I am not sorry for it) I have none of the blood of the murderer of young Rutland in my veins.-My immediate ancestors spring from Sir William De Clifford, son to Roger Lord Clifford a baron of the time of King Richard the Second. I mention Sir William in particular, because from his marriage with one of the co-heiresses of the unfortunate Lord Bardolfe, of Shakesperian, as well as historic memory, he becanie possessed of the lordship and castle of Bardolfe, in the parish of that name, in the north, where I first drew breath, and where the wreck of our family, shorn of its beams, have continued sinking ever since.

Here the line of Bardolfe flourished as barons summoned to Parliament, till Thomas, fifth baron, the friend of old Northumberland, perished with him in the battle of Bramham Moor, fighting for York against Henry IV. Moreover, though his death in the field deprived him of the honor of losing his head with the Mowbrays and Nevilles, after the battle, a noble revenge was glutted in regard to his body, by quartering what were called his rebel limbs, and exposing then on the gates of London, York, Lynn, and Shrewsbury, while his head ornamented that of London.

But, how little did this high lineage, and this honorable fate, avail his descendants! His attainder and forfeitures reduced the family; and though the castle, and part of the estate of Bardolfe, was restored to my female ancestress on her marriage with Sir William De Clifford, yet it was so diminished in value, and Sir William, being a younger brother, was so little distinguished by the gifts of fortune, that he could not hold up his head with the rest of the Cliffords. Even they are now all dissipated, the heirs male of the original barony being long ago extinct; and, though both titles and fortune bave been carried by females into other illustrious families, the old name itself of De Clifford is nearly lost in the same obscurity in which our branch of it has so long continued.*

From this account of our fate, it will not be surprising that all intercourse between ourselves and our high relations had for a very long time been entirely dropped; we did not well

* As I trace only from the ancient barony, to which alone I allude, no mention is made of that other barony of Clifford of Chudleigh, a creation of Charles II.

know even to whom we belonged; the posterity of Sir William De Clifford almost becaine Bardolfes, and, lowering by degrees to almost nothing, continued in the village where the heads of that name had originally flourished, while the castle and manor of Bardolfe had long passed by sale into other bands.

Thus, with all his ancient blood, my father was, in substance, scarcely more than a farmer-a gentleman farmer indeed, with a better title to armorial bearings than almost all his rich neighbors, who yet looked down upon him as, at the very best, that mortified, though not always humbled character, a "decayed gentleman."

Yet, as if to mock him the more, as his very small estate, the remnant of former times, was his own, he was designated, in the language of the northern province where it lay, by the high-sounding title of Statesman. What sort of honors belonged to that title may be imagined by the southern reader, when he learns that the possessor of a freehold of twenty, nay of ten pounds a year, enjoys that denomination among his simple neighbors.

The family had so long gone down hill, that my father had quietly descended with it into the class, and almost into the character, of mere yeomen. Had he done so entirely, and not cast, as he sometimes, though seldom, did, a longing look to what his progenitors had been, he would, perhaps, have been happier. But luckily these interruptions came not often, and did not last long.

Our name, which had been for centuries on the grand jury, was not yet struck out, and my father was summoned regularly, as if still one of the squirearchy. It was then that a sort of struggle between pride and prudence commenced, in which pride, for the time, generally got the better: for he always attended, and was always mortified.

Though upon the grand jury, not being a proper subject for the commission, he was the only one of them not included in the invitations to dinner given in open court by the judge; and when the jury advanced with their presentments, with their rich and titled foreman at their head, he was seen among them, hesitating, alarmed, and bashful, and evidently sustaining a struggle of hurt feelings. He wished to show himself to the court, and the notice of the county, but allow

ed every one that pleased to push before him, so that he could not be seen. Or if he ever obtained a place to be observed, it was only by entreaty, which yet it hurt him to make.. While in the discharge of duty, his brother jury men were not uncivil, and he felt some little consequence; but the assizes over, he was instantly extinguished, and returned to peace and obscurity at home. The first of these my father found so valuable, that he frequently vowed never again to hazard it, by attending another assizes; but the vow was always broken, and he agreed with my mother (herself of an origin. somewhat better than plebeian, being the daughter of the younger son of a knight), that the pretensions of the blood of the De Cliffords and Bardolfes ought not to be sacrificed without a struggle.

There was, however, another reason that told in producing this feeling. I have said we had descended in the scale of gentility, but it was by degrees. At the Revolution, my great-grandfather was of no mean consideration among the Yorkshire Whigs, and owned the castle which gave us one of our names, though he sold it, in the end, to make good a large portion to his only sister, who married into a very noble family. This was so flattering to his pride, that he agreed to give her a fortune far beyond his means, to the still further reduction of the funds of his posterity. Nor did he reap the advantages he hoped from the connexion; for the figure and fortune of the two families being so unequal, they first grew cool, and then were absolutely estranged from one another; so that my grandfather had no intercourse with his aunt's family, and dying when my father was an infaut, and there being no maiden cunt to keep up remembrances, the very name of these high relatives seemed even then almost forgotten.

A week, however, generally restored my father to himself, and forgetting the gentleman in the farmer, he returned, as I have observed, to obscurity, and his usual occupatious.

Luckily these gave him iittle time to reflect upon any thing but bow to turn them best to account, in support of a numerous family, which, statesman as he was, forced him to eke out his ncome by renting a considerable farm under Sir Harry Goff, the squire of the neighboring parish.

This gentleman's family was the highest in degree with which we had any intercourse, though that of Hastings, to

whose ancestors the old castle and manor of Bardolfe had passed, by the sale I have mentioned, above a century before, were of higher descent, and of infinitely higher fashion and condition. They, however resided in a distant part of the country, and, for some years at least, I knew nothing of them. but their name. The castle, indeed, bad, all but one tower, long been in ruins, like its former owners; and though very picturesque and romantic, frowning from the top of a steep bank which rose abruptly from the river (also bearing our name), it afforded no temptation, because without accommodation, for any of the present owners to visit it.

What was left of it besides this tower were mere perforated walls, held together only by the tough embraces of the ivy and caucus; yet, there was a "sullen dignity" about this old place, which, with other reasons, made it my absolute delight. But I am yet scarcely born, so must not anticipate.

I had several brothers (for my mother was more prolific than rich); and a child once a year, for five years together, did not add much to the means of the Statesman. My brothers, however, had huge limbs and healthy stomachs-which latter by no means regarded the coarse porridge and milk of the north as an evil. In short, they all grew and waxed strong, and gave our parents little uneasiness on the score of health.

They were all rather favorites with the Goff family, and the good-natured Sir Harry (who derived bis fortune and descent only from a rich clothier), in his secret mind, could not help showing us much consideration on account of our blood.

The truth is, that Sir Harry and his wife and family, though very independent as to money, were not at all so as to their position in life. With many sterling qualities, they spoiled all, by quitting what they were (plain country folks), to be what they were not, denizens of fashion.

In this they lavished more money than taste. Sir Harry's common sense was rendered inefficient by a factitious fondness for the arts, and what he called literature, of neither of which he knew much; and his wife and daughters thought fashion consisted in being always over-dressed, and talking what they called French.

All this dazzled their country neighbors, whatever it might

do the people they copied; and as in other respects they had a sort of general familiarity of manner, they were not without consideration in the country, and were even popular.

For my own part, I at first thought them demi-gods, preferring their manners and appearance at least to all others about me; and I especially had a high opinion of their learning, on the strength of a considerable library which Sir Harry had collected, though no scholar, and from the young ladies often talking a language I did not understand. For I was always, I know not why, unlike other boys, and very unlike indeed to my elder brothers; being fond of poring over whatever books I could get, while they sported with Sir Harry, or assisted our father in the superintendence of the farm. But as for me, from a child, I had a sort of world of my own, which I peopled with images of my own fancy; sometimes grand, sometimes grotesque, sometimes more common-place; making them, however, always to tell stories to myself, which quite satisfied me for the want of other companions; so that though I was often solitary, I was never alone.

In short, I became a kind of character, for such an urchin, and as I grew up, one of the Miss Goffs, who read poetry, said I was, like poorEdwin,

"No vulgar boy;

Deep thought oft seemed to fix my infant eye,
Dainties I heeded not, nor gaude, nor toy,

Save one short pipe of rudest minstrelsy."

I could myself carry on her comparison with Edwin, which made me not a little proud, for I was, certainly,

"Silent when glad; affectionate though shy; And now my look was most demurely sad ;

And now I laugh'd aloud, yet none knew why:

The neighbors stared and sigh'd, yet blessed the lad;

Some deem'd him wond'rous wise, and some believ'd him mad."

One thing indeed inclined my good parents to indulge this quieter disposition of mine. I was the only one of the family who had not strong health. I was even weak in body and limbs, and in these respects inferior to my sturdy brothers; so I was allowed to lounge with a book under a tree, or in a garden of most antique taste, occupied by a hind who had charge of the old walls of the castle.

* The Minstrel.