leases." The truce was now made; he begged of me, "as I valued
_his_ feelings," to drop the formality of his title, to regard him
simply as a brother, and to rely on his wish to forward every object
that might gratify my inclination.

Our conference broke up. He galloped to a neighbouring horse-race. I
went to take a solitary ramble through the Park.

The hour and the scene were what the poet pronounces "fit to cure all
sadness but despair." Noble old trees, the "roof star-proof" overhead,
the cool velvet grass under the feet--glimpses of sunlight striking
through the trunks--the freshened air coming in gusts across the lake,
like new life, bathing my burning forehead and feverish hands--the whole
unrivalled sweetness of the English landscape softened and subdued me.
Those effects are so common, that I can claim no credit for their
operation on my mind; and, before I had gone far, I was on the point of
returning, if not to recant, at least to palliate the harshness of my
appeal to fraternal justice.

But, by this time I had reached a rising ground which commanded a large
extent of the surrounding country. The evening was one of those
magnificent closes of the year, which, like a final scene in a theatre,
seems intended to comprehend all the beauties and brilliancies of the
past. The western sky was a blaze of all colours, and all pouring over
the succession of forest, cultured field, and mountain top, which make
the English view, if not the most sublime, the most touching of the
earth!

But as I stood on the hill, gazing round to enjoy every shape and shade
at leisure, my eye turned on the Castle. It spoiled all my serenity at
once. I felt that it was a spot from which I was excluded by nature;
that it belonged to others so wholly, that scarcely by any conceivable
chance could it ever be mine; and that I could remain within its walls
no longer, but with a sense of uselessness and shame.

If I could have taken staff in hand and pack on shoulder, I would have
started at that moment on a pilgrimage that might have circled the
globe. But the most fiery resolution must submit to circumstances. One
night more, at least, I must sleep under the paternal roof, and I was
hastening home, brooding over bitter thoughts, when I suddenly rushed
against some one whom I nearly overthrew.--"Bless me, Mr Marston, is it
you?"--told me that I had run down my old tutor, Mr Vincent, the parson
of the parish. He had been returning from vi