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showing him little authoritative annoyances whenever it was in their power. At Truro they determined to saddle him with a parish apprentice. He resisted and appealed in vain. Finding his efforts abortive, he removed all his furniture to Helston, and left a note for the mayor and justices appended to the keyhole of his house,

Gentlemen, your blunderbuss has missed fire."

"Your's, JOHN WOLCOT."

It was while resident at Truro, that the doctor took Opie out of the sawpit as he phrased it. He was visiting St. Agnes, a hamlet about seven miles west of that town, and was shewn some wretched attempts at drawing. One picture was designed to represent a farm-yard, the other a cat. The doctor told me that he did not observe a particle of genius in either, but he was informed that they were the unaided efforts of the carpenter's son, whose house he had just entered, and that the lad worked hard to do what he had performed, shewing a great desire to learn to "dra" as it was expressed. The boy was called out of the sawpit at the Doctor's request. "When," said Wolcot, "I was struck with his ardent desire to improve himself in the art, not by what he had executed. The boy seemed to give it his whole heart, and it was that which fixed me in doing what I could to aid him." The boy's parents discouraged him, and did not think he was good for much, Wolcot's instructions soon made his merit apparent. Nothing could be more kind and considerate than his treatment of this "rough diamond," as he used to call Opie. When he had made a sufficient progress from Wolcot's instructions, the latter gave him letters of introduction to the gentlemen of the county, and the artist set out on a tour of portrait-painting. The doctor, who loved art for its own sake, stipulated that Opie should be treated as a gentleman, and received as a parlour guest. "I want to polish him; he is an unlicked cub yet. I wish to make him respect himself. Therefore, wherever he has visited, he has been treated as a gentleman." In only one instance, that of a clergyman, was Opie otherwise received than as a parlour guest-this was wise and considerate of his patron. Although young Opie was unpolished, he had nothing of the grossness of vulgarity about him. His strong mind was at all times sufficient to direct him as to propriety of conduct. This is an answer to some biographies of the painter, which state what is not the fact. Opie first painted heads at five shillings, and then raised his price to ten and sixpence, while he was in the doctor's house at Truro. After his first travelling expedition through the county, he brought back twenty guineas, clear of all his expenses, in his eyes a wonderful sum. He first flung the money upon the doctor's table, looked at it a moment with a sort of rapture, then swept it off upon the carpet, and rolled himself over it, exclaiming "here I be rolling in gold.'

Opie's first efforts without judgment or experience were remarkable for boldness and truth of colouring, but little else. In colouring, except Reynolds, he was soon superior to any artist of his time. His drawing was incorrect, and of the taste and tact he afterwards acquired, he exhibited nothing; still his colouring was magical. Such was the statement of Wolcot, and there was no better judge. The doctor himself seldom painted in oil, he preferred crayons, with which he worked very effectively. "No better representation of the earth can be made than with earth itself," was his excuse, when he would give a reason for this preference.

HARRY COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP, AND WHAT

CAME OF IT.

BY FRANK FAIRLEGH.

(Continued from vol. 1, page 261.)

CHAPTER XII.

HARRY PUTS HIS FOOT IN IT.

THE moment Harry reseated himself at the dining-table, two of his old college friends placed themselves beside him, and plunging at once into recollections of auld-lang-syne completely monopolised him. He was roused at length from an interesting reminiscence of how gloriously drunk Jones of Maudlin had been at Tippleton's wine-party (when he would sing a pathetic ballad, beginning "There's a wail on the mountain," and was stopped by a roar of laughter chorusing the enquiry, "how the dl it (the whale) got there?")-by hearing his own name eagerly pronounced-the speaker was Mr. Hazlehurst. "Excuse my interrupting your conversation for a few minutes, Mr. Coverdale, but we want your opinion. You've travelled and seen the working of different tariff regulations, and had opportunities of comparing the prosperity of other nations with that of our own, while at the same time you are a sufficiently large landed proprietor to give you a stake in the country, and to induce you to feel a strong interest in the general prospects of the agricultural population. I am sure you must agree with me in considering protection a most essential and salutary

measure."

"If I might be allowed to make just one observation before Mr. Coverdale favours us with his views on this important question," insinuated Mr. Crane, in the mildest and most affectionate tone of voice imaginable, wine always reducing this excellent man to a state of weak and inappropriate philanthropy-" if I might observe, that with the highest respect for, and admiration of, the agricultural population of this great country, I feel it incompatible with my feelings as a Protestant Christian, and therefore so to speak, in a general way as a brother, and more particularly as a mill-owner, to forget the thousands of operatives who crowd our large cities, and when filled with cheap bread, add to the dignity and prosperity of the nation; but on the contrary, when deprived of this means of support, object to resign themselves to the dispensations of a benignant Providence, and fly in the face of society as chartists, levellers, red-republicans, and all that is dangerous and subversive of morality and security of property. If I may so far presume as to call Mr. Coverdale's attention, to the desirableness of providing food at a rate which will enable the manufacturing classes to exist without constantly working themselves up into a state of illegal desperation, I shall feel that I have, if I may be allowed the expression, unburthened my conscience"-thus saying, Mr. Crane, cast a timid and appealing look from Harry to his host, and sipped a glass of Burgundy with the air of a man apologising for some misdeed.

"It is not a subject upon which I have ever expended any vast amount of consideration," began Coverdale, wishing in his secret soul, that he

had the feeding of Mr. Crane for the ensuing six months, in which case that gentleman would probably have had an opportunity of practically testing the merits of very cheap bread indeed, and of nothing else, except perhaps cold spring water; "but the common sense of the matter appears to lie in a nut-shell-the two great divisions of the poorer classes, are the manufacturing poor and the agricultural poorthe manufacturers being the most numerous-to sacrifice one to the other is unfair, but to offer up the greater to the less is ridiculous-free trade has had a fair trial, and is proved to benefit the masses, though it lies heavily on the land-owners ;-well then, relieve land of its burthens, and change the income tax into a permanent property tax to re-emburse the exchequer that's the line I should take if I were Premier, which thank Heaven I'm not."

As Harry concluded, two or three men began to speak at once, but Mr. Hazlehurst, by a solemn wave of the hand, immediately silenced them. That excellent magistrate had drank more wine than was by any means good for him-his constitution was gouty, and he had not had a fit for some time; before such attacks he was usually as irritable as though his brain were a hedgehog, and society at large a wirehaired terrier attempting to unroll it-claret was the most unwholesome wine he could take, and on the evening in question, he had imbibed nearly a bottle thereof, but of all this dessous des cartes, Harry was innocently unconscious.

"I beg your pardon gentlemen," began Mr. Hazlehurst solemnly, "but the right of reply at present rests with myself. Moreover, if my ears did not deceive me, Mr. Coverdale has made an observation which I must call upon him either to explain or retract; but in the first place, let me express my surprise and regret, Sir," here he addressed himself pointedly to Harry, "that a young man in your position, a large landed proprietor, a lover of field sports, possessing a practical knowledge of land, and a personal acquaintance with the habits and customs of the agricultural poor, the bone and sinews of our country, should thus turn against and betray the interests of the class to which he belongs, and league himself with those who would, in their shortsightedness, sap the vitals of that free and independent character which has made us the great nation that we are. With regard to the observation to which I alluded, I believe, that having stigmatised the opinions I hold as a sacrifice of the greater to the less, you deliberately pronounced them ridiculous. Have I not repeated your words correctly?" "I certainly said that to sacrifice the greater number to the less would be ridiculous," returned Harry, completely taken aback at this sudden and unexpected accusation, "but I only meant

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"You meant what you said, I presume?" interposed Mr. Hazlehurst, in the magisterial tone of voice in which he was accustomed to crossexamine and be down upon equivocating poachers.

"Of course I did," returned Harry, his eyes flashing as he observed a sarcastic smile upon the face of Horace D'Almayne-"I always mean what I say, but my remark related solely to general principles, and had not the smallest reference to you, personally, Sir."

"Which is equivalent to saying, that I do not understand the common meaning of words," returned Mr. Hazlehurst in the same irritating tone of voice. "Really Mr. Coverdale your explanations do not tend to do away with the unfavourable impression your observation forced upon me."

"It is equivalent to nothing of the kind Sir," rejoined Harry, losing his temper; "but if you choose to put a wrong construction upon everything I say, it is useless for me to discuss the matter further with

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At this critical moment, Tom Hazlehurst who had been listening with a countenance of blank dismay to the altercation between his father and his friend, contrived either by accident or design to throw down and break a valuable china plate. This incident created a diversion by calling forth an outburst of parental wrath, under cover whereof, Harry regained sufficient self-control to enable him to suppress the word "wrong-headed," with which he had been on the point of concluding his sentence. At the same time Mr. Crane, having a mortal antipathy to anything like quarrelling, which, as he said, produced "an insalubrious agitation of his nervous system," or, in plain English, frightened him out of his wits, suggested that they should join the ladies-which proposal led to a general move. Five minutes reflection in an atmosphere less oppressive than that of the heated dining-room caused Harry to perceive that, in having allowed himself to be provoked by the obstinacy of a pig-headed and slightly tipsy old gentleman into even a momentary forgetfulness of the respect due to Mr. Hazlehurst's years and position, he had acted wrongly and foolishly. It moreover, occurred to him now that it was too late to be of the slightest use, that, by this unfortunate disagreement he had completely neutralised any influence he might have possessed with his host, and thus, in fact, frustrated the whole purpose of his visit, by which means Arthur would be vexed, and the possibility of Alice's marriage with Mr. Crane rather increased than otherwise. Just as he was about to exchange the cool air of the garden (whither, on leaving the dining-room, he had betaken himself) for the less agreeable temperature of a crowded drawing-room, he was patted on the shoulder by one of his college acquaintance.

"Ah, Knighton, what is it man?" observed Harry, wishing his dear friend at Jericho. "I took you for the stem of a tree, you stood so motionless."

"Why the fact is, my dear fellow," returned Knighton, a well-disposed goose who, when Harry first commenced his college career, had formed an enthusiastic attachment for him, in return for which he expected his friend to advise him how to act, and what to say, upon every occasion, trifling as well as important-a tax which even Harry's good-nature found somewhat oppressive, "the fact is, I consider it quite providential, if I may say so, finding you here to-night,-you know I always like to have your opinion before I make up my mind-there is nobody with such good sense as you, at least nobody that I've ever met with. My dear Coverdale, I'm going to take the most importan step, that is if you see no reason against it, which I can scarcely feel a doubt of; but I'll tell you the whole affair, beginning properly at the beginning. When I was down in Hampshire three years ago but we will not inflict Mr. Knighton's amiable prolixity on the reader, suffice it to say, that having linked his arm within that of Coverdale, he paraded his victim up and down a certain gravel walk for the space of at least three-quarters of an hour, while he poured into his ears as dull a tale of true love as ever ran smooth; true love of the very mildest quality which was certain to end simply and naturally in a stupid marriage, about the whole of which affair there could not by possibility

be two opinions. At length when Harry had agreed with everything and to everything at least twice over, and strongly advised his tormentor to act as he felt certain he would have done if his advice had been just the other way, (for this young man although he eagerly sought counsel, by no means considered himself bound to walk thereby), it suddenly occurred to Mr. Knighton that he was doing an unkind thing by his friend, and a rude one by his host in not sooner joining the ladies; according at (literally) the eleventh hour, he exercised thus much selfdenial, viz., having nothing more to say, he said it. When Coverdale

entered the drawing-room he cast round his eyes to discover what might have become of Alice and Mr. Crane, and failing to perceive them was about to find some excuse for making his way into the boudoir beyond, when Emily pounced upon him to entreat him to sing for the edification of some dear Mary Jane or other who was dying to hear him, and the very identical Mary Jane herself seconding the request in a mild, insinuating, bleating tone of voice, as of some bashful but persuasive sheep, there remained nothing for him but to consent, which he did with a very ill grace indeed. Having dashed through a tender and sentimental Italian love-ditty in a ferocious, not to say sanguinary style, he declared he was so hoarse that he could not sing another note, and again made an attempt to enter the boudoir, which he succeeded in reaching, just in time to see Alice quit the room with a heightened colour, and in a manner which betokened hurry and agitation, while Mr. Crane remained gazing after her with a countenance indicative of the deepest and most helpless bewilderment. From these symptoms, Harry rightly conjectured, that while he had been off duty the cotton-spinner had popped; but whether his offer had been accepted or rejected, he was utterly unable to divine. Mr. Crane looked stupid and puzzle-pated, but he was sure to do so in any case. For the rest of the evening, Coverdale was in a fearful state of mind; people stayed late, and it seemed to him as if every body had entered into a league to worry and torment him. First, the young lady who had sat next him at dinner got at him again, and flirted at him so violently, that (his thoughts running entirely on marrying and giving in marriage) he became possessed of a nervous dread lest she should be going to make him an offer-this idea gaining confirmation from its suddenly occurring to him that it was leap-year, he grew desperate, and pretending that Emily had made him promise to sing again, astonished that damsel, by crossing over to inform her that his hoarseness had entirely departed, and that he should have the greatest pleasure in favouring her friend with the song she had wished to hear, for which piece of inconsistency Emily bestowed upon him a glance so penetrating and satirical, that he longed to box her pretty pert little ears for it. When the song was over, Knighton emerged from behind a very broad old lady, somebody's mother-in-law, very far gone in Curaçoa, which she concealed beneath a pious zeal for clothing the natives of Bare-liAragon (an unknown island discovered by Juan de Chuzacruz in the sixteenth century, and forgotten ever since) in the cast-off garments of the Blue-coat School-boys. The moment Knighton got clear of this philanthropic Amazon, he pounced upon Coverdale, and carrying him off to a recess, then and there related to him an uninteresting episode in his amatory career, which was not of the slightest importance either to himself or to any body else, but which took nearly as long to communi

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