivian, " has he always been aware 
 that Sievers was concealed here?" 
 
 " That I cannot answer: had he been, it is not improbable that 
 he would have winked at it ; since it never has been his policy, 
 unnecessarily to annoy a mediatised Prince, or without great oc- 
 casion to let us feel that our independence is gone, —I will not, 
 with such a son as I have, say — for ever." 
 
 '• Mr. Sievers of course, then, cannot visit Beckendorff," said Vivian. 
 
 " That is clear," said the Prince, " and I therefore trust that 
 now you will no longer refuse my first request." 
 
 It was impossible for Vivian to deny the Prince any longer; and 
 indeed he had no objection (as his Highness could not be better 
 attended) to seize the singular and unexpected opportunity, which 
 now offered itself, of becoming acquainted with an individual re- 
 specting whom his curiosity was much excited. It was a late 
 hour ere the Prince and his friend retired; having arranged every- 
 thing for the morrow's journey, and conversed ou the probable 
 subjects of the approaching interview at great length. 
 
VIVIAN GKET. 305 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 On the following morning, before sunrise, tlie Prince's valet 
 roused Vivian from his slumbers. According- to the appointment 
 of the preceding evening, Vivian repaired in due time to a certain 
 spot in the park. The Prince reached it at tlie some moment. A 
 mounted groom, leading two English horses, of showy appear- 
 ance, and each having a travelling case strapped on the back of 
 its saddle, awaited them. His Highness mounted one of the steeds 
 with skilful celerity, although Arnelm and Von Neuwied were not 
 there to do honour to his bridle and his stirrup. 
 
 " You must give me an impartial opinion of your courser, my 
 dear friend," said the Prince to Vivian, "for if you deem it 
 worthy of being bestridden by you, my son requests that you will 
 do him the honour of accepting it ; if so, call it Max ; and pro- 
 vided it be as thorough-bred as the donor, you need not change ifc 
 for Bucephalus." 
 
 '•' Not unworthy of the son of Ammon ! " said Vivian, as he 
 touched the spirited animal with the spur, and proved its fiery 
 action on the springing turf. 
 
 A man never feels so proud or so sanguine as when he is bound- 
 ing on the back of a fine horse. Cares fly with the first curvet ; 
 and the very sight of a spur is enough to prevent one committing 
 suicide. 
 
 When Vivian and his companion had proceeded about five miles, 
 the Prince pulled up, and giving a sealed letter to the groom, lie 
 desired him to leave them. The Prince and Vivian amused them- 
 selves by endeavouring to form some conception of the person, 
 manners, and habits of the remarkable man to whom they were on 
 the point of paying so interesting a visit. 
 
 " I expect, Vivian, to be received with folded arms, and a brow 
 lowering with the overwhelming weight of a brain meditating for 
 the control of millions. His letter has prepared us for the 
 mysterious, but not very amusing style of his conversation. He 
 will be perpetually on his guard not to commit himself; and 
 although public business, and the receipt of papers, by calling 
 him away, will occasionally give us an opportunity of being alone; 
 stUl I regret that I did not put up in my case some interesting 
 volume which would have allowed me to feel less tedious those 
 hours, during which you wOl necessarily be employed with him in 
 private consultation." 
 
 After a ride of five hours, the horsemen arrived at a small 
 village. 
 
 " Thus for I think I have well piloted you," said the Prince : 
 " but I confess my knowledge here ceases ; and though I shall dis- 
 
 20 
 
306 VIVIAN GEET. 
 
 obey the diplomatic instructions of the great man, I must even ask 
 some old woman the way to Mr. Beckendorff's." 
 
 While they were hesitating as to whom they should address, an 
 equestrian, who had already passed them on the road, though at 
 some distance, came up, and inquired, in a voice which Vivian 
 recognised as that of the messenger who had brought Becken- 
 dorff's letter to Turriparva, whether he had the honour of ad- 
 dressing Mr. von Philiiason. Neither of the gentlemen answered, 
 for Vivian of course expected the Prince to reply ; and his High- 
 ness was, as yet, so unused to his incognito, that he had actually 
 forgotten his own name. But it was evident that the demandant 
 had questioned, rather from system, tlian by way of security ; and 
 he waited patiently until the Prince had collected his senses, and 
 assumed sufficient gravity of countenance to inform the horse- 
 man that he was the person in question. " What, sir, is your 
 pleasure ? " 
 
 " I am instructed to ride on before you, sir, that you may not 
 mistake your way ;" and without waiting for an answer, thj laconic 
 messenger turned his steed's head, and trotted off. 
 
 The travellers soon left the high road, and turned up a wild 
 turf path, not only inaccessible to carriages, but even requiring 
 great attention from horsemen. After much winding, and some 
 floundering, they arrived at a light iron gate, which apparently 
 opened into a shrubbery. 
 
 " I will take your horses here, gentlemen," said the guide ; 
 and getting off his horse, he opened the gate. " Follow this path, 
 and you can meet with no difficulty." The Prince and Vivian 
 accordingly dismounted; and the guide immediately gave a loud 
 shrill whistle. 
 
 The path ran, for a very short way, through the shrubbery, 
 which evidently was a belt encircling the grounds. From this, 
 the Prince and Vivian emerged upon an ample lawn, which 
 formed on the farthest side a terrace, by gradually sloping down 
 to the margin of a river. It was enclosed on the other side, and 
 white pheasants were feeding in its centre. Following the path 
 which skirted the lawn, they arrived at a second gate, which 
 opened into a garden, in which no signs of the taste at present 
 existing in Germany for the English syst^'m of picturesque 
 pleasure-grounds were at all visible. The walk was bounded on 
 both sides by tall borders, or rather hedges, of l)0x, cut into the 
 shape of battlements ; the sameness of these turrets being occa- 
 sionally varied by the immovable form of some trusty warder, 
 carved out of yew or laurel. Kaiscd terraces and arched walks, 
 aloes and orange-trees mounted on sculptured pedestals, columns 
 of cypress, and pyramids of bay, whose dark foliage strikingly 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 807 
 
 contrasted with the marble statues, and the white vases shining in 
 the sun, rose in all directions in methodical confusion. The sound 
 of a fountain was not wanting; and large beds of beautiful 
 flowers abounded. Proceeding through a very lofty berceau, 
 occasional openings in whose curving walks allowed effective 
 glimpses of a bust or a statue, the companions at length came 
 in sight of the house. It was a long, uneven, low building, evi- 
 dently of ancient architecture. Numerous stacks of tall and 
 fantastically-shaped chimneys rose over three thick and heavy 
 gables, which reached down farther thau the middle of the eleva- 
 tion, forming three compartments, one of them including a large 
 and modern bow-window, over which clustered in profusion the 
 sweet and glowing blossoms of the clematis and the pomegranate. 
 Indeed, the whole front of the house was so completely covered 
 with a rich scarlet-creeper, that it was almost impossible to ascer- 
 tain of what materials it was built. As Vivian was admiring a 
 white peacock, which, attracted by their approach, had taken the 
 opportunity of unfurling its wheeling train, a man came forward 
 from the bow window. 
 
 In height he was about five feet eight inches, and of a spare but 
 well-proportioned figure. He had very little hair, which was highly 
 powdered, and dressed in a manner to render more remarkable the 
 elevation of his conical and polished forehead. His long piercing 
 black eyes wore almost closed, from the fulness of their upper lids. 
 His cheek was sallow, his nose aquiline, his mouth compressed. 
 His ears, wiiich were quite uncovered, wei'c so very small, that it 
 would be wrong to pass them over unnoticed ; as indeed were his 
 hands and feet, which in form were quite feminine. He was 
 dressed in a coat and waistcoat of black velvet, the latter part of his 
 costume reaching to his thighs ; and in a button hole of his coat 
 was a large bunch of tube-rose. The broad collar of his ex- 
 quisitely plaited shirt, though tied round with a wide black ribbon, 
 did not conceal a neck which agreed well with his beardless chin, 
 and would not have misbecome a woman. In England we sliould 
 have called his breeches buckskin. They were of a pale yellow 
 leather, and suited his large, and spur-armed cavalry boots, which 
 fitted closely to the legs they covered, reaching over the knees of 
 the wearer. A ribbon round his neck, tucked into his waistcoat 
 pocket, was attached to a small French watch. He swung in his 
 right hand the bow of a violin ; and in the other, the little finger 
 of which was nearly hid by a large antique ring, he held a white 
 handkerchief strongly perfumed with violets. Notwithstanding 
 the many feminine characteristics which 1 have noticed, either 
 from the expression of the eyes, or the formation of the mouth, 
 the countenance of tliis individual generally conveyed an impression 
 
308 VIVIAN GEEY. 
 
 of firmness and energy. This description will not be considered 
 ridiculously minute by those who have never bad an opportunity of 
 becoming' acquainted with the person of so celebrated a gentle- 
 man as Mr. Beckexdorff. 
 
 He advanced to the Prince with an air which seemed to pro- 
 claim, that as liis person could not be mistaken, the ceremony of 
 introduction was perfectly unnecessary. Bowing in the most cere- 
 monious and courtly manner to his Highness, Mr. Beckeudorff in 
 a weak, but not unpleasing voice, said that he was " honoured by 
 the presence of Mr. von Philipson." The Prince answered his 
 salutation in a manner equally ceremonious, and equally courtly ; 
 for having no mean opinion of his own diplomatic abilities, bis 
 Highness determined that neither by an excess of coldness nor 
 cordiality on his part, should the Minister gather the slightest in- 
 dication of the temper in which he had attended the inter- 
 view. You see that even the bow of a diplomatist is a serious 
 business ! 
 
 " Mr. Beckendorff"," said his Highness, " my letter doubtless in- 
 formed you that I should avaU myself of your permission to be ac- 
 companied. Let me have the honour of presenting to you my 
 friend Mr. Grey, an English gentleman." 
 
 As the Prince spoke, Beckendorff stood with bis arms crossed 
 behind him, and his chin resting upon his chest ; but his eyes at the 
 same time so raised as to look his Highness full in the face. Vivian 
 was so struck by his posture, and the expression of his countenance, 
 that be nearly omitted to bow when he was presented. As his 
 name was mentioned, tlie Minister gave him a sharp, sidelong 
 glance, and moving bis head very slightly, be invited his guests to 
 enter the bouse. The gentlemen accordingly complied with his 
 request. Passing through the bow window, they found themselves 
 in a well-sized room, the sides of which were covered with shelves 
 filled with richly-bound books. There was nothing in the room 
 which gave the slightest indication that the master of the library 
 was any other than a private gentleman. Not a book, not a chair, 
 v,-as out of its place. A purple inkstand of Sevre and a very 
 highly-tooled morocco portfolio of the same colour reposed on a 
 marqueterie table, and that was all. Ko papers, no despatches, no 
 red tape, and no red boxes. Over an ancient chimney, lined with 
 china tiles, on which were represented grotesque figures — cows 
 playing the harp — monkeys acting monarchs — and tall figures all 
 legs, flying with rapidity from pursuers who were all head — over 
 this chimney were suspended some curious pieces of antique ar- 
 mour, among which an Italian dag2:er, with a chased and jewelled 
 hilt, was the most remarkable, and the most precious. 
 
 " This," said Mr. BeckeudortV, '' is my library." 
 
VIVIAN GRET?. 309 
 
 " What a splendid poignard ! " said the Priuce, who had no taste 
 for books ; and he immediately walked up to the cliimney-piece. 
 Beckeudorif followed him, and taking down the admired M'eapon 
 from its resting-place, proceeded to lecture on its virtues, its anti- 
 quity, and its beauty. Vivian seized this opportunity of taking a 
 rapid glance at the contents of the library. He anticipated inter- 
 leaved copies of Machiavel, Vattel, and Montesquieu; and the 
 lightest works that he expected to meet with were the lying me- 
 moirs of some intriguing Cardinal, or the deluding apology of an 
 exiled jNIinister. To his surprise he found that, without an excep- 
 tion, the collection consisted of poetry and romance. Somewhat 
 surprised, Vivian looked with a curious eye on the unlettered backs 
 of a row of mighty folios on a corner shelf; " These," he thought, 
 " at least must be royal ordinances, and collected state-papers." 
 The sense of propriety struggled for a moment with the passion of 
 curiosity; but nothing is more difficult for the man who loves 
 books, than to refrain from examining a volume which he fancies 
 may be unknown to him. From the jewelled dagger, Beckendorff 
 had aow got to an enamelled breast-plate. Two to one he should 
 not be observed ; and so, with a desperate pull, Vivian extracted a 
 volume — it was a herbal ! He tried another — it was a collection of 
 dried insects ! 
 
 " And now," said Mr. Beckendorff, " I will show you my draw- 
 ing-room." 
 
 He opened a door at the farther end of the library, and intro- 
 duced them to a room of a different character. The sun, which 
 was shining very brightly, lent additional brilliancy to the rainbow- 
 tmted birds of paradise, the crimson mackaws, and the green par- 
 roquets that glistened on the Indian paper, which covered not only 
 the walls, but also the ceiling of the room. Over the fire-place, 
 a black frame, projecting from the wall and mournfully contrast- 
 ing with the general brilliant appearance of the apartment, in- 
 closed a picture of a beautiful female; and bending over its 
 frame, aud indeed partly shadowing the countenance, was the 
 withered branch of a tree. A harpsichord and several cases of 
 musical instruments were placed in different parts of the room ; 
 and suspended by very broad black ribbons from the wall, on each 
 side of the picture, were a guitar and a tambourine. On a sofa 
 of unusual size lay a Cremona ; and as Mr. Beckendoi'ff passed 
 the instrument, he threw by its side the bow, which he had hitherto 
 carried in his hand. 
 
 " We may as well now take something," said Mr. Beckendorff, 
 when his guests had sufficiently admired the room ; " my pictures 
 are in my dining-room — let us go there." 
 
 So saying, and armed this time not only with his bow but also 
 
S10 VIVIAK GIUiY. 
 
 with his violin, he retraced his steps through the library, and 
 crossing a small passag-e, which divided the house into two com- 
 partments, he opened the door into his dining-room. The moment 
 that they entered the room, their ears were saluted, and indeed 
 then- senses ravished, by what appeared to be a concert of a thou- 
 sand birds ; yet none of the winged choristers were to be seen, and 
 not even a single cage was visible. The room, which was simply 
 furnished, appeared at first rather gloomy j for though lighted by 
 three windows, the silk blinds were all drawn. 
 
 " And now," said Mr. Beckendorfif, raising the first blind, " you 
 shaU see my pictures. At what do you estimate tlus Breughel ? " 
 
 The window, which was of stained green glass, gave to the land- 
 scape an effect similar to that generally produced by the artist men- 
 tioned. The Prince, who was already very puzzled by finding one 
 who, at the same time, was both his host and his enemy, so dif- 
 ferent a character from what he had conceived, and who, being by 
 temper superstitious, considered that this preliminary false opinion: 
 of his was rather a bad omen, — did not express any very great ad- 
 miration of the gallery of Mr. Beckendorfl'; but Vivian, who liad 
 no ambitious hopes or fears to afi"ect his temper, and who was 
 highly amused by the character with whom he had become so un- 
 expectedly acquainted, good-naturedly humoured the fantasies- 
 of the Minister; and said that he preferred his pictiu'e to any 
 Breughel he had ever seen. 
 
 " I see you have a fine taste," said Mr. Beckendorfl', with a 
 serious air, but in a courteous tone ; " you shall see my Claude ! " 
 
 The rich yellow tint of the second wiudov/' gave to the fanciful 
 garden all that was requisite to make it look Italian. 
 
 " Have you ever been in Italy, sir ? " asked Beckeudorff. 
 
 " I have not." 
 
 " You have, Mr. von PhUipson ? " 
 
 " Never south of Germany," answered the Prince, who was> 
 hungry, and eyed, with a rapacious glance, the capital luncheon 
 which he saw prepared for him. 
 
 " Well, then, when either of you go, you will, of course, not miss 
 the Lago Maggiore. Gaze on Isola Bella at sunset, and you will 
 not view so fair a scene as this ! And now, Mr. von Philipson," 
 said Beckendortf, " do me the favour of giving me your opiniou of 
 this llonthorst ? " 
 
 His Highness would rather have given his opinion of the dish of 
 game which still smoked upon the table, but which he was mourn- 
 fully convinced would not smoke lung. " But," thought he, " this 
 is the last ! " and so he admired the efiect produced by the flaming 
 panes, to which Beckendorfl" swore that no piece ever piiinted by 
 Gerard Houthorst, for brilliancy of colouring and boldness of out- 
 
VIVIAN' GKEY. 311 
 
 line, could be compared : " besides," continued Beckendorff, '■ mine 
 are all animated pictures. See that cypress, waving from the 
 breeze which is now stirring — and look ! look at this crimson pea- 
 cock! — look! Mr. von PhiUpson." 
 
 " I am looking', Mr. von I beg pardon, ^Ir. Beckendorff," 
 
 said the Prince, with great dignity — making this slight mistake in 
 the name, either from being unused to converse with such low 
 people as had not the nominal mark of nobility, or to vent his spleen 
 at being so unnecessarily kept from the refreshment which he so 
 much required. 
 
 "Ml", von Philipson," said Beckendorff, suddenly turning round, 
 " all my fruits and all my vegetables are from my own garden. 
 Let us sit down and help ourselves." 
 
 The only substantial food at table was a g-reat dish *f game. 
 The vegetables and the fruits were numerous and superb ; and 
 there really appeared to be a fair prospect of the Prince of Little 
 Lilliput making as good a luncheon as if the whole hiid been con- 
 ducted under the auspices of Master Rodolph himself, — had it not 
 been for the melody of the unseen vocalists, which, probably ex- 
 cited by the sounds of the knives and plates, too evidently in- 
 creased every moment. But this inconvenience was soon removed 
 by Mr. Beckendorff rising, and giving three loud knocks on the 
 door opposite to the one by which they had entered. Immediate 
 silence ensued. 
 
 '•' Clara wiU change your plate, !Mr. von Philipson," said Beck- 
 endorff. 
 
 Vivian eagerly looked up, not with the slightest idea that the 
 entrance of Clara would prove that the mysterious picture in the 
 drawing-room was a portrait ; but it must be confessed with a little 
 curiosity to view the first specimen of the sex who lived under the 
 roof of Mr. Beckendoi-ff. Clara was a bale old woman, with 
 rather an acid expression of countenance ; very prim in her appear- 
 ance, and evidently very precise in her manners. She placed a 
 bottle, and two wine-glasses with long thin stems, on the table ; 
 and having removed the game, and changed the plates, she disap- 
 peared. 
 
 " Pray what wine is this, Mr. Beckendorff?" eagerly asked the 
 Prince. 
 
 " I really don't know. I never drink wine." 
 
 " Not know ! I never tasted such Tokay in my life ! " 
 
 " Probably," said Mr. Beckendorff ; " I think it was a present 
 from the Emperor. I have never tasted it." 
 
 "My dear sir, take a glass!" said the Prince; his naturally 
 jovial iemper having made him completely forget whom he was 
 addressing, and the business he had come upon. 
 
312 VIVIAN GEEY. 
 
 " I never drink vane ; I am glad you like it, I have no doubt 
 Clara has more." 
 
 " No, no, no ! we must be moderate," said the Prince ; -who, 
 though a great admirer of a good luncheon, had also a due re- 
 spect for a good dinner, — and consequently had no idea at this 
 awkward hour in the day, of preventing himself from properly 
 appreciating the future banquet. Moreover, his Highness, taking 
 into consideration the manner in which the game had been dressed, 
 and the marks of refinement and good taste which seemed to per- 
 vade every part of the establishment of Mr. Beckcndorff, did not 
 imagine that he was much presuming, when he conjectured that 
 there was a fair chance of his dinner being something very 
 superior. 
 
 The sudden arrival and appearance of some new and unexpected 
 guests through the mysterious portal on which ISIr. Beckcndorff 
 by his three knocks had previously produced such a tranquillising 
 eiiect, and which he had now himself opened, explained the cha- 
 racter of the apartment, which, from its unceasing melody, liad 
 so much excited the curiosity of his guests. These new visitors 
 were a crowd of pipiug bullfinches, Virginia nightingales, trained 
 canaries, Java sparrows, and Indian lorys ; which freed from their 
 cages of golden wire by their fond master, had fled, as was their 
 custom, from his superb aviary to pay their respects and compli- 
 ments at his daily levee. 
 
 " I am glad to see that you like birds, sir," said Beckendorff to 
 Vivian; for our hero, good-naturedly humouring tli3 tastes of his 
 host, was impartially dividing the luxuries of a peach among a 
 crowd of gaudy and greedy little sparrows. '• You shall see my 
 favourites," continued Beckendorfi'; and tapping rather loudly on 
 the table, he held out the forefinger of each hand. Two bullfinches 
 recognised the signal, and immediately hastened to their perch. 
 
 " My dear ! " trilled out one little songster ; and it raised it.s 
 speaking eyes to its delighted master. 
 
 " My love ! " warbled the other, marking its affection by looks 
 equally personal. 
 
 As these monosyllables were repeated, Beckendorff, with spark- 
 ling eyes, triumphantly looked round at Vivian, as if the frequent 
 reiteration were a proof of the sincerity of the affection of these 
 singular friends. 
 
 At length, to the Prince's relief, Mr. BcckcndorfFs feathered 
 friends having finislieu tlieir dessert, were sent back to their cages, 
 with a strict injunction not to trouble their master at present v/ith 
 their voices — an injunction which was obeyed to the letter; and 
 when the door was closed, few persons could have been pcriluaded 
 that the next room was an aviarv. 
 
\ 
 
 VIVIAN GKET. 313 
 
 " I am proud of my peaches, Mr. von Philipsoii," said Becken- 
 (lorff, recomineiiding" the fruit to his guest's attention ; tlien rising- 
 from the table, he threw himself on the sofa, and began liummiug 
 a tune in a low voice. Presently he took up his Cremona, and 
 using the violin as a guitai-, accompanied himself in a beautiful 
 air, but not in a more audible tone. While Mr. Beckeudorff was 
 singing, he seemed unconscious that any person was in the room ; 
 and the Prince, who was not very fond of music, certainly gave 
 him no hint, either by his approbation or his attention, that he was 
 listened to. Vivian, however, like most unhap^jy men, loved music : 
 and actuated by this feeling, and the interest which he began to 
 take in the character of iMr. Beckeudorff, he could not, when that 
 gentleman had finished his air, refrain from very sincerely saying 
 " encore ! " 
 
 Beckeudorff started and looked round, as if he were for the 
 first moment aware that any being had heard him. 
 
 " Encore ! " said he, with a kind sneer ; '•' who ever could sing or 
 play the same thing twice ! Are you fond of music, sir ? " 
 
 " Very much so, indeed ; I fancied I recognised that air. You 
 are an admirer, I imagine, of Mozart ? " 
 
 "I never heard of him; I know nothing of those gentry. 
 But if you really like music, I will play you something worth 
 listening to." 
 
 Mr. Beckeudorff began a beautiful air very adagio, gradually 
 increasing the time in a kind of variation, till at last his execution 
 became so rapid, that Vivian, surprised at the mere mechanical 
 action, rose from his chair in order better to examine the player's 
 management and motion of his bov,^. Exquisite as were the tones, 
 enchanting as were the originality of his variations and a perfect 
 harmony of his composition, it was nevertheless extremely difficult 
 to resist smiling at the contortions of his face and figure. Now, 
 his body bending to the strain, he was at one moment with his 
 violin raised in the air, and the next instant with the lower nut 
 almost resting upon his foot. At length, by well-proportioned 
 degrees, the air died away into the original soft cadence ; and the 
 player becoming completely entranced in his own performance, 
 finished by sinking back on the sofa, with his bow and violin 
 raised over his head. Vivian would not distui'b hiai by his ap- 
 plause. An instant after, Mr. Beckeudorff, throwing down the 
 instrument, rushed through an open window into the garden. 
 
 As soon as Beckendorff was out of sight, Vivian looked at the 
 Prince ; and his Highness elevating his eye-brows, screwing up 
 his mouth, and shrugging his shoulders, altogether presented a 
 very comical picture of a puzzled man. 
 
314 VIVIAN GKEY. 
 
 " Well, my dear friend,** said lie, " this is rather different from 
 what we expected." 
 
 " Very different ; but much more amusing." 
 
 "Humph!" said the Prince, very slowly, "I do not think it 
 exactly requires a ghost to tell us that Mr. Beckendorff is not in 
 the habit of going to Court. I do not know how he is accus- 
 tomed to conduct himself when he is honoured by a visit from the 
 Grand-Duke; but I am quite sure, that as regards his treat- 
 ment of myself, to say the least, the incognito is very well 
 observed." 
 
 "Mr. von Philipson," said the gentleman of whom they were 
 speaking, putting his head in at the v.indow, "you shall see 
 my blue passion-flower. We will take a Avalk round the garden." 
 
 The Prince gave Vivian a look, which seemed to suppose they 
 must go ; and accordingly they stepped into the garden. 
 
 " You do not see my garden in its glory," said Mr. Beckendorff, 
 stopping before the bow-window of the library ; " this spot is my 
 strong point ; had you been here earlier in the year, you might 
 have admired with me my invaluable crescents of tulips, such 
 colours ! such brilliancy ! so defined ! And last year I had three 
 king-tulips; their elegantly-formed, creamy cups, I have never 
 seen equalled. And then my double variegated ranunculuses; 
 my hyacinths of fifty bells, in every tint, single and double ; and 
 my favourite stands of auriculas, so large and powdered, that the 
 colour of the velvet leaves was scarcely discoverable ! The blue 
 passion-flower is, however, now very beautiful. You see that 
 summer-house, sir," continued he, turning to Vivian, " the top is my 
 observatory ; you wUl sleep in that pavilion to-night, so you had 
 better take notice how the walk winds." 
 
 The passion-flower was trained against the summer-house in 
 question. 
 
 "There!" said Mr. Beckendorff; and he stood admiring with 
 outstretched arms, "' the latter days of its beauty, for the autumn 
 frosts will soon stop its flower. Pray, IMr. von Philipson, ;u-e you 
 a botanist?" 
 
 " Why," said the Prince, " I am a great admirer of flowers, but 
 I cannot exactly say tliat " 
 
 "' Ah ! no botanist. The flower of this beautiful plant continues 
 only one day, but there is a constant succession from July to the 
 
 end of the autumn ; and if this fine weather continue Pray, sir, 
 
 how is the wind ? " 
 
 " I really cannot say," said the Prince ; " but I think the wind is 
 either " 
 
 " Do you know, sir?" continued Bcckcndoi-fl" to Vivian. 
 
VIVIAN GKEY. 315 
 
 " I think, sir, that it is " 
 
 "Westerly. — Well! If this weather continue, the succession 
 may still last another month. You will be interested to know, 
 Mr. von Philipson, that the flower comes out tit the same joint 
 with the leaf, on a peduncle nearly three inches long-; round the 
 centre of it are two radiating crowns ; look, look sir ! the inner 
 inclining towards the centre column — now examine this well, and 
 I will be with you in a moment." So saying, Mr. Beckendorii', 
 running down the walk, jumped over the railing, and in a 
 moment was coursing across tne lawn, towards the river, in a 
 chase after a dragou-iiy. 
 
 Mr. Beckendorff was soon out of sight ; and after lingering half 
 an hour in the vicinity of the blue passion-flower, the Prince pro- 
 posed to Vivian that they shoidd quit the spot. " So far as I can 
 observe," continued his Highness, "we might as well quit tlie 
 house. No wonder that Beckendorff's power is on the wane, for he 
 appears to me to be growing childish. Surely he could not always 
 have been this frivolou-s creature ! " 
 
 " I really am so astonished," said Vivian, " that it is quite out 
 of my power to assist your Highness in any supposition. But I 
 should recommend you not to be too hasty in your movements. 
 Take care that staying here does not affect the position which you 
 have taken up, or retard the progress of any measures on which 
 you have determined, and you are safe. What will it injure you, 
 if, with the cjijance of achieving the great and patriotic purpose to 
 which you have devoted your powers and energies, you are sub- 
 jected for a few hours to the caprices, or even rudeness, of any man 
 whatever? If Beckendorff" be the character which the world gives 
 him credit to be, I do not think he can imagine that you are to be 
 deceived twice ; and if he do imagine so, we are convinced that 
 he will be disappointed. If, as you have supposed, not only 
 his power is on the wane, but his intellect also, four-and-tweuty 
 hours will convince us of the fact ; for in less than that time your 
 Highness will necessarily have conversation of a more important 
 nature with him. I recommend, therefore, that we continue here 
 to-day, although," added Vivian smiling, " I have to sleep in his 
 observatory." 
 
 After wallcing in the gardens about an hour, the Prince and 
 Vivian again went into the house, imagining that Beckendorff" 
 might have returned by another entrance ; but he was not there. 
 The Prince was much annoyed; and Vivian, to amuse himself, had 
 recourse to the library. After re-examining the armour, looking 
 at the garden through the painted windows, conjecturing who 
 might be the original of the mysterious picture, and what could be 
 the meaning of the withered branch, the Prince was fairly worn 
 
31G VIVIAN GEF.T. 
 
 out. The precise dinner hour he did not know; and notwith- 
 standing repeated exertions, he had hitherto been unable to find 
 the blooming Clara. He could not flatter himself, however, that 
 there were less than two hours to kill before the great event took 
 place ; and so, heartily wishing himself back again at Turriparva, 
 he prevailed upon Vivian to throw aside his book, and take another 
 walk. 
 
 This time they extended their distance, stretched out as far as 
 the river, and explored the adjoining wood.s ; but of Mr. Becken- 
 dorff they saw and heard nothing. At length they again returned : 
 it was getting dusk. They found the bow-window of the library 
 closed. They again entered the dining-room; and, to their sur- 
 prise, found no preparations for dinner. This time the Prince was 
 more fortunate in his exertions to procure an interview with Madam 
 Clara, for that lady almost Immediately entered the room. 
 
 "Pray, my good madam," inquired the Prince, "has your 
 master returned?" 
 
 " Mr. Beckendorflf is in the library, su-," said the old lady, 
 pompously. 
 
 " Indeed ! we do not dine in this room, then ? " 
 
 "Dine, sir!" said the good dame, forgetting her pomposity in 
 her astonishment. 
 
 " Yes — dine," said the Prince. 
 
 " Mr. Beckeudorlf never takes anything after his noon-meal." 
 
 "Am I to understand, then, that we are to have^no dinner?" 
 asked his Highness, angry and agitated. 
 
 " Mr. Beckendorfl" never takes anything after his noon-meal, sir; 
 but I am sure that if you and your friend are hungry, sir, I hope 
 there is never a want in this house." 
 
 " My good lady, I am hungry, very hungry indeed ; and if your 
 master, I mean Mr. Von — that is Mr. Beckendorfl', has such a bad 
 appetite that he can satisfy himself with picking, once a day, the 
 breast of a pheasant ; why, if he expect his friends to be willing 
 or even able to live on such fare, — the least that I can say is, that 
 he is very much mistaken; and so, therefore, my good friend Grey, 
 I think we had better order our horses, and be oil'. ' 
 
 " No occasion for tliat, 1 hope," said Mrs. Clara, rather alarmed 
 at the Prince's passion ; " no want, I trust, ever here, sir ; and I 
 make no doubt you will have dinner as soon as possible ; and so, 
 sir, I hope you will not be hasty." 
 
 " Hasty ! I have no wish to be hasty; but as for disarranging the 
 whole economy of the house, and getting up an extemporaneous 
 meal for me, I cannot think of it. Mr. Beckeudorff may live as 
 he Ukes, and if I stay here, I am contented to live as he does. I 
 do not wish him to change his habits for mc, and I shall take care 
 
VIVIAN GREY, 317 
 
 that, after to-day, there will be no necessity for his doing; so. How- 
 ever, absolute hunger can make no compliments ; and therefore I 
 will thank you, my good madam, to let me and my friend have the 
 remains of that cold game, if they be still in existence, on which 
 we lunched, or, as you term it, took our uoou-meal this morning ; 
 and which, if it were your own cooking, Mrs. Clara, I assure 
 you, as I observed to my friend at the time, did you infinite 
 credit." 
 
 The Prince, although his gentlemanlike feelings had, in spite of 
 his hunger, dictated a deprecation of Mrs. Clara's making a dinner 
 merely for himself, still thought that a seasonable and deserved 
 compliment to the lady might assist in bringing about a result, 
 which, notwithstanding his politeness, he very much desired ; and 
 that was the production of another specimen of her culinary accom- 
 plishments. Having behaved, as he considered, with such mode- 
 ration and dignified civility, he was, it must be confessed, rather 
 astounded, when j\Irs. Clara, duly acknov/ledging his complimenc 
 by her curtsey, was sorry to inform him that she dared give no 
 refreshment in this house, without Mr. Beckendorff's special 
 order. 
 
 " Special order ! why ! surely your master will not grudge me 
 the cold leg of a pheasant ? " 
 
 " Mr. Beckendorff is not in the habit of grudging anything," 
 answered the housekeeper, with offended majesty. 
 
 " Then why should he object :" asked the Prince. 
 
 " Mr. Beckendorff is the best judge, sir, of the propriety of his 
 own regulations." 
 
 '•' Well, well ! " said Vivian, more interested for his friend than 
 himself, "there is no difficulty in asking Mr. Beckendorff"." 
 
 '•' None in the least, sir," answered the housekeeper, " when he 
 is awake." 
 
 " Awake ! " said the Prince, '• why ! is he asleep now ?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, in the library." 
 
 " And how long wUl he be asleep?" asked the Prince, with great 
 eagerness. 
 
 " It is uncertain ; he may be asleep for hours — he may wake in 
 five minutes ; all I can do, is to watch." 
 
 '•'But, surely in a case like the present, you can wake your 
 master ?" 
 
 " I could not wake Mr. Beckendorff, sir, if the house were on 
 fire. No one can enter the room Mhen he is asleep." 
 
 " Then how can you possibly know when he is awake ?" 
 
 "I shall hear his violin immediately, sir." 
 
 " Well, well ! I suppose it must be so. I wish we were in Turri- 
 parva, that is all I know. Men of my station have no business to 
 
S18 VIVIAN GREr. 
 
 be paying visits to the sons of the Lord knows •who ! peasants, 
 shopkeepers, and pedagognes ! " 
 
 As a fire was blazing in the dining-room, -n-hich Mrs. Clara in- 
 formed them Mr. Beckendorff never omitted Iiaving every night in 
 the year, the Prince and his friend imagined that they were to re- 
 main there, and they consequently did not attempt to disturb the 
 .slumbers of their host. Resting his feet on the hobs, his High- 
 ness, for the fiftieth time, declared that he wished he had never left 
 Turriparva; and jnst when Vivian was on the point of giving up, 
 in despair, the hope of consoling him, Mrs. Clara entered, and 
 proceeded to lay the cloth. 
 
 "Your master is awake, then?" asked the Prince, very 
 quickly. 
 
 " Mr. Beckendorff has been long awake, sir ! and dinner will be 
 ready immediately." 
 
 His Highness' countenance brightened; and in a short time 
 the supper appearing, the Prince, again fascinated by Mrs. Clara's 
 cooker)' and Mr. Beckendorff's wine, forgot his chagrin, and re- 
 gained his temper. 
 
 In about a couple of hours Mr. Beckendorff entered. 
 
 •"I hope that Clara has given you wine you like, Mr. von. Phi- 
 lipson?" 
 
 "The same binn, I will answer for that." 
 
 Mr. Beckendorff had his violin in his hand ; but his dress was 
 much changed. His great boots being pulled off, exhibited the 
 white silk stockings wliicli he invariably wore ; and his coat had 
 given yilace to the easier covering of a brocade dressing-gown. 
 He drew a chair round the fire, between the Prince and Vivian. 
 It was a late hour, and the room was only lighted by the glimmer- 
 ing coals, for the flames had long died away. Mr. Beckendorff 
 sat for some time without speaking, gazing earnestly on the de- 
 caying embers. Indeed, before many minutes had elapsed, com- 
 plete silence prevailed ; for both the endeavours of the Prince, 
 and of Vivian, to promote conversation had been unsuccessful. 
 At length the master of the house tm-ned round to the Prince, 
 and pointing to a particular mass of coal, said, " I think, Mr. von 
 Philipson, that is the completest elephant I ever saw. — We will 
 ring the bell for some coals, and then have a game of whist." 
 
 The Prince was so surprised by Mr. Beckendorff's remark, that 
 he was not sufficiently struck by the strangeness of liis proposi- 
 tion; and it was only when he lieard Vivian professing his igno- 
 rance of the game, that it occurred to him that to play at whist 
 •was hardly the object for which he had travelled from Turri- 
 parve. 
 
 *'An Englishman not know whist!" said LIr. Beckendorflf: 
 
VIVIAN GEEY. 819 
 
 "ridiculous! — you do know it. Lot us play! Mr. von Philipson, 
 I know, has no objection." 
 
 " But, my g-ood sir," said the Prince, " although previous to 
 conversation 1 may have no objection to join in a little amuse- 
 ment, still it appears to me that it has escaped your memory 
 that whist is a game which requires the co-operation of four per- 
 sons." 
 
 " Not at all ! I take dummy. I am not sure it is not the finest 
 way of playing the game." 
 
 The table was arranged, the lights brought, the cards produced, 
 and the Prince of Little Lilliput, greatly to liis surprise, found him- 
 self playing whist with Mr. Eeckendorft'. Nothing could be more 
 dull. The Minister would neither bet nor stake ; and the immense 
 interest which he took in every card that was played, ludicrously 
 contrasted -with the rather sullen looks of the Prince, and the 
 very sleepy ones of Vivian. Whenever Mr. Beckendorff played 
 for dummy, he always looked with the most searching eye into 
 the next adversary's face, as if he would read his cards in his fea- 
 tures. The first rubber lasted an hour and a half — three long 
 games, which Mr. Beckendorff, to his triumph, hardly won. In 
 the first game of the second rubber Vivian blundered ; in the 
 second he revoked ; and in the third, having neglected to play, 
 and being loudly called upon, and rated both by his partner and 
 Mr. Beckendorff, he was found to be asleep. Beckendorff threw 
 down his hand with a loud dash, which roused Vivian from his 
 slumber. He apologised for his drowsiness ; but said that he was 
 so extremely sleepy that he must retire. The Prince, who longed 
 to be with Beckendorff alone, winked approbation of his intention. 
 
 "Well!" said Beckendorff, "you spoiled the rubber. I shall 
 ring for Clara. Why you all are so fond of going to bed, I cannot 
 understand. I have not been to bed these thirty years." 
 
 Vivian made his escape; aud Beckendorff, pityiug his degene- 
 racy, proposed to tlie Prince, in a tone which seemed to anticipate 
 that the offer would meet with instantaneous acceptation— double 
 dummy ; — this, however, was too much. 
 
 " Xo more cards, sir, I thank you," said the Prince ; " if, how- 
 ever, you have a mind for an hour's conversation, I am quite at 
 your service." 
 
 '• I am obliged to you — I never talk — good night, Mr. von 
 Philipson." 
 
 Mr. Beckendorff left the room. His Highness could contain 
 himself no longer. He rang tlie bell. 
 
 " Pray, Mrs. Clara," said he, "where arc my horses?" 
 
 " Mr. Beckendorff will have no quadrupeds within a mile of the 
 house, except Owlface." 
 
320 VIVIAN GEEY. 
 
 '•' How do you mean ? — ^let me see the man-servant." 
 
 " The household consists only of myself, sir." 
 
 " Why ! where is my liig'g-age then ? " 
 
 "That has been broiig-ht up, sir; it is in your room." 
 
 " I tell yoii, I must htwe my horses." 
 
 " It is quite impossible to-night, sir. I thint, sir, you had 
 better retire ; Mr. Eeckendorff may not ba home again these six 
 hours." 
 
 " What ! is your master gone out ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, he is just gone out to take his ride." 
 
 " Why ! where is his horse kept then ?" 
 
 " It is Owlface, sir." 
 
 " Owlface, indeed! What! is your master in the habit of riding 
 out at night ? " 
 
 " Mr. Beckendorff rides out, sir, just when it happens to suit 
 him." 
 
 "It is very odd I cannot ride out when it happens to suit me! 
 However, I will be off to-morrow and so, if you please, show me 
 my bed-room at once." 
 
 " Your room is the library, sir." 
 
 " The library ! why, there is no bed in the library." 
 
 " We have no beds, sir ; but the sofa is made up." 
 
 " No beds ! Well ! it is only for one night. You arc all mad, 
 and I am as mad as you for coming here." 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 TiiE morning sun peeping through the window of the little 
 summer-house, roused its inmate at an early hour ; and finding 
 no signs of Mr. Beckendorff and his guest having yet arisen from 
 their slumbers, Vivian took the opportunity of strolling about 
 the gardens and the grounds. Directing his way along the margin 
 of the river, he soon left the lawn, and entered some beautiful 
 meadows, whose dewy verdure glistened in the brightening beams 
 of the early sun. Crossing these, and passing through a gate, he 
 found himself in a rural road, whose lofty hedge-rows, rich with 
 all the varieties of wild fruit and flower, and animated with the 
 cheering presence of the busy birds chirping from every bough 
 and spray, altogether presented a scone which reminded him of 
 the soft beauties of his own country. With some men, to re- 
 member is to be sad ; and unfortunately for Vivian Grey, there 
 were few objects which with him did not give rise to associations 
 of a painful nature. The strange occurrences of the last few 
 days had recalled, if not revived, the feelings of his boyhood. His 
 
VIVIAN GEKY. 321 
 
 early career flitted across his mind. He would have stifled the 
 remembrance with a sigh, but man is the slave of IMemory. For a 
 moment he mused over Power; but then he, shuddering, shrank 
 from the wearing anxiety, the consuming care, the eternal vigi- 
 lance, the constant contrivance, the agonising suspense, the dis- 
 tracting vicissitudes cf his past career. Alas ! it is our nature to 
 sicken, from our birth, after some object of unattainable felicity — 
 to struggle through the freshest years of our life in an insane pur- 
 suit after some indefinite good, which does not even exist ! But 
 sui'c, and quick, is the dark hour which cools our doting frenzy iu 
 the frigid waves of the ocean of Oblivion ! We dream of immor- 
 tality until we die. Ambition! at thy proud and fatal altar, we 
 whisper the secrets of our mighty thoughts, and breathe the as- 
 pirations of our inexpressible desires. A clouded flame Ucks up 
 the offering of our ruined souls, and the sacrifice vanishes in the 
 sable smoke of Death. 
 
 But where are his thoughts wandering ? Had he forgotten that 
 day of darkest despair ? There had that happened to him, which 
 had happened to no other man. He was roused from his reverie 
 by the sound of a trotting horse. He looked up, but the winding 
 road prevented him at first from seeing the steed which evidently 
 was approaching'. The sound came nearer and nearer ; and at 
 length, turning a corner, Mr. Beckendorfi" came iu sight. He 
 was mounted on a strong-built, rough, and ugly pony, with an 
 obstinate mane, which defying the exertions of the groom, fell in 
 equal divisions on both sides of its bottle neck ; and a large white 
 face, which, combined with its blinking vision, had earned for it the 
 euphonious title of Owlface. Both master and steed must have 
 travelled hard and far, for both were covered with dust and mud 
 from top to toe — from mane to hoof. Mr. Beckendorff seemed 
 surprised at meeting Vivian, and pulled up his pony as he reached 
 him. 
 
 " An early riser, I see, sir. Where is Mr. von Philipson ? " 
 
 " I have not yet seen him, and imagined that both he and your- 
 self had not yet risen." 
 
 " Hum! how many hours is it to noon?" asked Mr. Becken- 
 dorfi", who always spoke astrouoraically. 
 
 '• More than foui", I imagine." 
 
 '•' Pray do you prefer the country about here to Turriparva, ? " 
 
 •'• Both, I think, are beautiful." 
 
 " You live at Turriparva?" a-ked Mr. Beckendorff. 
 
 '• As a guest," answered Vivian. 
 
 '• Has it been a fine summer at Turriparva ? " 
 
 '• I believe, everywhere." 
 
 " I am afraid Mr. von. Philipson finds it ratlier dull here ?"' 
 
 21 
 
322 VIVIAN OBEY. 
 
 *' I am not aware of it." 
 
 *' He seems a ve— ry ?" said Beckendorff, looking keenly 
 
 in his companion's face. But Vivian did not supply the desired 
 phrase ; and so the Minister was forced to finish the sentence him- 
 self " a very gentlemanlike sort of man ? " A low bow was 
 
 the only response. 
 
 " I trust, sir, I may indulge the hope," continued Mr. Becken- 
 dorff, " that you will honour me with your company another 
 day." 
 
 " You are exceedingly obliging ! " 
 
 " Mr. von. Philipson is fond, I think, of a country life ? " said 
 Beckendorff. 
 
 "Most men are." 
 
 " I suppose he has no iunate objection to live occasionally in a 
 city?" 
 
 « Few have." 
 
 " You probably have known him long ? " 
 
 " Not long enough to wish our acquaintance at an end." 
 
 "Hum!" 
 
 They proceeded in silence for some moments, and then Becken- 
 dorfi" again turned round, and this time with a direct question. 
 
 " I wonder if Mr. von Philipson can make it convenient to ho- 
 nour me with his company another day. Can you tell me ? " 
 
 " I think the best person to inform you of that would be his 
 Highness himself," said Vivian, using his friend's title purposely to 
 show Mr. Beckendorfi" how ridiculous he considered his present use 
 of the incognito. 
 
 "You think so, sir, do you?" answered Beckendorff, sarcas- 
 tically. 
 
 They liad now an-ived at the gate by which Vivian had reached 
 the road. 
 
 " Your course, sir," said Mr. Beckendorff, " lies that way. I 
 see, like myself, you are no great talker. We shall meet at break- 
 fast." So saying, the Minister set spurs to his pony, and was soon 
 out of sight. 
 
 When Vivian reached the house, he found the bow-window of 
 the library thrown open ; and as he approached, he saw Mr. Beck- 
 endorff enter the room, and bow to the Prince. His Higliness 
 had passed a good night, in spite of not sleeping in a bed ; and he 
 was at tliis moment commencing a delicious breakfast. His ill- 
 humour had consequently vanislied. He had made up his mind 
 that Beckendorff was mad ; and altliougli he had given up all the 
 secret and flattering hopes which he had dared to entertain when 
 the interview was first arranged, lie nevertheless did not regret his 
 visit, which on the whole had been amusing, and had made him ac- 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 323 
 
 qnainted with the person and habits, and, as he believed, the intel- 
 lectual powers, of a man with whom, most probably, he should soon 
 be engaged in open hostility. Vivian took his seat at the break- 
 fast table, and Beckendorff stood conversing with them with his 
 back to the fire-place, and occasionally, during the pauses of con- 
 versation, pulling the strings of his violin with his fingers. It did 
 not escape Vivian's observation that the Minister was particularly 
 courteous and even attentive to the Prince ; and that he endea- 
 voured by his quick and more communicative answers, and oc- 
 casionally by a stray observation, to encourage the good humour 
 which was visible on the cheerful countenance of his guest. 
 
 " Have you been long up, Mr. Beckendorff ? " asked the Prince; 
 for his host had resumed his dressing-gown and slippers. 
 
 *' I generally see the sun rise." 
 
 " And yet you retire late ! — out riding last night, I understand?" 
 
 " I never go to bed." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said the Prince. " "Well, for my part, without my 
 egular rest, I am nothing. Have you breakfasted, Mr. Beck- 
 endorff?" 
 
 " Clara wnll bring my breakfast immediately." 
 
 The dame accordingly soon appeared, bearing a tray with a basin 
 of boiling water, and one large thick biscuit. This Mr. Beck- 
 endorff having well soaked in the hot fluid, eagerly devoured : and 
 then taking up his violin, amused himself until his guests had 
 finished their breakfast. 
 
 When Vivian had ended his meal, he left the Prince and Beck- 
 endorff alone, determined that his presence should not be the oc- 
 casion of the Minister any longer retarding the commencement of 
 business. The Prince, who by a private glance had been pre- 
 pared for his departure, immediately took the opportunity of ask- 
 ing Mr. Beckendorff, iu a decisive tone, whether he might flatter 
 himself that he could command his present attention to a subject 
 of great importance. Mr. Beckendorft" said that he was always at 
 Mr. von Philipson's service ; and drawing a chair opposite him, 
 the Prince and Mr. Beckendorff now sat on each side of the fire- 
 place. 
 
 " Hem ! " said the Prince, clearing his throat ; and he looked at 
 Mr. Beckendorff, who sat with his heels close together, his toes out 
 square, his hands resting on his knees, which, as well as his elbows, 
 were turned out, his shoulders bent, his head reclined, and his eyes 
 glancing. 
 
 "Hem!" said the Prince of Little Lilliput. "In compliance, 
 Mr. Beckendorff, with your wish, developed in the communication 
 
 received by me on the inst., I assented in my answer to the 
 
 arrangement then proposed; the object of which was, to use your 
 
824 VIVIAN GEET. 
 
 own words, to facilitate the occurrence of an oral intcrcliauge of 
 tlie sentiments of various parties interested in certain proceeclng?, 
 by wliich interchange it v.'as anticipated that the mutual interests 
 might be respectively considered and finally arranged. Prior, Mr. 
 BecliendorlT, to either of us going into any detail upon those points 
 of probable discussion, which will, in all likelihood, form the fun- 
 damental features of this interview, I wish to recall your attention 
 to the paper which I had the honour of presenting to his Royal 
 
 Highness, and which is alluded to in your communication of the 
 
 inst. The principal heads of that document I have brought with 
 me, abridged in this paper." 
 
 Here the Prince handed to IMr. BeckendorfF a MS. pamphlet, 
 consisting of several sheets closely written. The Minister bowed 
 very graciously as he took it from his Highness' hand ; and then, 
 without even looking at it, laid it on the table. 
 
 " You, sir, I perceive," continued the Prince, " are acquainted 
 with its contents ; and it will therefore be unnecessary for me afc 
 present to expatiate upon their individual expediency, or to argue 
 for their particular adoption. And, sir, when we observe the pro- 
 gress of the human mind, when v.'e take into consideration the 
 quick march of intellect, and the wide expansion of enlightened 
 views and liberal priucii)les — when we take a bird's-eye view of the 
 history of mrai from the earliest ages to the present moment, I feel 
 that it would be folly in me to conceive for an instant, that the mea- 
 sures developed and recommended in that paper will not finally 
 receive the approbation of his Royal Highness. As to the exact 
 origin of slavery, Mr. Ecckendorff, I confess that I am not, at this 
 moment, prepared distinctly to speak. That the Divine Author of 
 our religion was its decided enemy, I am informed, is clear. That 
 the slavery of ancient times was the oi'igin of the feudal service of 
 a more modern period, is a point on which men of learniug have 
 not precisely made up their minds. With regard to the exact state 
 of the ancient German people, Tacitus affords us a great deal of 
 most interesting information. Whether or not, certain passages 
 which I have brought with me marked in the Germania are in- 
 contestable evidences that our ancestors enjoyed or understood the 
 practice of a wise and well-regulated representative system, is a 
 point on v.'hich I shall be ha])py to receive tlie opinion of so dis- 
 tinguished a statesman as JNIr. Beckeudorti". In stepping forward, 
 as I have felt it my duty to do, as the advocate of popular rights 
 and national privileges, I am desirous to prove that I have not be- 
 come the votary of innovation and tlie professor of revolutionary 
 doctrines. The passages of the Roman author in question, and 
 an ancient charter of the I'^mperor Cliarlemagne, are, I consider, 
 deceive and sufficient precedents for the mea^surcs which I have 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 325 
 
 thought proper to sanction by my approval, and to support by my 
 influence. A Minister, Mr. Beckendorff, must take care that in 
 the g-reat race of politics the minds of his countrymen do not leave 
 his own behind them. We must never forget the powers and ca- 
 pabilities of man. On this very spot, perhaps, some centuries ago 
 savages clothed in skins were committing cannibalism in a forest 
 We must not forget, I repeat, that it is the business of those to 
 whom Providence has allotted the responsible possession of power 
 and influence — that it is their duty — our duty, Jlr. Ceckcndorff — 
 to become guardians of our weaker fellow-creatures — that all pOYv'er 
 is a trust — that we are accountable for its exercise — that, from the 
 people, and for the people, all springs, and all must exist ; and that, 
 unless we conduct ourselves with the requisite wisdom, prudence, 
 and propriety, the whole system of society will be disorganised; 
 and this country, in particular, will fall a victim to that system of 
 corruption and misgovernment, which has already occasioned the de- 
 struction of the great king-doms mentioned in the Bible ; and many 
 other States besides — Greece, Rome, Carthage, &;c." 
 
 Thus ended the peroration of an harangue, consisting of an 
 incoherent arrangement of imperfectly-remembered facts, and 
 misunderstood principles; all gleaned by his Highness from the 
 enhghtening articles of the Reisenburg journals. Like Brutus, 
 the Prince of Little Lilliput paused for a reply. 
 
 " Mr. von Philipson," said his companion, when his Highness 
 had finished, " you speak like a man of sense." Having given 
 this answer, Mr. Beckendorff rose from his seat, and walked 
 straight out of the room. 
 
 The Prince, at first, took the answer for a compliment ; but Mr. 
 Beckendorff not returning, he began to have a faint idea that he 
 was neglected. In this uncertainty, he rang the bell for his friend 
 Clara. 
 
 " Mrs. Clara ! where is your master ? " 
 
 " Just gone out, sir.'"' 
 
 " Hov/ do you mean ? " 
 
 " He has gone out with his gun, sir." 
 
 " You are quite sure he has gone out ? " 
 
 " Quite sure, sir. I took him his coat and boots myself." 
 
 " I am to understand, then, that your master has gone out ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, Mr. Beckendorff has gone out. He will be home for 
 his noon-meal." 
 
 " That is enough ! — Grey ! " called out the indignant Prince, 
 darting into the garden. 
 
 " Well, my dear Prince," said Vivian, " what can possibly be 
 the matter?" 
 
 " The matter ! insanity can bo the only excuse ; insanity can 
 
0-2G VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 alone account for his preposterous conduct. We have seen enough 
 of hira. The repetition of absurdity is only wearisome. Pray 
 assist me in getting our horses immediately." 
 
 " Certainly, if you wish it; but remember you brought me here 
 as your friend and counsellor. As I have accepted the trust, I 
 cannot help being sensible of the responsibility. Before, therefore, 
 you finally resolve upon departure, pray let me be fully acquainted 
 with the circumstances which has impelled you to this sudden 
 resolution." 
 
 " Willingly, my good friend, could I only command my temper; 
 and yet to fall into a passion with a madman is almost a mark of 
 madness : but his manner and his conduct are so provoking and so 
 puzzling, that I cannot altogether repress my irritability. And that 
 ridiculous incognito! why I sometimes begin to think that I really 
 am Mr. von Philipson ! An incognito forsooth ! for what ? to de- 
 ceive whom ? His household apparently only consists of two per- 
 sons, one of whom has visited me in my own castle ; and the other 
 is a cross old hag, who would not be able to comprehend my rank 
 if she were aware of it. But to the point ! When you left the 
 room, I was determined to be trifled with no longer, and I asked 
 hira in a firm voice, and very marked manner, whether I might 
 command his immediate attention to very important business. He 
 professed to be at my service. I opened the nflfair by taking a 
 cursory, yet definite, review of the principles in which my poli- 
 tical conduct had originated, anil on which it was founded. I 
 flattered myself that I had produced an impression. Sometimes 
 we are in a better cue for these expositions than at others, and 
 to-day I was really unusually felicitous. My memory never de- 
 serted. I was, at the same time, luminous and profound ; and 
 v/hile I was guided by the philosophical spirit of the present day, I 
 showed, by my various reading, that I respected the experience of 
 antiquity. In short, I was satisfied with myself; and with the ex- 
 ception of one single point about the origin of slavery, which un- 
 fortunately got entangled with the feudal system, I could not have 
 got on better had Sievers himself been at my side. Nor did I 
 spare Mr. Beckendorff"; but on the contrary, I said a few things 
 which, had he been in his senses, must, I imagine, have gone 
 home. Do you know I finished by drawing his own character, 
 and showing the inevitable effects of his ruinous policy: and what 
 do you think he did?" 
 
 " Left you in a passion ? " 
 
 " Not at all. He seemed very much struck by what I had said, 
 and apparently understood it. I have heard that in some species 
 of insanity the patient is perfectly able to compreliend everytliing 
 addressed to him, though at that poiut his sanity ceases, and he is 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 337 
 
 unable to answer, or to act. This must be Beckendorff's case ; for 
 uo sooner had I finished, than he rose up immediately, and saying 
 that I spoke like a man of sense, abruptly quitted the room. The 
 housekeeper says he will not be at home again till that infernal 
 ceremony takes place, called the noon-meal. Now do not you ad- 
 vise me to be off as soon as possible ? " 
 
 " It will require some deliberation. Pray did you not speak to 
 him last night?" 
 
 "Ah! I forgot that I had not been able to speak to you since 
 then. Well! last night, what do you think he did? When you 
 were gone, he had the insolence to congratulate me on the oppor- 
 tunity then afforded of playing double dummy; and when I de- 
 clined his proposition, but said that if he wished to have an hour's 
 conversation I was at his service, lie very coolly told me that he 
 never talked, and bade me good night! Did you ever know such a 
 madman ? He never goes to bed. I only had a sofa. How the 
 deuce did you sleep ? " 
 
 " Well, and safely, considering that I was in a summer-house 
 •without lock or bolt." 
 
 " Well ! I need not ask you now as to your opinion of our imme- 
 diately getting off. We shall have, however, some trouble about 
 our horses, for he will not allow a quadruped near the house, ex- 
 cept some monster of an animal that he rides himself; and by 
 St. Hubert ! I cannot find out where our steeds are. What shall 
 we do ? " But Vivian did not answer. " What are you thinking 
 of? " continued his Highness. " Why don't you answer ? " 
 
 '•' Your Highness must not go," said Vivian, shakmg his head. 
 
 " Not go ! why so ? " 
 
 " Depend upon it, you are wrong about Beckendorff. That he 
 s a humourist, there is no doubt ; but il appears to me to be equally 
 clear, that his queer habits and singular mode of life are not of 
 late adoption. What he is now, he must have been these ten, per- 
 haps these twenty years, perhaps more. Of this there are a thou- 
 sand proofs about us. As to the overpowering cause which has 
 made him the character he appears at present, it is needless for 
 us to inquire. Probably some incident in his private life, in all 
 likelihood connected with the mysterious picture. Let us be satis- 
 fied with the effect. If the case be as I state it, in his private life 
 and habits Beckendorff must have been equally incomprehensible 
 and equally singular at the very time that, in his public capacity, 
 he was producing such brilliant results, as at the present moment. 
 Now then, can we believe him to be insane ? I anticipate your ob- 
 jections. I know you will enlarge upon the evident absurdity of 
 his inviting his political opponent to his house, for a grave con- 
 sultation ou the most important affairs, and then treating him as 
 
328 viviAK c-r.EY. 
 
 he has done you ; when it must be clear to him that you cannot be 
 again duped, and when he must feel that, were he to amuse you lor 
 as many weeks as he has days, your plans and your position would 
 not be injuriously affected. Be it so. — Probably a humourist like 
 Beckendorff cannot, even in the most critical moment, altos'ether 
 restrain the bent of his capricious inclinations. However, my 
 dear Prince, I will lay no stress upon this point. My opinion, 
 indeed ray conviction, is, that Beckendorff acts from desig'u. I 
 have considered his conduct well ; and 1 have observed all that 
 you have seen, and more than you have seen, and keenly. De- 
 pend upon it, that since you assented to the interview, Beckendorff 
 has been obliged to shift his intended position for negotiation. 
 Some of the machinery has gone wrong. Fearful, if he had post- 
 poned your visit, you should imagine that he was only again amus- 
 ing you, and consequently would listen to no future overtures, he has 
 allowed you to attend a conference for which he is not prepared. 
 That he is making desperate exertions to bring the business to a 
 point is my firm opinion; and you would perhaps agree with me, 
 were you as convinced as I am, that since we parted last night our 
 host has been to Reisenburg and back again." 
 
 " To Reisenburg, and back again ! " 
 
 " Ay ! I rose this morning at an early hour, and imagining that 
 both you and Beckendorff had not yet made your appeai'auce, I 
 escaped from the grounds, intending to explore part of the sur- 
 rounding country. In my stroll I came to a narrow winding 
 road, which I am convinced lies in the direction towards Reisen- 
 burg ; there, for some reason or other, I loitered more than an 
 hour, and very probably should have been too late for breakfast, 
 had not I been recalled to myself by the approach of a horse- 
 man. It was Beckendorff, covered with dust and mud. His horse 
 had been evidently hard ridden. I did not think much of it at the 
 time, because I supposed he might have been out for three or four 
 hours, and hard-worked, but I nevei theless was struck by his ap- 
 pearance ; and when you mentioned that he went out riding at a 
 late hour last night, it immediately occurred to me, that had he 
 come home at one or two o'clock, it was not very probable that he 
 would have gone out again at four or five. I have no doubt that 
 my conjecture is correct — Beckendorff has been to Reisenburg." 
 
 " You have placed this business in a new and important light," 
 said the Prince, his expiring hopes reviving ; " what, then, do you 
 advise me to do ? " 
 
 " To be quiet. If your own view of the case be right, you can 
 act as well to-morrow or the next day as this moment ; on the 
 contrary, if mine be the correct one, a moment may enable 
 Beckendorff himself to bring affairs to a crisis. In eitlier case, I 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 32d 
 
 should recommend you to be silent, and in no manner to allude 
 any more to the object of your visit. If you speak, you only give 
 opportunities to BecicendorfT of ascertaining your opinions and 
 your inclinations ; and your silence, after such frequent attempts on 
 your side to promote discussion upon business, Avill soon be dis- 
 covered by him to be systematic. This will not decrease his 
 opinion of your sagacity and firmness. The first principle of 
 negotiation is to make your adversary respect you." 
 
 After long consultation, the Prince determined to follow Vivian's 
 advice ; and so firmly did he adhere to his purpose, that when he 
 met Mr. Beckendorfif at the noon meal, he asked him, with a very 
 unembarrassed voice and manner, " what sport ho had had in the 
 morning." 
 
 The noon meal again consisted of a single dish, as exquisitely 
 dressed, however, as the preceding one. It was a haunch of 
 venison. 
 
 "This is my dinner, gentlemen," said Beckendorff; "let it be 
 your luncheon ; I have ordered your dinner at sunset." 
 
 After having eaten a slice of the haunch, Mr. Beckendorff rose 
 from table, and said, " We will have our wine in the drawing-room, 
 Mr. von PhiUpson, and then you will not be disturbed by my 
 birds." 
 
 He left the room. 
 
 To the drawing-room, therefore, his two guests soon adjourned. 
 They found him busily employed with his pencil. The Prince 
 thought it must be a cliart or a fortification at least, and was 
 rather surprised when Mr. Beckendorff asked him the magnitude 
 of Mirac in Bootes ; and the Prince, confessing his utter ignorance 
 of the subject, the Minister threw aside his unfinished Planisphere, 
 and drew his chair to them at the table. It was with satisfactiou 
 that his Highness perceived a bottle of his favourite Tokay; and 
 with no little astonishment he observed that, to-day, there were 
 three wine-glasses placed before them. They were of peculiar 
 beauty, and almost worthy, for their elegant shapes and great 
 antiquity, of being included in the collection of the Grand-Duke of 
 Johaunisberger. 
 
 After exhausting their bottle, in which they were assisted to the 
 extent of one glass by their host, who drank Mr. von Philipsou's 
 health with cordiality, they assented to Mr. Beckendorff's propo 
 sition of visiting his fruitery. 
 
 To the Prince's great relief, dinner-time soon arrived; and 
 having employed a couple of hours on that meal very satisfactorily, 
 he and Vivian adjourned to the drawing-room, having previously 
 pledged their honour to each other, that nothing should agaia 
 
330 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 induce them to play dummy whist. Their resolutions and their 
 promises were needless. Mr. Beckendorff, who was silting oppo- 
 site the fire when they came into the room, neither hy word nor 
 motion acknowledged that he was aware of their entrance. 
 Vivian found refuge in a book; and the Prince, after having 
 examined and re-examined the brilliant birds that figured on the 
 drawing-room paper, fell asleep upon the sofa. Mr. Beckendorff 
 took down the guitar, and accompanied himself in a low voice for 
 some time ; then he suddenly ceased, and stretching out his legs, 
 and supporting his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat, he 
 leant back in his chair, and remained motionless, with his eyes 
 fixed upon the picture. Vivian, in turn gazed upon this singular 
 being, and the fair pictured form which he seemed to idolise. 
 Was he, too, unhappy ? Had he too been bereft in the hour of his 
 proud and perfect joy ? Had he too lost a virgin bride ? His 
 agony overcame him, the book fell from his hand, and he sighed 
 aloud! Mr. Beckendorff started, and the Prince awoke. Vivian, 
 confounded, and unable to overpower his emotions, uuered some 
 hasty words, explanatory, apologetical, and contradictory, and 
 retired. In his walk to the summer-house, a man passed him 
 In spite of a great cloak, Vivian recognised him as their messengei 
 and guide ; and his ample mantle did not conceal his riding boots, 
 and the spurs which glistened in the moonlight. 
 
 It was an hour past midnight when the door of the summer- 
 house softly opened, and Mr. Beckendorfi" entered. He started when 
 he found Vivian still undressed, and pacing up and down the little 
 chamber. The young man made an effort, when he witnessed an 
 intruder, to compose a countenance whose agitation could not be 
 concealed. 
 
 " What, are you up again ? " said Mr. Beckendorfi'. " Are you 
 ill?" 
 
 "Would I were as well in mind as in body! I have not yet 
 been to rest. We cannot command our feelings at all moments, 
 t-ir ; and at this, especially, I felt that I had a right to count upon 
 being alone." 
 
 " I exceedingly regret that I have disturbed you," said Mr. Beck- 
 endorfi", in a kind voice, and in a manner which responded to the 
 sympathy of his tone. " I thought that you had been long asleep. 
 There is a star which I cannot exactly make out. I fancy it must 
 be a comet, and so I ran to the observatory ; but let me not disturb 
 you;" and Mr. Beckendorrt' was retiring. 
 
 " You do not disturb me, sir. I cannot sleep : pray ascend." 
 
 *' Never mind the star. But if you really have no inclination to 
 ideep, let us sit down, and have a little conversation j or perhaps 
 
I 
 
 VIVIAN GREY. 331 
 
 wc bad better take a stroll. It is a warm nigbt." As he 
 spoke, Mr. Beckeudorflf gently put his arm withia Vivian's and led 
 him down the steps. 
 
 " Are you an astronomer, sir ? " asked Beckendorff. 
 
 "I can tell the great Bear from the little Dog; but I confess 
 that I look upon the stars rather in a poetical than a scientific 
 spirit." 
 
 " Hum ! I confess I do not." 
 
 " There are moments," continued Vivian, " when I cannot 
 refrain from believing that these mysterious luminaries have more 
 influence over our fortunes than modern times are disposed to 
 believe. I feel that I am getting less sceptical, perhaps I should 
 say more credulous, every day; but sorrow makes us super- 
 stitious." 
 
 " I discard all such fantasies," said Mr. Beckendorff; "they only 
 tend to enervate our mental energies, and paralyse all human ex- 
 ertion. It is the belief in these, and a thousand other deceits I 
 could mention, which teach man that he is not the master of his 
 own mind, but the ordained victim, or the chance sport of circum- 
 stances, that makes millions pass through life unimpressive as 
 shadows ; and has gained for this existence the stigma of a vanity 
 which it does not deserve." 
 
 " I wish that I could think as you do," said Vi^'ian ; " but the 
 experience of my life forbids me. Within only these last two years, . 
 my career has, in so many instances, indicated that I am not the 
 master of my own conduct ; that, no longer able to resist the con- 
 viction which is hourly impressed on me, I recognise in every con- 
 tingency the pre-ordination of ray fate." 
 
 "A delusion of the brain!" said Beckendorff, very quickly. 
 "Fate, Destiny, Chance, particular and special Providence — idle 
 words ! Dismiss them all, sir ! A man's fate is his own temper ; 
 and according to that will be his opinion as to the particular man- 
 ner in which the course of events is regulated. A consistent man 
 believes in Destiny — a capricious man in Chance." 
 
 " But, sir, what is a man's temper ? It may be changed every 
 hour. I started in life Avith very different feelings from those 
 which I profess at this moment. With great deference to you, I 
 imagine that you mistake the effect for the cause ; for surely tem- 
 per is not the origin, but the result of those circumstances of which 
 we are all the creatures." 
 
 " Sir, I deny it. Man is not the crenture of circumstances. 
 Circumstances are the creatures of men. We are free agents, and 
 man is more powerful than matter. I recognise no intervening 
 influence between that of the established course of nature, and my 
 own mind. Truth may be distorted — may be stifled — be suppressed. 
 
332 VIVIAN GEET. 
 
 The iuvention of ciiuning deceits may, and in most instances does, 
 prevent man from exercising- his own powers. They have made 
 him responsible to a realm of shadows, and a suitor in a court of 
 shades. He is ever dreading authority which does not exist, and 
 fearing the occurrence of penalties whicli there are none to enforce. 
 But the mind that dares to extricate itself from these vulgar pre- 
 judices, that proves its loyalty to its Creator by devoting all its 
 adoration to his glory — such a spirit as this becomes a master-mind, 
 and that master-mind will invariably find that circumstances are 
 its slaves." 
 
 " llr. Beckendorff, yours is a very bold philosophy, of which I, 
 myself, was once a votary. How successful in my service, you may 
 judge by finding me a wanderer." 
 
 " Sir ! your present age is the age of error : your whole system 
 is founded on a fallacy: you believe that a man's temper can 
 change. I deny it. If you have ever seriously entertained the 
 views which I profess ; if, as you lead me to suppose, you have 
 dared to act upon them, and failed ; sooner or later, whatever may 
 be your present conviction, and your present feelings, you will 
 recur to your original wishes, and your original pursuits. With a 
 mind experienced and matured, you may in all probability be suc- 
 cessful ; and then I suppose, stretching your legs in your easy 
 chair, you will at tlie same moment be convinced of your own 
 genius, and recognise your owai Destiny!" 
 
 " With regard to myself, Mr. Beckendorff, I am convinced of 
 the erroneousness of your views. It is my opinion, that no one 
 who has dared to think, can look upon this world in any other than 
 a mournful spirit. Young as I am, nearly two years have elapsed 
 since, dii-gusted with the world of politics, I retired to a foreign 
 solitude. At length, with passions subdued, and, as I flatter my- 
 self, with a mind matured, convinced of the vanity of all human 
 affairs, I felt emboldened once jnore partially to mingle with my 
 species. Bitter as my lot had been, I had discovered the origin 
 of my misery in my own unbridled passions; and, tranquil and 
 subdued, I now trusted to pass through life as certain of no fresh 
 sorrows, as I was of no fresh joys. And yet, sir, I am at this 
 
 moment sinking under the infliction of unparalleled misery 
 
 misery which I feel I have a right to believe was undeserved. But 
 why expatiate to a stranger on sorrow which must be secret ? I 
 deliver myself up to my remorseless Fate." 
 
 " What is Grief?" said Mr. Beckendorff;—" if it be excited by 
 the fear of some contingency, instead of grieving, a man should 
 exert his energies, and prevent its occurrence. If, on the con- 
 trary, it be caused by an event, that which has been occasioned by 
 anything human, by the co-operation of humun circumstances, can 
 
VIVIAN GEEY. 333 
 
 be, and invariably is, removed by the same means. Grief is the 
 agony of au instant ; the indulgence of Grief, the blunder of a 
 life. Jklix in the world, and in a mouth's time you will speak to 
 me very differently. A young man, you meet v/ith disap- 
 pointment, — in spite of all your exalted notions of your own 
 powers, you immediately sink under it. If your belief of your 
 powers were sincere, you should have proved it by the manner iu 
 which you have struggled against adversity, not merely by the 
 mode iu which you laboured for advancement. The latter is 
 but a very inferior merit. If in fact you wish to succeed, success, 
 I repeat, is at your command. You talk to me of your experience ; 
 and do you think that my sentiments are the crude opinions of an 
 unpractised man ? Sir ! 1 am not fond of conversing with any 
 person ; and, therefore, far from being inclined to maintain an 
 argument in a spirit of insincerity, merely for the sake of a victoi'y 
 of words. jNIark what I say : it is truth. No Minister ever yet 
 fell, but from his own inelficiency. If his downfall be occasioned, 
 as it generally is, by the intrigues of one of his own creatures, his 
 downfall is merited for having been the dupe of a tool, which iu 
 all probability he should never have employed. If he fall through 
 the open attacks of his political opponents, his dovmfall is equally 
 deserved, for having occasioned by his impolicy the formation of a 
 party ; for having allowed it to be formed ; or for not having 
 crushed it wheu formed. No conjuncture can possibly occur, 
 however fearful, however tremendous it may appear, from which 
 a man, by his own energy, may not extricate himself — as a ma- 
 riner by the rattling of Ids cannon can dissipate the impending- 
 water-spout!" 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 It was on the third day of the visit to Mr. Beckendorff, just as 
 that gentleman was composing his mind after his noon meal with 
 his favourite Cremona, and iu a moment of rapttire raising his in- 
 strument high in air, that the door was suddenly daslied open, 
 and Essper George rushed into the room. The intruder, the mo- 
 ment that his eye caught Vivian, flew to his master, and seizing 
 him by the arm, commenced and continued a loud shout of exulta- 
 tion, accompanying his scream the whole time by a kind of quick 
 dance ; which, though not quite as clamorous as the Pyrrhic, never- 
 theless completely drowned the scientific harmony of ilr. Becken- 
 dorff. 
 
 So astounded were the three gentlemen by this unexpected en- 
 trance, that some moments elapsed ere either of them found 
 
334 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 words ftt Ilia command. At length the master of the Louse 
 spoke. 
 
 " Mr. von Philipson, I beg the favour of being informed who 
 this person is ?" 
 
 The Prince did not answer, but looked at Vivian in great dis- 
 tress ; and just as our hero was about to give Mr. BeckendorflF 
 the requisite information, Essper George, taking up the parable 
 himself, seized the opportunity of explaining the mystery. 
 
 " Who am I ? — who are you ? I am an honest man, and no 
 traitor ; and if all were the same, why then there would be no 
 rogues in Eeisenburg. Who am I ? — a man. There's an arm ! 
 there's a leg ! Can you see through a wood by twilight ? if so, 
 yours is a better eye than mine. Can you eat an unskinned 
 hare, or dine on the haunch of a bounding stag ? if so, your teeth 
 are sharper than mine. Can you hear a robber's footstep when 
 he's kneeling before murder ? or can you listen to the snow fall- 
 ing on Midsummer's day ? if so, your ears are finer than mine. 
 Can you run witli a chamois ? — can you wrestle with a bear ? — 
 can you swim with an otter ? if so, I'm your match. How many 
 cities have you seen ? — how many knaves have you gulled? — 
 Which is dearest, bread or justice ? — Why do men pay more for 
 the protection of life, than life itself? — Is cheatery a staple at 
 Constantinople as it is at Vienna ? — and what's the difference 
 between a Baltic merchant and a Greek pirate ? — tell me all this, 
 and I will teU you who went in mourning in the moon at the death 
 of the last comet. Who am I, indeed ! " 
 
 The embarrassment of the Prince and Vivian, while Essper 
 George addressed to Mr. Beckendorff these choice queries, was 
 indescribable. Once Vivian tried to check him, but in vain. He 
 did not repeat his attempt, for he was sufficiently employed in 
 restraining his own agitation, and keeping his own countenance ; 
 for in spite of the mortification and anger that Essper's appear- 
 ance had excited in him, still an unfortunate, but innate taste for 
 the ludicrous, did not allow him to be perfectly insensible to the 
 liumour of the scene. Mr. Beckendorft' listened very quietly till 
 Essper had finished — he then rose. 
 
 '■ Mr. von Pliilipson," said he, " as a personal favour to yourself, 
 and to my own great inconvenience, I consented that in this inter- 
 view you should be attended by a friend. I did not reckon upon 
 your servant, and it is impossible that I can tolerate his presence 
 for a moment. You know how I live, and that my sole attendant 
 is a female. I allow no male servants witliin this liouse. Even 
 when his Royal lliglincss honours me with his presence, he is un- 
 attended. I desire that I am immediately I'cleased from the pre- 
 sence of this bulfoon." 
 
VIVIAN GRET. 335 
 
 So saying-, Mr. Beckendorflf left the room. 
 
 " Who are you ?" said Essper following him, with his back bent, 
 his head on his chest, and his eyes glancing. The imitation was 
 perfect. 
 
 " Essper," said Vivian, " your conduct is inexcusable, the mis- 
 chief that you have done irreparable, and your punishment shall 
 be severe." 
 
 " Severe ! Why, what day did my master sell his gratitude for a 
 silver groschen ! Is this the return for finding you out, and saving- 
 you from a thousand times more desperate gang than that Baron 
 at Ems ! Severe indeed will be your lot when you are in a dun- 
 geon in Reisenburg Castle, with black bread for roast venison, and 
 sour water for Rhenish ! " 
 
 " Why, what are you talking about ?" 
 
 " Talking about ! About treason, and arch traitors, and an old 
 scoundrel who lives in a lone lane, and dares not look you straight 
 in the face. Why, his very blink is enough to hang him without 
 trial ! " 
 
 " Essper, cease immediately this rhodomontade, and then in dis- 
 tinct terms inform his Highness and myself of the causes of this 
 unparalleled intrusion." 
 
 The impressiveness of Vivian's manner produced a proper 
 effect; and except that he spoke somewhat affectedly slow, and 
 ridiculously precise, Essper George delivered himself with great 
 clearness. 
 
 " You see, sir, you never let me know that you were going to 
 leave, and so when I found that you did not come back, I made bold 
 to speak to Mr. Arnelm when he came home from hunting ; but I 
 could not get enough breath out of him to stop a lady-bird on a 
 rose-leaf. I did not much like it, your honour, for I was among 
 strangers, and so were you, you know. Well, then, I went to 
 Master Rodolpli: he was very kind to mo, and seeing me in low 
 spirits, and thinking me, I suppose, in love, or in debt, or that I had 
 done some piece of mischief, or had something or other preying on 
 my mind ; he comes to me, and says, ' Essper,' said he — you re- 
 member Master Rodolph's voice, sir ?" 
 
 "To the point. Never let me hear Master Rodolph's name 
 again." 
 
 "Yes, sir! Well, well! he said to me, ' Come and dine with 
 me in my room ;' says I, ' I will.' A good offer should never be re- 
 fused, unless we have a better one at the same time. Whereupon, 
 after dinner. Master Rodolph said to me — ' We will have a bottle 
 of Burgundy for a treat.' You see, sir, we were rather sick of the 
 Rhenish. Well, sir, we were free with the wine; and Master 
 Rodolph, who is never easy except when he knows everything, 
 
336 
 
 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 secre to another bottle ; which ^beinl' p g / Tdf] 'T'^''' 
 
 -om hnn any longer what was makino^irsoW^ ^^^^^ 
 
 I do not hke mj young- naaster o-oino-Ct in h n ^ ^ ^'^'' '"^'"^ ^ 
 
 ^temper to g-et into scrapes, and I slioullKl ""'"^ •' ^'' '' «" 
 
 what he and the Prince (L- n Aour T," ' """^ °^"^^ *« ^^^^ 
 
 They have been shut un in tha C b " p ,f "'f ^^'^^^"^^> ^''^ ^^^r. 
 
 I walked by the door nret y offen d ^f-*^' ^^'^^^^nd though 
 
 tiarough the l^ey-hole ;T2o ; :;f :r: ;:^ ^ ^^f '''' ^'^'- 
 
 a bottle or two of Buro-undv to l!' ^'''^''^P}'' ^^^^ I, 'it requires 
 
 His-hness, strange to t nl soot'l "f ?""'' "P"' '^^"' ^•«"'' 
 
 f odolph put hifhead Sisfthe S ^e ^^"'r"' /''^" '^ ^^^^^ 
 
 table^^ the right hand of the ro^V^-:^, '' ''' ''''^ 
 
 " Go on." 
 
 " I am going on 
 
 eye, he was qtiet.^ I ^ a u .' /vV'"''''' ''"'^ "^^ ^"^ 
 
 directly but after the thirdtrtllK^jlt.^^^ 
 to your last observation (for we Ind not t.nl , ' '"^^' ''°ard 
 being too fat a wine for talkingr; te ,1 f of '" T''' """''S'""^^ 
 dare say now, you and T nr. . ^ . ^"' '^^''''•1' ^^^"o^vs. I 
 
 doubt of it,' s;inod^i l^!n 1 '" 'T ^^"^-' '^^« 
 
 be was tliinking of, on conct on /] T' t'' f ^'''"'^ '"^ *^^^ "^^ ^'^^at 
 
 ^-ards. w;il, CrS'Le r tS^er: X"^ ^^^ 
 at lurnparva." "'-^^ weie saugouig-s on 
 
 "The deuce! "said the Prince 
 
 Let h„n tell his story," said Vivian. 
 
 fead goings on at Turrinarvn i w<. „ • i , , 
 would hunt n.ore, and atteri^'t.iv^^^'^^ '^'""^ ^"^ ^^^S^nye.s 
 quite confidentially, In rU ^'^^'^f ' ""' '^^'^'^ ^^^ ^old me, 
 
 I-ows how many o^ie^PritesSdeTl^^^^ '''' ^^-- 
 
 were going to dethrone the GranclDu ' fT""^ ''^^''^'''^ ^''^ 
 
 to be made Kino, and he M.ster p'^f \ ' T^ *''"' ^"^ "^''^^''^'- ^vas 
 '•n.- all this, and'duly 1 I't ' „f a h1 ' '^""",'^""^^^--- "ear- 
 doubt, as I find to be'the cl^tln 'u o T " ^'''''' ^ ^^^^ "o 
 be led into some mischief a^d, 7',^;°'^ Tf^' ^^^^e about to 
 always unsuccessful, I have done n^v 1,1 T '^^"^Piracies are 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 337 
 
 whisper. " Essper," at length Vivian said, " you have committed 
 one of the most perfect and most injurious blunders that you could 
 possibly perpetrate. The mischief which may result from your 
 imprudent conduct is incalculable. How long is it since you have 
 thought proper to regulate your conduct on the absurd falsehoods 
 of a drunken steward ? His Highness and myself wish to consult 
 in private ; but on no account leave the house. Now mind me ; 
 if you leave this house without my permission, you forfeit the little 
 chance which remains of being retained in my service." 
 " Where am I to go, sir ? " 
 " Stay in the passage." 
 
 " Suppose (here he imitated Beckendorff) comes to me." 
 " Then open the door, and come into this room." 
 " Well," said the Prince, when the door was at length shut ; 
 " one thing is quite clear. He does not know who Beckendorff is." 
 " So far satisfactory ; but I feel the force of your Highness' 
 observations. It is a most puzzling case. To send liim back to 
 Turriparva would bo madness : the whole affair would be imme- 
 diately revealed over another bottle of Burgundy with Master 
 Rodolph ; in fact, your Highness' visit would be a secret to no one 
 in the country : your host would be soon discovered, and the evil 
 consequences are incalculable. I know no one to send him to at 
 Reiseuburg ; and if I did, it appears to me that the same objec- 
 tions equally apply to his proceeding to that city as to his returning 
 to Turriparva. What is to be done ? Surely some demon must 
 have inspired him. We cannot now request Beckendorff to allow 
 him to stay here ; and if we did, I am convinced, from his tone and 
 manner, that nothing could induce him to comply with our wish. 
 The only course to be pursued is certainly an annoying one ; but 
 so fiir as I can judge, it is the only mode by which very serious 
 mischief can be prevented. Let me proceed forthwith to Reiseu- 
 burg with Essper. Placed immediately under my eye, and solemnly 
 adjured by me to silence, I think I can answer, particularly when 
 I give him a gentle hint of the station of Beckendorff, for his pre- 
 serving the confidence with which it will now be our policy par- 
 tially to entrust him. It is, to say the least, awkward and dis- 
 tressing to leave you alone, but what is to be done ? It does not 
 appear that I can now be of any material service to you. I have 
 assisted you as much, and more, than we could reasonably have sup- 
 posed it would have been in my power to have done, by throwing 
 some light upon the character and situation of Beckendorff. With 
 the clue to his conduct, which my chance meeting with him yester- 
 day morning has afforded us, the only point for your Highness to 
 determine is, as to the length of time you will resolve to wait for 
 his communication. As to your final agreement together, with 
 
 22 
 
338 VIVIAN GEET. 
 
 your Highness' settled views and decided purpose, all the difficulty 
 of negotiation will be on his side. Whatever, my dear Prince," 
 continued Vivian, with a very significant voice and very marked 
 emphasis, " whatever, my dear Prince, may be your secret wishes, 
 be assured that to attain them in your present negotiation, you have 
 only to be firm. Let nothing divert you from your purpose, and 
 the termination of this interview must be gratifying to you." 
 
 The Prince of Little Lilliput was very disinclined to part with 
 his shrewd counsellor, who had already done him considerable ser- 
 vice ; and he strongly opposed Vivian's proposition. His oppo- 
 sition, however, like that of most other persons, was unaccompanied 
 by any suggestion of his own. And as both agreed that something 
 must be done, it of course ended in the Prince being of opinion 
 that Vivian's advice must be followed. The Prince was really 
 very much affected by this sudden and unexpected parting with one 
 for whom, though he had known him so short a time, he began to 
 entertain a sincere regard. " I owe you my life," said the Prince, 
 " and perhaps more than my life ; and here we are about suddenly 
 to part, never to meet again. I wish I could get you to make 
 Turriparva your home. You should have your own suite of rooms, 
 your own horses, your own servants; and never feel for an instant 
 that you were not master of all around you. In truth," continued 
 the Prince, with great earnestness, " I wish, my dear friend, you 
 would really think seriously of this. You know you could visit 
 Vienna, and even Italy, and yet return to me. Max would be 
 delighted to see you : he loves you already ; and Sievers and his 
 library would be at your command. Agree to my proposition, 
 dear friend." 
 
 " I cannot express to your Highness how sensible I am of your 
 kindness. Your friendship I sincerely value, and shall never for- 
 get ; but I am too unhappy and unlucky a being to burden any 
 one with my constant presence. Adieu ! or will you go with me 
 to Bcckendorff"?" 
 
 " Oh, go with you by all means ! But," said the Prince, taking 
 a ruby ring of great antiquity off' his finger, " I should feel happy 
 if you would wear this for my sake." 
 
 The Prince was so much aflfected at the thoughts of parting 
 with Vivian, that he could scarcely speak. Vivian accepted the 
 ring with a cordiality which the kind-hearted donor deserved ; and 
 yet our hero unfortunately had had rather too mucli experience of 
 the world, not to be aware that, nu)st probably, in less tlian 
 another week his afiectionate friend would not be able to recall 
 his name under an horn's recollection. Such are friends! The 
 moment that we are not at their side, we are neglected; and the 
 moment that we die, we arc forgotten ! 
 
vnrtAN GBET. 339 
 
 They found Mr. BeckendorfF in his library. In apprising Mr. 
 Beckendorff of his intention of immediately quitting his roof, 
 Vivian did not omit to state the causes of his sudden departure. 
 These not only accounted for the abruptness of his movement, but 
 also gave Beckendorff an opportunity of preventing its necessity, 
 by allowing Essper to remain. But the opportunity vras not 
 seized by ^Ir. Beckendorfl". The truth was, that gentleman had a 
 particular wish to see Vivian out of his house. In allowing the 
 Prince of Little Lilliput to be attended during the interview by a 
 friend, Beckendorff had prepared himself for the reception of some 
 brawny Jagd Junker, or some thick-headed Chamberlain, who he 
 reckoned would act i-ather as an incumbrance than an aid to his 
 opponent. It was with great mortification, therefore, that he 
 found him accompanied by a shrewd, experienced, wary, and edu- 
 cated Englishman. A man like Beckendorff soon discovered that 
 Vivian Grey's was no common mind. His conversation with him, 
 of the last night, had given him some notion of his powers ; and 
 the moment that Beckendorff saw Essper George enter the house, 
 he determined that he should be the cause of Vivian leaving it. 
 There was also another and weighty reason for Mr. Beckendorfl 
 desiring that the Prince of Little Lilliput should at this moment 
 be left to himself. 
 
 " Mr. Grey will ride on to Reisenburg immediately," said the 
 Prince ; " and, my dear friend, you may depend upon having your 
 luggage by the day after to-morrow. I shall be at Turriparva 
 early to-morrow, and it will be my first care." 
 
 This was said in a very loud voice, and both gentlemen watched 
 Mr. Beckendorff's countenance as the information was given ; but 
 no emotion was visible. 
 
 " Well, sir, good morning to you," said Mr. Beckendorff; '•' I am 
 very sorry you are going. Had I known it sooner, I would have 
 given you a letter. Mr. von Fhilii)son," said Beckendorff, " do 
 me the favour of looking over that paper." So saying, Mr. 
 Beckendorff put some official report into the Prince's hand ; and 
 while his Highness' attention was attracted by this sudden request, 
 Mr. Beckendorff laid his finger on Vivian's arm, and said in a 
 lower tone, " I shall take care that you find a powerful friend at 
 Eeisenburg 1 " 
 
340 VIVIAN GREY, 
 
 BOOK VII. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 As Vivian left tlic room, Mr. Beckendorff was seized with an 
 unusual desire to converse with the Prince of Little Lilliput, and 
 his Highness was consequently debarred the consolation of walking 
 with his friend as far as the horses. At the little gate Vivian and 
 Essper encountered the only male attendant who was allowed to 
 approach the house of Mr. Beckendorff. As Vivian quietly 
 walked his horse up the rough turf road, he could not refrain 
 from recurring to his conversation of tlie previous night ; and 
 ■when he called to mind the adventures of the last six days, he had 
 new cause to wonder at, and perhaps to lament over, his singular 
 fate. In that short time he had saved the life of a powerful 
 Prince, and being immediately signalled out, without any exertion 
 on his part, as the object of that Prince's friendship. The moment 
 he arrives at his castle, by a wonderful contingency, he becomes 
 the depositary of important state secrets, and assists in a consul- 
 tation of the utmost importance with one of the most powerful 
 Ministers in Europe. And now the object of so much friendship, 
 confidence, and honour, he is suddenly on the road to the capital 
 of the State of which his late host is the prime Minister, and his 
 friend the chief subject, without even the convenience of a common 
 letter of introduction ; and with little prospect of viewing with 
 even the usual advantages of a common traveller, one of the most 
 interesting of European Courts. 
 
 When he had proceeded about half way up the turf lane, he 
 found a private road to his right ; which, with that spirit of ad- 
 venture for which Englishmen arc celebrated, he immediately 
 resolved must not only lead to Reisenburg, but also carry him to 
 that city much sooner than the regular high road. He had not 
 advanced far up this road, before he came to the gate at which he 
 had parted with Beckendorff on the morning that gentleman had 
 roused him so unexpectedly from his reverie in a green lane. He 
 was surprised to find a horseman dismounting at the gate. Struck 
 by this singular circumstance, the ap))earancc of the stranger was 
 not unnoticed. He was a tall and well-proportioned man, and as 
 the traveller passed, lie stared Vivian so fully in the fiice, that our 
 hero did not fail to remark his very handsome countenance, the 
 expression of which, however, was rather vacant and unploasing. 
 
VIVIAN GEET. 341 
 
 He •was dressed in a riding-coat, exactly similar to the one always 
 worn by Beckendorff's messenger ; and had Vivian not seen him 
 so distinctly, he would have mistaken him for that person. The 
 stranger was rather indifferently mounted, and carried his cloak 
 and a small portmanteau at the back of his saddle. 
 
 " I suppose it is the butler," said Essper George, who now spoke 
 for the first time since his dismissal from the room. Vivian did 
 not answer him ; not because he entertained any angry feeling on 
 account of his exceedingly unpleasant visit. By no means : — ifc 
 was impossible for a man like Vivian Grey to cherish an irritated 
 feeling for a second. But he did not exchange a syllable with 
 Essper George, merely because he was not in the humour to speak. 
 He could not refrain from musing on the singular events of the 
 last few days ; and, above all, the character of Beckendorff parti- 
 cularly engrossed his meditation. Their conversation of the pre- 
 ceding night excited in his mind new feelings of wonder, and re- 
 vived emotions which he thought were dead, or everlastingly dor- 
 mant. Apparently, the philosophy on which Beckendorff had 
 regulated his career, and by which he had arrived at his pitch of 
 greatness, was exactly the same with which he himself, Vivian 
 Grey, had started in life ; which he had found so fatal in its con- 
 sequences ; which he believed to be so vain in its principles. How 
 was this ? "What radical error had he committed ? It required 
 little consideration. Thirty, and more than thirty, years had 
 passed over the head of Beckendorff, ere the world felt his power, 
 or indeed was conscious of his existence. A deep student, not only 
 of man in detail, but of man in groups — not only of individuals, 
 but of nations, — Beckendorff had hived up his ample knowledge 
 of all subjects which could interest his feUow-creatures ; and when 
 that opportunity, which in this world occurs to all men, occurred 
 to Beckendorff, he was prepared. With acquirements equal to 
 his genius, Beckendorff depended only upon himself, and suc- 
 ceeded. Vivian Grey, with a miud inferior to no man's, dashed 
 on the stage, in years a boy, though in feelings a man. Brilliant 
 as might have been his genius, his acquirements necessarily were 
 insufficient. He could not depend only upon himself; a conse- 
 quent necessity arose to have recourse to the assistance of others ; 
 to inspire them with feelings which they could not share; and 
 humour and manage the petty weaknesses which he himself could 
 not experience. His colleagues were, at the same time, to work 
 for the gTatification of theii* own private interests, the most pal- 
 pable of all abstract things ; and to carry into execution a great 
 purpose, which their feeble minds, interested only by the first point, 
 cared not to comprehend. The unnatural combination failed; 
 and its originator fell. To believe that he could recur agaui to 
 
34S VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 the hopes, the feelings, the pursuits of his boyhood, he felt to be 
 the vainest of delusions. It was the expectation of a man like 
 Beckendorff — whose career, though difficult, though hazardous, 
 had been uniformly successful — of a man who mistook cares for 
 grief, and anxiety for sorrow. 
 
 The travellers entered the city at sunset. Proceeding through 
 an ancient and unseemly town, full of long, narrow, and ill-paved 
 streets, and black unevenly built houses, they ascended the hill, on 
 the top of which was situated the new and Residence town of Rei- 
 senburg. The proud palace, the white squares, the architectural 
 streets, the new churches, the elegant opera house, the splendid 
 hotels, and the gay public gardens full of busts, vases, and statues, 
 and surrounded by an iron railing cast out of the cannon taken 
 from both sides during the war, by the Reisenburg troops, and 
 now formed into pikes and fasces, glittering with gilded heads — 
 all these shining in the setting sun, produced an effect which, 
 at any time, and in any place, Avould have been beautiful and 
 striking ; but on the present occasion were still more so, from the 
 remarkable contrast they afforded to the ancient, gloomy, and 
 filthy town through which Vivian had just passed; and where, 
 from the lowness of its situation, the sun had already set. There 
 ■was as much difierence between the old and new town of Reisen- 
 burg, as between the old barbarous Margrave, and the new and 
 noble Grand-Duke. 
 
 On the second day after his arrival at Reisenburg, Vivian re- 
 ceived the following letter from the Prince of Little Lilliput. — His 
 luggage did not accompany the epistle. 
 
 "Mt bear Friend, 
 " By the time you have received this, 1 shall have returned to 
 Turriparva. My visit to a certain gentleman was prolonged for 
 one day. I never can convey to you by words the sense I entertain 
 of the value of your friendship, and of your services ; I trust that 
 time will afford me opportunities of testifying it by my actions. I re- 
 turn home by the same road by which we came ; you remember 
 how excellent the road was, as indeed are all the roads in Reisen- 
 burg ; that must be confessed by all. I fear that the most partial 
 admirers of the old regime cannot say as much for the convenience 
 of travelling in the time of our fathers. Good roads arc most 
 excellent things, and one of the first marks of civilisation and pros- 
 perity. The Emperor Napoleon, who, it must be confessed, had 
 after all no common mind, was celebrated for his roads. You have 
 doubtless admired the Route Napoleon on the Rhine, and if you 
 travel into Italy, I am informed that you will be equally, and even 
 more struck by the passage over the Simplon, and the other Italian 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 343 
 
 roads. Reisenburg has certainly kept pace with the spirit of the 
 time : nobody can deny that ; and I confess to you that the more 
 1 consider the subject, it appears to me that the happiness, pros- 
 perity, and content of a State, are the best evidences of the wisdom 
 and beneficent rule of a government. Many things are very ex- 
 cellent in theory, which are quite tiie reverse in practice, and even 
 ludicrous. — And while we should do our most to promote the cause 
 and uphold the interests of rational liberty, still, at the same time, 
 we should ever be on our guard against the crude ideas and revo- 
 lutionary systems of those who are quite inexperienced in that 
 sort of particular knowledge which is necessary for all statesmen. 
 Nothing is so easy as to make things look fine on paper, — we should 
 never forget that : there is a great difference between high sound- 
 ing generalities, and laborious details. Is it reasonable to expect 
 that men who have passed their lives dreaming in Colleges and old 
 musty Studies, should be at all calculated to take the head of 
 aflairs, or know what measures those at the head of afi'airs ought 
 to adopt ? — I think not. A certain personage, wlio by-the-bye is 
 one of the most clear-headed and most perfect men of business 
 that I ever had the pleasure of being acquainted with; a real 
 practical man, in short; he tells me that Professor Skyrocket, 
 whom you will most likely see at Reisenburg, wrote an ar- 
 ticle in the Military Quarterly Review which is published there, 
 on the probable expenses of a war between Austria and Prussia, 
 and forgot the commissariat altogether. Did you ever know any 
 thing so ridiculous ? What business have such fellows to meddle 
 with afi'.iirs of state ? They should certainly be put down : that I 
 think none can deny. A liberal spirit in government is certainly 
 a most excellent thing ; but we must always remember that liberty 
 may degenerate into licentiousness. Liberty is certainly an ex- 
 cellent thing, — that all admit ; but, as a certain person very well 
 observed, so is physic, and yet it is not to be given at all times, but 
 only when the frame is in a state to require it. People may be as 
 unprepared for a wise and discreet use of liberty, as a vulgar per- 
 son may be for the management of a great estate, unexpectedly 
 inherited : there is a great deal in this, and in ray opinion there 
 are cases in wliich to force liberty down a people's throat, is pre- 
 senting them, not with a blessing, but a curse. I shall send your 
 luggage on immediately ; it is very probable that I may be in town 
 at the end of the week, for a short time. I wish much to see, and 
 to consult you, and therefore hope that you will not leave Reisen- 
 burg before you see 
 
 " Your faithful and obliged friend, 
 
 " Little Lii.liput." 
 
344 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 Two days after the receipt of tliis letter, Essper George ran into 
 the room with a much less solemn physiognomy than he had thought 
 proper to assume since his master's arrival at Reisenburg. 
 
 " Lord, sir ! whom do you think I have just met ? " 
 
 " Whom ? " asked Vivian with eagerness, for, as is always the 
 case when such questions are asked us, he was thinking of every 
 
 person in the world except the right one. It might be 
 
 - " To think that I should see him ! " continued Essper. 
 
 "It is a man then," thought Vivian; — "who is it at once, 
 Essper ? " 
 
 " I thought you would not guess, sir ! it will quite cure you to 
 hear it — Master Rodolph 1 " 
 
 " Master Rodolph ! " 
 
 " Ay ! and there's great news in the wind." 
 
 " Which of course you have confidentially extracted from hira. 
 Pray let us have it." 
 
 " The Prince of Little Lilliput is coming to Reisenburg," said 
 Essper. 
 
 " Well ! I had some idea of that before," said Vivian. 
 
 " Oh ! then you know it all, sir, I suppose," said Essper, with a 
 look of great disappointment. 
 
 " I know nothing more than I have mentioned," said his 
 master. 
 
 " What! do you not know, sir, that the Prince has come over ; 
 that he is going to live at Court ; and be, heaven knows what ! 
 that he is to carry a stafi' every day before the Grand-Duke at 
 dinner ; does not my master know that ? " 
 
 " I know nothing of all this ; and so tell me in plain German 
 what the case is." 
 
 " Well, then," continued Essper ; " I suppose you do not know 
 that his Highness the Prince is to be his Excellency the Grand 
 Marshal — that unfortunate but principal Officer of state having 
 received his dismissal yesterday : they are coming up immediately. 
 Not a moment is to be lost, which seems to me very odd. Master 
 Rodolph is arranging everything ; and he has this morning pur- 
 chased from his master's predecessor, his palace, furniture, wines, 
 and pictures ; in short, his whole establishment : the late Grand 
 Marshal consoling himself for his loss of office, and revenging 
 himself on his successor, by selling him his property at a hundred 
 per cent, profit. However, Master Rodolph seems quite contented 
 with his bargain ; and your luggage is come, sir. His Highness, 
 the Prince, will be in town at the end of the week ; and all the 
 men are to be put in new livery. Mr. Arnelm is to be his High- 
 ness' chamberlain ; and Vou Neuwied master of the horse. So you 
 
VIVIAN GRE7. 345 
 
 see, sir, you were rig-ht ; and that old puss in boots was no traitor, 
 after all. Upon my soul, I did not raucli believe you, sir, imtil I 
 heard all this good news." 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 About a week after his arrival at Reisenburg', as Vivian was at 
 breakftist, the door opened, and Mr. Sievers entered. 
 
 " I did not think that our next meeting- would be in this city," 
 said Mr. Sievers, smiling. 
 
 " His Highness, of course, informed me of your arrival," said 
 Vivian, as he greeted him very cordially. 
 
 " You, I understand, are the diplomatist whom I am to thank 
 for finding' myself again at Reisenburg. Let me, at the same 
 time, express my gratitude for your kind offices to me, and con- 
 gratulate you on the brilliancy of your talents for negotiation. 
 Little did I think when I was giving you, the other day, an account 
 of Mr. Beckendorff, that the information would have beeu of such 
 service to you." 
 
 " I am afraid you have nothing to thank me for ; though, cer- 
 tainly, had the office of arranging the terms between the par- 
 ties devolved on me, my first thoughts would have been for a gen- 
 tleman for whom I have so much regard and respect as Mr. 
 Sievers." 
 
 " Sir ! I feel honoured : you already speak like a finished courtier. 
 Pray, what is to be your office ? " 
 
 " I fear iNIr. Beckendorff will not resign in my favour ; and my 
 ambition is so exalted, that I cannot condescend to take anything- 
 under the Premiership." 
 
 " You are not to be tempted by a Grand Marshalship ! " said 
 ]\Ir. Sievers. " You hardly expected, when you were at Tm'ri- 
 parva, to witness such a rapid termination of the patriotism of 
 our good friend. I think you said you have seen him since 
 your arrival : the interview must have been piquant ! " 
 
 " Not at all. I immediately congratulated him on the judicious 
 arrangements which had been concluded ; and, to relieve his awk- 
 wardness, took some credit to myself for having partially assisted 
 in bringing about the result. The subject was not again men- 
 tioned, and I dare say never will be." 
 
 " It is a curious business," said Sievers. " The Prince is a man 
 who, rather than have given me up to the Grand-Duke — me, with 
 whom he was not connected, and who, of my own accord, sought 
 his hospitality — sooner, I repeat, than have delivered me up, he 
 would have had his castle razed to the ground, and fifty sworda 
 
346 TIVIAK GREY. 
 
 through his heart ; and yet, without the slightest compunction, has 
 this same man deserted, with the greatest coolness, the party of 
 which, ten days ago, ho was the zealous leader. How can you ac- 
 count for this, except it be, as I have long suspected, that in poli- 
 tics there positively is no feeling of honour ? Every one is con- 
 scious that not only himself, but his colleagues and his rivals, are 
 working for their own private purpose ; and that however a 
 party may apparently be assisting in bringing about a result of 
 common benefit, that nevertheless, and in fact, each is conscious 
 that he is the tool of another. With such an understanding, trea- 
 son is an expected affair ; and the only point to consider is, who 
 shall be so unfortunate as to be the deserted, instead of the de- 
 serter. It is only fair to his Highness to st.ate, that Beekendorff 
 gave him incontestable evidence that he had had a private inter- 
 view with every one of the mediatised Princes. They were the 
 dupes of the wily Minister. In these negotiations he became 
 acquainted with their plans and characters, and could estimate 
 the probability of their success. The golden bribe, whicli was in 
 turn dandled before the eyes of all, had been always reserved for 
 the most powerful — our friend. His secession, and the consequent 
 desertion of his relatives, destroy the party for ever ; while, at the 
 same time, that party have not even the consolation of a good con- 
 science to uphold them in their adversity ; but feel tl^t in case of 
 their clamour, or of any attempt to stir up the people by their 
 hollow patriotism, it is in the power of the JNIinister to expose and 
 crush them for ever." 
 
 " All this," said Vivian, '•' makes me the more rejoice that our 
 friend has got out of their clutches ; he will make an excellent 
 Grand Marshal; and you must not forget, my dear sir, that he did 
 not forget you. To tell you the truth, although I did not flatter 
 myself that I should benefit during my stay at Reisenburg by 
 his influence, I am not the least surprised at the termination of 
 our visit to Mr. Beekendorff. I have seen too many of these 
 affairs, not to have been quite aware, the whole time, that it would 
 require very little trouble, and very few sacrifices on the part of 
 Mr. Beekendorff, to quash the whole cabal. By-the-bye, our visit 
 to him was highly amusing ; he is a singular man." 
 
 " He has had nevertheless," said Sicvers, "a very difficult part 
 to play. Had it not been for you, the Prince would have perhaps 
 imagined that he was only trifling with him again, and terminated 
 the interview abruptly and in disgust. Having brought the Grand- 
 Duke to terms, and having arranged the interview, Beckendorfl' of 
 course iraagiued that all was finished. The very day that you ar- 
 rived at his house, he had received despatches from his Royal 
 Highness, recalling his promise, and revoking Beckendorflf's autho- 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 347 
 
 rity to use his unlimited discretion in this business. The difficulty 
 then was to avoid discussion with the Prince, with whom he was 
 not prepared to negotiate ; and, at the same time, without letting 
 his Highness out of his sight, to induce the Grand-Duke to resume 
 his old view of the case. The first night that you were there, 
 Beckendorff rode up to Reisenburg — saw the Grand-Duke — was 
 refused, through the intrigues of Madame Carolina, the requested 
 authority — and resigned his power. When he was a mile on his 
 return, he was summoned back to the palace ; and his Royal 
 Highness asked, as a favour from his tutor, four-and-twenty hours' 
 consideration. This, Beckendorff granted, on the condition that, 
 in case the Grand-Duke assented to the terms proposed, his Royal 
 Highness should himself be the bearer of the proposition ; and 
 that there should be no more written promises to recall, and no 
 more written authorities to revoke. The terms were hard, but 
 Beckendorff was inflexible. On the second night of your visit, a 
 messenger arrived with a despatch, advising Beckendorff of tlie in- 
 tended arrival of his Royal Highness on the next morning. The 
 ludicrous intrusion of your amusing servant prevented you from 
 being present at the great interview, in which I understand Beck- 
 endorfl" for the moment laid aside all his caprices. Our friend 
 acted with great firmness and energy. He would not be satisfied 
 even with the personal pledge and written promise of the Grand- 
 Duke, but demanded that he should receive the seals of office 
 within a week ; so that, had the Court not been sincere, his situa- 
 tion with his former party would not have been injured. It is as- 
 tonishing how very acute even a dull man is, when his own interests 
 are at stake ! Had his Highness been the agent of another per- 
 son, he would probably have coaimitted many blunders — have 
 made disadvantageous terms, or perhaps have been thoroughly 
 duped. Self-interest is the finest eye-water." 
 " And what says Madame Carolina to all this?" 
 " Oh ! according to custom, she has changed already, and thinks 
 the whole business admirably arranged. His Highness is her 
 grand favourite, and my little pupil Max, her pet. I think, how- 
 ever, on the whole, the boy is fondest of the Grand-Duke, whom, 
 if you remember, he was always informing you in confidence that 
 he intended to assassinate. And as for your obedient servant," 
 said Sievers bowing, "here am I once more the Aristarchus of her 
 coterie. Her friends, by-the-bye, view the accession of the Prince 
 with no pleased eyes ; and, anticipating that his juncture with the 
 Minister is only a prelude to their final dispersion, they are com- 
 pensating for the approaching termination of their career, by un- 
 usual violence and fresh fervour — stinging like mosquitos before a 
 storm, conscious of their impending destruction from the clearance 
 
348 VIVIAN GREY, 
 
 oP the atmosphere. As for myself, I have nothing more to do 
 with them. Liberty and philoso}jliy are very fine words ; but until 
 I find men are prepared to cultivate them both in a wiser spirit, I 
 shall remain quiet. I have no idea of being banished and im- 
 prisoned, because a parcel of knaves are making- a vile use of the 
 truths which I disseminate. In my opinion, philosophers have said 
 enough ; now let men act. But all this time I have forgotten to 
 ask you how you like Reisenburg." 
 
 " I can hardly say ; with the exception of yesterday, when 
 I rode Max round the ramparts, I have not been once out of 
 the hotel. But to-day I feel so well, that if you are disposed 
 for a lounge, I should like it above all things." 
 
 " I am quite at your service ; but I must not forget that I am 
 the bearer of a missive to you from his Excellency the Grand 
 Marshal. You are invited to join the Court-dinner to-day, and 
 be presented " 
 
 *' Really, my dear sir, an invalid " 
 
 '* Well ! if you do not like it, you must make your excuses to 
 him ; but it really is the pleasautest way of commencing your 
 acc[uaintance at Court, and only allowed to distingues ; among 
 which, as you are the friend of the new Grand Marshal, you are 
 of course considered. No one is petted so much as a political 
 apostate, except, perhaps, a religious one ; so at present we are all 
 in high feather. You had better dine at the palace to-day. Every- 
 thing quite easy ; and, by an agreeable relaxation of state, neither 
 swords, bags, nor trains, are necessary. Have you seen the palace ? 
 I suppose not ; we will look at it ; and then call on the Prince." 
 
 The gentlemen accordingly left the hotel ; and proceeding down 
 the principal street of the New Town, they came into a very large 
 square, or Place d'Armes. A couple of regiments of infantry 
 were exercising in it. 
 
 "A specimen of our standing army," said Sievers. " In the war 
 time, this little State brought thirty thousand highly disciplined 
 and well appointed troops into the field. This efficient con- 
 tingent was, at the same time, the origin of our national prosperity, 
 and our national debt. For we have a national debt, sir! I 
 assure you we are very proud of it, and consider it the most 
 decided sign of being a great people. Our force in times of peace 
 is, of course, very much reduced. We have, however, still eight 
 thousand men, who are perfectly unnecessary. The most curious 
 thing is, that, to keep up the patronage of the Court, and please 
 the nobility, thougli we have cut down our army two-thirds, we 
 have never reduced tlic number of our generals; and so, at this 
 moment among our eight thousand men, we count about forty 
 general officers, being one to every two hundred privates. We 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 349 
 
 have, however, which perhaps you would not suspect, one military 
 genius among' our multitude of heroes. The Count von Sohnspeer 
 is worthy of being* one of Napoleon's marshals. Who he is, no 
 one exactly knows ; some say an illegitimate son of Beckendorff. 
 Certain it is, that he owes his nobility to his sword ; and as certain 
 is it that he is to be counted among the very few who share the 
 Minister's confidence. Von Sohnspeer has certainly performed a 
 thousand brilliant exploits ; yet, iu my opinion, the not least splen- 
 did day of his life, was that of the battle of Leipsic. He was on 
 the side of the French, and fought against the Allies with des- 
 perate fury. When he saw that all was over, and the Allies 
 triumphant, calling out 'Germany for ever!' he dashed against 
 his former friends, and captured from the flying Gauls a hundred 
 pieces of cannon. lie hastened to the tent of the Emperors with 
 his blood-red sword in his hand, and at the same time congratu- 
 lated them on the triumph of their cause, and presented them 
 with his hard-earned trophies. The manoeuvre was perfectly suc- 
 cessful ; and the troops of Reisenburg, complimented as true 
 Germans, were pitied for their former unhappy fate in being forced 
 to fight against their fatherland, and were immediately enrolled in 
 the allied army ; as such, they received a due share of all the 
 plunder. He is a grand genius, young Master von Sohnspeer?" 
 
 " Decidedly ! Worthy of being a companion of the fighting 
 bastards of the middle ages. This is a fine square !" 
 
 " Very grand indeed ! Precedents for some of the architectural 
 combinations could hardly be found at Athens or Rome ; never- 
 theless the general eflfect is magnificent. Do you admire this plan 
 of making every elevation of an order consonant with the purpose 
 of the building ? See, for instance, on tlie opposite side of the 
 square is the palace. The Corinthian order, which is evident in 
 all its details, suits well the character of the structure. It accords 
 with royal pomp and elegance, with fetes and banquets, and 
 interior magnificence. On the other hand, what a happy contrast 
 is afforded to this gorgeous structure, by the severe simplicity of 
 this Tuscan Palace of Justice. The School of Arts, in the farthest 
 corner of the square, is properly entered through an Ionic portico. 
 Let us go into the palace. Here, not only does our monarch reside, 
 but (an arrangement which I much admire) here are deposited in a 
 gallery wortby of the treasures it contains, our very superb collec- 
 tion of pictures. They are the private property of his Royal 
 Highness ; but, as is usually the case under despotic Princes, the 
 people, equally his property, are flattered by the collection being 
 styled the ' Public Gallery.' '"' 
 
 The hour of the Court-dinner at Reisenburg was two o'clock ; 
 about which time, in England, a man first remembers the fatal 
 
350 ViVIAN GREY. 
 
 necessity of shaving ; tliough, by-the-bje, this allusion is not a 
 very happy one, for in this country shaving- is a ceremony at 
 present somewhat obsolete. At two o'clock, however, our hero, 
 accompanying the Grand Marshal and Mr. Sievers, reached the 
 palace. In the saloon were assembled various guests, chiefly 
 attached to the Court. Immediately after the arrival of our 
 party, the Grand-Duke and Madame Carolina, followed by their 
 chamberlains and ladies in waiting, entered. The little Prince 
 Maximilian strutted in between his Royal Highness and his fair 
 Consort, having hold of a hand of each. The urchin Avas veiy 
 much changed in appearance since Vivian first saw him ; he was 
 dressed in the complete uniform of a captain of the Royal Guards, 
 having been presented with a commission on the day of his arrival 
 at Court. A brilliant star glittered on his scarlet coat, and paled 
 the splendour of his golden epaulettes. The duties, however, of 
 the princely captain were at present confined to the pleasing 
 exertion of carrying the bon-bon box of Madame Carolina, the 
 contents of which were chiefly reserved for his own gratification. 
 In the Grand-Duke, ViAdan was not surprised to recognise the 
 horseman whom he had met in the private re ad on the morning 
 of his departure from Mr. Beckendorfi"s ; his conversation with 
 Sievers had prepared him for this. Madame Carolina was in 
 appearance Parisian of the highest order — that is to say, an 
 exquisite figure and an indescribable tournure, an invisible foot, a 
 countenance full of esprit and intelligence, without a single regular 
 feature, and large and very bright black eyes. Madame's hair was 
 of the same colour, and arranged in the most eftective manner. 
 Her cashmere would have graced the Feast of Roses, and so 
 engrossed your attention, that it was long before you observed the 
 rest of her costume, in which, however, traces of a creative genius 
 were immediately visible ; in short, Madame Carolina was not 
 fashionable, but fashion herself. In a subsequent chapter, at a 
 ball which we have in preparation, we will make up for this brief 
 notice of her costume, by publishing her Court-dress. For the 
 sake of our fair readers, however, we will not pass over the orna- 
 ment in her air. Tlic comb which supported her elaborate curls 
 was invisible, except at eacli end, whence it tlirew out a lar^-e 
 P&yclie's wing of golden web, the eyes of which were formed of 
 rub.es encircled with turquoises. 
 
 'i"he Royal party made a progress round llic circle. ]\Iadame 
 Carolina first presented her delicate and faintly-rouged cheek to 
 the hump-backed Crown-Prince, who scarcely raised his eyes from 
 tlie ground as he performed the accustomed courtesy. One or 
 two Roval relatives, who were on a visit at iho nalafo. wore 
 
VIVIAN GRET. 351 
 
 graciously and gracefully to every individual ; and his lady accom- 
 panied the bow by a speech, whicli was at the same time personal and 
 piquant. The first great duty of a monarch is to know how to bow 
 skilfully; nothing is more difficult, and nothing more important. 
 A Roval bow may often quell a rebellion, and sometimes crush a 
 conspiracy. It should at the same time be both general and 
 individual; equally addressed to the company assembled, aud to 
 every single person in the assembly. Our own Sovereign bows 
 to perfection. His bow is eloquent, and will always render an 
 oration on his part unnecessary; which is a great point, for 
 harangues are not regal. Nothing is more undignified than to 
 make a speech. It is from the first an acknowledgment that you 
 are under the necessity of explaining, or conciliating, or con- 
 vincing, or confuting ; in sliort, that you are not omnipotent, but 
 opposed. 
 
 The bow of the Grand-Duke of Reisenburg was a first-rate bow, 
 and always produced a great sensation with the people, particularly 
 if it were followed up by a proclamation for a public fete, or fire- 
 works ; then his Royal Highness' popularity was at its height. 
 But M.idanie Carolina, after having by a few magic sentences per- 
 suaded the whole room that she took a peculiar interest iu the hap- 
 piness of every individual present, has reached Vivian, who stood 
 next to his friend the Grand Marshal. He was presented by that 
 great officer, and received most graciously. For a moment the 
 room thought that his Royal Highness was about to speak ; but he 
 only smi.'ed. Madame Carolina, however, said a great deal ; and 
 stood not less than sixty seconds complimenting the English nation, 
 and particularly the specimen of that celebrated people who now 
 had the honour of being presented to her. No one spoke more in 
 a given time than Madame Carolina ; and as, while the eloquent 
 words fell from her deep red lips, her bright eyes were invariably 
 fixed on those of the person she addressed, what she did say, as 
 invariably, was very efl'ective. Vivian had only time to give a nod of 
 recognition to his friend Max, for the company, arm-in-arm, now 
 formed into a procession to the dining-saloon. Vivian was parted 
 from the Grand Marshal, who, as the highest officer of state pre- 
 sent, followed immediately after the Grand-Duke. Our hero's 
 companion was Mr. Sievers. Although it was not a state dinner, 
 the p:irty, from being swelled by the suites of the royal visitors, 
 was numerous; and a« the Court occupied the centre of the table, 
 Vivian was too distant to listen to the conversation of Madame, who, 
 however, he well perceived from the animation of her countenance, 
 was delighted and delighting. The Grand-Duke spoke little ; but 
 listened, lilce a lover of three davs, to the accents of his accom- 
 
353 VIVIAN GKEY. 
 
 conversation. The numerous dishes are at once placed upon the 
 table ; and when the curious eye has well examined their contents, 
 the whole dinner, untouched, disappears. Although this circum- 
 stance is rather alarming to a novice, his terror soon gives place 
 to self-congratulation, when he finds the banquet re-appear, each 
 dish completely carved and cut up. 
 
 " Not being Sunday," said Mr. Sievers, " there is no opera to- 
 night. We are to meet again, I believe, at the palace, in a few 
 hours, at Madame Carolina's soiree. In the meantime, you had 
 better accompany his Excellency to the public gardens ; that is the 
 fashionable drive. I shall go home and smoke a pipe." 
 
 The circle of the public gardens of Reisenburg exhibited 
 exactly, although upon a smaller scale, the same fashions and the 
 same frivolities, the same characters and the same affectations, as 
 the Hyde Park of London, or the Champs Elysees of Paris, the 
 Prater of Vienna, the Corso of Rome or Milan, or the Cascine of 
 Florence. There was the female leader of ton, hated by her own 
 sex, and adored by the other, and ruling both — ruling both by the 
 same principle of action, and by the influence of the same quality 
 which creates the arbitress of fashion in all countries — by courage 
 to break through the conventional customs of an artificial class, 
 and by talents to ridicule all those who dare follow her innovating 
 example — attracting universal notice by her own singularity, and 
 at the same time conciliating the support of those from whom she 
 dares to differ, by employing her influence in preventing others 
 from violating their laws. The arbitress of fashion is one who is 
 allowed to be singular, in order that she may suppress singularity; 
 she is exempted from all laws ; but, by receiving the dictatorship, 
 she ensures the despotism. Then there was that mysterious being 
 whose influence is perhaps even more surprising than the dominion 
 of the female despot of manners, for she wields a power which can 
 be analysed and comprchendL'd — I mean the male authority in 
 coats, cravats, and chargers ; who, without fortune and witJiout 
 rank, and sometimes merely through the bold obtrusion of a fan- 
 tastic taste, becomes the glass of fasliion, in which even royal dukes 
 and the most aristocratic nobles hasten to adjust themselves; and 
 the mould by which the ingenious youth of a whole nation is en- 
 thusiastically formed. There is a Brumraell in every country. 
 
 Vivian, who, after a round or two with the Grand Marshal, had 
 mounted Max, was presented by the young Count von Bernstoift", 
 the son of the Grand Cliamborlain, to whose care he had been 
 specially commended by the Prince, to the lovely Countess von 
 
 S . The examination of this high authority was rigid, and her 
 
 report Tialisfixctory. When Vivian quitted the side of her'bi ilzska, 
 half a dozen dandies immediately rode up to learn the result ; aud. 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 853 
 
 on being' informed, they simultaneously cantered up to young Von 
 Bernstorff, and requested to have the honour of being introduced 
 to his highly-interesting friend. All these exquisites wore white 
 hals lined with crimson, in consequence of the head of the all- 
 influential Emilius von Asliugen having, on the preceding day, 
 been kept sacred from the profaning air, by that most tasteful 
 covering. The young lords were loud in their commendations of 
 this latest evidence of Von Aslingen's happy genius, and rallied, 
 with a most unmerciful spirit, the unfortunate Von Bernstorff for 
 not having yet mounted the all-perfect chapeau. Like all Vou 
 Aslingen's introductions, it was as remarkable for good taste as for 
 striking singularity : they had no doubt it would have a great run; 
 exactly the style of thing* for a hot autumn, and it suited so ad- 
 mirably with the claret-coloured riding coat, which Madame con- 
 sidered Von Aslingen's chef-d'oeuvre. Inimitable Von Aslingen ! 
 As they were in these raptures, to Vivian's great delight, and to 
 their great dismay, the object of their admiration appeared. Our 
 hero was, of course, anxious to see so interesting a character ; but 
 he could scarcely believe that lie, in fact, beheld the ingenious intro- 
 ducer of white and crimson hats, and the still happier inventor of 
 those chef-d'ceuvres, claret-coloured riding coats, when his atten- 
 tion was directed to a horseman who wore a peculiarly high, heavy 
 black hat, and a frogged and furred frock, buttoned up (although 
 it was a most sultry day) to his very nose. How singular is the 
 slavery of fashion ! Notwithstanding their mortification, the un- 
 expected costume of Von Aslingen appeared only to increase the 
 young- lords' admiration of his character and accomplishments ; and 
 instead of feeling that he was an insolent pretender, whose fame 
 originated in his insulting their tastes, and existed only by their 
 sufferance, all cantered away with the determination of wearing on 
 the next day, even if it were to cost them each a calenture, furs 
 enough to keep a man warm during a winter party at St. Peters- 
 burg — not that winter parties ever take place there ; on the con- 
 trary, before the winter sets in, the Court moves on to Moscow ; 
 which, from its situation and its climate, will always, in fact, con- 
 tinue the real capital of Russia. 
 
 The royal carriage, drawn by six horses, and backed by three 
 men servants, who would not have disgraced the fairy equipage of 
 Cinderella, has now left the gardens. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 MADAiiE Carolina held her soiree in her own private apart- 
 ments ; the Grand-Duke himself appearing in the capacity of »\ 
 
 23 
 
354 VIVIAK GEEY. 
 
 visitor. The company was oiiraei-ous and brilliant. His Royal 
 Highness, surrounded by a select circle, dignified one coraer of 
 the saloon : Madame Carolina at the other end of the room, in 
 the midst of poets, philosophers, and politicians, in turn de- 
 cided upon the most interesting and important topics of poetry, 
 philosophy, and politics. Boston, and Zwicken, and Whist in- 
 terested some, and Puzzles, and other ingenious games others. A 
 few were above conversing, or gambling, or guessing ; superior 
 intelligences who would neither be interested nor amused; — 
 among these, Emilius von Asliugen was most prominent ; he leant 
 against a door, in full uniform, with his vacant eyes fixed on no 
 object. The others were only awkward copies of an easy original ; 
 and among these, stiff or stretching, lounging on a chaise-longue, 
 or posted against the wall, Vivian's quick eye recognised more 
 than one of the unhappy votaries of white hats lined with 
 crimson. 
 
 When Vivian made his bow to the Grand-Duke, he was sur- 
 prised by his Royal Highness coming forward a few steps from the 
 surrounding circle and extending to him his hand. His Royal 
 Highness coutiuued conversing with him for upwards of a quarter 
 of an hour ; expressed the great pleasure he felt at seeing at his 
 Court a gentleman of whose abilities he had the highest opinion; 
 and after a variety of agreeable compliments — compliments are 
 doubly agreeable from crowned heads — the Grand-Duke retired to 
 a game of Boston with his royal visitors. Vivian's reception made 
 a sensation through the room. Various rumours were immediately 
 afloat. 
 
 "Who can he be?" 
 
 *' Don't you know ? Oh ! most curious story — killed a boar as 
 big as a bonassus, which was ravaging half Reisenburg, and saved 
 the lives of his Excellency the Grand Marshal and his whole 
 suite." 
 
 " What is that about the Grand Marshal and a boar as big as a 
 Lonassus ? Quite wrong — natural son of Beckendorff — know it 
 for a fact — don't you see he is being introduced to Von Sohnspeer 1 
 — brothers, you know — managed the whole business about the 
 leagued Princes — not a son of Beckendorfl", only a pai'ticular 
 
 friend — the son of the late General , I forget his name 
 
 exactly — killed at Leipsic you know — that famous General, what 
 was his name? — that very famous General — don't you remember? 
 Never mind — well ! he is liis son — father particular friend of 
 Beckendorff — College friend — brought up the orphan — very 
 handsome of him ! — they say he docs handsome things some- 
 limes." 
 
 " All ! well — I've heard so too — and so this young man is to be 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 3St^ 
 
 the new Under Secretary ! very much approved by the Countess 
 von S /' 
 
 " No, it can't be ! your story is quite wrong-. He 13 an Eng- 
 lishman." 
 
 " An Englishman ! no !" 
 
 " Yes he is. I had it from Madame — high rank incog — agoing 
 to Vienna — secret mission." 
 
 " Something to do with Greece ? of course — independence re- 
 cognised?" 
 
 " Oh ! certainly — pay a tribute to the Porte, and governed bv a 
 Hospodar. Admirable arrangement ! — have to support their own 
 government and a foreign one besides ! " 
 
 It was with pleasure that Vivian at length observed Mr. 
 Sievers enter the room, and extricating himself from the en- 
 lightened and enthusiastic crowd who were disserting round the 
 tribunal of Madame, he hastened to his amusing friend. 
 
 " Ah ! my dear sir, how glad I am to see you ! I have, since 
 we met last, been introduced to your fashionable ruler, and some 
 of her most fashionable slaves. I have been honoured by a long 
 conversation with his Royal Highness, and have listened to some 
 of the most eloquent of the Carolina coterie. What a Babel! 
 there all are, at the same time, talkers and listeners. To what a 
 pitch of perfection may the ' science ' of conversation be carried ! 
 My mind teems with original ideas to which I can annex no de- 
 finite meaning. What a variety of contradictory theories, which 
 are all apparently sound ! I begin to suspect that there is a great 
 difference between reasoning and reason ! " 
 
 " Your suspicion is well founded, my dear sir," said Mr. Sievers, 
 " and I know no circumstance which would sooner prove it than 
 listening for a few minutes to this little man in a snuff-coloured 
 coat near me. But I will save you from so terrible a demon- 
 stration. He has been endeavouring to catch ray eye these last 
 ten minutes, and I have as studiously avoided seeing him. Let 
 us move." 
 
 " Willingly : who may this fear-inspiring monster be ? " 
 
 " A philosopher," said Mr. Sievers, " as most of us call our- 
 selves here ; that is to say, his profession is to observe the course 
 of Nature ; and if by chance he can discover any slight deviation 
 of the good dame from the path which our ignorance has marked 
 out as her only track, he claps his hands, cries evprjKci ! and is 
 dubbed ' illustrious ' on the spot. Such is the world's reward for a 
 great discovery, which generally, in a twelvemonth's time, is found 
 out to be a blunder of the philosopher, and not an eccentricity 
 of Nature. I am not underrating those great men who, by deep 
 study, or rather by some mysterious inspiration, have produced- 
 
'356 VIVIAN GKET. 
 
 combinations, and eiFected results wliich have raaterially assisted 
 the progress of civilisation and the security of our happiness. 
 No, no ! to them be due adoration. Would that the reverence of 
 posterity could be some consolation to these great spirits for 
 neglect and persecution when they lived ! I have invariably ob- 
 served of great natural philosophers, that if they lived in former 
 ages they were persecuted as magicians, and in periods which 
 profess to be more enlightened they have always been ridiculed as 
 quacks. The succeeding century the real quack arises. He 
 adopts and developes the suppressed, and despised, and forgotten 
 discovery of his unfortunate predecessor ; and Fame trumpets this 
 resurrection-man of science with as loud a blast of rapture as if, 
 instead of being merely the accidental animator of the corpse, he 
 were the cunning artist himself, who had devised and executed 
 the miraculous machinery which the other had only wound 
 up." 
 
 " But in this country," said Vivian, " surely you have no reason 
 to complain of the want of moral pliilosophers, or of the respect 
 paid to them. The country of Kant of " 
 
 " Yes, yes ! we have plenty of metaphysicians, if you mean 
 them. Watch that lively-looking gentleman, who is stuffing kalte 
 schale so voraciously in the corner. The leader of the Idealists — 
 a pupil of the celebrated Fichte ! To gain an idea of his cha- 
 racter, know that he out-herods his master ; and Fichte is to Kant, 
 what Kant is to the unenlightened vulgar. You can now form a 
 slight conception of the spiritual nature of our friend who is 
 stuffing kalte schale. The first principle of his school is to reject all 
 expressions which incline in the slightest degree to substantiality. 
 Existence is, in his opinion, a word too absolute. Being, prin- 
 ciple, essence, are terms scarcely sufficiently ethereal, even to 
 indicate the subtile shadowings of his opinions. Some say that 
 he dreads the contact of all real things, and that he makes it the 
 study of his life to avoid them. Matter is his great enemy. When 
 you converse with him, you lose all consciousness of this world. 
 My dear sir," continued Mr. Sievers, " observe how exquisitely 
 Nature revenges herself upon these capricious and fantastic chil- 
 dren. Believe me, Nature is the most brilliant of wits ; and that 
 no repartees that were ever inspired by hate, or Avine, or beauty, 
 ever equalled tlie calm effects of her indomitable power upon those 
 who are rejecting her authority. You understand me ? Methinks 
 that the best answer to the idealism of M. Fichte is to see his 
 pupil devouring kalte schale ! " 
 
 " And this is really one of your great lights ? " 
 
 " Verily ! His works are the most famous, and the most un- 
 readable, in all Germany. Surely you have heard of his * Trea- 
 
VIVIAN OhEY. 857 ■ 
 
 tise on Man?' A treatise on a subject in which every one is in- 
 terested, written in a style which no one can understand." 
 
 "You tiiiuk, then," said Vivian, " that posterity may rank the 
 German metaphysicians with the latter Platonists?" 
 
 " I hardly know — they are a body of men not less acute, but I 
 doubt whether they will be as celebrated. In this age of print, 
 notoriety is more attainable than in the age of manuscript ; but 
 lasting fiime certainly is not. That tall thin man in black, that 
 just bowed to me, is the editor of one of our great Reisenburg 
 reviews. The journal he edits is one of the most successful pe- 
 riodical publications ever set afloat. Among its contributors may 
 assuredly be classed many men of eminent talents ; yet to their 
 abilities, the surprising success and influence of this work is 
 scarcely to be ascribed : it is the result rather of the consistent 
 spirit which has always inspired its masterly eritic^ues. One prin- 
 ciple has ever regulated its management ; it is a simple rule, but 
 an efi^ective one — every author is reviewed by his personal enemy. 
 You may imagine the point of the critique ; but you would hardly 
 credit, if I were to inform you, the circulation of the review. You 
 will tell me that you are not surprised, and talk of the natural 
 appetite of our species for malice and slander. Be not too quick. 
 The rival of this review, both in influence and in sale, is conducted 
 on as simple a principle, but not a similar one. In this journal 
 every author is reviewed by his personal friend — of course, per- 
 fect panegyric. Each number is flattering as a lover's tale, — 
 every article an eloge. What say you to this? These are the 
 influential literary and political journals of Reisenburg. There 
 was yet another; it was etl'*ed by an eloquent scholar; all 
 its contributors were, at the same time, brilliant and profound. 
 It numbered among its writers some of the most celebrated names 
 in Germany ; its critiques and articles were as impartial as they 
 were able — as sincere as they were sound ; it never paid the ex- 
 pense of the first number. As philanthropists and admirers of 
 our species, my dear sir, these are gratifying results ; they satis- 
 factorily demonstrate, that mankind have no innate desire for 
 scandal, calumny, and backbiting ; it only proves that they have 
 an innate desire to be gulled and deceived." 
 
 " And who is that?" said Vivian. 
 
 " That is Von Chronicle, our great historical novelist. When 
 I first came to Reisenburg, now eight years ago, the popular 
 writer of fiction was a man, the most probable of whose nu- 
 merous romances was one in which the hero sold his shadow to 
 a demon, over the dice-box; then married an unknown woman 
 in a church-yard ; afterwards wedded a river nymph ; and 
 having committed bigamy, finally stabbed himself, to enable 
 
^8 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 his first wife to marry his own father. He and his works are 
 quite obsolete ; and the star of his genius, with those of many 
 others, has paled before the superior brilliancy of that literary 
 comet, Mr. Von Chronicle. According to Von Chronicle, we 
 have all, for a long time, been under a mistake. We have ever 
 considered that the first point to be studied in novel writing is 
 character : miserable error ! It is costume. Variety of incident, 
 novelty, and nice discrimination of character; interest of story, 
 and all those points which we have hitherto looked upon as neces- 
 sary qualities of a fine novel, — vanish before the superior attrac- 
 tions of variety of dresses, exquisite descriptions of the cloak of 
 a signor, or tlie trunk-hose of a serving-man. 
 
 '• Amuse yourself while you are at Reisenburg, by turning over 
 some volumes which every one is reading ; Von Chronicle's last 
 great historical novel. The subject is a magnificent one — Rienzi 
 — ^yet it is strange that the hero only appears in the first and the 
 last scenes. You look astonished. Ah ! I see you are not a great 
 historical novelist. You forget the efiect which is produced by 
 the contrast of the costume of Master Nicholas, the notary in the 
 quarter of the Jews, and that of Rienzi the tribune, in his robe of 
 purple, at his coronation in the Capitol. Conceive the effect, the 
 contrast. With that coronation, Von Chronicle's novel termi- 
 nates; for, as he well observes, after that, what is there in the 
 career of Rienzi which would afford matter for the noveUst? No- 
 thing ! All that afterwards occurs is a mere contest of passions, 
 and a development of character; but where is a procession, a 
 triumph, or a marriage ? 
 
 " One of Von Chronicle's great characters in this novel is a 
 Cardinal. It was only last night that I was fortunate enough to 
 have the beauties of the work pointed out to me by the author 
 himself. He entreated, and gained my permission, to read to me 
 what he himself considered ' the great scene ;' I settled myself in 
 my chair, took out my handkerchief, and prepared my mind for 
 the worst. While I was anticipating the terrors of a heroine, he 
 introduced me to his Cardinal. Thirty pages were devoted to the 
 description of the prelate's costume. Although clothed in purple, 
 still, by a skilful udjustment of the drapery, Vou Chronicle ma- 
 naged to bring in six other petticoats. I thought this beginning 
 would never finish, but to my surprise, when he had got to the 
 seventh petticoat, he shut his book, and leaning over the table, 
 asked me what I thought of his 'great scene?' 'My friend,' 
 said I, ' you are not only the greatest historical novelist that ever 
 lived, but that ever will live.'" 
 
 " I shall certainly get Rienzi," said Vivian ; " it seems to me to 
 be an oriiiinal work." 
 
VIVIAN GKET. 3S% 
 
 " Von Chronicle tells me that he looks upon it as his master- 
 piece, and that it may be considered as the highest point of per- 
 fection to which his system of novel-writing can be carried. Not 
 a single name is given in the work, down even to the rabble, for 
 which he has not contemporary authority ; but what he is particu- 
 larly proud of are his oaths. Nothing, he tells me, has cost him 
 more trouble than the management of the swearing ; and the 
 Romans, you know, are a most profane nation. The great diffi- 
 culty to be avoided was using the ejaculations of two different 
 ages. The ' 'sblood ' of the sixteenth century must not be con- 
 founded with the ' zounds' of the seventeenth. Enough of Von 
 Chronicle ! The most amusing thing," continued Mr. Sievers, 
 "is to contrast this mode of writing works of fiction, with the 
 prevalent and fashionable method of writing works of history. 
 Contrast the 'Rienzi' of Von Chronicle, with the 'Haroun Al 
 Raschid' of Madame Carolina. Here we write novels like 
 history, and history like novels : .all our facts are fancy, and all 
 our imagination reality." So saying, Mr. Sievers rose, and wish- 
 ing Vivian good night, quitted the room. He was one of those 
 prudent geniuses who always leave off with a point. 
 
 Mr. Sievers had not left Vivian more than a minute, when the 
 little Prince Maximilian came up, and bowed to him in a very 
 condescending manner. Our hero, who had not yet had an oppor- 
 tunity of speaking with him, tlianked him cordially for his hand- 
 some present, and asked him how he liked the Court. 
 
 " Oh, delightful ! I pass all my time with the Grand-Duke and 
 Madame : " and here the young apostate settled his military stock, 
 and arranged the girdle of his sword. " Madame Carolina," con- 
 tinued he, " has commanded me to inform you that she desires the 
 pleasure of your attendance." 
 
 The summons was immediately obeyed, and Vivian had the 
 honour of a long conversation with the interesting Consort of the 
 Grand-Duke. He was, for a considerable time, complimented by 
 her enthusiastic panegyric of England ; her original ideas of the 
 character and genius of Lord Byron, her veneration for Sir 
 Humphry Davy, and her admiration of Sir Walter Scott. Not 
 remiss was Vivian in paying, in his happiest manner, due com- 
 pliments to the fair and royal authoress of the Court of Charle- 
 magne. While she spoke his native tongue, he admired her 
 accurate English ; and while she professed to have derived her 
 imperfect knowledge of his perfect language from a study of 
 its best authors, slie avowed her belief of the iinposs^ibility of ever 
 speaking it correctly, without the assistance of a native. Con- 
 versation became more interesting. 
 
 When Vivian left the pal.icc he was not unmindful of an en- 
 
860 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 gageraent to return there the next day, to give a first lesson in 
 English pronunciation to Madame Carolina. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Vivian duly kept his appointment with Madame Carolina. The 
 cliamherlain ushered him into a library, where Madame Carolina 
 was seated at a large table covered with books and manuscripts. 
 Her costume and her countenance were equally engaging. Fasci- 
 nation was alike in her smile, and her sash — her bow, and her 
 buckle. What a delightful pupil to perfect in English pronun- 
 ciation ! Madame pointed, witli a pride pleasing to Vivian's feel- 
 ings as an Englishman, to her shelves, graced with the most eminent 
 of English writers. Madame Carolina was not like one of those 
 admirers of English literature whom you often meet on the Con- 
 tinent : people who think that Beattie's Minstrel is our most modern 
 and fashionable poem ; that the Night Thoughts is the master- 
 piece of our literature ; and that Richardson is our only novelist. 
 Oh, no! — Madame Carolina would not have disgraced May Fair. 
 She knew Childe Harold by rote, and had even peeped into Don 
 Juan. Her admiration of the Edinburgh and Quarterly Reviews 
 was great and similar. To a Continental liberal, indeed, even the 
 Toryism of the Quarterly is philosophy ; and not an Under-Secre- 
 tary ever yet massacred a radical innovator, without giving loose 
 to some sentiments and sentences, which are considered rank trea- 
 son in the meridian of Vienna. 
 
 After some conversation, in Avhich Madame evinced eagerness to 
 gain details about the persons and manners of our most eminent 
 literary characters, she naturally began to speak of the literary 
 productions of other countries: and in short, ere an hour was 
 passed, Vivian Grey, instead of giving a lesson in Englisli pro- 
 nunciation to the Consort of the Grand-Duke of Reiscnburg, found 
 himself listening, in an easy chair, and with folded arms, to a long 
 treatise by that lady de VEsprit de Conversation. It was a most 
 brilliant dissertation. Her kindness in reading it to him was most 
 particular; nevertheless, for unexpected blessings we are not 
 always sufficiently grateful. 
 
 Another hour was consumed by the treatise. How slie refined ? 
 what unexpected distinctions! what exquisite discrimination of 
 national character ! what skilful eulogium of her own! Nothing 
 could be more splendid than her elaborate character of a repartee; 
 it would have sufficed for an epic poem. At length Madame Caro- 
 lina ceased de VEsprit de Conversation, and Vivian was success- 
 ful in concealing his weariness, and in testifying his admiration. 
 *' The evil is over," thought he ; " I may as well gain credit for my 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 361 
 
 good taste." The lesson in English pronunciation, however, was 
 not yet terminated. Madame was charmed with our hero's un- 
 common discrimination and extraordinary talents. He was the 
 most skilful and the most agreeable critic with whom she had ever 
 been acquainted. How invaluable must the opinion of such a 
 person be to her, on her great work ! No one had yet seen a line 
 of it ; but there are moments when we are irresistibly impelled to 
 seek a confidante — that confidante was before her. The morocco 
 case was unlocked, and the manuscript of Haroun Al Raschid re- 
 vealed to the enraptured eye of Vivian Grey. 
 
 " 1 flatter myself," said Madame Carolina, " that this work will 
 create a great sensation ; not only in Germany, It abounds, I 
 think, with interesting story, engaging incidents, and animated and 
 effective descriptions. I have not, of course, been able to obtain 
 any new matter respecting His Sublimit}', the Caliph. Between 
 ourselves, I do not think this very important. So far as I have ob- 
 served, we have matter enough in this world on every possible sub- 
 ject already. It is manner in which the literature of all nations 
 is deficient. It appeai-s to me, that the great point for persons of 
 genius now to direct their attention to, is the expansion of matter. 
 This, I conceive to be the great secret ; and this must be effected 
 by the art of picturesque ivriting. For instance, my dear IVIr. 
 Grey, I will open the Arabian Nights' Entertainments, merely for 
 an exemplification, at the one hundred and eighty-fifth night — 
 good ! Let us attend to the following passage : — 
 
 " ' In the reign of the Caliph Haroun Al Raschid, there was at 
 Bagdad a druggist, called Alboussan Ebn Tliaher, a very rich, hand- 
 some man. He had more wit and politeness than people of his 
 profession ordinarily have. His integrity, sincerity, and jovial hu- 
 mour, made him beloved and sought after by all sorts of people. 
 The Caliph, who knew his merit, had entire confidence in liira. 
 He had so great an esteem for him, that he entrusted him with the 
 care to provide his favourite ladies with all the things they stood 
 in need of. He chose for them their clothes, furniture, and jewels, 
 with admirable taste. His good qualities, and the favour of the 
 Caliph, made the sons of Emirs, and other Officers of the first 
 rank, be always about him. His house was the rendezvous of all 
 the nobility of the Court.' 
 
 " What capabilities lurk in this dry passage !" exclaimed Madame 
 Carolina ; " 1 touch it with my pen, aud transform it into a chapter. 
 It shall be one of those that I will read to you. The description 
 of Alboussan alone demands ten pages. There is no doubt that 
 his countenance was oriental. The tale says that lie was handsome : 
 I taint him with his eastern eye, his thin arched brow, his fra- 
 grant beard, his graceful mustachio. The tale says he was rich : 
 
86S VIVIAN GEEY. 
 
 I have authorities for the costume of men of his dignity in con- 
 temporary writers. In ray history, he appears in an upper garment 
 of green velvet, and loose trowsers of pink satin ; a jewelled dag- 
 ger lies in his golden girdle ; his slippers are of the richest cm- 
 broidery ; and he never omits the batli of roses daily. On this 
 system, which in my opinion elicits truth — for by it you are enabled 
 to form a conception of the manners of the age — on this system I 
 proceed throughout the paragraph. Conceive my account of his 
 house being the 'rendezvous of all the nobility of the Court.' 
 What a brilliant scene ! what variety of dress and character ! what 
 splendour ! what luxury ! what magnificence ! Imagine the detail 
 of the banquet; which, by-the-bye, gives me an opportunity of in- 
 serting, after the manner of your own Gibbon, ' a dissertation on 
 sherbet.' What think you of the art of picturesque writing?" 
 
 " Admirable ! " said Vivian ; " Von Chronicle himself " 
 
 " How can you mention the name of that odious man ! " almost 
 shrieked Madame Carolina, forgetting the dignity of her semi- 
 regal character, in the jealous feelings of the author. " How can 
 you mention him ! A scribbler without a spark, not only of genius, 
 but even of common invention. A miserable fellow, who seems to 
 do nothing but clothe and amplify, in his (.wn fantastic style, the 
 details of a parcel of old chronicles ! " 
 
 Madame's indignation reminded Vivian of a very true, but rather 
 vulgar proverb of his own country; and he extricated himself from 
 his very awkward situation, with a dexterity worthy of his former 
 years. 
 
 '■' Von Chronicle himself," said Vivian, " Von Chronicle himself, 
 as I was going to observe, will be the most mortified of all on the 
 appearance of your work. He cannot be so blinded by self- 
 conceit, as to foil to observe that your history is a thousand times 
 more interesting than his fiction. Ah ! Madame, if you can thus 
 spread enchantment over the hitherto weary page of history, what 
 must be your work of imagination ! " 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Vivian met Emilius von Aslingen in his ride through the gar- 
 dens. As that distinguished personage at present patronised tlie 
 English nation, and astounded the Reisenburg natives by driving 
 an English mail, riding English horses, and ruling English grooms, 
 lie deigned to be exceedingly courteous to our hero, whom he had 
 publicly declared at the soiree of the preceding night to be " very 
 good style." Such a character from sucli a man, raised Vivian 
 even more in the estimation of the Reisenburg world, than his 
 
VIVIAN' GKEY. 363 
 
 fliitterin^^ reception by the Grand-Duke, and his cordial greeting 
 by Madame Carolina. 
 
 " Shall you be at the Grand Marshal's to-night?" asked Vivian. 
 
 " Ah ! that is the new man — the man who was mediatised, is 
 not it?" 
 
 " The Prince of Little Lilliput." 
 
 " Yes!" drawled out Mr. von Aslingen. "I shall go if I have 
 courage enough ; but they say his servants wear skins, and ha has 
 got a tail." 
 
 The ball-room was splendidly illuminated. The whole of the 
 Royal Family was present, and did honour to their new officer of 
 state. His Royal Highness all smiles, and his Consort all dia- 
 monds. Stars and uniforms, ribbons and orders, abounded. The 
 diplomatic body wore the dresses of their respective Courts. Emi- 
 lius von Aslingen having given out in the morning, that he should 
 appear as a captain in the Royal Guards, the young lords and fops 
 of fashion were consequently ultra military. They were not a little 
 annoyed when, late in the evening, their model lounged in, wearing 
 the rich scarlet uniform of a Knight of Malta; of which newly- 
 revived order Von Aslingen, who had served half a campaign 
 against the Turks, was a member. 
 
 The Royal Family had arrived only a few minutes : dancing had 
 not yet commenced. Vivian was at the top of the room, honoured 
 by the notice of Madame Carolina, who complained of his yester- 
 day's absence from the palace. Suddenly the universal hum and 
 buzz, which are always sounding in a crowded room, were stUled ; 
 and all present, arrested in their conversation and pursuits, stood 
 with their heads turned towards the great door. Thither also Vi- 
 vian looked, and, wonderstruck, beheld — Mr. Beckendorff. His 
 singular appearance, for with the exception of his cavalry boots, 
 he presented the same figure as when he first came forward to re- 
 ceive the Prince of Little Lilliput and Vivian on the lawn, imme- 
 diately attracted universal attention ; but in this crowded room, 
 there were a few who, either from actual experience, or accurate 
 information, were not ignorant that this personage was the Prime 
 Minister. The report spread like wildfire. Even the etiquette 
 of a German ball-room, honoured as it was by the presence of 
 the Court, was no restraint to the curiosity and wonder of all pre- 
 sent. Yes ! even EmUius von Aslingen raised his glass to his eve. 
 But great as was Vivian's astonishment, it was not only occasioned 
 by this unexpected appearance of his former host. Mr. Becken- 
 dorff was not alone : a woman was leaning on his left arm. A 
 quick glance in a moment convinced Vivian, that she was not the 
 original of the mysterious picture. The companion of Becken- 
 dorff was very young. Her full voluptuous growth gave you, for 
 
364 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 a moment, the impression that she was somewhat low in stature ; 
 but it was only for a moment, for the lady was by no means short. 
 Her beauty it is impossible to describe. It was of a kind that 
 baffles all phrases, nor have I a single simile at command, to make 
 it more clear, or more confused. Her luxurious form, her blonde 
 complexion, her silken hair, would have all become the languishing 
 Sultana ; but then her eyes, — they banished all idea of the Serag- 
 lio, and were the most decidedly European, though the most bril- 
 liant, that ever glanced ; eagles might have proved their young at 
 them. To a countenance which otherwise would have been calm, 
 and perhaps pensive, they gave an expression of extreme vivacity 
 and unusual animation, and perhaps of restlessness and arrogance 
 — it might have been courage. The lady was dressed in the cos- 
 tume of a Chanoinesse of a Couvent des dames nobles ; an institu- 
 tion to which Protestant and Catholic ladies are alike admitted. 
 The orange-coloured cordon of her cauonry was slung gracefully 
 over her plain black silk-dress, and a diamond cross hung belov/ 
 her waist. 
 
 Mr. Beckendorff and his fair companion were iustantly welcomed 
 by the Grand Marshal ; and Arnelm, and half-a-dozen Chamber- 
 lains, all in new uniforms, and extremely agitated, did their utmost, 
 ])y their exertions in clearing the way, to prevent the Prime 
 Minister of Reisenburg from paying his respects to his Sovereign. 
 At length, however, Mr. Beckendorff reached the top of the room, 
 and presented the young lady to his Royal Highness, and also to 
 Madame Carolina. Vivian had retired on their approach, and now 
 found himself among a set of young officers — idolaters of Von As- 
 lingen, and of white hats lined with crimson. " Who can she 
 be?" was the universal question. Though all by the query ac- 
 knowledged their ignorance, yet it is singular that, at the same 
 time, every one was prepared with a response to it. Such are the 
 sources of accurate information ! 
 
 " And that is BeckendorlT, is it?" exclaimed the yoiuig Count 
 of Eberstein ; " and his daughter, of course ! Well ; there is 
 nothing like being a plebeian and a Prime Minister ! I suppose 
 Beckendorff will bring an anonymous friend to Court next." 
 
 " She cannot be his daugliter," said BernstorfT. " To be a Clia^ 
 noinesse of that order, remember she must be noble.'"' 
 
 " Then she must bo his niece," answered the young Count of 
 Eberstein. " I tliink I do remember some confused story about a 
 sister of Beckendorft", wlio ran away with some Wirtemberg Baron. 
 What was that story, Gcrnsbach?" 
 
 " No, it was not his sister," said tlie Baron of Gernsbach ; " it 
 was his aunt, I think." 
 
 " Beckendorff's aunt, what an idea! as if he ever liad an aunt ! 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 365 
 
 Men of his calibre make themselves out of mud. They have 
 no relations. Well, never mind ; there was some story, I am sure, 
 about some woman or other. Depend upon it, that this girl is the 
 child of that woman ; whether she be aunt, niece, or daughter. I 
 shall go and tell every one that I know the whole business ; this 
 girl is the daughter of some woman or other." — So saying, away 
 walked the young Count of Eberstein, to disseminate in all direc- 
 tions the important conclusion to which his logical head had 
 allowed him to arrive. 
 
 " Von Weinbren," said the Baron of Gernsbach, " how can you 
 account for this mysterious appearance of the Premier ? " 
 
 " Oh! when men are on the decline, they do desperate things. I 
 suppose it is to please the renegado." 
 
 " Hush ! there's the Englishman behind you." 
 
 " On dit, another child of Beckeudorff." 
 
 " Oh no! — secret mission." 
 
 " Ah ! indeed." 
 
 " Here comes Von Asliugen ! Well, great Emilius ! how solve 
 you this mystery?" 
 
 " What mystery ? Is there one ?" 
 
 " I allude to this wonderful appearance of Beckeudorff." 
 
 " Beckeudorff! what a name! who is he ?" 
 
 " Nonsense ! the Premier." 
 
 "Well!" 
 
 " You have seen him of course ; he is here. Have you just come 
 in?" 
 
 "Beckendorff here!" said Von Aslingen, in a tone of affected 
 horror ; " I did not know that the fellow was to be visited. It is 
 all over with Reisenburg. I shall go to Vienna to-morrow." 
 
 But hark! the sprightly music calls to the dance; and first the 
 stately Polonaise, an easy gradation between walking and dancing. 
 To the surprise of the whole room, and tlie indignation of many of 
 the high nobles, the Crown Prince of Reisenburg led off the 
 Polonaise with the unknown fair one. Such an attention to 
 Beckendorff was a distressing proof of present power and favour. 
 The Polonaise is a dignified promenade, with which German balls 
 invariably commence. The cavaliers, with an air of studied 
 grace, ofler their right hands to their fair partners ; and the whole 
 party, in a long file, accurately follow the leading couple through 
 all their scientific evolutions, as they wind through every part of 
 the room. Waltzes in sets speedily followed the Polonaise ; and the 
 unknown, who was now an object of universal attention, danced 
 with Count von Sohnspeer, another of Beckendorff's numerous 
 progeny, if the reader remember. How scurvily are poor single 
 gentlemen, who live alone, treated by the candid tongues of their 
 
366 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 fellow-creatures! The commander-in-cliief of the Reisenburg- 
 troops was certainly a partner of a very different complexion from 
 the young lady's previous one. The Crown Prince had under- 
 taken his duty with reluctance, and had performed it without 
 grace ; not a single word had he exchanged with his partner 
 during the promenade, and his genuine listlessness was even more 
 offensive than affected apathy. Von Sohuspeer, on the contrary, 
 danced in the true Vienna style, and whirled like a dervish. All 
 our good English prejudices against the soft, the swimming, the 
 sentimental, melting, undulating, dangerous waltz, would quickly 
 disappear, if we only executed the dreaded manoeuvres in the true 
 Austrian style. One might as soon expect our daughters to get 
 sentimental in a swing. 
 
 Vivian did not choose to presume upon his late acquaintance 
 with Mr. Beckendorff, as it had not been sought by that gentleman, 
 and he consequently did not pay his respects to the IVIinLster. Mr. 
 Beckendorff continued at the top of the room, standing between 
 the state chairs of his Royal Highness and Madame Carolina, and 
 occasionally addressing an observation to his Sovereign, and 
 answering one of the lady's. Had Mr. Beckendorff been in the 
 habit of attending balls nightly, he could not have exhibited 
 more perfect nonchalance. There he stood, with his arms 
 crossed behind him, his chin resting on his breast, and his raised 
 eyes glancing ! 
 
 " My dear Prince," said Vivian to the Grand Marshal, " you 
 are just the person I wanted to speak to. How came you 
 to invite Beckendorff — and how came he to accept the invi- 
 tation ? " 
 
 " My dear friend," said his Highness, shrugging his shoulders, 
 " wonders will never cease. I never invited him ; I should just as 
 soon have thought of inviting old Johannisberger." 
 
 " Were not you aware, then, of his intention ? " 
 
 " Not in the least ! you should rather say attention ; for, I assure 
 you, I consider it a most particular one. It is quite astonishing, 
 my dear friend, how I mistook that man's character. He really 
 is one of the most gentlemanlike, polite, and excellent persons I 
 know ; no more mad than you are ! And as for his power being 
 on the decline, we know the nonsense of that!" 
 
 " Better than most persons, I suspect. Sievers, of course, is not 
 here?" 
 
 " No ! you have heard about him, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Heard ! — heard Avhat ? " 
 
 " Not heard ! well, he told me yesterday, and said he was going 
 to call upon you directly to let you know." 
 
 "Know what?" 
 
VIVIAN GEEY. 36? 
 
 " He 18 a very sensible man, Sievcrs ; and I am very glad at last 
 that he is likely to succeed in the world. All men have their 
 little imprudences, and he was a little too hot once. What of 
 that ? He has come to his senses — so have I ; and I hope you will 
 never lose yours ! " 
 
 " But pray, my dear Prince, tell me what has happened to 
 Sievers." 
 
 " He is going to Vienna immediately, and will be very useful 
 there I have no doubt. He has got a very good place, and 
 I am sure he will do his duty. They cannot have an abler 
 man." 
 
 " Vienna ! that is the last city in the world in which I should 
 expect to find Mr. Sievers, What place can he have? — and what 
 services can he perform there ? " 
 
 " Many ! he is to be Editor of the Austrian Observer, and 
 Censor of the Austrian Press. I thought he would do well at 
 last. All men have their imprudent day. I had. I cannot stop 
 now — I must go and speak to the Countess von S ." 
 
 As Vivian was doubting whether he should most grieve or 
 laugh, at this singular termination of Mr. Sievers' career, his arm 
 was suddenly touched, and on turning round, he found it was by 
 Mr. Eeckendorfi". 
 
 " There is another very strong ai'gument, sir," said the Minister, 
 without any of the usual phrases of recognition ; " there is another 
 very strong argument against your doctrine of Destiny." And 
 then Mr. Beckendorff, taking Vivian by the arm, began walking 
 up and down part of the saloon with him ; and in a few minutes, 
 quite forgetting the scene of the discussion, he was involved in 
 metaphysics. This incident created another great sensation, and 
 whispers of " secret mission — Secretary of State — decidedly a 
 son," &c. &c. &c., were in an instant afloat in all parts of the 
 room. 
 
 The approach of his Royal Highness extricated Vivian from an 
 argument, which was as profound as it was interminable ; and as 
 Mr. Beckendorff retired with the Grand-Duke into a recess in the 
 ball-room, Vivian was requested by Von Neuwied to attend his 
 Excellency the Grand Marshal. 
 
 " My dear friend," said the Prince, " I saw you talking with a 
 certain person. I did not say anything to you when I passed you 
 before ; but to tell you the truth now, 1 was a little annoyed tliat 
 he had not spoken to you. I knew you were as proud as Lucifer, 
 and would not salute him yourself; and between ourselves I had 
 no great wish you should ; for, not to conceal it, he did not even 
 mention your name. But the reason of this is now quite evi- 
 dent, and you must confess he is remarkably courteous. You 
 
368 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 know, if you remember, we thought that incognito was a little 
 affected — rather annoying, if you recollect. I remember in the 
 green lane, you gave him a gentle cut about it. It Avas very 
 spirited, and I dare say, did good. Well ! — what I was going to 
 say about that, is this ; I dare say now, after all," continued his 
 Excellency, with a very knowing look, " a certain person had very 
 good reasons for that; not that he ever told them to me, nor that 
 I have the slightest idea of them ; but wlien a person is really so 
 exceedingly polite and attentive, I always think he would never do 
 anything disagreeable without a cause, — and it was exceedingly 
 disagreeable, if you remember, my dear friend. I never knew to 
 whom he was speaking. Von Philipson indeed ! Well ! we did 
 not think, the day we were floundering down that turf road, that 
 it would end in this. Rather a more brilliant scene than the 
 Giants' Hall at Turriparva, I think, eh? But all men have their 
 imprudent days ; the best way is to forget them. There was poor 
 Sievers ; who ever did more imprudent things than he ? and now 
 it is very likely he will do very well in the world, eh ? What 
 I want of you, my dear friend, is this. Tliore is that girl who 
 came with Beckendorff; who the deuce she is, I don't know: — let 
 us hope the best ! We must pay her every attention. I dare say 
 she is his daughter. You have not forgotten the portrait. Well ! 
 we all were gay once. All men have their imprudent day; — why 
 should not Beckendorff? — speaks rather in his favoui-, I think. 
 Well, this girl; — his Royal Highness very kindly made the Crown 
 Prince walk the Polonaise with her — very kind of him, and very 
 proper. What attention can be too great for the daughter or 
 friend of such a man ! — a man who, in two words, may be said to 
 liave made Reisenburg. For what was Reiseuburg before Becken- 
 dorff? Ah! what? Perhaps we were happier then, after all; 
 and then there was no Royal Highness to bow to ; no person to 
 be condescending, except ourselves. But never mind ! we will 
 forget. After all, this life has its charms. What a brilliant 
 scene ! — but this girl — every attention should be paid Jier. The 
 Crown Prince was so kind as to walk the Polonaise with her ; — 
 find Von Sohnspeer — he is a brute, to be sure ; but then he is a 
 Field Marshal. Now, I think, considering what has taken place 
 between Beckendorff and yourself, and the very distinguished 
 manner in Avhich lie recognised you ; I think, that after all this, 
 and considering everything, the etiquette is for you, particularly as 
 you are a foreigner, and my personal friend — indeed my most 
 particular friend, for in fact I owe everything to you — my life, and 
 more than my life; I think, I repeat, considering all this, that 
 the least you can do is to ask her to dance with you ; and I, as 
 the host, will introduce you. I am sorry, my dear friend," con- 
 
VIVIAN GKET. 369 
 
 tinued his Excellency, with a look of great regret, " to intro- 
 duce you t» ; but we will not speak about it. We have no 
 
 right to complain of Mr. Beckendorff. No person could possibly 
 behave to us in a manner more gentlemanlike." 
 
 After an introductory speech, in his Excellency's happiest 
 manner, and in which an eulogiura of Vivian, and a compliment 
 to the fair unknown, got almost as completely entangled as the 
 origin of slavery, and the history of the feudal system, in his more 
 celebrated harangue, Vivian found himself Avaltziug with the 
 anonymous beauty. The Grand Marshal, during the process of 
 introduction, had given the young lady every opportunity of de- 
 claring her name ; but every opportunity was thrown away. " She 
 must be incog.," whispered his Excellency : " Miss von Philipson, 
 I suppose ? " 
 
 Vivian was not a little desirous of discovering the nature of the 
 relationship, or connection, between Beckendorff and his partner. 
 The rapid waltz allowed no pause for conversation ; but after the 
 dance, Vivian seated himself at her side, with the determination 
 of not very quickly deserthig it. The lady did not even allow him 
 the satisfaction of corjmencing the conversation; for no sooner 
 was she seated, than she begged to know who the person was with 
 whom she had previously waltzed. The history of Count von 
 Sohnspeer exceedingly amused her ; and no sooner had Vivian 
 finished his anecdote, than the lady said, '• Ah ! I see you are an 
 amusing person. Now tell me the history of everybody in the 
 room." 
 
 " Really," said Vivian, " I fear I shall forfeit my reputation of 
 being amusing very speedily ; for I am almost as great a stranger 
 at this Court as you appear to be yourself. Count von Sohnspeer 
 is too celebrated a personage at Reisenburg, to have allowed even 
 rae to be long ignorant of his history ; and, as for the rest, so far 
 as I can judge, they are most of them as obscure as myself, and 
 not nearly as interesting as you are ! " 
 
 " Are you an Englishman ? " asked the lady. 
 
 « I am." 
 
 " I supposed so, both from your travelling and your appearance : 
 I think the English countenance very peculiar." 
 
 " Indeed ! we do not flatter ourselves so at home." 
 
 " Yes! it is peculiar," said the lady, in a tone which seemed to 
 imply that contradiction was unusual ; " and I think that you are 
 all handsome ! I admire the English, which in this part of the 
 world is singular; in the South, you know, we are generally 
 francise." 
 
 " I am aware of that," said Vivian. " There, for instance," 
 pointing to a very pompous-looking personage, who at that mo- 
 
 24 
 
870 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 luent strutted by; "there, for instance, is the most /mnme person 
 in all Reisenburg! that is our Grand Chamberlain. He considers 
 himself a felicitous copy of Louis the Fourteenth ! He allows no- 
 thing in his opinions and phrases but what is orthodox. As it 
 generally happens in such cases, his orthodoxy is rather obso- 
 lete." 
 
 " Who is that knight of Malta?" asked the lady. 
 
 " The most powerful individual in the room," answered Vivian. 
 
 " Who can he be ? " asked the lady, with eagerness. 
 
 "Behold him, and tremble!" rejoined Vivian : "for with him 
 it rests to decide whether you are civilised, or a savage ; whether 
 you are to be abhorred, or admired ; idolised, or despised. Nay, 
 do not be alarmed! there are a few heretics, even in Reisenburg, 
 who, like myself, value from conviction, and not from fashion; 
 and who will be ever ready, in spite of a Von Aslingen anathema, 
 to evince our admiration where it is due." 
 
 The lady pleaded fatigue, as an excuse for not again dancing ; 
 and Vivian did not quit her side. Her lively remarks, piquant 
 observations, and veiy singular questions, highly amused him ; and 
 he was equally flattered by the endent gratification which his 
 conversation afforded her. It was chiefly of the principal mem- 
 bers of the Court that she spoke : she was delighted with Vivian's 
 glowing character of Madame Carolina, whom she said she had 
 this evening seen for the fii-st time. Who this unknown could be, 
 was a question which often occurred to him ; and the singularity 
 of a man like Beckendorff", suddenly breaking through his habits, 
 and outraging the whole system of his existence, to please a 
 daughter, or niece, or female cousin, did not fail to strike him. 
 
 " I have the honour of being acquainted with Mr. Becken- 
 dorff," said Vivian. This was the first time that the Minister's 
 name had been mentioned. 
 
 " I perceived you talking with him," was the ansM'er. 
 
 " You are staying, I suppose, at Mr. Beckeudorff's V 
 
 " Not at present." 
 
 " You liave, of course, been at his retreat — delightful place!" 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 " Arc you an ornithologist ?" asked Vivian, smiling. 
 
 " Not at all scientific ; but I, of course, can now tell a lory 
 from a Java sparrow, and a bullfinch from a canary. Tlie first 
 day I was there, I never shall forget the surprise I experienced, 
 when, after the noon meal being finished, the aviary door was 
 opened. After that, I always let the creatures out myself; and 
 one day I opened all the cages at once. If you could but have 
 Vr-itnessed the scene ! I am sure you would have been quite de- 
 lighted with it. As for poor Mr. Beckendoiff, I thought even he 
 
VIVIAN or.Er. ■ 371 
 
 would hare gone out of his mind; and when I broiig^ht in the 
 white peacock, he actually left the room in despair. Pray how do 
 you like Madame Clara, and Owlface too? Which do you thitik 
 the most beautiful ? I am no great favourite with the old lady. 
 Indeed, it was very kind of Mr. Beekendorff to bear with every- 
 thing as he did: I am sure he is not much used to lady 
 visitors." 
 
 " I trust that your visit to him will not be very short ? " 
 
 " My stay at Reisenburg will not be very long," said the young- 
 lady, with rather a grave countenance. " Have you been here 
 any time?" 
 
 '• About a fortnight ; it was a mere chance my coming at all. 
 I was going on straight to Vienna." 
 
 " To Vienna, indeed ! Well, I am glad you did not mi>s Reisen- 
 burg; you must not quit it now. You know that this is not the 
 Vienna season ? " 
 
 " I am aware of it ; but I am such a restless person, that 
 I never regulate my movements by those of other people." 
 
 " But surely you find Reisenburg very agreeable ?" 
 
 " Very much so ; but I am a confirmed wanderer." 
 
 "Why are you ?" asked the lady, with great naivete. 
 
 Vivian looked grave ; and the lady, as if she were sensible of 
 having unintentionally occasioned him a painful recollection, again 
 expressed her wish that he should not immediately quit the Court, 
 and trusted that circumstances would not prevent him acceding to 
 her desire. 
 
 " It does not even depend upon circumstances," said Vivian ; 
 " the whim of the moment is my only principle of action, and 
 therefore I may be off to-night, or be here a month hence." 
 
 " Oh ! pray stay then," said his companion, eagerly ; " 1 expect 
 you to stay now. If you eould only have an idea what a relief 
 conversing with you is, after having been dragged by the Crown 
 Prince, and whirled by that Von Sohuspeer! Heigho! I could 
 almost sigli at the very remembrance of that doleful Polonaise." 
 
 The lady ended, with a faint laugh, a sentence which apparently 
 had been commenced in no light vein. She did not cease speak- 
 ng, but continued to request Vivian to remain at Reisenburg at 
 east as long as herself. Her frequent requests were perfectly 
 imuecessary, for the promise had been pledged at the first hint of 
 her wish; but this was not the only time during the evening that 
 Vivian had remarked that his interesting companion occasionally 
 ttdked without apparently being sensible that she was conversing. 
 
 The young Count of Eberstein, who, to use his own plirase, 
 was ' sadly involved,' and consequently very desirous of being ap- 
 pointed a forest Councillor, thought that he should secure his 
 
872 VIVIAN GEEY. 
 
 appointment by condescending to notice the person whom he 
 delicately styled ' the Minister's female relative.' To his great 
 mortification and surprise, the honour was declined ; and ' the 
 female relative,* being- unwilling to dance again, but perhaps 
 feeling it necessary to break off her conversation with her late 
 partner, it having already lasted an unusual time, highly gratified 
 his Excellency the Grand Marshal by declaring that slie would 
 dance with Prince Maximilian. *' This, to say the least, was very 
 attentive of Miss von Philipson." 
 
 Little Max, who had just tact enough to discover, that to be the 
 partner of the fair incognita was the place of honour of the even- 
 ing, now considered himself by much the most important per- 
 sonage in the room. In fact, he was only second to Emiiius von 
 Aslingen. The evident contest which was ever taking place 
 between his natural feelings as a boy, and his acquired habits as a 
 courtier, made him a very amusing companion. He talked of the 
 Gardens, and the Opera, in a style not unworthy of the young 
 Count of Eberstein. He thought that Madame Carolina was as 
 charming as usual to-night ; but, on the contrary', that the Coun- 
 tess von S was looking rather ill — and this put him in mind 
 
 of her ladyship's new equipage ; and then, a propos to equipages, 
 what did his companion think of the new fashion of the Hungarian 
 harness? His lively and kind companion encouraged the boy's 
 tattle; and, emboldened by her good-nature, he soon forgot his 
 artificial speeches, and was quickly rattling on about Turriparva, 
 and his horfies, and his dogs, and his park, and his guns, and his 
 grooms. Soon after the waltz, the lady, taking the arm of the 
 young Prince, walked up to Mr. Beckendorff. He received her 
 with great attention, and led her to Madame Carolina, who rose, 
 seated Mr. Beckendorff 's ' female relative' by her side, and evi- 
 dently said something extremely agreeable. 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 Vivian had promised Madame Carolina a second English lesson 
 on the day after the Grand Marshal's fete. The progress which 
 the lady had made, and tlie talent Avhich the gentleman liad evinced 
 during the first, had rendered Madame the most enthusiastic of 
 pupils, and Vivian, in lier estimation, the able?t of instructors. 
 Madame Carolina's passion was patronage. To discover concealed 
 merit, to encourage neglected genius, to reveal the mysteries of 
 the world to a novice in mankind, or, in short, to make herself 
 very agreeable to any one whom she fancied to be very interesting, 
 •was the great business and the great delight of her existence. 
 
VIVIAN GBEY. 373 
 
 No sooner had her eyes lighted on Vivian Grey, than she deter- 
 mined to patronise. His country, his appearance, the romantic 
 manner in which he had become connected with the Court, 
 all pleased her lively imagination. She was intuitively ac- 
 quainted with his whole history, and in an instant he was the 
 hero of a romance, of which the presence of the principal cha- 
 racter compensated, we may suppose, for the somewhat indefinite 
 details. His taste and literary acquirements completed the spell 
 by which iNIadame Carolina was willingly enchanted. A low Dutch 
 professor, whose luminous genius rendered unnecessary the cere- 
 mony of shaving; and a dumb dwarf, in whose interesting ap- 
 pearance was forgotten its perfect idiocy ; a prosy improvisatore, 
 and a South American savage, — were all superseded on the appear- 
 ance of Vivian Grey. 
 
 As Madiime Carolina was, in fact, a charming woman, our hero 
 had no objection to humour her harmless foibles ; and not con- 
 tented with making notes in an interleaved copy of her Charle- 
 magne, he even promised to read Haroun Al Raschid in manu- 
 script. The consequence of his courtesy, and the reward of his 
 taste, was unbounded favour. Apartments in the palace were 
 offered him, and declined; and when IMadame Carolina had be- 
 come acquainted with sufficient of his real history, to know that, 
 on his part, neither wish nor necessity existed to return imme- 
 diately to his own country, she tempted him to remain at Reisen- 
 burg by an offer of a place at Court ; and doubtless, had he been 
 willing, Vivian might in time have become a Lord Chamberlain, 
 or perhaps even a Field Marshal. 
 
 On entering the room, the morning in question, he found 
 Madame Carolina writing. At the end of the apartment, a lady 
 ceased, on his appearance, humming an air to which she was 
 dancing, and at the same time imitating castanets. Madame re- 
 ceived Vivian with expressions of delight, saying also, in a pecu- 
 liar and confidential manner, that she was just sealing up a packet 
 for him, the preface of Haroun ; and then she presented him to 
 ' the Baroness! ' The lady who was lately dancing-, came forward. 
 It was his unknown partner of the preceding night. ' The Ba- 
 roness' extended her hand to Vivian, and unaffectedly expressed 
 her great pleasure at seeing him again. Vivian trusted that she 
 was not fatigued by the fete, and asked after Mr. Beckendorff. 
 Madame Carolina was busily engaged at the moment in duly 
 securing the precious preface. The Baroness said that Mr. Beck- 
 endorff had returned home, but that Madame Carolina liad kindly 
 insisted upon her staying at the palace. She was not the least 
 wearied. Last night had been one of the most agreeable she had 
 ever spent — at least she supposed she ought to say so : for if she 
 
374 VIVIAN GKET. 
 
 had experienced a tedious or mournful feeling for a moment, it 
 was hardly for what was then passing', so much as for " 
 
 •' Pray, Mr. Grey," said Madame Carolina, interrupting them, 
 " have you heard ahout our new ballet ? " 
 
 " No ! •" 
 
 " I do not think you have ever been to our Opera. To-morrow 
 is Opera night, and you must not be again away. Wc pride our 
 selves here very much upon our Opera." 
 
 " We estimate it even in England," said Vivian, " as possessing 
 perhaps the most perfect orchestra now organised." 
 
 " The orcliestra is perfect. His Royal Highness is such an ex- 
 cellent musician, and he has spared no trouble nor ejqiense in 
 forming it : he has always superintended it himself. But I con- 
 fess, 1 admire our ballet department still more. I expect you to 
 be delighted with it. You will perhaps be gTatified to know, that 
 the subject of our new splendid ballet, which is to be produced 
 to-morrow, is from a great work of your illustrious poet — my Lord 
 Byron." 
 
 " From which ? " 
 
 " The Corsair. Ah ! what a sublime work ! — what passion ! — 
 •what energy ! — what knowledge of feminine feeling ! — what con- 
 trast of character! — what sentiments ! — what situations! I wish 
 this were Opera night — Gulnare ! my favourite character — beau- 
 tiful ! How do you think they will dress her ? " 
 
 "Are you an admirer of our Byron?" asked Vivian, of the 
 Baroness. 
 
 " I think he is a very handsome man. I once saw him at the 
 carnival at Venice." 
 
 " But his works — his grand works ! ma chere petite," said 
 Madame Carolina, in her sweetest tone ; '•' you liave read his 
 works?" 
 
 " Not a lino," answered the Baroness, with great naivete ; " I 
 never saw them." 
 
 " Pau\Te enfant ! " said Madame Carolina ; '• I will employ you 
 then while you are here." 
 
 " I never read," said the Baroness ; " I cannot bear it. I like 
 poetry and romances, but I like somebody to read to me." 
 
 "Very just!"' said Madame Carolina; " wc can judge M'ith 
 gi'eater accuracy of the merit of a composition, when it reaches 
 our mind merely tlirough the medium of the human voice. The 
 soul is an essence, — invisible and indivisible. In this respect, the 
 voice of man resembles the principle of his existence ; since few 
 will deny, tliougli tliere are some materialists wlio will deny 
 everything, that tlie human voice is both inipal])able, and audible 
 only in one place at the same time. Hence, I ask, is it illogical 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 375 
 
 to infer its indivisibility ? Tlie soul and the voice, then, are similar 
 in two great attributes ; there is a secret harmony in their spiritual 
 construction. In the early ag-es of mankind a beautiful tradition 
 was afloat, that the soul and the voice were one and the same. 
 We may perhaps recognise in this fanciful belief, the effect of the 
 fascinating and imaginative philosophy of the East ; that mysterious 
 portion of the globe," continued Madame Carolina, " from which 
 we should frankly confess that we derive everything : for the South 
 is but the pupil of the East, through the mediation of Egypt. Of 
 this opinion,"' said Madame with fervour, " I have no doubt : of 
 this opinion," continued the lady with enthusiasm, " I have boldly 
 avowed myself a votary in a dissertation appended to the second 
 volume of Harouu : for this opinion I would die at the stake ! Oh, 
 lovely East ! why was I not oriental ! Land where the voice of the 
 nightingale is never mute ! Land of the cedar and the citron, the 
 turtle and the myrtle — of ever-blooming flowers, and ever-shining 
 skies ! Illustrious East! Cradle of Philosophy! My dearest Baroness, 
 why do not you feel as I do ! From the East we obtain everything ! " 
 
 " Indeed ! " said the Baroness, with great simplicity ; " I thought 
 we only got cashmere shawls." 
 
 This puzzling answer was only noticed by Vivian ; for the 
 truth is, Madame Carolina was one of those individuals who 
 never attend to any person's answers. Always thinking of her- 
 self, she only asked questions that she herself might supply the re- 
 sponses. And now having made, as she flattered herself, a splendid 
 display to her favourite critic, she began to consider what had 
 given rise to her oration. Lord Byron and the ballet again oc- 
 curred to her ; and as the Baroness, at least, was not unwilling to 
 listen, and as she herself had no manuscript of her own which she 
 particularly wished to Ise perused, she, proposed that Vivian should 
 read to them part of the Corsair, and in the original tongue. 
 Madame Carolina opened the volume at the first prison scene be- 
 tween Gulnare and Conrad. It was her favourite. Vivian read 
 with care and feeling. Madame was in raptures, and the Baroness, 
 although she did not understand a single syllable, seemed almost 
 equally delighted. At length Vivian came to this passage — 
 
 " My love stern Seyd's ! Oh — no — no — not my love ! — 
 Yet much this heart, that strives no more, once strove 
 To meet his passion — but it would not be. 
 I felt — I feel — love dwells with — with the free — 
 I am a slave, a favour'd slave at best. 
 To sliure his splendour, and seem very blest! 
 Oft muit my soul the question undergo, 
 Of — 'Dost thou lover' and burn to answer 'No!' 
 
376 VIVIAN GEEY. 
 
 Oh ! hard it is that fondness to sustain, 
 
 And strugo;le not to feel averse in vain ; 
 
 But harder still the heart's recoil to bear 
 
 And hide from one — perhaps another there ; — 
 
 He takes the hand I give not nor withhold — 
 
 Its pulse nor check'd — nor quicken'd — calmly cold : 
 
 And when resign'd, it drops a lifeless weight 
 
 From one I never lov'd enough to hate. 
 
 No warmth these lijjs return by his imprest, 
 
 And chill'd remembrance shudders o'er the rest. 
 
 Yes — had I ever prov'd that passion's zeal, 
 
 The change to hatred were at least to feel : 
 
 But still — he goes uumourn'd — returns unsought — 
 
 And oft when present — absent from my thought. 
 
 Or when reflection comes, and come it must — 
 
 I fear that henceforth 'twill but bring disgust : 
 
 I am his slave — but, in despite of pride, 
 
 'Twere worse than bondage to become his bride." 
 
 " Superb ! " said Madame, in a voice of enthusiasm ; " how true ! 
 what passion ! what energy ! what sentiments ! what knowledge 
 of femiuiue feeliug ! Read it .again, I pray : it is my favourite 
 passage." 
 
 " What is this passage about ? " asked the Baroness, with some 
 anxiety; "tell me?" 
 
 " I have a French translation, ma mignoune," said Madame; '''you 
 shall have it afterwards." 
 
 " Ko ! I detest reading," said the young lady, with an imperious 
 air ; "translate it to me at once." 
 
 "You are rather a self-willed beauty!" thought Vivian ; "but 
 your eyes are so brilliant that nothing must be refused you ! " and 
 80 he translated it. 
 
 On its conclusion, Madame was again in raptures. The Ba- 
 roness was not less affected, but she said nothing. She appeared 
 agitated ; she changed colour — raised her beautiful eyes with an 
 expression of sorrow — looked at Vivian earnestly, and then walked 
 to the other end of the room. In a few moments she returued to 
 her seat. 
 
 " I wish you would tell me the story," she said, with great ear- 
 nestness. 
 
 " I have a French translation, ma belle ! " said Madame Carolina; 
 "at present I wish to trouble Mr. Grey with a few questions." 
 Madame Carolina led Vivian into a recess. 
 
 " I am sorry we are troubled with this sweet little savage ; but I 
 think she has taleut, though evidently quite uneducated. We 
 
VIVIAN OBEY. 37T 
 
 must do what we can for her. Her ignorance of all breeding is 
 amusing, but then I think she has a natural elegance. We shall 
 soon polish her. His Royal Highness is so anxious that every 
 attention should be paid to her. Beckendoi'ff, you know, is a man 
 of the greatest genius. (Madame Carolina had lowered her tone 
 about the Minister since the Prince of Little Lilliput's apostasy.) 
 The country is greatly indebted to him. This, between ourselves, 
 is his daughter. At least I have no doubt of it. Beckendorff was 
 once married — to a lady of great rank — died early — beautiful 
 woman — very interesting ! His Royal Highness had a great re- 
 gard for her. The Premier, in his bereavement, turned humourist, 
 and has brought up this lovely girl in the oddest possible manner — 
 nobody knows where. Now that he finds it necessary to bring her 
 forward, he, of course, is quite at a loss. His Royal Highness has 
 applied to me. There was a little coldness before between the 
 Minister and myself. It is now quite removed. I must do what 
 I can for her. I think she must marry Von Sohnspeer, who is no 
 more Beckendorff's son than you are : or young P]berstein — or 
 young Berustorff — or young Gernsbach. We must do something 
 for her. I offered her last night to Emilius von Aslingen ; but he 
 said, that unfortunately he was just importing a savage or two 
 of his own from the Brazils, and consequently was not in want of 
 her." 
 
 A chamberlain now entered, to announce the speedy arrival of 
 his Royal Highness. The Baroness, without ceremony, expressed 
 her great regret that he was coming-, as now she should not hear 
 the wishcd-for story. Madame Carolina reproved her, and the 
 reproof was endured rather than submitted to. 
 
 His Royal Highness entered, and was accompanied by the Crown 
 Prince. He greeted the young lady with great kindness; and. 
 even the Crown Prince, inspired by his father's unusual warmth, 
 made a shuffling kind of bow, and a stuttering kind of speech. 
 Vivian was about to retire on the entrance of the Grand-Duke, 
 but Madame Carolina prevented him, and his Royal Highness 
 turning round, very graciously seconded her desire, and added that 
 Mr. Grey was the very gentleman with whom he was desirous of 
 meeting. 
 
 " I am anxious," said he to Vivian, in rather a low tone, " to 
 make Reisenburg agreeable to Mr. Beckendorff's fair friend. As 
 you are one of the few who are honoured by his intimacy, and are 
 familiar with some of our state secrets," added the Grand-Duke 
 with a smile, " I am sure it will give you pleasure to assist me in 
 the execution of my wishes." 
 
 His Royal Higlmess proposed that the ladies should ride ; and 
 he himself, with the Crown Prince and Mr. Grey, would attend 
 
378 VIVJAN GKEY, 
 
 tlietn. Madame Carolina expressed her williTig'ness ; but the 
 Baroness, like all forward girls unused to the world, suddenly grew 
 at the same time both timid and disobliging. She looked sullen 
 and discontented, and coolly said that she did not feel in the humour 
 to ride for at least these two hours. To Vivian's surprise, even 
 the Graiid-Duke humoured her fancy, and declared that he should 
 then be happy to attend them after the Court dimier. Until that 
 time Vivian was amused by Miulame ; and the Grand-Duke exclu- 
 sively devoted himself to the Baroness. His Royal Highness was 
 in his happiest mood ; and his winning manners and elegant con- 
 versation soon chased away the cloud which, for a moment, had 
 settled on the young lady's fair brow. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The Grand-Duke of Reisenburg was an enthusiastic lover cf 
 music, and his people were consequently music mad. The whole 
 city were fiddling day and night, or blowing trumpets, oboes, and 
 bassoons. Sunday, however, was the most liarmonious day in the 
 week. The Opera amused tlie Court and the wealthiest citizens; 
 and few private houses could not boast their fixmily concert, or 
 small party of performers. In the tea-gardens, of which there 
 were many in the suburbs of the city, bearing the euphonious, roman- 
 tic, and fashionable titles of Tivoli, Arcadia, and Vauxhall, a strong 
 and amateur orchestra was never wanting. Strolling through 
 the city on a Sunday afternoon, many a pleasing picture of inno- 
 cent domestic enjoyment might be observed. In the arbour of a 
 garden a very stout man, witli a fair, broad, good-natured, solid 
 German face, may be seen perspiring under the scientific exertion 
 of the French horn ; himself wisely disembarrassed of the needless 
 incumbrance of his pea-green coat and showy waistcoat, which l;ij 
 neatly folded by his side ; while his large and sleepy blue eye. 
 actually gleam with enthusiasm. His daughter, a soft and delicate 
 girl, touches the light guitar; catching the notes of the music 
 from the opened opera, which is placed before the father on a massy 
 rausic-sland. Her voice joins in melody with her mother; who, 
 like all German mothers, seems only her daughter's self, subdued 
 by an additional twenty years. The bow of one violin is handled, 
 with the air of a master, by an elder brother ; while a younger one, 
 an university student, grows sentimental over tlie flute. The same 
 instrument is also played by a tall and tender-looking young man 
 in black, wlio stands behind the parents, next to the daugliter, and 
 occasionally looks oft' his music-book to gaze on his young mis- 
 
VIVIAN ghey. 379 
 
 tress' eyes. He is a clerk in a public office ; and on next Michael- 
 mas day, if he succeed, as he hopes, in gaining- a small addition to 
 his salary, he will be still more entitled to join in the Sunday 
 family concert. Such is one of the numerous groups, the sight of 
 which must, assuredly, give pleasure to every man wlio delights iu 
 seeing his fellow-creatures refreshed after their weekly labours, by 
 such calm and rational enjoyment. We would gladly linger among 
 such scenes ; and, moreover, the humours of a guingette are nob 
 unworthy of our attention : but we must introduce the reader to 
 a more important party. 
 
 The Court chapel and the Court dinner are over. We are in 
 the Opera-house of Reisenburg; and, of course, rise as the Royal 
 party enters. The house, which is of a moderate size — perhaps of 
 the same dimensions as our small theatres — was fitted up with 
 splendour : we hardly know whether we should say with great 
 taste ; for although not merely the scenery, but indeed every part 
 of the house, was painted by eminent artists, the style of the or- 
 naments was rather patriotic than tasteful. The house had been 
 built immediately after the war, at a period when Reisenburg, 
 flushed with the success of its thirty thousand men, imagined itself 
 to be a great military nation. Trophies, standards, cannon, eagles, 
 consequently appeared in every corner of the Opera-house; and 
 quite superseded lyres, and timbrels, and tragic daggers, and comic 
 masks. The royal box was constructed in the form of a tent, and 
 held nearly fifty persons. It was exactly in the centre of the 
 house, its floor over the back of the pit, and its roof reaching 
 to the top of the second circle ; its crimson hangings were re- 
 strained by ropes of gold, and the whole was surmounted by a 
 large and radiant crown. The house was merely lighted by a 
 chandelier from the centre. 
 
 The Opera for the evening was Rossini's Otello. As soon as the 
 Grand-Duke entered, the overture commenced; his Royal High- 
 ness coming forward to the front of the box, and himself direct- 
 ing the musicians ; keeping time earnestly with his right hand, in 
 which was a very long black opera-glass. This he occasionally 
 used, but merely to look at the orchestra ; not, assuredly, to detect 
 a negligent or inefficient performer ; for in the schooled orchestra 
 of Reisenburg, it would have been impossible even for the eagle- 
 eye of his Royal Highness, assisted as it was by his long black 
 opera-glass, or for his fine ear, matured as it was by the most com- 
 plete study, to discover there, either inattention or feebleness. The 
 house was perfectly silent ; for when the Monarch directs the or- 
 chestra, the world goes to the Opera to listen. Perfect silence at 
 Reisenburg, then, was etiquette and the fashion. Between the acts 
 
880 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 of the Opera, however, the Ballet was performed ; and then every- 
 body might talk, and laugh, and remark, as much as they chose. 
 
 The Grand-Duke prided himself as much upon the accuracy of 
 his scenery and dresses and decorations, as upon the exquisite skill 
 of his performers. In truth, an Opera at Reisenburg was a spec- 
 tacle which could not fail to be interesting to a man of taste. 
 When the curtain drew up, the first scene presented a view of old 
 Brabantio's house. It was accurately copied from one of the 
 sumptuous structures of Scamozzi, or Sansovino, or Palladio, 
 which adorn the Grand Canal of Venice. In the distance rose 
 the domes of St. Mark, and the lofty Campanile. Vivian could 
 not fail to be delighted with this beautiful work of art, for such 
 indeed it should be styled. He was more surprised, however, but 
 not less pleased, on the entrance of Othello himself. In England 
 we are accustomed to deck tliis adventurous Moor in the costume 
 of his native country — but is this correct ? The Grand-Duke of 
 lleisenburg thought not. Othello was an adventurer; at an 
 early age he entered, as many foreigners did, into the service of 
 Venice. In that service he rose to the highest dignities — became 
 General of her armies, and of her fleets ; and finally the Viceroy 
 of her favourite kingdom. Is it natural to suppose, that such a 
 man should have retained, during his successful career, the man- 
 ners and dress of his original country ? Ought we not rather to 
 admit, that, liad he done so, his career would, in fact, not have been 
 successful ? In all probability, he imitated to affectation the man- 
 ners of the country which he had adopted. It is not probable that 
 in such, or in any age, the turbaned Moor would have been treated 
 ■with great deference by the common Christian soldier of Venice — 
 or, indeed, that the scandal of a heathen leading the armies 
 of one of the most powerful of European States, would have been 
 tolerated for an instant by indignant Christendom. If Shylock 
 even, the Jew merchant, confined to his quarter, and herding with 
 his own sect, were bearded on the Rialto, — in what spirit would the 
 Venetians have witnessed their doge and nobles, whom they ranked 
 above kings, holding equal converse, and loading with tlie most 
 splendid honours of the Republic, a follower of Mahound? Such 
 were the sentiments of the Grand-Duke of Reisenburg on this 
 subject, a subject interesting to Englishmen ; and I confess I 
 think that they are worthy of attention. In accordance with Iiis 
 opinions, the actor who performed Otliello appeared in the full 
 dress of a Venetian magnitico of the middle ages ; a fit companion 
 for Cornaro, or Grimani, or Barberigo, or Foscari. 
 
 The first act of the Opera was finislied. The Baroness ex- 
 pressed to Vivian her great delight at its being over ; as she was 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 381 
 
 extremely desirous of learning- the story of the ballet, wliich she 
 had not yet been able to acquire. Ilis translation of yesterday had 
 greatly interested her. Vivian shortly gave her the outline of the 
 story of Conrad. She listened with much attention, but made no 
 remark. 
 
 The ballet at Reisenburg was not merely a vehicle for the dis- 
 play of dancing. It professed by gesture and action, aided by 
 music, to influence the minds of the spectators not less than the 
 regular drama. Of this exhibition dancing was a casual orna- 
 ment, as it is of life. It took place therefore only on fitting occa- 
 sions, and grew out, in a natural manner, from some event in the 
 history represented. For instance, suppose the story of Othello, 
 the subject of the ballet. The dancing, in all probability, would 
 be introduced at a grand entertainment given in celebration of 
 the Moor's arrival at Cyprus. All this would be in character. 
 Our feelings would not be outraged by a husband chassezing for- 
 ward to murder his wife — or by seeing the pillow pressed over the 
 innocent Desdemona by the impulse of a pirouette. In most 
 cases, therefore, the chief performers in this species of spectacle 
 are not even dancers. This, however, may not always be the case. 
 If Diana be the heroine, poetical probability will not be offended 
 by the goddess joining in the chaste dance with her huntress 
 nymphs; and were the Baiadere of Goethe made the subject of a 
 ballet, the Indian dancing girl would naturally be the heroine, 
 both of the di-ama and the poem. There are few performances 
 more afiTecting than the serious pantomime of a master. In some 
 of the most interesting situations, it is in fact even more natural 
 than the oral drama — logically, it is more perfect ; for the 
 soliloquy is actually thought before us, and the magic of the 
 representation not destroyed by the sound of the human voice, at a 
 moment when we all know man never speaks. 
 
 The curtain again rises. Sounds of revelry and triumph are 
 heard from the Pirate Isle. They celebrate recent success. 
 Various groups, accurately attired in the costume of the Greek 
 islands, are seated on the rocky foreground. On the left rises 
 Medora's tower, on a craggy steep ; and on the right gleams the 
 blue ^gean. A procession of women enters. It heralds the 
 presence of Conrad and Medora ; they honour the festivity of their 
 rude subjects. The pirates and the women join in the national 
 dance ; and afterwards, eight warriors, completely armed, move in 
 a warlike measure, keeping time to the music with their bucklers. 
 and clattering sabres. Suddenly the dance ceases; a sail is in 
 sight. The nearest pirates rush to the strand, and assist the dis- 
 embarkation of their welcome comrades. The commander of the 
 vessel comes forward with an agitated step, and gloomy counte- 
 
 } 
 
382 VIVIAN GEEY. 
 
 nance. He kneels to Conrad, and delivers liim a scroll, which 
 the chieftain reads with suppressed ag-itation. In a moment the 
 faithful Juan is at his side — the contents of the scroll revealed — ' 
 the dance broken up, and preparations made to sail in an hour's 
 time to the city of tlie Pacha. The stage is cleared, and Conrad 
 and Medora are alone. The mysterious leader is wrapt in the 
 deepest abstraction. He stands with folded arms, and eyes fixed 
 on the yellow sand. A gentle pressure on his arm calls him back 
 to recollection ; he starts, and turns to the intruder with a gloomy 
 brow. He sees Medora — and his frown sinks into a sad smile. 
 *' And must we part again ! this hour — this very hour ; it cannot 
 be ! " She clings to him with agony, and kneels to him with adora- 
 tion. No hope ! no hope ! a quick return promised with an air of 
 foreboding fate. His stern arm encircles her waist. He chases 
 the heavy tear from her fair cheek, and while he bids her be glad 
 in his absence with her handmaids, peals the sad thunder of the 
 signal gnn. She throws herself upon him. The frantic quick- 
 ness of her motion strikingly contrasts with the former stupor of 
 her appearance. She will not' part. Her face is buried in liis 
 breast ; her long fair hair floats over his shoulders. He is almost 
 lumerved ; but at this moment the ship sails on ; the crew and their 
 afflicted wives enter ; the page brings to Lord Conrad his cloak, 
 his carbine, and his bugle. He tears himself from her embrace, 
 and without daring to look behind him, bounds over the rocks, 
 and is in the ship. The vessel moves — the wives of the pirates 
 continue on the beach, waving their scarfs to their desolate hus- 
 bands. In the foreground Medora, motionless, stands rooted to 
 the strand ; and might have inspired Phidias with a personification 
 of despair. 
 
 In a hall of unparalleled splendour, stern Seyd reclines on innu- 
 merable pillows, placed on a carpet of golden cloth. His bearded 
 •chiefs are ranged around. Tlie chambers are brilliantly illumi- 
 nated, and an opening at the ftirther end of the apartments ex- 
 hibits a portion of the shining city, and the glittering galleys. 
 Oulnare, covered Avith a silver veil, which reaches even to lier 
 feet, is ushered into the presence of the Paclia. Even the 
 haughty Seyd rises to honour his beautiful favourite. He draws 
 the precious veil from her blushing features, and places her on his 
 right hand. Tlic dancing girls now appear; and then are intro- 
 duced the principal artists. Now takes place the scientific part 
 of the ballet ; and here might Bias, or Noblet, or Ronzi Vestris, 
 or her graceful husband, or the classical Albert, or the bounding 
 Paul, vault without stint, and attitudinise without restraint; and 
 not in the least impair tlie etfect of tlie tragic tale. The J)ervise, 
 of course, appears ; the galleys, of course, are fired ; and Scvd. of 
 
VIVIAN GUEY. o83' 
 
 course, retreats. A change in the scenery gives us the blazing 
 Harem, the rescue of its inmates, the deliverance of Gulnare, the 
 capture of Conrad. 
 
 It is the prison scene. On a mat, covered with irons, lies the 
 forlorn Conrad. The flitting flame of a solitary lamp hardly 
 reveals the heavy bars of the huge grate that forms the entrance 
 to its cell. For some minutes nothing stirs. The mind of the 
 spectator is allowed to become fully aware of the hopeless misery 
 of the hero. His career is ended — secure is his dungeon — trusty 
 his guards — overpowering his chains. To-morrow he wakes to be 
 impaled. A gentle noise, so gentle that the spectator almost 
 deems it unintentional, is now heard. A white figure appears be- 
 hind the dusky gate ; — is it a guard, or a torturer ? The gate softly 
 opens, and a female comes forward. Gulnare was represented by a 
 girl, with the body of a Peri, and the soul of a poetess. The Harem 
 Queen advances with an agitated step; — she holds in her left 
 hand a lamp, and in the girdle of her light dress is a dagger. 
 She reaches with a soundless step the captive. He is asleep. — Ay ! 
 he sleeps, while thousands are weeping his ravage or his ruin ; 
 and she, in restlessness, is wandering here ! A thousand thoughts 
 are seen coursing over her flushed brow ; she looks to the audience, 
 and her dark eye asks why this Corsair is so dear to her. She 
 turns again, and raises the lamp with her long white arm, that the 
 light may fall on the captive's countenance. She gazes, without 
 moving, on the sleeper — touches the dagger with a s!ow and 
 tremulous hand, and starts from the contact with terror. Shv 
 again touches it ; — it is drawn from her vest — it falls to the ground. 
 He wakes — he stares with wonder ; — he sees a female not less fair 
 than Medora. Confused, she tells him her station ; she tells him 
 that her pity is as certain as his doom. He avows his readiness 
 to die ; he appears undaunted, he thinks of Medora, he buries his 
 
 face in his hand?. She grows pale, as he avows he loves 
 
 another. She cannot conceal her own passion. He, wondering, 
 confesses that he supposed her love was his enemy's — was Seyd's. 
 Gulnare shudders at the name ; she draws herself up to her full 
 stature — she smiles in bitterness : — 
 
 " My love stern Seyd's ! — Oh ! no, no, not my love ! " 
 
 The acting was perfect. The house burst into unusual shouts 
 of admiration. Madame Carolina applauded with her little finger 
 on her fan. The Grand-Duke himself gave the signal for ap- 
 plause. Vivian uever felt before, tliat words were iiseless. His 
 hand was suddenly pressed. He turned round ; — it was the 
 Bai'oncss. She was leaning back in her chair ; and though she 
 
384 VIVJAN GREY. 
 
 did her utmost to conceal her agitated countenance, a tear coursed 
 down her cheek, big as the miserable Medora's ! 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 On the evening of the Opera, arrived at Court part of the suite 
 of the young Archduchess, the betrothed of the Crown Prince of 
 Reisenburg. These consisted of an old grey-headed General, 
 who had taught her Imperial Highness the manual exercise ; and 
 her tutor and confessor, an ancient and toothless Bishop. Their 
 youthful mistress was to follow them in a few days; and this 
 arrival of such a distinguished portion of her suite was the signal 
 for the commencement of a long series of sumptuous festivities. 
 After interchanging a number of compliments, and a few snuff- 
 boxes, the nev/ guests were invited by his Royal Highness to 
 attend a Review, which was to take place the next morning, of 
 five thousand troops, and fifty Generals. 
 
 The Reisenburg army was the best appointed in Europe. 
 Never were men seen with breasts more plumply padded, musta- 
 chios better trained, or such spotless gaiters. The Grand-Duke 
 himself was a military genius, and had invented a new cut for the 
 collars of the Cavalry. His Royal Highness was particularly 
 desirous of astonishing the old grey-headed governor of his future 
 daughter, by the skilful evolutions and imposing appearance of 
 his legions. The affair was to be of the most refined nature ; and 
 the whole was to be concluded by a mock battle, in which tlie 
 spectators were to be treated by a display of the most exquisite 
 evolutions, and complicated movements, which human beings ever 
 yet invented to destroy others, or to escape destruction. Field 
 Marshal Count von Sohnspeer, the Commander-in-chief of all 
 the Forces of his Royal Highness the Grand-Duke of Reisenburg, 
 condescended, at the particular request of his Sovereign, to con- 
 duct the whole affair himself. 
 
 At first it was rather diflScult to distinguish between the army 
 and the staff ; for Darius, in the straits of Issus, was not more 
 sumptuously and numerously attended than Count von Sohnspeer. 
 Wherever he moved, he was followed by a train of waving plumes 
 and radiant epaulettes, and foaming chargers, and shining steel. 
 In fact, he looked like a large military comet. Had tlie fate of 
 Reisenburg depended on the result of the day, the Field Marshal, 
 and his Generals, and Aides-de-camp, and Orderlys, could not have 
 looked more agitated and more in earnest. Von Solnispeer had* 
 not less than four horses in the field, on every one of which he 
 
VIVIAN GREr. 385 
 
 seemed to appeal* in tlie space of five minutes. Now he was dasli- 
 iug' along the line of the Lancers on a black charger, and now 
 round the column of the Cuirassiers on a white one. He exhorted 
 the Tirailleurs on a chestnut, and added fresh courage to the ardour 
 of the Artillery on a bay. 
 
 It was a splendid day. The bands uf the respective regiments 
 played triumphant tunes, as each marched on the field. The gra- 
 dual arrival of the troops was picturesque. Distant music was 
 heard, and a corps of Infantry soon made its appearance. A light 
 bugle sounded, and a body of Tirailleurs issued from the shade of 
 a neighbouring wood. The kettle-drums and clarions heralded 
 the presence of a troop of Cavalry ; and an advanced guard of 
 Light-horse, told that the ArtUlery were about to follow. The arms 
 and stands of the troops shone in the sun ; military music sounded 
 in all parts of the field ; unceasing was the bellow of the martial 
 drum, and the blast of the blood-stirring trumpet. Clouds of 
 dust, ever and anon excited in the distance, denoted the arrival of 
 . a regiment of Cavalry. Even now, one approaches — it is the Red 
 Lancers. How gracefully their Colonel, the young Count of 
 Eberstein, bounds on liis barb! Has Theseus turned Centaur? 
 His spur and bridle seem rather the emblems of sovereignty, than 
 the instruments of government : he neither chastises nor directs. 
 The rider moves without motion, and the horse judges without 
 guidance. It would seem that the man had borrowed the beast's 
 body, and the beast the man's mind. His regiment has formed 
 upon the field, their stout lances erected like a young and leaf- 
 less grove ; but although now in line, it is with difficulty that they 
 can subject the spirit of their warlike steeds. The trumpet has 
 caught the ear of the horses; they stand with open nostrils, already 
 breathing war, ere they can see an enemy ; and now dashing up 
 one leg, and now the other, they seem to complain of Nature, 
 that she has made them of anything earthly. 
 
 The troops have all arrived ; there is an unusual bustle in the 
 field. Von Sohnspeer is again changing his horse, giving direc- 
 tions while he is mounting, to at least a dozen Aides-de-camp. 
 Orderlys are scampering over every part of the field. Another flag, 
 quite new, and of large size, is unfurled by the Field ]Mars]iars 
 pavilion. A signal gun ! the music in the whole field is hushed : 
 a short silence of agitating suspense — another gun — and another! 
 All the bauds of all the regiments burst forth at the same moment 
 into the national air : the Court dash into the field ! 
 
 Madame Carolina, the Baroness, the Countess von S , and 
 
 ^ome other ladies, wore habits of the uniform of the Royal Guards. 
 Both Madame and the Baroness were perfect horsewomen ; and 
 the excited spirits of Mr. Beckendorff's female relative, both 
 
 25 
 
386 VIVIAN GREY, 
 
 during her ride, and her dashing run over the field, amidst the 
 firing of cannon, and the crash of drums and trumpets, very 
 strikingly contrasted with her agitation and depression of the pre- 
 ceding night. 
 
 " Your Excellency loves the tented field, I think ! " said Vivian, 
 who was at her side. 
 
 " I love war ! it is a diversion fit for kings ! " was the answer. 
 "How fine the breast-plates and helmets of those Cuirassiers 
 glisten in the sun!" continued the lady. "Do you see Von 
 Sohnspeer ? I wonder if the Crown Prince be with him ! " 
 
 " I think he is." 
 
 " Indeed! Ah ! can he interest himself in anything ? He seemed 
 Apathy itself at the Opera last night. I never saw him smile, 
 or move, and have scarcely heard his voice ! but if he love war, 
 if he be a soldier, if he be thinking of other things than a panto- 
 mime and a ball, 'tis well ! — very well for his country ! Perhaps 
 he is a hero?" 
 
 At this moment, the Crown Prince, who was of Von Sohnspeer's 
 staflF, slowly rode up to the Royal party. 
 
 " Rudolph ! " said the Grand-Duke ; " do you head your regi- 
 ment to-day?" 
 
 " No," was the muttered answer. 
 
 The Grand-Duke moved his horse to his son, and spoke to him 
 in a low tone ; evidently with earnestness. Apparently he was 
 expostulating with him : but the effect of the royal exhortation 
 was only to render the Prince's brow more gloomy, and the ex- 
 pression of his withered features more sullen and more sad. The 
 Baroness watched the father and son as they were conversing, with 
 keen attention. When the Crown Prince, in violation of his 
 father's wishes, fell into the party, and allowed his regiment to be 
 headed by the Lieutenant-colonel, the young lady raised her lus- 
 trous eyes to heaven, with that same expression of sorrow or re- 
 signation which had so much interested Vivian on the morning 
 that he had translated to her the moving passage in the Corsair. 
 
 But the field is nearly cleared, and the mimic war has com- 
 menced. On the right appears a large body of Cavalry, consisting 
 of Cuirassiers and Dragoons. A van-guard of Light Cavalry and 
 Lancers, under the command of the Count of Eberstein, is ordered 
 out, from this body, to harass the enemy — a strong body of Infantry 
 supposed to be advancing. Several squadrons of Light Horse im- 
 mediately spring forward: they form themselves into line, they 
 wheel into column, and endeavour, by well directed manoeuvres, to 
 out-flank the strong wing of the advancing enemy. After suc- 
 eeding in executing all that was committed to them, and after 
 iiaving skirmished in the van of their own armv, so as to give time 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 3S7 
 
 for all necessary dispositions of the line of battle, the van-guarcl 
 suddenly retreats between the brigades of the Cavalry of the line ; 
 the prepared battery of camion is unmasked ; and a tremendous 
 concentric fire opened on the line of the advancing foe. Taking* 
 advantage of the confusion created by this unexpected salute of 
 his artillery, Von Sohnspeer, who commands the Cavalry, gives 
 the word to " Charge ! " 
 
 The whole body of Cavalry immediately charge in masses — the 
 extended line of the enemy is as immediately broken. But the 
 Infantry, who are commanded by one of the royal relatives and 
 visitors, the Prince of Pike and Powdren, dexterously form into 
 squares, and commence a masterly retreat in square battalions. 
 At length, they take up a more favourable position than the former 
 one. They are again galled by the Artillery, who have pro- 
 portionately advanced, and again charged by the Cavalry in their 
 huge masses. And now the squares of Infantry partially give way. 
 They admit the Cavalry, but the exulting Horse find to their dis- 
 may, that the enemy ai'e not routed, but that there are yet inner 
 squares formed at salient angles. The Cavalry for a moment re- 
 tire, but it is only to give opportunity to their Artillery to rake the 
 obstinate foes. The execution of the battery is fearful. Headed 
 by their Commander, the whole body of Cuirassiers and Dragoons 
 again charge with renewed energy and concentrated force. The 
 Infantry are thrown into the greatest confusion, and commence a 
 rout, increased and rendered irremediable by the Lancers and Hus- 
 sars, the former van-guard ; who now, seizing on the favourable 
 moment, again rush forward, increasing the effect of the charge of 
 the whole army, overtaking the fugitives with their lances, and 
 securing the prisoners. 
 
 The victorious Von Sohnspeer, followed by his stafi", now galloped 
 up to receive the congratulations of his Sovereign. 
 
 " Where are your prisoners. Field Marshal ? " asked His Royal 
 Highness, with a flattering smile. 
 
 " What is the ransom of our unfortunate guest ? " asked 
 Madame Carolina. 
 
 " I hope we shall have another affair," said the Baroness, with a 
 flushed face and glowing eyes. 
 
 But the Commander-in-chief must not tarry to bandy compli- 
 ments. He is again wanted in the field. The whole troops have 
 ^ormed in line. Some most scientific evolutions are now executed. 
 With them we will not weary the reader, nor dilate on tlie com- 
 parative advantages of forming en cremailliere and en cchiquier; 
 nor upon the duties of Tirailleurs, nor upon concentric fires and 
 eccentric movements, nor upon deploying, nor upon enfilading, nor 
 upon oblique fi-onts, nor upon ochellons. The day finisLed by the 
 
388 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 whole of the troops again forming in line, and passing in order be 
 fore the Commander-in-chief, to give him an opportunity of ob- 
 serving their discipline and inspecting their equipments. 
 
 The Review being finished, Count von Sohnspeer and his staff 
 joined the royal party ; and after walking their horses round the 
 field, they proceeded to his pavilion, where refreshments were pre- 
 pared for them. The Field Marshal, flattered by the interest 
 which the young Baroness had taken in the business of the day, 
 and the acquaintance v/hicli she evidently possessed of the more 
 obvious details of military tactics, was inclined to be particularly 
 courteous to her, but the object of his admiration did not encourage 
 attentions by which half the ladies of the Court would have 
 thought themselves as highly honoured as by those of the Grand- 
 Duke himself ; — so powerful a person was the Field Marshal, and 
 so little inclined by temper to cultivate the graces of the fair sex ! 
 
 " In the tent keep by my side," said the Baroness to Vivian. 
 " Although I am fond of heroes, Von Sohnspeer is not to my taste. 
 I know not why I flatter you so by my notice, for I suppose, like all 
 Englishmen, you are not a soldier ? I thought so. — Never mind ! 
 you ride well enough for a Field Marshal. I really think I could 
 give you a commission without much stickling of my conscience. — 
 No no! I should like you nearer me. I have a good mind to 
 make you my Master of the Horse, — that is to say, when I am en- 
 titled to have one." 
 
 As Vivian acknowledged the young Baroness' compliment by 
 becoming emotion, and vowed that an ofl&ce near her person would 
 be the consummation of all his wishes, his eye caught the lady's : 
 she blushed deeply, looked down upon her horse's neck, and then 
 turned away her head. 
 
 Von Sohnspeer's pavilion excellently became the successful 
 leader of the army of Reisenburg. Trophies taken from all sides 
 decked its interior. The black eagle of Austria formed part of its 
 roof, and the brazen eagle of Gaul supported part of the side. 
 The grey-headed General looked rather grim when he sliw a flag 
 belonging to a troop which perhaps he had himself once com- 
 manded. He vented his indignation to the toothless Bishop, who 
 crossed his breast with his lingers, covered with diamonds, and 
 preached temperance and moderation in inarticulate sounds. 
 
 During the collation, the conversation was principally military, 
 Madame Carolina, who was entirely ignorant of the subject of dis- 
 course, enchanted all the officers present by appearing to be the 
 most interested person in the tent. Nothing could exceed the 
 elegance of her euloginm of ' petit guerre.' The old grey General 
 talked much about the ' good old times,' by which he meu.nt the 
 thirty years of plunder, bloodshed, and destruction, which were 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 389 
 
 occasioned by the French Revolutiou. He gloated on the recol- 
 lections of hon'or, which lie feared would never occur again. 
 The Archduke Charles and Prince Schwartzsnhurg were the gods 
 of his idolatry ; and Nadasti's hussars and Wurmser's dragoons 
 the inferior divinities of his bloody heaven. One evolution (if the 
 morning-, a discovery made by Von Sohnspeer himself, in the de- 
 ploying of cavalry, created a great sensation ; and it was settled 
 that it would have been of great use to Dessaix and Clairfayt in 
 the Netherlands affair of some eight-and-twenty years ago ; and 
 was not equalled even by Seidlitz' cavalry in the affair witli the 
 Russians at Zorndorff. In short, every 'affiiir' of any clianicter 
 during the late war was fought over again in the tent of Field 
 Marshal von Sohnspecr. At length from the Archduke Charles 
 and Prince Schwartzenhurg, the old grey-headed General got to 
 Polybius and Monsieur Folard ; and the Grand-Duke now thinking 
 that the ' affair' was taking too serious a turn, broke up the party. 
 Madame Carolina and most of the ladies used their carriages on 
 their return. They were nearly fifteen miles from the city ; but 
 the Baroness, in spite of the most earnest solicitations, would re- 
 mount her charger. 
 
 They cantered home — the Baroness in unusual spirits — Vivian 
 thinking very much of his fair companion. Her character puzzled 
 him. That she was not the lovely simpleton that Madame Carolina 
 believed her to be, he had little doubt. Some people have great 
 knowledge of society, and very little of mankind. !Madame Caro- 
 lina was one of these. She viewed her species through only one 
 medium. That the Baroness was a woman of acute feeling, 
 Vivian could not doubt. Her conduct at the Opera, which had 
 escaped every one's attention, made this evident. That she had 
 seen more of the world tlian her previous conversation had given 
 him to believe, was equally clear by her conduct and conversation 
 this morning. He determined to become more acquainted with her 
 character. Her evident partiality to his company would not ren- 
 der the execution of his purpose very difficult. At any rate, if he 
 discovered nothing, it was something to do: it would at least 
 amuse him. 
 
 In the evening he joined a large party at the palace. He looked 
 immediately for the Baroness. She was surrouuded by the dandies. 
 Their attentions she treated with contempt, and ridiculed theu* 
 compliments without mercy. Without obtruding himself on her 
 notice, Vivian joined her circle, and witnessed her demolition of 
 the young Count of Eberstein with great amusement. Emilius 
 von Asliiigen was not there; for having made the interesting 
 savage the fashion, she was no longer worthy of his attention, and 
 consequently deserted. The young lady soon observed Vivian; 
 
890 VIVIAN GKET. 
 
 and saying-, without the least embarrassment, that she was delighted 
 to see him, she begged him to share her chaise-longue. Her 
 envious levee witnessed the preference with dismay; and as the 
 object of their attention did not now notice their remarks, even by 
 her expressed contempt, one by one fell away. Vivian and the 
 Baroness were left alone, and conversed much together. The lady 
 displayed, on every subject, engaging ignorance; and requested 
 information on obvious topics with artless naivete. Vivian was 
 convinced that her ignorance was not aifected, and equally sui'e 
 that it could not arise from imbecility of intellect ; for while she 
 surprised him by her crude questions, and her Avant of acquaintance 
 with all those topics which generally form the staple of conversa- 
 tion, she equally amused him with her poignant wit, and the im- 
 perious and energetic manner in which she instantly expected satis- 
 factory information on every possible subject. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 On the day after the review, a fancy-dress ball was to be given 
 at Court. It was to be an entertainment of a peculiar nature. 
 The lively genius of Madame Carolina, wearied of the common- 
 place eftect generally produced by this species of amusement — in 
 which usually a stray Turk, and a wandering Pole, looked sedate 
 and singular among crowds of Spanish girls, Swiss peasants, and 
 gentlemen in uniforms — had invented something novel. Her idea 
 was ingenious. To use her own sublime phrase, she determined 
 that the party should represent " an age ! " Great difficulty was 
 experienced in fixing upon the century which was to be honoured. 
 At first a poetical idea was started of having something primeval — 
 perhaps antediluvian — but Noah, or even Father Abraham, were 
 thought characters hardly sufficiently romantic for a fancy-dress 
 ball; and consequently the earliest postdiluvian ages Avere soon 
 under consideration. Nimrod, or Sardanapalus, were distinguished 
 personages, and might be well represented by the Master of the 
 Staghounds, or the Master of the Revels ; but then the want of an 
 interesting lady-character was a great objection. Semiramis, 
 though not without style in her own way, Avas not sufficiently 
 Parisian for Madame Carolina. New ages Avere proposed, and 
 new objections started; and so tlie 'Committee of Selection,' 
 
 which consisted of Madame herself, the Countess A'on S , and a 
 
 few other dames of fashion, gradually slided through the four great 
 empires. Athens was not aristocratic enough, and then the women 
 were nothing. In spite of her admiration of the character of 
 Aspa<da, Madame Carolina somewhat doubted the possibility of per- 
 
VIVIAN GRET. 391 
 
 suading the ladies of the Court of Reisenburg to appear in the 
 characters of iraipat. Rome presented great capabilities, and 
 greater difficulties. Finding themselves, after many days' sitting 
 and study, still very far from coming' to a decision, Madame called 
 in the aid of the Grand-Duke, who proposed 'something national.' 
 The proposition was plausible ; but, according to Madame Carolina, 
 Germany, until her own time, had been only a land of barbarism 
 and barbarians; and therefore, in such a country, in a national 
 point of view, what could there be interesting ? The middle ages, 
 as they are usually styled, in spite of the Emperor Charlemagne — 
 ' that oasis in the desert of barbarism' — to use her own eloquent 
 and original image — were her particular aversion. " The age of 
 chivalry is past!" was as constant an exclamation of IMadame Ca- 
 rolina, as it was of Mr. Burke. " The age of chivalry is past — 
 and very fortunate that it is. What resources could they have had 
 in the age of chivalry? an age without either moral or experi- 
 mental philosophy ; an age in which they were equally ignorant of 
 the doctrine of association of ideas, and of the doctrine of electri- 
 city ; and when they were as devoid of a knowledge of the incal- 
 culable powers of the human mind, as of the incalculable powers of 
 steam ! " Had Madame Carolina been the consort of an Italian 
 Grand-Duke, selection would not be difficult ; and, to inquire no 
 farther, the Court of the Medici alone would afford them every- 
 thing they wanted. But Germany never had any character, and 
 never produced nor had been the resort of illustrious men and 
 interesting persons. What was to be done ? The age of Frede- 
 rick the Great was the only thing ; and then that was so recent ; 
 and would offend the Austriaus ; it could not be thought of. 
 
 At last, when the ' Committee of Selection' was almost in de- 
 .spair, some one proposed a period which not only would be 
 German — not only would compliment the House of Austria, — 
 but, what was of still greater importance, would allow of every 
 contemporary character of interest of every nation — the age of 
 Charles the Fifth ! The suggestion was received with enthusiasm, 
 and adopted on the spot. ' The Committee of Selection' was im- 
 mediately dissolved, and its members as immediately formed them- 
 selves into a ' Committee of Arrangement.' Lists of all the per- 
 sons of any fame, distinction, or notoriety, who had lived either 
 in the Empire of Germany, the Kingdoms of Spain, Portugal 
 France, or England, the Italian States, the Netherlands, the Ame- 
 ricans, and, in short, in every country in the known world, were 
 immediately formed. Von Chronicle, rewarded for his last his- 
 torical novel by a ribbon and the title of Baron, was appointed 
 Secretary to the ' Committee of Costume.' All guests who re- 
 ceived a card of invitation, were desired, on or before a certain 
 
392 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 day, to send in the title of their adopted character, and a sketch of 
 their intended dress, that their plans might receive the sanction of 
 the ladies of the ' Committee of Arrangement,' and their dresses 
 the approbation of the secretary of Costume. By this method, the 
 chance and inconvenience of two persons selecting and appearing 
 in the same character were destroyed and prevented. After ex- 
 citing the usual jealousies, intrigues, dissatisfaction, and ill-hlood, 
 by the influence and imperturbable temper of Madame Carolina, 
 everything was arranged — Emilius von Aslingen being the only 
 person wiio set both the Committees of Arrangement and Costume 
 at defiance ; and treated the repeated applications of their re- 
 spected secretary, with contemptuous silence. The indignant 
 Baron von Chronicle entreated the strong interference of the 
 * Committee of Arrangement ;' but Emilius von Aslingen was too 
 powerful an individual to be treated by others as he treated them. 
 Had the fancy-dress ball of the Sovereign been attended by all his 
 subjects, with the exception of this Captain in his Guards, the 
 whole aiFivir might have been a failure ; would have been dark, in 
 spite of the glare of ten thousand lamps, and the glories of all the 
 jewels of his State ; would have been dull, although each guest 
 "were wittier than Pasquin himself; and very vulgar, although at- 
 tended by lords of as many quarterings as the ancient shield of his 
 own antediluvian house ! All, therefore, that the ladies of the 
 ' Committee of Arrangement' could do, was to enclose to the re- 
 bellious Von Aslingen a list of the expected characters, and a re- 
 solution passed in consequence of his contumacy ; that no person, 
 or persons, was, or were, to appear as either or any of these cha- 
 racters, unless he, or they, could produce a ticket, or tickets, granted 
 by a member of the ' Committee of Arrangement,' and counter- 
 signed by the secretary of the ' Committee of Costume.' At the 
 same time that these vigorous measures were resolved on, no 
 persons spoke of Emilius von Aslingen's rebellious conduct in 
 terms of greater admiration than the ladies of the Committee 
 themselves. If possible, he, in consequence, became even a more 
 influential and popular personage than before ; and his conduct 
 procured him almost the adoration of persons who, had they dared 
 to imitate him, would have been instantly crushed; and would 
 have been banislied society principally by tlic exertions of the very 
 individual whom they had the presumption to mimic. 
 
 In the gardens of the palace was a spacious amphitheatre, cut 
 out in green seats, for the spectators of tlic plays whicli, during the 
 summer months, were sometimes performed there by the Court. 
 There was a stage in the same taste, with rows of trees for side- 
 scenes, and a great number of arbours and summer-rooms, sur- 
 »"ouuded by lofty hedges of laurel, for the actors to retire and 
 
VIVIAN GREV. 393 
 
 dress in. Connected with this ' rural Theatre,' for such was its 
 title, were many labyrinths and groves, and arched walks, in the 
 same style. More than twelve large fountains were in the imme- 
 diate vicinity of this theatre. At the end of one walk a sea-horse 
 spouted its element through its nostrils ; and in another, Neptune 
 turned an Ocean out of a vase. Seated ou a rock, Arcadia's 
 half-goat god, the deity of silly sheep and silly poets, sent forth 
 trickling streams through his rustic pipes ; and in the centre of 
 a green grove, an enamoured Salraacis, bathing in a pellucid 
 basin, seemed watching for her Hermaphrodite. 
 
 It was in this rural Theatre, and its tanciful confines, that 
 ^ladame Carolina and her councillors resolved that their magic 
 should, for a night, not only stop the eourse of time, but recall 
 past centuries. It was certainly rather late in the year for choos- 
 ing such a spot for the scene of their enchantment; but the season, 
 as we have often had occasion to remark in the course of these 
 volumes, w^s singularly fine; and indeed at this moment the 
 nights were as warm, and as clear from mist and dew, as they 
 are during an Italian midsummer. 
 
 But it is eight o'clock — we are alre-idy rather late. Is that a 
 figure by Holbein, just started out of the canvas, that I am 
 about to meet ? Stand aside ! It is a page of the Emperor Charles 
 the Fifth! The Court is on its way to the theatre. The theatre 
 and the gardens are brilliantly illuminated. The effect of the 
 thousands of coloured lamps, in all parts of the foliage, is very 
 beautiful. The moon is up, and a million stars ! If it be not quite 
 as light as day, it is just light enough for pleasure. You could 
 not perhaps endorse a bill of exchange, or engross a parchment, 
 by this light ; but then it is just the light to read a love-letter by, 
 and do a thousand other things besides. 
 
 All hail to the Emperor! we would give his costume, were it not 
 rather too much in the style of the Von Chronicles. Reader ! you 
 have seen a portrait of Charles by Holbein : very well — what need 
 is there of a description ? No lack was there in this gay scene of 
 massy chains and curious collars, nor of cloth of gold, nor of cloth 
 of silver! No lack was there of trembling plumes, and costly 
 hose ! No lack was there of crimson velvet, and russet velvet, and 
 tawny velvet, and purple velvet, and plunket velvet, and of scarlet 
 cloth, and green taffeta, and cloth of silk embroidered ! No lack 
 was there of garments of estate, and of quaint chcmews, nor of 
 short crimson cloaks, covered with pearls and precious stones. 
 No lack was there of party-coloured splendour, of purple velvet 
 embroidered with white, and white satin dresses embroidered with 
 black. No lack was there of splendid koyfes of damask, or kerchiefs 
 of fine Cyprus ; nor of points of Venice silver of ducat fineness, 
 
394 VIVIAX GREY. 
 
 nor of garlands of friars' knots, nor of coloured satins, nor of 
 bleeding' hearts embroidered on the bravery of dolorous lovers, 
 uor of quaint sentences of wailing gallantry. But for the details, 
 are they not to be found in those much-neglected and much-plun- 
 dered persons, the old chroniclers ? and will they not sufficiently 
 appear in the most inventive portion of the next great historical 
 novel ? 
 
 The Grand-Duke looked the Emperor. Our friend the Grand 
 Marshal was Francis the First ; and Arnelm, and Von Neuwied, 
 figured as the Marshal of Montmorency, and the Marshal Lau- 
 trec. The old toothless Bishop did justice to Clement the Seventh ; 
 and his companion, the ancient General, looked grim as Pompeo 
 Colonna. A prince of the House of Nassau, one of the royal 
 visitors, represented his adventurous ancestor the Prince of 
 Orange. Von Sohnspeer was that haughty and accomplished 
 rebel, the Constable of Bourbon. The young Baron Gerusbach 
 was worthy of the Seraglio, as he stalked along as Solyman 
 the Magnificent, with all the family jewels belonging to his 
 dowager mother, shining in his superb turban. Our friend the 
 Count of Eberstein personified chivalry, in the person of Bayard. 
 The younger BernstorflT, the intimate friend of Gernsbach, at- 
 tended his sumptuous sovereign as that Turkish Paul Jones, 
 Barbarossa. An Italian Prince was Andrew Doria. The Grand 
 Chamberlain, our francise acquaintance, and who aflected a love of 
 literature, was the Protestant Elector of Saxony. His train con- 
 sisted of the principal litterateurs of Reisenburg ; the Editor of 
 the " Attack-all-Review," who originally had been a Catholic, but 
 who had been skilfully converted some years ago, wlien he 
 thought Catholicism was on the decline, was Martin Luther, — 
 an individual Avhom, both in his apostasy and fierceness, he much 
 p.nd only resembled : on the contrary, the Editor of the " Praise- 
 all-Review," appeared as the mild and meek Melancthon. ]\Ir. 
 Sievers, not yet at Vienna, was Erasmus. Ariosto, Guicciardini, 
 Ronsard, Rabelais, Machiavel, Pietro Aretino, Garcilasso de la 
 Vega, Sannazaro, and Paracelsus, afi'orded names to many name- 
 less critics. Two Generals, brothers, appeared as Cortes and 
 PizaiTO. The noble Dii-ector of the Gallery Wius Albert Durer ; 
 and his deputy, Hans Holbein. The Court painter, a wretched 
 mimic of the modern French school, did justice to the character 
 of Corregio ; and an indiiferent sculptor looked sublime as Michel 
 Angelo. 
 
 Von Chronicle had persuaded the Prince of Pike and Powdren, 
 one of his warmest admirers, to appear as Henry the Eighth of 
 England. His Higliness w^as one of those true north German 
 patriots who think their own country a very garden of Eden, and 
 
TIVIAX GREY. 395 
 
 verily believe that original siu is to be finally put an end to, in a large 
 sandy plain between Berlin and Hanover. The Prince of Pike 
 and Fowdren passed his whole life in patriotically sighing for the 
 concentration of all Germany into one great nation, and in secretly 
 trusting- that if ever the consummation took place, the North 
 would be rewarded for their condescending union, by a monopoly 
 of all the privileges of the empire. Such a character was of 
 course extremely desirous of figuring to-night in a style pecu- 
 liarly national. The persuasions of Von Chronicle, however, pre- 
 vailed, and induced his Hig-hness of Pike and Powdren to dismiss 
 his idea of appearing as the ancient Arminius ; although it was 
 with great regret that the Prince gave up his plan of personating 
 his favourite hero, with hair down to his m,iddle and skins up to his 
 chin. Nothing would content Von Chronicle, but that his kind 
 patron should represent a crowned head : anything else was be- 
 neath him. The patriotism of the Prince disappeared before the 
 flattery of the novelist, like the bloom of a plum before the breath 
 of a boy, when he polishes the powdered fruit ere he devours it. 
 No sooner had his Highness agreed to be changed into bluff Harry, 
 than the secret purpose of his adviser was immediately detected. 
 No Court confessor, seduced by the vision of a red hat, ever be- 
 trayed the secrets of his sovereign with greater fervour, than did 
 Von Chronicle labour for the Cardinal's costume, which was the 
 consequence of the Prince of Pike and Powdren undertaking the 
 English monarch. To-night, proud as was the part of the Prince 
 as regal Harry, his strut was a shamble compared with the impe- 
 rious stalk of Von Chronicle as the arrogant and ambitious Wolsey. 
 The Cardinal in Rienzi was nothing to him ; for to-night Wolsey 
 had as many pages as the other had petticoats ! 
 
 But, most ungallant of scribblers ! Place aux dames ! Surely 
 Madame Carolina, as the beautiful and accomplished Margaret of 
 Navarre, might well command, even without a mandate, your 
 homage and your admiration ! The lovely Queen seemed the 
 very Goddess of smiles and repartee; young Max, as her page, 
 carried at her side a painted volume of her own poetry. The ai-m 
 of the ftivourite sister of Francis, who it will be remembered once 
 fascinated even the Emperor, was Hnked in that of Csesar's 
 natural daughter — her beautiful namesake, the bright-eyed Mar- 
 garet of Austria. Conversing with these royal dames, and in- 
 deed apparently in attendance upon them, was a young gallant of 
 courtly bearing, and attired in a fantastic dress. It is Clement 
 Marot, " the Poet of Princes, and the Prince of Poets," as he was 
 styled by his own admiring age ; he offers to the critical inspection 
 of the nimble-witted Navarre a few lines in celebration of her 
 beauty, and the night's festivity; one of those short Marotiijue 
 
396 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 poems once so celebrated — perhaps a page culled from those gay 
 and airy psalms, which, with characteristic gallantry, he dedicated 
 " to the Dames of France ! " Observe well the fashionable bard ! 
 Marot was a true poet, and in his day not merely read by queens, 
 and honoured by courtiers; observe him, well ; for the character 
 is supported by our Vivian Grey. It was with great difficidty 
 that Madame Ciirolina had found a character for her favourite, 
 for the lists were all filled before his arrival at Reisenburg. She 
 at first wished him to appear as some celebrated Englishman of 
 the time, but no character of sufficient importance could be dis- 
 covered. All our countrymen in contact or connection with the 
 Emperor Charles were churchmen and civilians ; and Sir Nicholas 
 Carew and the other fops of the reign of Henry the Eighth, who. 
 after the visit to Paris, were even more ridiculously francise than 
 the Grand Chamberlain of Reisenburg himself, were not, after 
 mature deliberation, considered entitled to the honour of being 
 ranked in Madame Carolina's age of Charles the Fifth. 
 
 But who is this, surrounded by her ladies and her chamberlains and 
 her secretaries ? Four pages in dresses of cloth of gold, and each 
 the son of a prince of the French blood, support her train ; a 
 crown encircles locks, grey, as much from thought as from time ; 
 but which require no show of loyalty to prove that they belong to 
 a mother of princes ; — that ample forehead, aquiline nose, and the 
 keen glance of her piercing eye, denote the Queen, as much as the 
 regality of her gait and her numerous and splendid train. The 
 young Queen of Navarre hastens to proflTer her duty to the mother 
 of Francis, the celebrated Louise of Savoy ; and exquisitely did the 
 
 young and lovely Countess of S personate the most celebrated 
 
 of female diplomatists. 
 
 We have forgotten one character ; the repeated commands of hi.^ 
 father and the constant entreaties of Madame Carolina, had at 
 length prevailed upon the Crown Prince to shufHe himself into a 
 fancy dress. No sooner had he gratified them by his hard-wrung 
 consent, than Baron von Chronicle called upon him with draAvings 
 of the costmne of the Prince of Asturias, afterwards Philip the 
 Second of Spain. If we for a moment forgot so important a 
 personage as the future Grand-Duke, it must have been because 
 he su])ported his character so ably, that no one for an instant 
 believed that it was an assumed one ; — standing near the side 
 scenes of the amphitheatre, with his gloomy brow, sad eye, i)ro- 
 truding under li]), and arms hanging straight by his sides — lie 
 looked a bigot witliout liope, and a tyrant without purpose. 
 
 The first hour is over, and the guests are all assembled. As 
 yet, they content themselves with promenading round the amphi- 
 theatre; for before they can think of dance or stroll, each of 
 
VIVIAN GKET. 397 
 
 tliem must bo duly jicquainted with tlie other's dress. It was a 
 most splendid scene. The Queen of Navarre has now been pre- 
 .sented to the Emperor ; aud leaning on his arm, they head the 
 promenade. The Emperor had given the hand of Margret of 
 Austria to his legitimate son ; but the Crown Prince, though he 
 continued in silence by the side of the young Baroness, soon 
 resigned a hand which did not struggle to retain his. Clement 
 Marot was about to fall back into a less conspicuous part of the 
 procession ; but the Grand-Duke, witnessing the regret of his 
 loved Consort, condescendingly said, " We cannot afi'ord to lose 
 our poet;" and so Vivian found himself Avalking behind Madame 
 Carolina, and on the left side of the young Baroness. Louise of 
 Savoy followed with her son, the King of France ; most of the ladies 
 of the Court, and a crowd of oflicers, among them Montmorency aud 
 De Lautrec, after their Majesties. The King of England moves 
 by ; his state unnoticed in the superior magnificence of Wolsey. 
 Pompeo Colonna apologises to Pope Clement for having besieged 
 his holiness in the Castle of St. Angelo. The Elector of Saxony 
 and the Prince of Orange follow. Solyraan the Magnificent is 
 attended by his Admiral ; and Bayard's pure spirit almost quivers 
 at the whispered treason of the Constable of Bourbon. Luther 
 and Melancthou, Erasmus and Rabelais, Cortez aud Pizarro, Cor- 
 regio and Michel Angelo, and a long train of dames aud dons of 
 all nations, succeed ; — so long that the amphitheatre cannot hold 
 them ; — and the procession, that all may walk over the stage, 
 makes a short progress through an adjoining summer-room. 
 
 Just as the Emperor and the fair Queen are in the middle of 
 lie stage, a wounded warrior with a face pale as an eclipsed 
 moon ; a helmet, on which is painted the sign of his sacred order ; 
 a black mantle thrown over his left shoulder, but not concealing 
 his armour ; a sword in his right hand, and an outstretched 
 crucifix in his left ; — rushes on the scene. The procession sud- 
 denly halts — all recognise Emilius von Aslingen! and Madame 
 Carolina blushes through her rouge, when she perceives that 
 so celebrated, " so interesting a character" as Ignatius Loyola, the 
 Founder of the Jesuits, has not been included in the all-compre- 
 hensive lists of her committee. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Henry of England led the Polonaise with Louise of Savoy ; 
 Margaret of Austria would not join in it : waltzing quickly fol- 
 lowed. The Emperor seldom left the side of the Queen of 
 Navarre, and often conversed with her Majesty's poet. The Prince 
 
398 VIVIAX GREY. 
 
 of Asturias hovered for a moment round liis fatlier's daughter, as 
 if he were summoning resolution to ask her to waltz. Once in- 
 deed, he opened his mouth — could it have been to speak ? But tlie 
 young Margaret gave no encouragement to this imusual exertion ; 
 and Philip of Asturias, looking, if ^wssible, more sad and sombre 
 than before, skulked away. The Crown Prince left the gardens, 
 and now a smile lit up every face, except that of the young Baro- 
 ness. The gracious Grand-Duke, unwilling to see a gloomy 
 countenance anywhere to-night, turned to Vivian, who was speak- 
 ing to Madame Carolina, and said, " Gentle poet, would that thou 
 hadst some chanscn or courtly compliment, to chase the cloud which 
 hovers on the brow of our much-loved daughter of Austria ! Your 
 popularity, sir," continued the Grand-Duke, dropping his mock 
 heroic vein, and speaking in a much lower tone ; " your popularity, 
 sir, among the ladies of the Court, cannot be increased by any 
 panegyric of mine ; nor am I insensible, believe me, to the assi- 
 duity and skill with which you have complied with my wishes, in 
 making our Court agreeable to the relative of a man, to Avhom we 
 owe so much as Mr. Beckendorff. I am informed, Mr. Grey," 
 continued his Royal Highness, " that you have no intention of 
 very speedily returning to your country ; I wish that I could count 
 you among my peculiar attendants. If you have an objection to 
 live in the palace, without performing your quota of duty to the 
 State, we shall have no difficulty in finding you an office, and cloth- 
 ing you in our official costume. Think of this ! " So saying, with 
 a gracious smile, his Royal Highness, leading Madame Carolina, 
 commenced a walk round the gardens. 
 
 The young Baroness did not follow them. Solyman the Mag- 
 nificent, and Bayard the irreproachable, and Barbarossa the pirate, 
 and Bourbon the rebel, immediately surrounded her. Few per- 
 sons were higher ton than the Turkish Emperor and his Admiral — 
 few persons talked more agreeable nonsense than the Knight, sans 
 peur et sans reproche — no person was more important than the 
 warlike Constable ; but their attention, their amusement, and their 
 homage, were to-night thrown away on the object of their ob- 
 servance. The Baroness listened to them without interest, and 
 answered them with brevity. She did not even condescend, as she 
 had done before, to enter into a war of words, to mortify their 
 vanity or exercise their wit. She treated them neither with con- 
 tempt nor courtesy. If no smile welcomed tlieir remarks, at least 
 her silence was not scornful, and the most shallow-headed ])ratcr 
 that fluttered around her, felt that he was received with dignity 
 and not with disdain. Awed by her conduct, not one of them dared 
 to be flippant, and every one of them soon became dull. The 
 ornaments of the Court of Reisenburg, the arbiters of ton and 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 399 
 
 the lords of taste, stared with astonishment at each other, wlien 
 they found, to their mutual surprise, that at one moment, in such 
 a select party, universal silence pervaded. In this state of affairs, 
 every one felt that his dignity required his speedy disappearance 
 from the lady's presence. The Orientals, taking advantage of 
 Bourbon's returning once more to the charge, with an often unan- 
 swered remark, coolly walked away ; the Chevalier made an adroit 
 and honourable retreat, by joining a passing party; and the Con- 
 stable was the only one, who, being left in solitude and silence, was 
 finally obliged to make a formal bow, and retire discomfited, from 
 the side of the only woman with whom he had ever condescended 
 to fall in love. Leaning against the trunk of a tree at some little 
 distance, Vivian Grey watched the formation and dissolution of the 
 young Baroness' levee, Avith lively interest. His eyes met the 
 lady's, as she raised them from the ground, on Von Sohnspeer quit- 
 ting her. She immediately beckoned to Vivian, but without her 
 usual smile. He was directly at her side, but slie did not speak. 
 At last he said, " This is a most brilliant scene ! " 
 
 " You think so — do you ? " answered the lady, in a tone and 
 manner which almost made Vivian believe, for a moment, that his 
 friend ]\Ir. Beckeudorff was at his side. 
 
 " Decidedly his daughter ! " thought he. 
 
 " You are not gay to-night ? " said Vivian. 
 
 " Why should I be ? " said the lady, in a manner which would 
 have made Vivian imagine that his presence was as disagreeable 
 to her as that of Coimt von Sohnspeer, had not the lady herself 
 invited his company. 
 
 " I suppose the scene is very brilliant," continued the Baroness, 
 after a few moments' silence. " At least aU here seem to think so, 
 — except two persons." 
 
 " And who are they ?" asked Vivian. 
 
 " iNIyself, and the Crown Prince. I am almost sorry that I 
 
 did not dance with him. There seems a wonderful similarity in 
 our dispositions." 
 
 " You are pleased to be severe to-night." 
 
 " And who shall complain when the first person that I satirize 
 is myself?" 
 
 " It is most considerate in you," said Vivian, '•' to undertake 
 such an office ; for it is one which you, yourself, are alone capable 
 of fulfilling. The only person that can ever satirize your Excel- 
 lency is yourself; and I think even then, that in spile of your 
 candour, your self-examination must please us with a self-pane- 
 gyric." 
 
 "Nay, a truce to compliments: at least, let me hear better 
 things from you. I cannot any longer endure the glare of these 
 
400 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 lamps and dresses ; your arm ! Let us walk for a few minutes in 
 the more retired and cooler parts of the gardens." 
 
 The Baroness and Vivian left the amphitheatre, by a different 
 path to that by which the Grand-Duke and Madame Carolina had 
 quitted it. They found the walks quite solitary ; for the royal 
 party, which was very small, contained the only persons who had 
 yefc left the stage. 
 
 Vivian and his companion strolled about for some time, con- 
 versing on subjects of casual interest. The Baroness, though no 
 longer absent, either in her manner or her conversation, seemed 
 depressed ; and Vivian, while he flattered himself that he was 
 more entertaining than usual, felt, to his mortification, that the 
 lady was not entertained. 
 
 " I am afraid you find it very dull here," said he ; '• shall we 
 return ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ; do not let us return ! We have so short a time to be 
 together, that we must not allow even one hour to be dull." 
 
 As Vivian was about to reply, he heard the joyous voice of 
 young Maximilian; it sounded very near; the royal party was 
 approaching. The Baroness expressed her earnest desire to avoid 
 it ; and as to advance or to retreat, in these labyrinthine walks, 
 was almost equally hazardous, they retired into one of those green 
 recesses which we have before mentioned ; indeed, it was the very 
 evergreen grove in the centre of which the Nymph of the Foun- 
 tain watched for her loved Carian youth. A shower of moonlight 
 fell on the marble statue, and showed the Nymph in an attitude of 
 consummate skill : her modesty struggling with her desire, and 
 herself crouching in her hitherto ptire waters, while her anxious 
 ear listens for the bounding step of the regardless huntsman. 
 
 " The air is cooler here," said the Baroness, " or the sound of 
 the falling water is pectdiarly refreshing to my senses. They have 
 passed ; I rejoice that we did not return ; I do not think that I 
 could have remained among those lamps another moment. How 
 singular, actually to view with aversion a scene which appears to 
 encliant all ! " 
 
 " A scene whicli I should have thought would have been par- 
 ticularly charming to you," said Vivian ; '' you are dispirited to- 
 night !" 
 
 "Am I?" said the Baroness. "I ought not to be; not to be 
 more dispirited than I ever am. To-night I expected pleasure; 
 nothing has happened which I did not expect, and everything 
 Avhich I did. And yet lam sad! Do you think that happiness 
 can ever be sad? I think it must be so. But whetlier I am sor- 
 rowful, or happy, I can hardly tell ; for it is only within these few 
 days tliat I have known either grief or joy." 
 
VIVIAN ghey. 401 
 
 " It must be counted an eventful period in your existence, whicli 
 reckons in its brief hours a first acquaintance with sucii passions!" 
 said Vivian, witli a searching' eye and inquiring- voice. 
 
 " Yes ; an eventful period — certainly an eventful period," an- 
 swered the Baroness ; with a thougli^ful air and in measured 
 words. 
 
 " I cannot bear to see a cloud upon that brow ! " said Vivian. 
 " Have you forgotten how much was to be done to-night ? How 
 eagerly you looked forward to its arrival ? How bitterly we were 
 to regret the termination of the mimic empire?" 
 
 " I have forgotten nothing ; would that I had ! I will not look 
 g-rave. I will be gay : and yet when I remember how soon other 
 mockery, besides this splendid pageant, must be terminated, why 
 should I look gay? — why may I not weep?" 
 
 " Nay, if we are to moralise ou worldly felicity, I fear, that 
 instead of inspiriting you, which is my wish, I shall prove but a too 
 congenial companion ; but such a theme is not for you." 
 
 " And why should it be for oue, who though he lecture me with 
 such gravity and gracefulness, can scarcely be entitled to play the 
 part of Mentor by the weight of years ? " said the Baroness, with 
 a smile ; " for one, who, I trust — who, I should think, as little de- 
 served, and was as little inured to sorrow as myself?" 
 
 " To find that you have cause to grieve," said Vivian, " and to 
 learn from you, ■ at the same time, your opinion of my own lot, 
 prove what I have too often had the sad opportunity of observing ; 
 that the face of man is scarcely more genuine and less deceitful, 
 than these masquerade dresses which we now wear." 
 
 '• But you are not unhappy ?" asked the Baroness, with a quick 
 voice. 
 
 " Not now," said Vivian. 
 
 His companion seated herself on the marble balustrade whick 
 surrounded the fountain : she did not immediately speak again, 
 and Vivian was silent, for he was watching her motionless counte- 
 nance as her large brilliant eyes gazed with earnestness on the 
 falling water sparkling in the moonlight. Surely it was not the 
 mysterious portrait at BeckendorfF's that he beheld ! 
 
 She turned. She exclaimed in an agitated voice, " friend ! 
 too lately found ; why have we met to part ?" 
 
 " To part, dearest ! " said he, in a low and rapid voice, and he 
 gently took her hand; "to part! and why should we part? — 
 why " 
 
 " Ask not ; your question is agony ! " She tried to withdraw 
 her hand, he pressed it with renewed energy, it remained in his — 
 die turned away her head, and both were silent. 
 
 2G 
 
402 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 « O ! lady," said Vivian, as lie kuelt at her side, '•' why are we 
 not hai)py?" 
 
 His arm is round her waist — gently he bends his head— their 
 speaking eyes meet, and their trembling lips cling into a kiss ! 
 
 A seal of love and purity and faith ! — and the chaste moon need 
 not have blushed as she lit up the countenances of the lovers. 
 
 " O ! lady, why are we not happy ?" 
 
 " We are, we are : is not this happiness — is not this joy — is not 
 this bliss ? Bliss," she continued, in a low broken voice, " to which 
 I have no right, no title. Oh! quit, quit my hand! Happiness is 
 not for me!" She extricated herself from his arm, and sprang 
 upon her feet. Alarm, rather than affection, was visible on her 
 agitated features. It seemed to cost her a great effort to collect 
 her scattered senses; the effort was made with pain, but with 
 success. 
 
 " Forgive me," she said, in a hurried and indistinct tone ; " for- 
 give me ! I would speak, but cannot, — not now at least ; we have 
 been long away, too long ; our absence will be remarked to-night ; 
 to-night we must give up to the gratification of others, but I will 
 speak. For yours, for my own sake, let us — let us go. You know 
 that we are to be very gay to-night, and gay we will be. Who 
 shall prevent us ? At least the present hour is our own ; and when 
 the future ones must be so sad, why, why trifle with this?" 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The reader is not to suppose that Vivian Grey thought of the 
 young Baroness merely in the rapid scenes which we have sketched. 
 There were few moments in the day in which her image did not 
 occupy his thoughts, and which, indeed, he did not spend in her 
 presence. From the first, her character had interested him. His 
 accidental but extraordinary acquaintance with Beckendorff made 
 him view any individual connected with that singular man, with a 
 far more curious feeling than could influence the young nobles of 
 the Court, who were ignorant of the Minister's personal character. 
 There was an evident mystery about the character and situation of 
 the Baroness, which well accorded with the eccentric and romantic 
 career of the Prime Minister of Reiscnburg. Of the precise nature 
 of her connection with Beckendorff, Vivian was wholly ignorant. 
 The world spoke of her as his daughter, and the aflirmation of 
 Madame Carolina confirmed tlie world's report. Her name was 
 still \inknown to liim ; and although during the few moments that 
 they had enjoyed an opportunity of conversing together alone, 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 403 
 
 Vivian had made every exertion, of which good breeding, impelled 
 by curiosity, is capable, and had devised many little artificef?, with 
 which a schooled address is well acquainted, to obtain it, his exer- 
 tions had hitherto been perfectly unsuccessful. If there was a mys- 
 tery, the young lady was perfectly competent to preserve it ; and 
 with all her naivete, her interesting ignorance of the world, and 
 her evidently uncontrollable spirit, no hasty word ever fell from her 
 cautious lips, which threw any light on the objects of his inquiry. 
 Though impetuous, she was never indiscreet, and often disi)layed a 
 caution which was little in accordance with her youth and temper. 
 The last niglit had witnessed the only moment in which her passions 
 seemed for a time to have struggled with, and to have overcome, her 
 judgment, but it was only for a moment. That display of over- 
 powering feeling had cost Vivian a sleepless night ; and he is at this 
 instant pacing up and down the chamber of his hotel, thinking of 
 that which he had imagined could exei'cise his thoughts no 
 more. 
 
 She was beautiful — she loved him ; — she was unhappy ! To bv 
 loved by any woman is flattering to the feelings of every man, ni 
 matter how deeply he may have quaffed the bitter goblet of worldly 
 knowledge. The praise of a fuol is incense to the wisest of us; 
 and though we believe ourselves broken-hearted, it still delights 
 us to find that we are loved. The memory of Violet Fane was 
 still as fresh, as sweet, to the mind of Vivian Grey, as wlien he 
 pressed her blushing cheek, for the first and only time. To love 
 again — really to love as he had done — he once thought was impos- 
 sible; he thought so still. The character of the Baroness had 
 interested him from the first. Her ignorance of mankind, and her 
 perfect acquaintance with the most polished forms of society; her 
 extreme beauty, her mysterious rank, her proud spirit and impe- 
 tuous feelings ; her occasional pensiveness, her extreme wayward- 
 ness, — had astonished, perplexed, and enchanted him. But he had 
 never felt in love. It never, for a raonient, had entered into his 
 mind, that his lonely bosom could again be a fit resting-place for 
 one so lovely and so young. Scared at the misery which iiad always 
 followed in his track, he would have shuddered ere he again asked 
 a human being to share his sad and blighted fortunes. The par- 
 tiality of the Baroness for his society, without flattering his vanity, 
 or giving rise to thoughts more serious than how he could most 
 completely enchant for her the passing houi', had certainly made 
 the time pas3ed«"in her presence the least gloomy which he had 
 lately experienced. At the same moment that he left the saloon 
 of the palace, he had supposed that his image quitted her remem- 
 brance ; and if she had again welcomed him with cheerfulness and 
 cordiality, he had felt that his reception was owiog to not being. 
 
404 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 perhaps, quite as frivolous as the Count of Eberstein, and rather 
 more amusing than the Baron of Gernsbach. 
 
 It was thei-efore with the greatest astonishment that, last night, 
 he had found that he was loved — loved, too, by this beautiful and 
 haughty girl, who had treated the advances of the most distin- 
 guished nobles with ill-concealed scorn ; and who had so presumed 
 upon her dubious relationship to the bourgeois Minister, that no- 
 thing but her own surpassing loveliness, and her parent's all-en- 
 grossing influence, could have excused or authorised her conduct. 
 
 Vivian had yielded to the magic of the moment, and had re- 
 turned the feelings apparently no sooner expressed than withdrawn. 
 Had he left the gardens of the palace the Baroness' plighted 
 lorer, he might perhaps have deplored his rash engagement ; and 
 the sacred image of his first, and hallowed love, might have risen 
 up in judgment agaiust his violated atfection — but how had he and 
 the interesting stranger parted ! He was rejected, even while his 
 affection was returned ; and while her flattering voice told him that 
 he alone could make her happy, she had mournfully declared that 
 happiness could not be hers. How was this ? Could she be 
 another's? Her agitation at the Opera, often the object of his 
 thought, quickly occurred to him! It must be so. Ah ! another's! 
 and who this rival ? — this proud possessor of a heart which could not 
 beat for him ? Madame Carolina's declaration that the Baroness 
 must be married off, was at this moment remembered : her marked 
 observation, that Von Sohnspeer was no son of Beckendorff's, not 
 forgotten. The Field Marshal too was the valued friend of the 
 Minister; and it did not fail to occur to Vivian that it was not Von 
 Sohnspeer's fault, that his attendance on the Baroness Avas not as 
 constanf as his own. Indeed, the unusual gallantry of the Com- 
 mander-in-chief had been the subject of many a joke, among the 
 young lords of the Court; and the reception of his addresses by 
 their unmerciful object, not unobserved or unspared. But as for 
 poor Von Sohnspeer, whail could be expected, as Emilius von As- 
 lingen observed, " from a man whose softest compliment was as 
 long, loud, and obscure, as a birth-dny salute ! " 
 
 No sooner Avas the all'air clear to Vivian — no sooner was he con- 
 vinced that a powerful obstacle existed to the love or union of 
 himself and the Baroness, than he began to ask, what right the 
 interests of third persons had to interfere between the mutual af- 
 fection of any individuals. He thought of her in the moonlight 
 garden, struggling with her pure and natural passfen. He thought 
 of her exceeding beauty — her exceeding love. He beheld this rare 
 and lovely creature in tbe embrace of Von Sohnspeer. lie turned 
 from the picture in disgust and indignation. She was his — Nature 
 had decreed it. She should be tlic bride of uo otiicr man. Sooner 
 
VIVIAN GEEY. 405 
 
 than yield her up, he would beard Beekendorff himself in his own 
 retreat, and run every hazard, and meet every danger, which the ar- 
 dent imagination of a lover could conceive. Was he madly to re- 
 ject tlie happiness which Providence, or Destiny, or Chance had at 
 length offered him ? If the romance of boyhood could never be 
 realised, at least with this engaging being for his companion, 
 he might pass through his remaining years in calmness and in 
 peace. His trials were perhaps over. Alas ! this is the last delu- 
 sion of unhappy men ! 
 
 Vivian called at the Palace, but the fatigues of the preceding 
 night prevented either of the ladies from being visible. In the 
 evening, he joined a very small and select circle. The party, 
 indeed, only consisted of the Grand-Duke, Madame, their vi- 
 sitors, and the usual attendants, himself, and Von Sohnspeer. 
 The quiet of the little circle did not more strikingly contrast 
 with the noise, and glare, and splendour of the last night, than did 
 Vivian's subdued reception by the Baroness, with her agitated de- 
 meanour in the garden. She was cordial, but calm. He found it 
 quite impossible to gain even one moment's private conversation 
 with her. Jladai^e Carolina monopolised his attention, as much 
 to favour the vicAvs of the Field Marshal, as to discuss the compa- 
 rative merits of Pope, as a moralist and a poet ; and Vivian had 
 the mortification of observing his odious rival, whom he now 
 thoroughly detested, discharge, without ceasing, his royal salutes 
 in the impatient ear of Beckendorff's lovely daughter. 
 
 Towards the conclusion of the evening, a Chamberlain entered 
 the room, and whispered his mission to the Baroness. She im- 
 mediately rose, and quitted the apartment. As the party was 
 breaking up, she again entered. Her countenance was v^ry agi- 
 tated. Madame Caro'.ina was in the act of being overwhelmed 
 with the compliments of the Grand Marshal, and Vivian seized the 
 opportunity of reaching the Baroness. After a few very hurried 
 sentences she dropped her glove. Vivian gave it her. So many 
 persons were round them, that it was impossible to converse except 
 on the most common topics. The glove was again dropped. 
 
 "I see," said the Baroness, with a very meaning look, "that 
 you are but a recreant knight, or else you would not part with a 
 lady's glove so easily." 
 
 Vivian gave a rapid glance round the room. No one was ob- 
 serving him, and the glove was immediately concealed. He hur- 
 ried home, rushed up the staircase of the hotel, ordered lights, 
 locked the door, and with a sensation of indescribable anxiety, tore 
 the precious glove from his bosom ; seized, opened, and read the 
 enclosed and following note. It was written in pencil, in a hur- 
 ried hand, and some of the words were repeated. 
 
406 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 *' I leave the Court to-night. He is here himself. No art can 
 postpone my departure. Much, much I wish to see you ; to say — 
 to say — to you. He is to have an interview with the Grand-Duke 
 to-morrow morning. Dare you come io his place in his absence? 
 You know the private road. He goes by the hii^h road, and calls 
 in his way on a Forest Councillor : it is the white house by the 
 barrier ; you know it ! Watch him to-morrow morning ; about 
 nine or ten I should think — here, here; — and then for heaven's 
 sake let me see you. Dare everything! Fail not! Mind,- by 
 the private road: — beware the other! You know the ground. 
 God bless you ! 
 
 « Sybilla." 
 
 CHAPTER Xn. 
 
 Vivian read the note over a thousand times. He could not 
 retire to rest. He called Essper George, and gave him all neces- 
 sary directions for the morning. About three o'clock Vivian lay 
 down on a sofii, and slept for a few hours. He started often in 
 his short and feverish slumber. His dreams were unceasing and 
 inexplicable. At first Von Sohuspeer was their natural hero ; but 
 soon the scene shifted. Vivian was at Ems, walking under the 
 well-remembered lime-trees, and with the Baroness. Suddenly, 
 although it was mid-day, the Sun became very large, blood-red, 
 and fell out of the heavens — his companion screamed — a man 
 rushed forward with a drawn sword. It was the idiot Crown 
 Prince of Reisenburg. Vivian tried to oppose him, but without 
 success. The infuriated ruffian sheathed his weapon in the heart 
 of the Baroness. Vivian shrieked, and fell upon her body — and 
 to his horror, found himself embracing the cold corpse of Violet 
 Fane ! 
 
 Vivian and Essper mounted their horses about seven o'clock. 
 At eight they had reached a small inn near the Forest Coun- 
 cillor's house, where Vivian was to remain until Essper had 
 watched the entrance of the Minister. It was a very few minutes 
 past nine when Essper returned with the joyful intelligence that 
 Owlfiice and his nn^ster had been seen to enter the Court-yard. 
 Vivian immediately mounted Max, and telling Essper to keep a 
 sharp watch, he set spurs to his horse. 
 
 " Now, Max, my good steed, each minute is golden — serve thy 
 master well!" Ho patted the horse's neck- the animal's erected 
 ears proved how well it understood its master's wishes ; and taking 
 advantage of the loose bridle, which was confidently allowed it, 
 the horse sprang rather than galloped to the Minister's residence. 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 407 
 
 Nearly an hour, however, wfts lost in gaining the private road, 
 for Vivian, after the caution in the Baroness' letter, did not dare 
 the high road. 
 
 He is galloping up the winding rural lane, where he met Becken- 
 dorff on the second morning of his visit. He has reached the 
 little gate, and following the example of the Grand-Duke, ties 
 Ma.x at the entrance. He dashes over the meadows, not following 
 the path, but crossing straight through the long and dewy grass — 
 he leaps over the light iron railing ; he is rushing up the walk ; he 
 takes a rapid glance in passing, at the little summer-house — the 
 blue passion-flower is still blooming — the house is in sight; a 
 white handkerchief is waving from the drawing-room window! 
 He sees it ; fresh wings are added to his coui'se ; he dashes through 
 a bed of flowers, frightens the white peacock, darts through the 
 library-window, is in the drawing-room ! 
 
 The Baroness was there : pale and agitated she stood beneath 
 the mysterious picture, with one arm leaning on the old carved 
 mantelpiece. Overcome by her emotions, she did not move for- 
 ward to meet him as he entered ; but Vivian observed neither her 
 constraint nor her agitation. 
 
 " Sybilla ! dearest Sybilla ! say you are mine ! " 
 
 He seized her hand. She struggled not to disengage her- 
 self; her head sank upon her arm, which rested upon his shoulder. 
 Overpowered, she sobbed convulsively. He endeavoured to 
 calm her, but her agitation increased ; and minutes elapsed ere 
 she seemed to be even sensible of his presence. At length she 
 became more calm, and apparently making a struggle to com- 
 pose herself, she raised her head and said, " This is very weak : 
 let us walk for a moment about the room ! " 
 
 At this moment Vivian was seized by the throat with a strong- 
 grasp. He turned round — it was Mr. Beckendorfi", with a face 
 deadly white, his full eyes darting from their sockets like a hungry 
 snake's, and the famous Italian dagger in his right hand. 
 
 " Villain ! " said he, in the low voice of fatal passion. " Villain ; 
 is this your Destiny ? " 
 
 Vivian's first thoughts were for the Baroness ; and turning his 
 head from Beckendorff, he looked with the eye of anxious love to 
 his companion. But, instead of fainting, instead of being over- 
 whelmed by this ten-ible interruption, she seemed, off the contrary, 
 to have suddenly regained her natural spirit and self-possession. 
 The blood had returned to her hitherto pale cheek, and the fire to 
 an eye before dull with weeping. She extricated herself imme- 
 diately from Vivian's encircling arm ; and, by so doing, enabled 
 him to have struggled, had it been necessary, more equally with 
 the powerful grasp of his assailant. 
 
408 VIVIAN GKEY. 
 
 " Stand off, sir ! " said the Baroness, with an air of inexpressible 
 dirjnity, and a voice which even at this crisis seemed to anticipate 
 that it would be obeyed. " Stand off, sir ! stand off, I command 
 you!" 
 
 Beckendorff, for one moment, was motionless : he then fare 
 her a look of piercing earnestness, threw Vivian, rather than 
 released him, from his hold, and flung tlie dagger, with a bitter 
 smile, into the corner of the room. " Well, madam!" said he, in 
 a choking voice, " you are obeyed ! " 
 
 " Mr. Grey," continued the Baroness, '•' I regret that this out- 
 rage should have been experienced by you, because you have dared 
 to serve me. My presence should have preserved you from this 
 contumely ; but what are we to expect from those who pride 
 themselves upon being the sons of slaves ! You shall hear farther 
 from me." So saying, the lady bowing to Vivian, and sweeping 
 by the Minister, with a glance of indescribable disdain, quitted 
 the apartment. As she was on the point of leaving the room, 
 Vivian was standing against the wall, with a pale face and folded 
 arms, — Beckendorff, with his back to the window, his eyes fixed 
 on the ground — and Vivian to his astonishment perceived, what 
 escaped the Minister's notice, that while the lady bade him adieu 
 with one hand, she made rapid signs with the other to some 
 unknown person in the garden. 
 
 Mr. Beckendorff and Vivian were left alone, and the latter was 
 the first to break silence. 
 
 " Mr. Beckendorff," said he, in a calm voice, " considering the 
 circumstances under which you have found me in your house this 
 morning, I should have known how to excuse, and to forget, any 
 irritable expressions which a moment of ungovernable passion 
 might have inspired. I sliould have passed them over unnoticed. 
 But your unjustifiable behaviour has exceeded that line of de- 
 marcation which sympathy with human feelings allows even men 
 of honour to recognise. You have disgraced both me and your- 
 self by giving me a blow. It is, as that lady well styled it, an 
 outrage — an outrage which the blood of any other man but your- 
 self could only obliterate from my memory ; but while I am in- 
 clined to be indulgent to your exalted station, and your peculiar 
 character, I at the same time e.xpect, and now wait for, au 
 apology." 
 
 "An apology!" said Beckendorff, now beginning to stamp up 
 and down the room ; " ;in apology ! Shall it be made to you, sir, 
 or the Archduchess ?" 
 
 "The Archduchess!" said Vivian. "Good God! what can 
 you mean! Did I hear you right?" 
 
 " I said the Archduchess," answered Beckendorff, with firm- 
 
VIVIAN GEET. 409 
 
 ness ; " a Princess of the House of Austria, .and the pledged wife 
 of his Royal Highness the Crown Prince of Reisenburg. Perhaps 
 you may now think that other persons have to apologise?" 
 
 " Mr. Beckendorff," said Vivian, " I am overwhelmed ; I de- 
 clare, upon my honour " * 
 
 " Stop, sir! you have said too much already " 
 
 " But, Mr. Beckendorff, surely you will allow me to ex. 
 plain " 
 
 " Sir ! there is no need of explanation. I know everything — 
 more than you do yourself. You can have nothing to explain to 
 me ; and I presume you are now fully aware of the impossibility 
 of again speaking to her. It is at present within an hour of 
 noon. Before sunset you must be twenty miles from the Court — 
 so far you will be attended. Do not answer me — ^you know 
 my power. A remonstrance only, and I write to Vienna : your 
 progress shall be stopped throughout the South of Europe. For 
 her sake, this business will be hushed up. An important and 
 secret mission will be the accredited reason of your leaving 
 Reisenburg. This will be confirmed by your ofScial attendant, 
 who will be an Envoy's Courier — farewell ! " 
 
 As Mr. Beckendorff quitted the room, his confidential servant, 
 the messenger to Turriparva, entered; and with the most re- 
 spectful bow, informed Vivian that the horses were ready. In 
 about three hours time, Vivian Grey, followed by the Government 
 messenger, stopped at his hotel. The landlord, and waiters, 
 bowed with increased obsequiousness, on seeing him so attended ; 
 and in a few minutes Reisenburg was ringing with the news that 
 his appointment to the Under-Secretarysliip of State was now 
 «a settled thing." 
 
410 VIVIAN GEEY. 
 
 BOOK VIIL 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The landlord of the Grand Hotel of the Four Nations at Reiseu- 
 burg was somewhat consoled for the sudden depxirture of his 
 distinguished guest by selling the plenipotentiai-y a travelling car- 
 riage, lately taken for a doubtful bill from a gambling Russian 
 general, at a large profit. In this convenient vehicle, in the 
 course of a couple of hours after his arrival in the city, was Mr. 
 Vivian Grey borne through the gate of the Allies. Essper George, 
 who had reached the hotel about half an hour after his master, 
 followed behind the carriage on his hack, leading Max. The 
 Courier cleared the road before, and expedited the arrival of the 
 special Envoy of the Grand-Duke of Reisenburg at the point of his 
 destination, by ordering the horses, clearing the barriers, and pay- 
 ing the postilions in advance. Vivian had never travelled before 
 with such style and speed. 
 
 Our hero cgvered himself up with his cloak, and drew his travel- 
 ling cap over his eyes, though it was one of the hottest days of 
 this singularly hot autumn. Entranced in a reverie, the only figure 
 that occurred to his mind was the young Archduchess, and the 
 only sounds that dwelt on his ear were the words of Beckendorff ; — 
 but neither to the person of the first, nor to the voice of the 
 second, did he annex any definite idea. 
 
 After some hours' travelling, which to Vivian seemed both an 
 age and a minute, he was roused from his stupor by the door of 
 his caleche being opened. He shook himself as a man does who 
 has wakened from a benumbing and lieavy sleep, although his 
 eyes were the whole time wide open. The disturbing intruder 
 was his courier ; who bowing, with his hat in hand, informed his 
 Excellency that he was now on the frontier of Reisenburg; regret- 
 ting that he was under the necessity of quitting his Excellency, he 
 begged to present him with Lis passport. "It is made out for 
 Vienna," continued the messenger. " A private pass, sir, of the 
 Prime Minister, and will entitle you to the greatest considera- 
 tion." 
 
 The carriage was soon again advancing rapidly to the next 
 post-house ; when, after tliey had proceeded about half a mile, 
 Essper George, calling loudly from behind, the drivers suddenly 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 411 
 
 stopped. Just as Vivian, to whose tortured mind the rapid move- 
 ment of the carriage was some relief — for it produced an excite- 
 ment which prevented thought— was about to inquire the cause of 
 this stoppage, Essper George rode up to the caleche. 
 
 " Kind sir ! " said he, with a very peculiar look, '•' I have a packet 
 for you." 
 
 " A packet ! from whom ? speak ! give it me ! " 
 
 " Hush ! softly, good master. Here am I about to commit rank 
 treason for your sake ; and a hasty word is the only reward of my 
 rashness." 
 
 " Nay, nay, good Essper try me not now ! " 
 
 " I will not, kind sir ! but the truth is, I could not give you the 
 packet while that double-faced knave was with us, or even while 
 he was in sight. ' In good truth,' as Master Rodolph was wont to 
 say !" 
 
 "But of this packet?" 
 
 " ' Fairly and softly,' good sir ! as Hunsdrich the porter said, 
 when I would have drunk the mulled wine, while he was on the 
 cold staircase " 
 
 " Essper ! do you mean to enrage me ? " 
 
 " ' By St. Hubert ! ' as that worthy gentleman, the Grand Mar- 
 shal, was in the habit of swearing, I " 
 
 " This is too much, — what are the idle sayings of these people to 
 me ?" 
 
 " Nay, nay, kind sir ! they do but show that each of us has his 
 own way of telling a story ; and that he who would hear a tale, 
 must let the teller's breath come out of his own nostrils." 
 
 " Well, Essper, speak ou ! Stranger things have happened to 
 me than to be reproved by my own servant." 
 
 " Nay, kind master 1 say not a bitter word to me, because you 
 have slipped out of a scrape with your head on your shoulders. 
 The packet is from Mr. Beckendorff's daughter." 
 
 " Ah ! why did not you give it to me before ?" 
 
 " Why do I give it you now ? Because I am a fool — that i^ 
 why. What! you wanted it when that double-faced scoundrel 
 was watching every eyelash of yours, as it moved from the breath 
 of a fly ? — a fellow who can see as well at the back of his head, as 
 from his face. I should like to poke out his front eyes, to put him 
 on an equality with the rest of mankind. He it was, who let the 
 old gentleman know of your visit this morning, and I suspect that 
 he has been nearer your limbs of late than you have imagined. 
 Every dog has his day, and the oldest pig must look for the knife! 
 The Devil was once cheated on Sunday, and I have been too sharp 
 for Puss in boots and his mousetrap ! Prowling about the Forest 
 Councillor's house, I saw your new servant, sir, gallop in, and liis 
 
413 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 old master soon gallop out ; I was off as quick as they, but was 
 obliged to leave my horse witliin two miles of the house, and then 
 trust to my legs. I crept through the shrubs like a land tortoise ; 
 but, of course, too late to M'arn you. However, I was in for the 
 death, and making signs to the young lady, who directly saw that 
 I was a friend, — bless her ! she is as quick as a partridge, — I left 
 you to settle it with papa, and, after all, did that which I suppose 
 you intended, sir, to do yourself — made my way into the young- 
 lady's — bedchamber." 
 
 " Hold your tongue, sir ! and give me the packet." 
 
 " There it is, and now we will go on ; but we must stay an hour 
 at the next post, if your honour pleases not to sleep there; for 
 both Max and my own hack have had a sharp day's work." 
 
 Vivian tore open the packet. It contained a long letter, written 
 on the night of her return to Beckendorff's ; she had stayed up 
 the whole night writing. It was to have been forwarded to Vivian, 
 in case of their not being able to meet. In the enclosure were a 
 few hurried lines, written since the catastrophe. They were these : 
 — " May this safely reach you ! Can you ever forgive me ? The 
 enclosed, you will see, was intended for you, in case of our not 
 meeting. It anticipated sorrow ; yet what were its anticipations 
 to our reality ! " 
 
 The Archduchess' letter was evidently written under the influ- 
 ence of the most agitated feelings. We omit it ; because, as the 
 mystery of her character is now explained, a great portion of her 
 communication would be irrelevant to our tale. She spoke of her 
 exalted station as a woman — that station which so many women 
 envy — in a spirit of agonising bitterness. A royal princess is only 
 the most flattered of state victims. She is a political sacrifice, by 
 which enraged Governments are appeased, wavering allies con- 
 ciliated, and ancient amities confirmed. Debarred by her rank 
 and her education from looking forward to that exchange of equal 
 affection, which is the great end and charm of female existence, 
 no individual finds more fatally, and feels more keenly, that pomp 
 is not felicity, and splendour not content. 
 
 Deprived of all those sources of happiness which seem inhe- 
 rent in woman, the wife of the Sovereign sometimes seeks in poli- 
 tics and in pleasure, a means of excitement which may purchase 
 oblivion. But the political queen is a rare character ; she must 
 possess an intellect of unusual power, and her lot must be con- 
 sidered as an exception in tlie fortunes of female royalty. Even 
 the political queen generally close? an agitated career with a 
 broken heart. And for the unhappy votary of pleasure, who owns 
 her cold duty to a royal husband, we must not forget, that even in 
 the most dissipated courts, the conduct of the queen is expected to 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 413 
 
 be decorous ; and that the instances are not rare, where the wife 
 of the monarch has died on the scaffold, or in a dungeon, or in exile, 
 because she dared to be indiscreet, where all were debauched. 
 But for the great majority of royal wives, they exist without a 
 passion ; they have nothing to hope — nothing to fear — nothing to 
 envy — nothing to want — nothing to confide — nothing to hate — 
 and nothing to love. Even their duties, though multitudinous, 
 are mechanical ; and while they require much attention, occasion 
 no anxiety. Amusement is their moment of greatest emotion, and 
 for them amusement is rare ; for amusement is the result of equal 
 companionship. Thus situated, they are doomed to become frivo- 
 lous in their pursuits, and formal in their manners ; and the Court 
 chaplain, or the Court confessor, is the only person who can prove 
 they have a soul, by convincing them that it will be saved. 
 
 The young Archduchess had assented to the proposition of 
 marriage Avith the Crown Prince of Reisenburg without opposi- 
 tion; as she was convinced that requesting her assent was only a 
 courteous form of requiring her compliance. There was nothing 
 outrageous to her feelings in marrying a man whom she had never 
 seen ; because her education, from Ijer tenderest years, had daily 
 prepared her for such an event. Moreover, she was aware that, if 
 she succeeded in escaping from the offers of the Crown Prince of 
 Reisenburg, she would soon be under the necessity of assenting to 
 those of some other suitor; and if proximity to her own country, 
 accordance with its sentiments and manners, and previous con- 
 nection with her ovvn house, were taken into consideration, an 
 union with the family of Reisenburg was even desirable. It was 
 to be preferred, at least, to one which brought with it a foreign 
 husband, and a foreign clime ; a strange language, and strange 
 customs. The Archduchess — a girl of ardent feelings and lively 
 mind — had not, however, agreed to become that all-commanding* 
 slave — a Queen — without a stipulation. She required that she 
 might be allowed, previous to her marriage, to visit her future 
 Court, incognita. This singular and unparalleled proposition was 
 not easily acceded to : but the opposition with which it was re- 
 ceived, only tended to make the young Princess more determined 
 to be gratified in her caprice. Her Imperial Highness did not pre- 
 tend that any end was to be obtained by this unusual procedure, 
 and indeed she had no definite purpose in requesting it to be per- 
 mitted. It was originally the mere whim of the moment, and hac 
 it not been strongly opposed, it would not have been strenuously 
 insisted upon. As it was, the young Archduchess persisted, threat- 
 ened, and grew obstinate ; and the grey-headed negotiators of the 
 marriage, desirous of its %eedy completion, and not having a more 
 tractable tool ready to supply her place, at length yielded to her 
 
414 VIVIAN* GBET. 
 
 bold importunity. Great difficulty, however, was experienced in 
 carrying her wishes into execution. By what means, and in what 
 character, she was to appear at Court, so as not to excite suspicion 
 or occasion discovery, were often discussed, without being resolved 
 upon. At length it became necessary to consult Mr. BeckendorfF. 
 The upper lip of the Prime Minister of Reisenburg curled, as the 
 Imperial Minister detailed the caprice and contumacy of the Prin- 
 cess ; and treating with the greatest contempt this girlish whim, 
 Mr. Beckendorff ridiculed those by whom it had been humoured, 
 with no suppressed derision. The consequence of his conduct 
 was an interview with the future Grand Duchess, and the conse- 
 quence of his interview, an unexpected undertaking on his part to 
 arrange the visit, according to her Highness' desires. 
 
 The Archduchess had not yet seen the Crown Prince ; but six 
 miniatures, and a whole length portrait, had prepared her for not 
 meeting an Adonis^ or a Baron Trenck; and that was all — for 
 never had the Corregio of the age of Charles the Fifth better sub- 
 stantiated his claims to the office of Court painter, than by these 
 accurate semblances of his Royal Highness ; in which his hump 
 was subdued into a Grecian tj,end, and his lack-lustre eyes seemed 
 beaming with tenderness and admiration. His betrothed bride 
 stipulated with Mr. Beckendorff, that the fact of her visit should 
 be known only to himself and the Grand-Duke ; and before she 
 appeared at Court, she had received the personal pledge, both of 
 himself and his Royal Highness, that the affair should be kept a 
 complete secret from the Crown Prince. 
 
 Most probably, on her tirst introduction to her future husband, 
 all the romantic plans of the young Archduchess, to excite an in- 
 voluntary interest in his heart, vanished — but how tliis may be, it 
 is needless for us to inquire : for that same night introduced 
 another character into her romance, for whom she was perfectly 
 unprepared, and whose appearance totally disorganised its plot. 
 
 Her inconsiderate, her unjustifiable conduct, in tampering with 
 that individual's happiness and affection, was what the young 
 and haughty Archduchess deplored in the most energetic, the 
 most feeling, and the most humble spirit ; and anticipating, that 
 after this painful disclosure, they would never meet again, she 
 declared, that for his sake alone she regretted what had passed 
 — and praying that he might be happier than herself, she suppli- 
 cated to be forgiven and forgotten. 
 
 Vivian read the Archduchess' letter over and over again ; and 
 then put it in his breast. At first he tliought that he had lived to 
 shed another tear; but he was mistaken. In a few miiuites he 
 found himself quite roused from his lite overwhelming stupor. 
 Remorse, or regret for tlie past — care, or caution for the future, 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 415 
 
 seemed at the same moment to have fled from his mind. He 
 looked up to Heaven, with a wild smile — half of despair, and half 
 of defiance. It seemed to imply, that Fate had now done her 
 worst : and that he had at last the satisfaction of knowing himself 
 to be the most unfortunate and unhappy being- that ever existed. 
 When a man, at the same time, believes in, and sneers at, his Des- 
 tiny, we may be sure that he considers his condition past redemp- 
 tion. 
 
 CHAPTER H. 
 
 They stopped for an hour at the next post, according to Essper's 
 suggestion. Indeed, he proposed resting there for the night, for 
 both men and beasts much required repose ; but Vivian panted to 
 reach Vienna, to which city two days' travelling would now carry 
 him. His passions were so roused, and his powers of reflection so 
 annihilated, that while he had determined to act desperately, he 
 was unable to resolve upon anything desperate. Whether, on his 
 arrival at the Austrian capital, he should plunge into dissipation, 
 or into the Danube, was equally uncertain. He had some thought 
 of joining the Greeks or Turks — no matter which — probably the 
 atter — or perhaps of serving in the Americas. The idea of re- 
 turning to England never once entered his mind : he expected to 
 find letters from his father at Vienna, and he almost regretted it ; 
 for, in liis excessive misery, it was painful to be conscious that a 
 being still breathed, who was his friend. 
 
 It was a fine moonlight night, but the road was very moun- 
 tainous ; and in spite of all the encouragement of Vivian, and all 
 the consequent exertions of the postilion, they were upwards of 
 two hours and a half going these eight miles. To get on any 
 farther to-night was quite impossible. Essper's horse was fairly 
 knocked up, and even Max visibly distressed. The post-house 
 was fortunately an Inn. It was not at a village ; and, as far as 
 the travellers could learn, not near one; and its appearance did not 
 promise very pleasing accommodation. Essper, who had scarcely 
 tasted food for nearly eighteen hours, was not highly delighted 
 with the prospect before them. His anxiety, however, was not 
 merely selfish : he was as desirous that his young master should be 
 refreshed by a good night's rest, as himself ; and anticipating that 
 he should have to exercise his skill in making a couch for Vivian 
 in the carriage, he proceeded to cross-examine tlie post-master on 
 the possibility of his accommodating them. The host was a pious- 
 looking personage, in a black velvet cap, with a singularly meek 
 and charitable expression of countenance. His long black hair 
 
416 VIVIAN GKET, 
 
 was exquisitely braided ; and he wore round his neck a collar of 
 pewter medals, all which had been recently sprinkled with holy 
 water, and blessed under the petticoat of the saintly Virgin ; for 
 "*he post-master had only just returned from a pilgrimage to the 
 celebrated shrine of the Black Lady of Altoting. 
 
 " Good friend ! " said Essper, looking him cunningly in the face, 
 " I fear that we must order horses on : you can hardly accom- 
 modate two ? " 
 
 " Good friend ! " answered the innkeeper, and he crossed him- 
 self very reverently at the same time, " it is not for man to fear, 
 but to hope." 
 
 " If your beds were as good as your adages," said Essper George, 
 laughing, " in good truth, as a friend of mine would say, I would 
 sleep here to-night." 
 
 " Prithee, friend," continued the innkeeper, kissing a medal oi 
 his collar very devoutly, " what accommodation dost thou lack ? " 
 
 " Why," said Essper, " in the way of accommodation, little — 
 for two excellent beds will content us ; but in the way of refresh- 
 ment — by St. Hubert ! as another friend of mine would swear — he 
 would be a bold man who would engage to be as hungry before 
 his dinner, as I shall be after my supper." 
 
 " Friend ! " said the innkeeper, " Our Lady forbid that thou 
 shouldst leave our walls to-night : for the accommodation, we have 
 more than sufficient ; and as for the refreshment — by Holy Mass ! 
 we had a priest tarry here last night, and he left his rosary behind : 
 I will comfort my soul, by telling my beads over the kitchen-fire ; 
 and for every Paternoster, my wife shall give thee a rasher of kid, 
 and for every Ave, a tumbler of Augsburg ; which. Our Lady for- 
 get me ! if I did not myself purchase, but yesterday se"nnight, from 
 the pious fathers of the Convent of St. Florian ! " 
 
 " I take thee at thy word, honest sir," said Essper. " By the 
 Creed ! I liked thy appearance from the first : nor wilt thou find 
 me unwilling, when my voice has taken its supper, to join thee ii 
 some pious hymn or holy canticle. And now for the beds ! " 
 
 . " There is the green room — the best bedroom in my bouse," sai. 
 the innkeeper. " Holy Mary forget nic ! if in that same bed have 
 not stretched their legs, more valorous generals, more holy pre- 
 lates, and more distinguished councillors of our Lord the Emperor, 
 than in any bed in all Austria:" 
 
 " That then, for my master — and for myself! " 
 
 " H — u — m ! " said the host, looking very earnestly in Essper 's 
 face ; " I should have thought that thou wert one more anxious 
 after dish and flagon, than curtain and eiderdown ! " 
 
 " By my Mother ! I love good cheer," said Essper earnestly ; 
 *'* and want it more at tliis moment than any knave that ever yet 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 417 
 
 starved : but if thou hast not a, bed to let me stretch my legs on, 
 after four-and-twenty hours' hard riding-, by holy Virgin ! I will 
 have horses on to Vienna." 
 
 " Our Black Lady forbid ! " said the innkeeper, with a quick 
 voice, and with rather a dismayed look — '■ said I that thou shouldst 
 not have a bed ? St. Florian desert me ! if I and my wife would 
 not sooner sleep in the chimney-corner, than thou shouldst miss 
 one wink of tliy slumbers ! '"' 
 
 " In one word, have you a bed ?" 
 
 '•' Have I a bed ? Where slept, I should like to know, the Vice- 
 Principal of the Convent of Molk, on the day before the last holy 
 Ascension ? The waters were out in the morning ; and when will 
 my wife forget what his reverence was pleased to say when he took 
 his leave ! — ' Good v.-oman ! ' said he, ' my duty calls me ; but the 
 weather is cold ; and betv>-een ourselves, I am used to great feasts; 
 and I should have no objection, if I were privileged, to stay and to 
 eat again of thy red cabbage and cream ! ' — what say you to that ? 
 Do you think we have got beds now? You shall sleep to-night, 
 SU-, like an Aulic Councillor ! " 
 
 This adroit introduction of the red cabbage and cream settled 
 everything — when men are wearied and famished, they have no in- 
 clination to be incredulous — and in a few moments Vivian was 
 informed by his servant that the promised accommodation was 
 satisfactoiy ; and having locked up the carriage, and wheeled t 
 into a small outhouse, he and Essper were ushered by their host 
 into a room, vy-hich, as is usual in small German inns in the South, 
 served at the same time both for kitchen and saloon. The fire was 
 lit in a platform of brick, raised in the centre of the floor : — the 
 sky was visible through the chimney, which although of a great 
 breadth below, gradually narrowed to the top. A family of wan- 
 dering Bohemians, consisting of the father and mother, and three 
 childi-eu, were seated on the platform v.hea Vivian entered : the 
 man was playing on a coarse wooden harji, without which the 
 Bohemians seldom travel. The music ceased, as the new guests 
 came into the room, and the Bohemian courteously offered his 
 place at the fire to our hero; who, however, declined disturbing 
 the family group. A small table and a couple of chairs were 
 placed in a corner of the room by the innkeeper's wife — a bustling 
 active dame — who apparently found no difficulty in laying the cloth, 
 dusting the furniture, and cooking the supper, at the same time. 
 At this table Vivian and his servant seated themselves ; nor, indeed, 
 did the cookery discredit the panegyric of the Reverend Vice- 
 Principal of the Convent of Molk. 
 
 Alike wearied in mind and body, Vivian soon asked for his bed ; 
 which, though not exactly fitted for an Aulic Councillor, as the 
 
 27 
 
418 VIVLVN GREY. 
 
 good host perpetually avowed it to be, nevertheless afforded decent 
 aceommodatiou. 
 
 The Bohemian family retired to the hay-loft ; and Essper George 
 ■would have followed his master's example, had not the kind mis- 
 tress of the house tempted him to stay behind, by the production 
 of a new platter of rashers : indeed, he never remembered meeting- 
 with such hospitable people as the post-master and his wife. They 
 had evidently taken a fancy to him ; and, though extremely wearied, 
 the lively little Essper endeavoured, between his quick mouthfuls 
 and long draughts, to reward and encourage their kindness by 
 many a good story and sharp joke. With all these, both mine host 
 and his wife were exceedingly amused ; seldom containing their 
 laughter, and frequently protesting, by the sanctity of various 
 saints, that this was the pleasantest night, and Essper the plea- 
 santest fellow, that they had ever met with. 
 
 " Eat, eat, my friend ! " said his host ; " by the JMass ! thou hast 
 travelled far ; and fill thy glass, and pledge with me Our Black 
 Lady of Altoting. By Holy Cross ! I have hung up this week in 
 her chapel a garland of silk roses ; and have ordered to be burnt 
 before her shrine three pounds of perfumed wax tapers! Fill 
 again, fill again ! and thou too, good mistress ; a hard day's work 
 hast thou had — a glass of wine will do thee no harm ; join me with 
 our new friend! Pledge we together the Holy Fathers of St. 
 Florian, my worldly patrons, and my spiritual pastors : let us pray 
 that his reverence the Sub-Prior may not have his Christmas attack 
 of gout in the stomach ; and a better health to poor Father Felix ! 
 Fill again, fill again ! this Augsbiu'g is somewhat acid ; Ave will 
 have a bottle of Hungary. Mistress, fetch us the bell-glasses, and 
 here to the Reverend Vice-Principal of Molk! our good friend: 
 when will my wife forget what he said to her on the morning of last 
 holy Ascension ! Fill again, fill again ! "' 
 
 Inspired by the convivial spirit of the pious and jolly post-master, 
 Essper George soon forgot his threatened visit to his bed-room, 
 and ate and drank, laughed and joked, as if he were -again with 
 his friend. Master Rodolph : but wearied Nature at length avenged 
 herself for this unnatural exertion ; and leaning back in his chair, 
 he was, in the course of an hour, overcome by one of those dead 
 nnd heavy slumbers, the effect of the united influence of fotiguc 
 and intemperance — in short, it was like the midnight sleep of a 
 fox-hunter. 
 
 No sooner had our pious votary of the Black Lady of Altoting 
 observed the effect of his Hungary wine, than making a well-under- 
 stood sign to his wife, he took up the chair of Essper in liis brawny 
 su-ms; and, preceded by Mrs. Post-mistress with a lantern, lie left 
 the room with his guest. Pjssper's liostess led and lighted the way 
 
nVTAN GEEY. 419 
 
 to an outhouse, which occasionally served as a coach-house, a 
 stable, and a lumber-room. It had no window, and the lantern 
 afforded the only light which exhibited its present contents. In 
 one comer was a donkey tied up, belong-ing to the Bohemian. 
 Under a hay-rack was a large child's cradle : it was of a remark- 
 able size, having been made for twins. Near it was a low wooden 
 sheep-tank, half filled with water, and which had been placed there 
 for the refreshment of the dog and his feathered friends, who 
 were roosting in the rack. 
 
 The pious innkeeper very gently lowered to the ground the 
 chair on which Essper was soundly sleeping ; and then, having 
 crossed himself, he took up our friend with great tenderness and 
 solicitude, and dexterously fitted him in the huge cradle. 
 
 About an hour past midnight;, Essper George awoke. He was 
 lying on his back, and very unwell ; and on trying to move, found 
 that he was rocking. His late adventure was obliterated from 
 his memory : and the strange movement, united with his pe- 
 culiar indisposition, left him no doubt that he was on board 
 ship ! As is often the case when we are tipsy or nervous, 
 Essper had been woke by the fright of falling from some immense 
 height ; and finding that his legs had no sensation, for they wei'e 
 quite benumbed, he concluded that he had fallen down the hatch- 
 way, that his legs were broken, and himself jammed in between 
 some logs of wood in the hold : and so he began to cry lustily to 
 those above, to come down to his rescue. 
 
 " O, Essper George ! " thought he, " how came you to set foot 
 on salt timber again ! Had not you had enough of it in the Medi- 
 terranean and the Turkish seas^ that you must be getting aboai'd 
 this lubberly Dutch galliot ! for I am sure she's Dutch, by being so 
 low in the water. Well, they may talk of a sea-life, but for my 
 part, I never even saw the use of the Sea. — Many a sad heart has it 
 caused, and many a sick stomach has it occasioned ! The boldest 
 sailor climbs on board with a heavy soul, and leaps on land with a 
 light spirit. — O ! thou indifferent ape of Earth ! thy houses are of 
 wood, and thy horses of canvas ; thy roads have no landmarks, and 
 thy highways no inns; thy hills are green without grass, and wet 
 without showers! — and as for food, what art thou, O, bully Ocean! 
 but the stable of horse-fishes, the stall of cow-fishes, the sty of 
 hog-fishes, and the kennel of dog-fishes ! — Commend me to a 
 fresh-water dish for meagre days ! — Sea-weeds stewed witii chalk 
 may be savoury stuff for a merman ; but, for my part, give me rod 
 cabbage and cream : and as for drink, a man may live in the midst 
 of thee his whole life, and die for thirst at the end of it! Be- 
 sides, thou blasphemous salt lake,, whei-e is thy religion ? Where 
 
420 VIVIAN GKEY. 
 
 are thy churches, thou heretic ? " So saying-, Essper made a despe- 
 rate effort to crawl up the hold. His exertion set the cradle 
 rocking with renewed violence ; and at last dashing against the 
 sheep-tank, that pastoral piece of furniture was overset, and part 
 of its contents poured upon the inmate of the cradle. 
 
 " Sprung a leak in the hold, by St. Nicholas ! " bavt'led out 
 Essper George. " Caulkers, a-hoy ! " 
 
 At this moment three or four fowls, roused by the fall of the 
 tank, and the consequent shouts of Essper, began fluttering about 
 the rack, and at last perched upon the cradle. " The live-stock 
 got loose ! " shouted Essper, " and the breeze getting stiffer every 
 instant ! Where is the captain ? I will see him ; I am not one 
 of tlie crew : I belong to the Court ! I must have cracked my 
 skull when I fell like a lubber down that confounded hatchway ! 
 Egad ! I feel as if I had been asleep, and been dreaming I was at 
 Court." 
 
 The sound of heavy footsteps was now over his head. These 
 noises were at once an additional proof that he was in the hold, 
 and an additional stimulus to his calls to those on deck. In fact, 
 these sounds were occasioned by the Bohemians, who always rose 
 before break of day ; and consequently, in a few minutes, the 
 door of the stable opened, and the Bohemian, with a lantern in 
 his hand, entered. 
 
 " What do you want?" cried Essper. 
 
 " I want my donkey." 
 
 " You do ?'■' said Essper. " You're the Purser, I suppose, detected 
 keeping a jackass among the poultry! eating all the food of our 
 live-stock, and we having kid every day. Though both my legs 
 are off, ril have a fling at you!" — and so saying, Essper, aided 
 by the light of the laiitern, scrambled out of the cradle, and taking 
 up the sheep-tank, sent it straight at the astonished Bohemian's 
 head. The aim was good, and the man fell ; more, however, from 
 fright than injury. Seizing his lantern, which had fallen out of 
 his hand, Essper escaped through the stable-door, and rushed into 
 the house. He found himself in the kitchen. The noise of his 
 entrance roused the landlord and his wife, who had been sleeping 
 by the fire ; since, not having a single bed besides their own, they 
 had given that up to Vivian. The countenance of the innkeeper 
 effectually dispelled the clouds which had been fast clearing oft' 
 from Esspcr's intellect. Giving one wide stare, and then rubbing 
 his eyes, the truth lighted upon him ; and so he sent the Bohe- 
 mian's lantern at his landlord's head. The post-master seized 
 the poker, and the post-mistress a faggot ; and as the Bohemian, 
 vvho had now recovered himself, had entered in the rear, Essper 
 
VIVIAN GRET. . 421 
 
 George stood a fair chance of receiving; a thorough drubbino;, had 
 not his master, roused by the suspicious noises and angry sounds 
 which Lad reached his room, entered the kitchen with his pistols. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 As it was now morning', Vivian did not again retire to rest, but 
 took advantage of the disturbance in the Inn, to continue Iiis route 
 at an earlier hour than he had previously intended. 
 
 Essper, when he found himself safely mounted, lagged behind a 
 few minutes to vent his spleen against the innkeeper's wife. 
 
 " May St. Florian confound me, madam ! " said Essper, ad- 
 dressing himself to the lady in the window, " if ever I beheld 
 so ugly a witch as yourself ! Pious friend ! thy chaplet of roses 
 was ill bestowed, and thou needest not have travelled so far to 
 light thy wax tapers at the shrine of the Black Lady tit Altoting; 
 for, by the beauty of holiness ! an image of ebony is mother of 
 pearl, to that Soot-face whom thou callest thy wife. Fare thee 
 well ! thou couple of saintly sinners ! and may the next traveller 
 who tarries in the den of thieves, qualify thee for canonization, by 
 thy wife's admiring, pastor, the cabbage-eating Vice Principal of 
 Molk." 
 
 Before the end of an hour, they had to ford a rivulet, running 
 between two high banks. The scenery just here was particularly 
 lovely, and Vivian's attention was so engrossed by it, that he did not 
 observe the danger which he was about to incur. 
 
 On the left of the road, a high range of rocky mountains 
 abruptly descended into an open but broken country ; and the other 
 side of the road was occasionally bounded by low undulating hills, 
 partially covered with dwarf woods, not high enough to obstruct 
 the view of the distant horizon. Rocky knolls jutted out near 
 the base of the mountains ; and on the top of one of them, over- 
 looked by a gigantic grey peak, stood an ancient and still inhabited 
 feudal castle. Round the base of this insulated rock, a rustic 
 village peeped above the encircling nut-woods — its I'ising smoke 
 softening the hard features of the naked crag. On the side of 
 the village nearest to Vivian, a bold sheet of water discharged 
 itself in three separate falls, between the ravine of a wooded 
 mountain ; and flowing round the village as a fine broad river, 
 expanded, before it reached the foundation of the castled rock, 
 into a long and deep lake, v/hich was also fed by numerous streams, 
 the gullies only of which were now visible down the steep sides 
 of the mountains — their springs havu)g been long dried up. 
 
422 VrviAN GREY. 
 
 Vivian's view was interrupted by his sudden descent into tlie 
 bed of the rivulet, one of the numerous branches of the moun- 
 tain torrent, and by a crash which as immediately ensued. 
 The spring of his carringe was broken. The carriage fell 
 over, but Vivian sustained no injury ; and while E.-;sper George 
 rode forward to the village for assistance, his master helped the 
 postilion to extricate the horses and secure frhem on the opposite 
 bank. They had done all that was in their power some time 
 before Essper returned ; and Vivian, who had seated himself on 
 some tangled beech-roots, was prevented growing impatient by 
 contemplating the enchanting scenery. The postilion, on the con- 
 trary, who had travelled this road every day of his life, and who 
 found no gratification in gazing upon rocks, woods, and waterfalls, 
 lit his pipe, and occasionally talked to his horses, So essential an 
 attribute of the beautiful, is novelty ! Essper at length made his 
 appearance, attended by five or six peasants, dressed in holiday 
 costume, with some fanciful decorations ; their broad hats wreathed 
 with wild fl(»wers, their short brown jackets covered with buttons 
 and fringe, and various-coloured ribbons streaming from their knees. 
 
 " Well, sir ! the grandson is born the day the grandfather dies ! 
 a cloudy morning has often a bright sunset ! and though we are now 
 sticking in a ditch, by the aid of St. Florian, we may be soon 
 feasting in a castle ! Come, my merry meu„I did not bring you 
 here to show your ribbons — the sooner you help us out of this 
 scrape, the sooner you will be again dancing with the pretty 
 maidens on the green ! Lend a hand ! " 
 
 The caleche appeared to be so much shattered, that they only 
 ventured to put in one horse ; and Vivian, leaving his carriage in 
 charge of Essper and the postilion, mounted Max, and rode to the 
 village, attended by the peasants. He learnt from them, on the 
 way, that they were celebrating the marriage of the daughter of 
 their Lord, who, having been inforraod of the accident, had com- 
 manded them to go immediately to the gentleman's assistance, and 
 then conduct him to the castle. 
 
 They crossed the river over a light stone bridge of three arches, 
 the key-stone of the centre one being decorated with a splendidly- 
 scul])tured shield. 
 
 " This bridge appears to be very recently built ?" said Vivian to 
 one of his conductors. 
 
 " It was opened, sir, for the first time, yesterday, to admit the 
 bridegroom of my young lady, and the foundation-stone was hiid 
 on the day she was born." 
 
 " I see that your good Lord was determined that it should be a 
 solid structure." 
 
 " Why, sir, it was necessary that the foundation sliouldbe strong, 
 
VIVIAN- GEET. 423 
 
 because three succeeding winters it was washed away by the rush 
 of tliat mountain-torrent. — Turn this way, if you please, sir, 
 through the village." 
 
 Vivian was much struck by the appearance of the little settle- 
 ment, as he rode through it. It did not consist of more than fifty 
 houses, but they were all detached, and each beautifully-embowered 
 in trees. The end of the village came upon a large rising green, 
 leading up to the only accessible side of the castle. It presented 
 a most animated scene, being covered with various groups, all in- 
 tent upon different rustic amusements. An immense pole, the 
 stem of a gigantic fir-tree, was fiied nearly in the centre of the 
 green, and crowned with a chaplet — the reward of the most active 
 young man of the vUlage, whose agility might enable him to dis- 
 play his gallantry, by presenting it to his mistress ; she being al- 
 lowed to wear it during the remainder of the sports. The middle- 
 aged men were proving their strength by raising weights ; while 
 the elders of the village joined in the calmer and more scientific 
 diversion of skittles, which, in Austria, are pLiyed with bowls and 
 pins of very great size. Others were dancing ; others sitting 
 under tents, chattering or taking refreshments. Some were walk- 
 ing in pairs, anticipating the speedy celebration of a wedding-day 
 — happier to them, if less gay to others. Even the teuderest in- 
 fants, on this festive day, seemed conscious of some unusual cause 
 of excitement ; and many an urchin, throwing himself forward in 
 a vain attempt to catch an elder brother or a laughing sister, tried 
 the strength of his leading-strings, and rolled over, crowing in the 
 soft grass. 
 
 At the end of the green a splendid tent was erected, with a 
 large white bridal flag waving from its top, embroidered in gold, 
 with a true-lover's knot. From this pavilion came forth, to wel- 
 come the strangers, tlie Lord ot the village. lie was a tall but thiu 
 bending figure, with a florid bei ^'v^Ieut countenance, and a quan- 
 tity of long white hair. This venerable person cordially of- 
 fered his hand to Vivian, regretted his accident, but expressed 
 much pleasure that he had come to partake of their h.titpiness. 
 " Yesterday,'' continued he, " w;is my daughter's wedding-day, 
 and both myself and our humble friends are endeavouring to for- 
 get, in this festive scene, our approaching loss and separation. If 
 you had come yesterday, you would have assisted at the opening of 
 my new bridge. Pr.iy, what do you think of it? But I will show 
 it to you myself, which I assure you will give me great pleasure : 
 at present, let me introduce you to my family, who will be quite 
 happy to see you. It is a pity that you have missed the llegatta ; 
 my daughter is just going to reward the successful candidate: you 
 see the boats upoa the lake ; the one with the white and purple 
 
424 VIVIAN GKET. 
 
 streamer was the conqueror. You will have the pleasure, too, 
 of seeing my son-in-law : I am sure you will like him— he quite 
 enjoys our sports. We shall have a fete champetre to-morrow, 
 and a dance on the green to-night." 
 
 The old gentleman paused for want of breath, and having stood 
 a moment to recover himself, he introduced his new guests to the 
 inmates of the tent ; first, his maiden sister, a softened fac-simile 
 of himself; behind her stood his beautiful and bhishing daughter, 
 the youthful bride, wearing on her head a coronal of white roses, 
 and supported by three bride's-maids, the only relief to whose 
 snowy dresses were large bouquets on their left side. The bride- 
 groom was at first shaded by tlie curtain ; but, as he came for- 
 ward, Vivian started when he recognised his Heidelburg friend, 
 Eugene von Konigstein ! 
 
 Their mutual delight and astonishment were so great, that for 
 an instant neither of them could speak ; but when the old man 
 learnt from his son-in-law, that the stranger was his most valued 
 and intimate friend, and one to whom he was under great personal 
 obligations, he absolutely declared that he would have the wed- 
 ding — to witness which, appeared to him the height of human 
 felicity— solemnised over again. The bride blushed, the bride's- 
 maids tittered; the joy was universal. 
 
 Vivian inquired after the Baron. He learnt from Eugene that 
 he had quitted Europe about a month, having sailed as Minister to 
 one of the New American States. " My uncle," continued the 
 young man, " was neither well nor in spirits before his departure : 
 I cannot understand why he plagues himself so about politics; 
 however, I trust he will like his new appointment : you found him, 
 I am sure, a delightful companion ?" 
 
 " Come ! you two young gentlemen," said the fatlier-in-law, 
 " put ofi" your chat till the evening. The business of the day 
 stops; for I see the procession coming forward to receive the 
 Regatta prize. Now, my dear ! where is the scarf? You know 
 what to say ? Remember, I particularly wisli to do honour to the 
 victor ! The sight of all these happy faces makes me feel quite 
 young again. I declare I think I shall live a hundred years ! " 
 
 Tlie procession advanced. First came a band of young children 
 strewing flowers ; then followed four stout boys carrying a large 
 purple and white banner. The victor, proudly preceding the other 
 candidates, strutted forward, with his hat on one side, a light 
 scull decorated with purple and white ribbons in bis right hand, 
 and his left arm round his wife's waist. The wife, a beautiful 
 young woman, to whom were clinging two fat fla-xen-headed chil- 
 dren, was the most interesting figure in the procession. Her tiglit 
 dark boddice set off her round full figure, and her short red petti- 
 
VIVIAN GBET. 425 
 
 coat displayed her spriugy foot and ancle. Her neatly braided and 
 plaited hair was partly concealed by a silk cap, covered with gold 
 spangled gauze, flattened rather at the top, and finished at the back 
 of the head with a large bow. This costly head-gear, the highest 
 fashion of her f-"ass, was presented to the wearer by the bride, 
 and was destined to be kept for festivals. After the victor and 
 his wife, came six girls and six boys, at tlie side of whom walked 
 a very bustling personage in black, who seemed extremely in- 
 terested about the decorum of the procession. A long train of 
 villagers succeeded. 
 
 " Well ! " said the old Lord to Vinan, " this must be a very 
 gratifying sight to you ! how fortunate that your carriage broke 
 down just at my castle! I think my dear girl is acquitting herself 
 admirably. Ah ! Eugene is a happy fellow ; and I have no doubt 
 that she will be happy too. The young sailor receives his honours 
 very properly : they are as nice a family as I know. Observe, 
 they are moving off" now to make way for the pretty girls and boys. 
 That person in black is our Abbe — as benevolent, worthy a creature 
 as ever lived ! and very clever too : you will see in a minute. Xow 
 they are going to give us a little bridal chorus, after the old 
 fashion ; and it is all the Abbe's doing. I understand that there 
 is an elegant allusion to my new bridge in it, which I think will 
 please you. "Who ever thought that bridge would be opened for 
 my girl's wedding? "Well! I am glad that it was not finished 
 before; But we must be silent! You will notice that part 
 about the bridge ; it is in the fifth verse I am told ; beginning 
 with something about HjTiien, and ending with something about 
 roses." 
 
 By this time the procession had formed a semicircle before the 
 tent ; the Abbe standing in the middle, with a paper in his hand, 
 and dividing the tv/o bands of choristers. He gave a signal with 
 Ills cune, and the gu-ls commenced : — 
 
 Chorus of Maidens. 
 
 Hours fly : it is Morn ; he has left the bed of love ! She fol- 
 lows him with a strained eye, when his figure is no longer seen; 
 she leans her head upon her arm. She is faithful to him, as the 
 lake to the mountain ! 
 
 Chorus of Youths. 
 
 Hours fly ! it is Noon ; fierce is the restless sun ! While he 
 labours, he thinks of her ! while he controls others, he will obey 
 her ! A strong man subdued by love is like a vineyard silvered by 
 the moon ! 
 
426 VIVIAX GEEY. 
 
 Cliorus of Youths and Maidens. 
 
 Hours fly ! it is Eve ; the soft star lights him to his home ; she 
 meets him as his shadow falls on the threshold! she smiles, and 
 their child, stretching forth its tender hands from its mother's 
 bosom, struggles to lisp " Father ! " 
 
 Chorus of Maidens. 
 
 Years glide ! it is Youth : they sit within a secret bower. Purity 
 is in her raptured eyes — Faith in his warm embrace. He must fly ! 
 He kisses his farewell : the fresh tears are on her cheek ! He has 
 gathered a lily with the dew upon its leaves ! 
 
 Cliorus of Youths. 
 
 Years glide ! it is Manhood. He is in the fierce Camp : he is in 
 the deceitful Court. He must mingle sometimes with others, that 
 he may be always with her ! In the false world, she is to him like 
 a green olive among rocks ! 
 
 Cliorus of Youths and Maidens. 
 
 Years glide! it is Old Age. They sit beneath a branching elm. 
 As the moon rises on the sunset green, their children dance before 
 them ! Her hand is in his — they look upon their children, and then 
 upon each other ! 
 
 " The fellov/ has some fancy," said the old Lord, " but given, I 
 think, to conceits. I did not exactly catch the passage about the 
 bridge, but I have no doubt it was all right." 
 
 Vivian was now invited to the pavilion, where refreshments were 
 prepared. Here our hero was introduced to many other guests, 
 relations of the family, who were on a visit at the castle, and who 
 had been on the lake at tlie moment of his arrival. 
 
 " This gentleman," said the old Lord, pointing- to Vivian, "is 
 my son's friend, and 1 am quite sure that you are all delighted to 
 see him. He arrived here accidentally — his carriage having for- 
 tunately broken down in passing one of the streams. All those 
 rivulets should have bridges built over them ! I could look at my 
 new bridge for ever. I often ask myself, 'Now how can such a 
 piece of masonry ever be destroyed ?' It seems quite impossible ; 
 does not it? We all know that everything has an end; and yet, 
 whenever I look at that bridge, I often think that it can only end, 
 when all things end." 
 
 In the evening they all waltzed upon the green. The large 
 yellow moon had risen ; and a more agreeable sight, than to wit- 
 
VIVIAN GREY. 427 
 
 ness two or tliree hundred persons so gaily occupied, and in such -a 
 scene, is not easy to imagine. How beautiful was the stern old 
 castle, softened by the moonlight, the illumined lake, the riclily- 
 silvered foliage of the woods, and the white brilliant cataract ! 
 
 As the castle was quite full of visitors, its hospitable master 
 had lodged Vivian, for the night, at the cottage of one of. his 
 favourite tenants. Nothing would give greater pleasure to Vivian 
 than this circumstance, nor more annoyance to the worthy old 
 gentleman. 
 
 The cottage belonged to the victor in the Regatta, who himself 
 conducted the visitor to his dwelling. Vivian did not press Ess- 
 per's leaving the revellers, so great an acquisition did he seem to 
 their sports ! Teaching them a thousand new games, and playing 
 all manner of antics ; but perhaps none of his powers surprised 
 them more, than the extraordinary facility and freedom with wliich 
 he had acquired, and used, all their names. The cottager's pretty 
 wife had gone home an hour before her husband, to put her two 
 fair-haired children to bed, and prepare her guest's accommodation 
 for the night. Nothing could be more romantic and lovely than 
 the situation of the cottage. It stood just on the gentle slope of 
 the mountain's base, not a hundred yards from the lower waterfall. 
 It was in the middle of a patch of highly-cultivated grouud, which 
 bore creditable evidence to the industry of its proprietor. Fruit 
 trees, Turkey corn, vines, and flax, flourished in luxuriance. The 
 dwelling itself was covered with myrtle and arbutus, and the tall 
 lemon-plant perfumed the window of the sitting-room. The case- 
 ment of Vivian's chamber opened full on the foaming cataract. 
 The distant murmur of the mighty waterfall, the gentle sighing of 
 the trees, the soothing influence of the moonlight, and the faint 
 sounds occasionally caught of dying revelry — the joyous exclama- 
 tion of some successful candidate in the day's g-ames, the song of 
 some returning lover, the plash of an oar in the lake — all com- 
 bined to produce that pensive mood, in which we find ourselves in- 
 voluntarily reviewing the history of our life. 
 
 As Vivian was musing over the last harassing months of his 
 biu'thensome existence, he could not help feeling that there was 
 only one person in tlie world on whom his memory could dwell 
 witli solace and satisfaction ; and this person was Lady Madeleine 
 Trevor ! 
 
 It was true that with her he had passed some agonising hours ; 
 but he could not forget the angelic resignation with whicli her 
 own affliction had been borne, and the soothing converse by Avliich 
 his had been alleviated. This train of thought was pursued till 
 his aching mind sunk into indefinitencss. He sat, for some little 
 time, almost unconscious of existence, till the crying of a child, 
 
428 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 waked by its father's return, brought him back to the present 
 scene. His thoughts naturally ran to his friend Eugene. Surely 
 this youthful bridegroom might reckon upon happiness ! Again 
 Lady Madeleine recurred to him. Suddenly he observed a won- 
 derlul appearance in the sky. The moon was paled in the high 
 heavens, and surrounded by luminous rings — almost as vividly 
 tinted as the rainbow — spreading and growing fainter, till they 
 covered nearly half the firmament. It was a glorious, and almost 
 imprecedented halo ! 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The sun rose red, the air was thick and hot. Anticipating that 
 the day would be very oppressive, Vivian and Essper were on their 
 horses' backs at an early hour. Already, however, many of the 
 rustic revellers were about, and preparations were commencing for 
 the fete champetre, which tliis day was to close the wedding festi- 
 vities. Many and sad Avere the looks which Essper George cast 
 behind him, at the old castle on the lake. " l\o good luck can 
 come of it! " said he to his horse; for Vivian did not encourage 
 conversation. " O ! master of mine, when wilt thou know the 
 meaning of good quarters! To leave such a place, and at such a 
 time ! Why, Turriparva was nothing to it ! The day before mar- 
 riage, and the hour before death, is when a man thinks least of 
 his purse, and most of his neighbour. O ! man, man, what art 
 thou, that the eye of a girl can make thee so pass all discretion, 
 that thou wilt sacrifice for the whim of a moment, good cheer 
 enough to make thee last an age ! " 
 
 Vivian had intended to stop and breakfast, after riding about 
 ten miles ; but he had not proceeded half that way, when, from 
 the extreme sultriness of the morning, he found it impossible 
 to advance without refreshment. JMax, also, to his rider's sur- 
 prise, was much distressed ; and, on turning round to his ser- 
 vant, Vivian found Essper's hack panting and puffing, and break- 
 ing out, as if, instead of commoucuig their day's work, they 
 were near reaching their point of destination. 
 
 " Why, how now, Essper ? One would think that we had been 
 riding all night. What ails the beast ? " 
 
 " In truth, sir, that which ails its rider ; the poor dumb brute 
 has more sense than some who have the gift of speech. Who ever 
 henrd of a horse leaving good quarters without much regretting the 
 indiscretion ? " 
 
 " The closeness of the air is so oppressive, that I do not wonder 
 
VIVIAN GEEY. 429 
 
 at even Max being distressed. Perhaps when the sun is higher, 
 and has cleared away the vapours, it may be more endurable : as 
 it is, I think we had better stop at once, and breakfast here. This 
 wood is as inviting as, I trust, are the contents of your basket! " 
 
 " St. Florian devour them ! " said Essper, in a very pious voice, 
 " if I agree not with you, sir ; and as for the basket, although we 
 have left the land of milk and honey, by the blessing of our Black 
 Lady ! I have that within it, which would put courage in the heart 
 of a caught mouse. Although we may not breakfast on bride- 
 cake and beccaficos, yet is a neat's tongue better than a fox's 
 tail ; and I have ever held a bottle of Rhenish to be superior to 
 rain-water, even though the element be filtered through a gutter. 
 Nor, by All Saints ! have I forgotten a bottle of Kerchen Wasser, 
 from the Black Forest ; nor a keg of Dantzic brandy, a glass of 
 which, when travelling at night, I am ever accustomed to take 
 after my prayers ; for I have always observed, that though devo- 
 tion doth sufficiently wai'm up the soul, the body all the time is 
 rather the colder for stopping under a tree to tell its beads." 
 
 The travellers, accordingly, led their horses a few yards into 
 the wood, and soon met, as they had expected, with a small green 
 glade. — It was surrounded, except at the slight opening by which 
 they had entered it, with fine Spanish chestnut trees ; which now, 
 loaded with their large brown fruit, rich and ripe, clustered in the 
 starry foliage, afforded a retreat as beautiful to the eye, as its 
 shade was grateful to their senses. Vivian dismounted, and 
 stretching out his legs, leant back against the trunk of a tree : 
 and Essper, having fastened Max and his own horse to some 
 branches, proceeded to display his stores. Vivian was silent, 
 thoughtful, and scarcely tasted anything : Essper George, on the 
 contrary, was in unusual and even troublesome spirits ; and had 
 not his appetite necessarily produced a few pauses in his almost 
 perpetual rattle, the patience of his master would have been fairly 
 worn out. At length Essper had devoured the whole supply ; and 
 as Vivian not only did not encourage his remarks, but even in a 
 peremptory manner had desired his silence, he was fain to amuse 
 himself by trying to catch in his mouth a large brilliant fly, which 
 every instant was dancing before him. Two individuals, more sin- 
 gularly contrasting in their appearance than the master and the 
 servant, could scarcely be conceived; and Vivian lying with his 
 back against a tree, with his legs stretched out, his arms folded, 
 and his eyes fixed on the ground ; and Essper, though seated, in 
 perpetual motion, and shifting his posture Avitli feverish restless- 
 ness — now looking over his shoulder for tlic fly, then making au 
 imsuccessful bite at it, and then wearied witli his frequent iailures, 
 amusin"" himself with actinjr Punch with his thumbs — altogether 
 
430 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 presented two figures, which might have been considered as not inapt 
 peraouifications of the rival systems of Ideality and Materialism. 
 
 At leng'th Essper became silent for the sake of variety ; and 
 imagining from his master's example, that there must be some 
 sweets in meditation hitherto undiscovered by him, he imitated 
 Vivian's posture ! So perverse is human nature, that the moment 
 Vivian was aware that Essper was perfectly silent, he began to feel 
 an inclination to converse with him. 
 
 " Why, Essper ! " said he, looking up and smiling, " this is the 
 first time during our acquaintance, that I have ever seen thought 
 upon your brow. What can now be puzzling your wild brain?" 
 
 " I was thinking, sir," said Essper, with a very solemn look, " that 
 if there were a deceased field-mouse here, I would moralise on 
 death." 
 
 " What ! turned philosopher ! " 
 
 " Ay ! sir — it appears to me," said he, taking up a husk which 
 lay on the turf, " that there is not a nut-shell in Christendom, 
 which may not become matter for very grave meditation!" 
 
 " Can you expound that ?" 
 
 " Verily, sir, the whole philosophy of life seems to me to consist 
 in discovering the kernel. When you see a courtier out of favour, 
 or a merchant out of credit — when you see a soldier without pil- 
 lage, a sailor without prize money, and a lawyer without papers — a 
 bachelor with nephews, and an old maid Avitli nieces — be assured 
 the nut is not worth the cracking, and send it to the winds, as I do 
 this husk at present." 
 
 " Why, Essper ! " said Vivian laughing, " considering that you 
 have taken your degree so lately, you wear the Doctor's cap with 
 authority ! Instead of being in your noviciate, one would think 
 that you had been a philosopher long enough to have outlived 
 your system." 
 
 " Bless you, sir, for philosophy, I sucked it in with my mother's 
 milk. Nature then gave me the hint, whicli I have ever since 
 acted on ; and I hold, that the sum of all learning consists in 
 milking sm other man's cow. So much for the recent acquisition 
 of my philosophy ! I gained it, you see, sir, with the first wink of 
 my eye ; and though I lost a great portion of it by sea-sickness in 
 the Mediterranean, nevertheless, since I served your Lordship, I 
 have resumed my old habits ; and do opine that this vain globe is 
 but a large foot-ball, to be kicked and cufl'od about by moody 
 philosophers! " 
 
 " You must have seen a great deal in your life, Essper," said 
 Vivian. 
 
 " Like all great travellers," said Essper, " I have seen more 
 than I remember, and remember more than I have seen." 
 
VIVIAN GREY, 431 
 
 " Have you any objection to go to the East again ? " asked Vivian . 
 "It would require but little persusasiou to lead me there." 
 
 " I would rather go to a place where the religion is easier ; I 
 wish, sir, you would take me to England ! " 
 
 " Naj, not there with me — if with others." 
 
 "With you — or with none." 
 - " I cannot conceive, Essper, what can induce you to tie up 
 your fortunes with those of such a sad looking personage as 
 myself." 
 
 " In truth, sir, there is no accounting for tastes. My grand- 
 mother loved a brindled cat ! " 
 
 "Your grandmother, Essper! Nothing would amuse me more 
 than to be introduced to your family." 
 
 " My family, sir, are nothing more nor less than what all of us 
 must be counted — worms of five feet long — mortal angels — the 
 world's epitome — heaps of atoms, which Nature has kneaded with 
 blood into solid flesh — little worlds of living clay — sparks of heaven 
 — inches of earth — Nature's quintessence — moving dust — the little 
 all — smooth-faced cherubim, in whose souls the King of stars has 
 drawn the image of himself!" 
 
 " And how many years has breathed the wonn of five feet long, 
 that I am now speaking to ? " 
 
 " Good, my Lord, I was no head at calculating from a boy ; 
 but I do remember that I am two days older than one of the 
 planets." 
 
 "How is that?" 
 
 " There was one born in the sky, sir, the day I was christened, 
 with a Turkish crescent." 
 
 " Come, Essper," said Vivian, who was rather interested by the 
 conversation ; Essper having, until this morning, skilfully avoided 
 any discourse upon the subject of his birth or family, adroitly 
 turning the conversation whenever it chanced to approach these 
 subjects, and silencing inquiries, if commenced, by some ludicrous 
 and evidently fictitious answer. " Come, Essper," said Vivian, " I 
 feel by no means in the humour to quit this shady retreat. You 
 and I have now known each other long, and gone through much 
 together. It is but fiiir that I should become better acquainted 
 with one who, to me, is not only a faithful servant, but what is 
 more valuable, a faithful friend — I might now almost add, my only 
 one. What say you to whiling away a passing hour, by giving me 
 some sketch of your curious and adventurous life. If there be 
 anything that you wish to conceal pass it over ; but no inven- 
 tion ; nothing but the truth, if you please — the whole truth, if you 
 like." 
 
 " Why, sweet sir, as for this odd knot of soul and body, which 
 
432 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 none but the hand of Heaven could have twined, it was first seen, 
 I believe, near the very spot where we are now sitting; for my 
 mother, when I saw her first, and last, lived in Bohemia. She 
 was an Egyptian, and came herself from the Levant. I lived a 
 week, sir, in the Seraglio, when I was at Constantinople, and I saw 
 there the brightest women of all countries ; Georgians and Cir- 
 cassians, and Poles; in truth, sir, nature's masterpieces; and yet, 
 by the Gods of all nations ! there was was not one of them half 
 so lovely as the lady who gave me this tongue ! " Here Essper 
 exhibited, at full length, the enormous feature which had so much 
 enraged the one-eyed serjeant at Frankfort. 
 
 " When I first remember myself," he continued, " I was playing 
 •^ith some other gipsy-boys in the midst of a forest. Here was 
 our settlement ! It was large and powerful. My mother, proba- 
 bly from her beauty, possessed great influence, particularly among 
 the men ; and yet I found not among them all, a father. On the 
 contrary, every one of my companions had a man Vy-hom he re- 
 verenced as his parent, and who taught him to steal ; but I was 
 called by the whole tribe, the mother-son — and was honest, from 
 my first year, out of mere v/ilfulness ; at least, if I stole anything 
 it was always from our own people. Many were the quarrels I 
 occasioned ; since, presuming on my mother's love and power, I 
 never called mischief a scrape ; but acting just as my fancy took 
 me, I left those who suflered by my conduct to apologise for my 
 ill-behaviour. Being thus an idle, unprofitable, impudent, and in- 
 jurious member of this pure community, they determined one day 
 to cast me out from their bosom ; and in spite of my mother's ex- 
 ertions and entreaties, the ungrateful vipers succeeded in their 
 purpose. As a compliment to my pai'ent, they allowed me to 
 tender my resignation, instead of receiving my expulsion. My 
 dear mother gave me a donkey, a wallet, and a ducat, a great deal 
 of advice about my future conduct, and, what was more interesting* 
 to me, much information about my birth. 
 
 " 'S^veet child of my womb!' said my mother, pressing me to 
 her bosom ; ' be proud of thy white hands and straight nose ! 
 Thou gottest them not from me, and thou shalt take them from 
 whence they came. Thy father is a Hungarian Prince ; and 
 though I would not have parted with thee, had I thought that thou 
 wouldst ever have prospered in our life — even if he had made thee 
 his child of the law, and lord of his castle — still, as thou canst not 
 tarry with us, haste thou to him ! Give him this ring* and this lock 
 of hair ; tell him, none have seen them but tlic father, the mother, 
 and tlie child! He will look on tlicm, and remember the days that 
 are past; and tliou shall be unto him as a hope for his lusty 
 years, and a prop for his old ago ! ' 
 
VrVIAN GREY. 433 
 
 " My mother gave me all necessary directions, which I -well 
 remembered ; and much more advice, which I directly forgot. 
 
 " Although tempted, now that I was a free man, to follow my 
 own fancy, I still was too curious to see what kind of a person 
 was my unknown father, to deviate either from my route, or my 
 maternal instructions, and in a fortnight's time I had reached my 
 future Principality. 
 
 " The Sun sunk behind the proud castle of my princely father ; 
 as, trotting slowly along upon my humble beast, with my wallet 
 slung at my side, I approached it through his park. A guard, 
 consisting of twenty or thirty men in magnificent uniforms, were 
 
 lounging at the portal. I but, six-, sii", what is the meaning of 
 
 this darkness ? I always made a vow to myself that I never 
 would tell my history. Ah ! what ails me ? " 
 
 A large eagle fell dead at their feet. 
 
 " Protect me, master ! " screamed Essper, seizing Vivian by the 
 shoulder, " what is coming ? I cannot stand — the earth seems to 
 tremble ! Is it the wind that roars and rages ? or is it ten thousand 
 cannon blowing this globe to atoms ? " 
 
 '• It is — it must be the wind ! " said Vivian, agitated. " We 
 are not safe under these trees: look to the horses! 
 
 " I will," said Essper, " if I can stand. Out of the forest ! 
 All, look at Max!" 
 
 Vivian turned, and beheld his spirited horse raised on his hind 
 legs, and dashing his fore feet against the trunk of a tree to 
 which they had tied him. The terrified and furious creature was 
 struggling to disengage himself, and would probably have sus- 
 tained, or inflicted, some terrible injury, had not the wind 
 suddenly hushed. Covered with foam, he stood panting, while 
 Vivian patted and encouraged him. Essper's less spirited beast 
 had, from the first, crouched upon the earth, covered with sweat, 
 his limbs quivering, and his tongue hanging out. 
 
 " blaster ! " said Essper, " what shall we do ? Is there any 
 chance of getting back to the castle ? I am sure our very lives 
 are in danger. See that tremendous cloud ! It looks like eternal 
 night ! Whither shall we go — what shall we do ? " 
 
 " Make for the castle ! " said Vivian, mounting. 
 
 They had just got into the road when another terrific gust of 
 wind nearly took them off their horses, and blinded them with 
 the clouds of sand which it drove out of the crevices of the 
 mountains. 
 
 They looked round on every side, and Hope gave way before 
 the scene of desolation. Immense branches were shivered from 
 the largest trees ; small ones were entirely stripped of their leaves ; 
 the long grass was bowed to the earth ; the waters were whirled iu 
 
 28 
 
434 VIVIAN GREY. 
 
 eddies out of the little rivulets ; birds deserting: their nests to 
 seek shelter in the crevices of the rocks, unable to stem the 
 driving air, flapped their wings, and fell upon the eartli : the 
 frightened animals in the plain, almost suffocated by the im- 
 petuosity of the wind, sought safety, and found destruction : 
 some of the largest trees were torn up by the roots ; the sluices 
 of the mountains were filled, and innumerable torrents rushed 
 down the before- empty guUeys. The Heavens now open, and 
 lightning and thunder contend with the horrors of the wind ! 
 
 In a moment all was again hushed. Dead silence succeeded 
 the bellov/ of the thunder — the roar of the wind — the rush of the 
 waters — the moaning of the beasts — the screaming of the birds ! 
 Nothing was heard, save the splash of the agitated lake, as it 
 beat up against the black rocks which girt it in. 
 
 " Master ! " again said Essper, " is this the day of doom ? " 
 
 " Keep by my side, Essper ; keep close, make the best of this 
 ause : let us but reach the village ! " 
 
 Scarcely had Vivian spoken when greater darkness enveloped the 
 trembling earth. Again the heavens were rent with lightning, 
 which nothing could have quenched but the descending deluge. 
 Cataracts poured down from the lowering firmament. In an 
 instant the horses dashed round ; beast and rider, blinded and 
 stifled by the gushing rain, and gasping- for breath. Slielter was 
 nowhere. The quivering beasts reared, and snorted, and sunk 
 upon their knees. The horsemen were dismounted. Vivian suc- 
 ceeded in hood-winking Max, who was still furious : the other 
 horse appeared nearly exhausted. Essper, beside himself with 
 terror, could only hang over his neck. 
 
 Another awful calm. 
 
 "Courage, Essper!" said Vivian. "We are still safe: look 
 up, man ! the storm cannot last long thus ; and see ! I am sure 
 the clouds are breaking." 
 
 The heavy mass of vapour which had seemed to threaten the 
 earth with instant destruction suddenly parted. The red and 
 lurid San was visible, but his light and heat M'ere quenched in the 
 still impending waters. 
 
 " Mount, Essper !" said Vivian, "this is our only chance ; five 
 minutes" good speed will take us to the village." 
 
 Encouraged by his master's example, Essper once more got 
 upon his horse ; and the panting animals, relieved by the cessation 
 of tlie hurricane, carried them at a fair pace towards the viHage, 
 considering that their road was now impedetl by the overflowing 
 of the lake. 
 
 " Master !" said Essper, " cannot we get out of these waters?" 
 
 lie had scarcely spoken before a terrific burst — a noise, they 
 
VIVIAN GKEY. 435 
 
 knew not what — a rusli they could not understand — a vibration 
 which shook tliem on their horses — made thera start hack, and 
 again dismount. Every terror sunk before the appalling- roar 
 of the cataract. It seemed that the mighty mountain, unable to 
 support its weight of waters, shook to the foundation. A lake 
 had burst on its summit, and the cataract became a falling Ocean. 
 The source of the great deep appeared to be discharging itself 
 over the range of mountains ; the great grey peak tottered on its 
 foundations! It shook! — it fell! — and buried in its ruins, the 
 castle, the village, and the bridge ! 
 
 Vivian with starting eyes beheld the whole washed away ; in- 
 stiuct gave him energy to throw himself on the back of his horse — 
 a breath — and he had leaped up the nearest hill! Essper George, 
 in a state of distraction, was madly laughing as he climbed to 
 the top of a high tree : his horse was carried off in the drowning 
 waters, which had now reached the road. 
 
 "The desolation is complete!" thought Vivian. At this mo- 
 ment the wind again rose — the rain again descended — the heavens 
 again opened — the lightning again flashed! — An amethystine 
 flame liung upon rocks and waters, and through the raging 
 elements a yellow fork darted its fatal point at Essper's resting 
 place. The tree fell ! Vivian's horse, with a maddened snort, 
 dashed down the hill ; his master, senseless, clung to his neck ; the 
 frantic animal was past all government — he stood upright in the 
 air — flung his rider — and fell dead ! 
 
 Here leave we Vivian ! It was my wish to have detailed, in 
 the present portion of this work, the singular adventures which 
 befel him in one of the most delightful of modern cities — 
 light-hearted Vienna! But his history has expanded under 
 my pen, and I fear that I have, even now, too much pre- 
 sumed upon an attention which I am not entitled to command. 
 1 am, as yet, but standing without the gate of the Garden of Ro- 
 mance. True it is, that as I gaze through the ivory bars of its 
 Golden Portal, I would fain believe that, following my roving- 
 fancy, I might arrive at some green retreats hitherto unexplored, 
 and loiter among some leafy bowers where none have lingered 
 before me. But tliese expectations may be as vain as those 
 dreams of Youth over which all have mourned. The 'Disappoint- 
 ment of Manhood succeeds to tbe delusion of Youth : let us 
 hope that the heritage of Old Age is not Despair ! 
 
 London: Printed by Woocfall and Kinder, Angel Couit, Skiimci Street. 
 
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