hose eloquence had charmed, whose benevolent hand had nourished and
maintained me. There are likewise, in this mysterious state of life,
paroxysms and intervals of disordered consciousness, which memory
refuses to acknowledge or record; the epileptic's waking dream is
one--an unreal reality. And similar to this was my impression of the
late events. They lacked substantiality. Memory took no account of them,
discarded them, and would connect the present only with the bright
experience she had treasured up, prior to the dark distempered season. I
could not hate my benefactor. I could not efface the image, which months
of apparent love had engraven on my heart.

Thrust from Mr Clayton's chapel, and unable to obtain admission
elsewhere, I felt how insecure was my tenure of office. I prepared
myself for dismissal, and hoped that, when the hour arrived, I should
submit without repining. In the meanwhile, I was careful in the
performance of every duty, and studious to give no cause, not the
remotest, for complaint or dissatisfaction. It was not long, however,
before signs of an altered state of things presented themselves to view.
A straw tells which way the wind blows, and wisps began to fly in all
directions. I found at length that I could do nothing right. To-day I
was too indolent; to-morrow, too officious:--now I was too much of a
gentlemen; and now not half gentlemanly enough. The hardest infliction
to bear was the treatment of my new friend and colleague--of him who had
given me kind warning and advice, when mischief was only threatening,
but who, on the first appearance of trouble, took alarm, and deserted my
side. The moment that he perceived my inevitable fate, he decided upon
leaving me alone to fight my hard battle. At first he spoke to me with
shyness and reserve; afterwards coolly, and soon, he said nothing at
all. Sometimes, perhaps, if we were quite alone, and there was no chance
whatever of discovery, he would venture half a word or so upon the
convenient subject of the weather; but these occasions were very rare.
If a superior were present, hurricanes would not draw a syllable from
his careful lips; and, under the eye of the stout and influential Mr
Bombasty, it was well for me if frowns and sneers were the only
exhibitions of rudeness on the part of my worldly and far-seeing friend.
Ah, Jacob Whining! With all your policy and sagacious selfishness, you
found it difficult to protract your own official existenc