g your pardon, Barnes," Clive said, blushing deeply, "and I'm very
sorry indeed for what passed; I threw it."

The Colonel, who had been listening with a queer expression of wonder
and doubt on his face, here interrupted Mr. Barnes. "It was Clive
that--that spilled the wine over you last night," Thomas Newcome said;
"the young rascal had drunk a great deal too much wine, and had neither
the use of his head nor his hands, and this morning I have given him a
lecture, and he has come to ask your pardon for his clumsiness; and if
you have forgotten your share in the night's transaction, I hope you
have forgotten his, and will accept his hand and his apology."

"Apology: There's no apology," cries Barnes, holding out a couple of
fingers of his hand, but looking towards the Colonel. "I don't know
what happened any more than the dead. Did we have a row? Were there any
glasses broken? The best way in such cases is to sweep 'em up. We can't
mend them."

The Colonel said gravely--"that he was thankful to find that the
disturbance of the night before had no worse result." He pulled the tail
of Clive's coat, when that unlucky young blunderer was about to trouble
his cousin with indiscreet questions or explanations, and checked his
talk. "The other night you saw an old man in drink, my boy," he said,
"and to what shame and degradation the old wretch had brought himself.
Wine has given you a warning too, which I hope you will remember all
your life; no one has seen me the worse for drink these forty years, and
I hope both you young gentlemen will take counsel by an old soldier,
who fully preaches what he practises, and beseeches you to beware of the
bottle."

After quitting their kinsman, the kind Colonel further improved the
occasion with his son; and told him out of his own experience many
stories of quarrels, and duels, and wine;--how the wine had occasioned
the brawls, and the foolish speech overnight the bloody meeting at
morning; how he had known widows and orphans made by hot words uttered
in idle orgies: how the truest honour was the manly confession of wrong;
and the best courage the courage to avoid temptation. The humble-minded
speaker, whose advice contained the best of all wisdom, that which comes
from a gentle and reverent spirit, and a pure and generous heart, never
for once thought of the effect which he might be producing, but uttered
his simple say according to the truth within him. Indeed, he spoke out
his mind