must a

at length grow weary, so the vis animi of the human struggler becomes broken down by continued fatigue.

When the voyager was awakened by the light of the sun now riding high in Heaven, he found himself under the influence of an almost intolerable headach, with heat, thirst, shootings across the back and loins, and other symptoms intimating violent cold, accompanied with fever. The manner in which he had passed the preceding day and night, though perhaps it might have been of little Consequence to most young men, was to him, delicate in constitution and nurture, attended with bad and even

perilous consequences. He felt this was the case, yet would fain have combated the symptoms of indisposition, which, indeed, he imputed chiefly to sea-sickness. He sat up on deck, and looked on the scene around, as the little vessel, having borne down the Solway Frith, was beginning, with a favourable northerly breeze, to bear away to the southward, crossing the entrance of the Warpool river, and preparing to double the most northerly point of Cumberland.

But Fairford felt annoyed with deadly sickness, as well as by pain of a distressing and oppressive character; and neither Criffel, rising in majesty on the one hand, nor the distant yet more picturesque outline of Skiddaw and Glaramara upon the other, could attract his attention in the manner in which it was usually fixed by beautiful scenery, and especially that which had in it something new as well as striking. Yet it was not in Alan Fairford's nature to give way to despondence, even when seconded by pain. He had recourse, in the first place, to his pocket; but instead of the little Sallust he had brought with him, that the perusal of a favourite classical author might help to pass away a heavy hour, he pulled out the supposed hymnbook with which he had been presented, a few hours before, by that temperate and scrupulous person, Mr. Thomas Trumbull, alias Turnpenny. The volume was bound in sable, and its exterior might have become a psålter. But what was Alan's astonishment to read on the title-page the following words :-" Merry Thoughts for Merry Men ;

8

VOL. I!.

or, Mother Midnight's Miscellany for the Small Hours;" and turning over the leaves, he was disgusted with profligate tales, and more profligate songs, ornamented with figures corresponding in infamy with the letter-press.

Good God! he thought, and did this hoary reprobate summon his family together, and, with such a disgraceful pledge of infamy in his bosom, venture to approach the throne of his Creator? It must be so; the book is bound after the manner of those dedicated to devotional subjects, and doubtless, the wretch, in his intoxication, confounded the books he carried with him, as he did the days of the week. Seized with the disgust with which the young and generous usually regard the vices of advanced life, Alan, having turned the leaves of the book over in hasty disdain, flung it from him, as far as he could, into the sea. He then had recourse to the Sallust, which he had at first sought for in vain. As he opened the book, Nanty Ewart, who had been looking over his shoulder, made his own opinion heard.

"I think now, brother, if you are so much scandalized at a little piece of sculduddery, which, after all, does nobody any harm, you had better have given it to me than have flung it into the Solway."

"I hope, sir," answered Fairford, civilly, "you are in the habit of reading better books?"

"Faith," answered Nanty," with help of a little Geneva text, I could read my Sallust as well as you can ;" and snatching the book from Alan's hand, he began to read in the Scottish accent:- 66 6 Igitur ex divitiis juventutem luxuria atque avaritia cum superbiâ invasêre : rapere, consumere; sua parvi pendere, aliena cupere; pudorem, amicitiam, pudicitiam, divina atque humana promiscua, nihil pensi neque moderati habere"*-There is a slap in the face now, for an honest fellow that has

The translation of the passage is thus given by Sir Henry Steuart of Allanton.-"The youth, taught to look up to riches as the sovereign good, became apt pupils in the school of Luxury. Rapacity and profusion went hand in hand. Careless of their own fortunes, and eager to possess those of others, shame and remorse, modesty and moderation, every principle gave way."-Works of Sallust, with Original Essays, Vol. II. p. 17.

been bucaniering! Never could keep a groat of what he got, or hold his fingers from what belonged to another; said you? Fie, fie, friend Crispus, thy morals are as crabbed and austere as thy style-the one has as little mercy as the other has grace. By my soul, it is unhandsome to make personal reflections on an old acquaintance, who seeks a little civil intercourse with you after nigh twenty years separation. On my soul, Master Sallust deserves to float on the Solway better than Mother Midnight herself."

"Perhaps, in some respects, he may merit better usage at our hands," said Alan ; "for if he has described vice plainly, it seems to have been for the purpose of rendering it generally abhorred."

"Well," said the seaman, "I have heard of the. Sortes Virgilianæ, and I dare say the Sortes Sallustianæ are as true every tittle. I have consulted honest Crispus on my own account, and have had a cuff for my pains. But now, see I open the book on your behalf, and behold what occurs first to my eye!-Lo you there Catilina ...omnium flagitiosorum atque facinorosorum circum se habebat.' And then again- Etiam si quis à culpá vacuus in amicitiam ejus inciderat, quotidiano usu par similisque cæteris efficiebatur." That is what I call plain speaking on the part of the old Roman, Mr. Fairford. By the way, that is a capital name for a lawyer."

*

"Lawyer as I am," said Fairford, "I do not understand your innuendo."

"Nay, then," said Ewart, "I can try it another way, as well as the hypocritical old rascal Turnpenny himself could do. I would have you to know that I am well acquainted with my Bible-book, as well as with my friend Sallust." He then, in a snuffling and canting tone, began to repeat the scripture text-"David therefore departed thence, and went to the cave Adullam. And every

*After enumerating the evil qualities of Catiline's associates, the author adds," If it happened that any as yet uncontaminated by vice were fatally drawn into his friendship, the effects of intercourse and snares artfully spread, subdued every scruple, and early assimilated them to their conductors."-Ibidem, p. 19.

one that was in distress, and every one that was in debt, and every one that was discontented, gathered themselves together unto him; and he became a captain over them.' What think you of that ?" he said, suddenly changing his manner. "Have I touched you now, sir?"

"You are as far off as ever," replied Fairford. "What the devil! and you a repeating frigate between Summertrees and the Laird! Tell that to the marinesthe sailors won't believe it. But you are right to be cautious, since you can't say who are right, who not.—But you look ill; it's but the cold morning air-Will you have a can of flip, or a jorum of hot rumbo?—or will you splice the main-brace-(showing a spirit-flask)-Will you have a quid-or a pipe-or a segar?-a pinch of snuff, at least, to clear your brains and sharpen your apprehension ?"

Fairford rejected all these friendly propositions.

Why, then," continued Ewart, "if you will do nothing for the free trade, I must patronize it myself." So saying, he took a large glass of brandy.

"A hair of the dog that bit me," he continued," of the dog that will worry me one day soon and yet, and be d-d to me for an idiot, I must always have him at my throat. But, says the old catch"-Here he sung, and sung well

"Let's drink-let's drink-while life we have ;

We'll find but cold drinking, cold drinking in the grave.'"

"All this," he continued, " is no charm against the headach. I wish I had anything that could do you good. -Faith, and we have tea and coffee aboard! I'll open a chest or a bag, and let you have some in an instant. You are at the age to like such cat-lap better than better stuff."

Fairford thanked him, and accepted his offer of tea. Nanty Ewart was soon heard calling about, "Break open yon chest-take out your capfull, you bastard of a powder-monkey; we may want it again.-No sugar ?— all used up for grog, say you ?-knock another loaf to pieces, can't ye?-and get the kettle boiling, ye hell's baby, in no time at all!"

عا

By dint of these energetic proceedings he was in a short time able to return to the place where his passenger lay sick and exhausted, with a cup, or rather a can-full of tea; for every thing was on a large scale on board of the Jumping Jenny. Alan drank it eagerly, and with so much appearance of being refreshed, that Nanty Ewart swore he would have some too, and only laced it, as his phrase went, with a single glass of brandy.10

CHAPTER VII.

NARRATIVE OF ALAN FAIRFORD CONTINUED.

We left Alan Fairford on the deck of the little smuggling brig, in that disconsolate situation, when sickness and nausea attack a heated and fevered frame, and an anxious mind. His share of sea-sickness, however, was not so great as to engross his sensations entirely, or altogether to divert his attention from what was passing around. If he could not delight in the swiftness and agility with which the "little frigate" walked the waves, or amuse himself by noticing the beauty of the sea-views around him, where the distant Skiddaw raised his brow, as if in defiance of the clouded eminence of Criffel, which lorded it over the Scottish side of the estuary, he had spirits and composure enough to pay particular attention to the master of the vessel, on whose character his own safety in all probability was dependent.

Nanty Ewart had now given the helm to one of his people, a bald-pated, grizzled old fellow, whose whole life had been spent in evading the revenue laws, with now and then the relaxation of a few months imprisonment, for deforcing officers, resisting seizures, and the like offences. 8* VOL. II.