ated from his native lake to the banks of the
Oder in Germany. The res augusta domi, the waste of a decent patrimony,
by an improvident father, obliged him, like many of his countrymen, to
confide in his own industry; and he was entrusted with the education of
a young prince, the grandson of the Margrave of Schavedt, of the Royal
Family of Prussia. Our friendship was never cooled, our correspondence
was sometimes interrupted; but I rather wished than hoped to obtain
Mr. Deyverdun for the companion of my Italian tour. An unhappy, though
honourable passion, drove him from his German court; and the attractions
of hope and curiosity were fortified by the expectation of my speedy
return to England. During four successive summers he passed several
weeks or months at Beriton, and our free conversations, on every topic
that-could interest the heart or understanding, would have reconciled
me to a desert or a prison. In the winter months of London my sphere of
knowledge and action was somewhat enlarged, by the many new acquaintance
which I had contracted in the militia and abroad; and I must regret, as
more than an acquaintance, Mr. Godfrey Clarke of Derbyshire, an amiable
and worthy young man, who was snatched away by an untimely death. A
weekly convivial meeting was established by myself and travellers, under
the name of the Roman Club.

The renewal, or perhaps the improvement, of my English life was
embittered by the alteration of my own feelings. At the age of
twenty-one I was, in my proper station of a youth, delivered from the
yoke of education, and delighted with the comparative state of liberty
and affluence. My filial obedience was natural and easy; and in the gay
prospect of futurity, my ambition did not extend beyond the enjoyment
of my books, my leisure, and my patrimonial estate, undisturbed by the
cares of a family and the duties of a profession. But in the militia I
was armed with power; in my travels, I was exempt from controul; and as
I approached, as I gradually passed my thirtieth year, I began to feel
the desire of being master to my own house. The most gentle authority
will sometimes frown without reason, the most cheerful submission will
sometimes murmur without cause; and such is the law of our imperfect
nature, that we must either command or obey; that our personal liberty
is supported by the obsequiousness of our own dependants. While so many
of my acquaintance were married or in parliament, or advancing w