l measure on
his friends, as to leave, alas! small remnant for himself."

Encouraged by this encomium, I proceeded, in answer to his inquiries, to
relate what I remembered of my parent; and he gave an account of those
circumstances which had brought about a neglect of my father's testamentary
letter. When, in after times, Adrian's father, then king of England, felt
his situation become more perilous, his line of conduct more embarrassed,
again and again he wished for his early friend, who might stand a mound
against the impetuous anger of his queen, a mediator between him and the
parliament. From the time that he had quitted London, on the fatal night of
his defeat at the gaming-table, the king had received no tidings concerning
him; and when, after the lapse of years, he exerted himself to discover
him, every trace was lost. With fonder regret than ever, he clung to his
memory; and gave it in charge to his son, if ever he should meet this
valued friend, in his name to bestow every succour, and to assure him that,
to the last, his attachment survived separation and silence.

A short time before Adrian's visit to Cumberland, the heir of the nobleman
to whom my father had confided his last appeal to his royal master, put
this letter, its seal unbroken, into the young Earl's hands. It had been
found cast aside with a mass of papers of old date, and accident alone
brought it to light. Adrian read it with deep interest; and found there
that living spirit of genius and wit he had so often heard commemorated. He
discovered the name of the spot whither my father had retreated, and where
he died; he learnt the existence of his orphan children; and during the
short interval between his arrival at Ulswater and our meeting in the park,
he had been occupied in making inquiries concerning us, and arranging a
variety of plans for our benefit, preliminary to his introducing himself to
our notice.

The mode in which he spoke of my father was gratifying to my vanity; the
veil which he delicately cast over his benevolence, in alledging a duteous
fulfilment of the king's latest will, was soothing to my pride. Other
feelings, less ambiguous, were called into play by his conciliating manner
and the generous warmth of his expressions, respect rarely before
experienced, admiration, and love--he had touched my rocky heart with his
magic power, and the stream of affection gushed forth, imperishable and
pure. In the evening we parted; he pressed