TO turn again to narrative, and to far less serious thoughts.

　　The last eighteen months before I went to Cambridge, I wasplaced, or rather placed myself, under the tuition of Mr.

　　Robert Collyer, rector of Warham, a living close to Holkhamin the gift of my brother Leicester. Between my Ely tutorand myself there was but little sympathy. He was a man ofmuch refinement, but with not much indulgence for suchaberrant proclivities as mine. Without my knowledge, hewrote to Mr. Ellice lamenting my secret recusancy, and itsmoral dangers. Mr. Ellice came expressly from London, andstayed a night at Ely. He dined with us in the cloisters,and had a long private conversation with my tutor, and,before he left, with me. I indignantly resented theclandestine representations of Mr. S., and, without a word toMr. Ellice or to anyone else, wrote next day to Mr. Collyerto beg him to take me in at Warham, and make what he could ofme, before I went to Cambridge. It may here be said that Mr.

　　Collyer had been my father's chaplain, and had lived atHolkham for several years as family tutor to my brothers andmyself, as we in turn left the nursery. Mr. Collyer, uponreceipt of my letter, referred the matter to Mr. Ellice; withhis approval I was duly installed at Warham. Beforedescribing my time there, I must tell of an incident whichcame near to affecting me in a rather important way.

　　My mother lived at Longford in Derbyshire, an old place, nowmy home, which had come into the Coke family in James I.'sreign, through the marriage of a son of Chief Justice Coke'swith the heiress of the De Langfords, an ancient family fromthat time extinct. While staying there during my summerholidays, my mother confided to me that she had had an offerof marriage from Mr. Motteux, the owner of considerableestates in Norfolk, including two houses - Beachamwell andSandringham. Mr. Motteux - 'Johnny Motteux,' as he wascalled - was, like Tristram Shandy's father, the son of awealthy 'Turkey merchant,' which, until better informed, Ialways took to mean a dealer in poultry. 'Johnny,' likeanother man of some notoriety, whom I well remember in myyounger days - Mr. Creevey - had access to many large housessuch as Holkham; not, like Creevey, for the sake of hisscandalous tongue, but for the sake of his wealth. He had no(known) relatives; and big people, who had younger sons toprovide for, were quite willing that one of them should behis heir. Johnny Motteux was an epicure with the best ofCHEFS. His capons came from Paris, his salmon fromChristchurch, and his Strasburg pies were made to order. Oneof these he always brought with him as a present to mymother, who used to say, 'Mr. Motteux evidently thinks thenearest way to my heart is down my throat.'

　　A couple of years after my father's death, Motteux wrote tomy mother proposing marriage, and, to enhance his personalattractions, (in figure and dress he was a duplicate of theimmortal Pickwick,) stated that he had made his will and hadbequeathed Sandringham to me, adding that, should he diewithout issue, I was to inherit the remainder of his estates.

　　Rather to my surprise, my mother handed the letter to me withevident signs of embarrassment and distress. My firstexclamation was: 'How jolly! The shooting's first rate, andthe old boy is over seventy, if he's a day.'

　　My mother apparently did not see it in this light. Sheclearly, to my disappointments did not care for the shooting;and my exultation only brought tears into her eyes.

　　'Why, mother,' I exclaimed, 'what's up? Don't you - don'tyou care for Johnny Motteux?'

　　She confessed that she did not.

　　'Then why don't you tell him so, and not bother about hisbeastly letter?'

　　'If I refuse him you will lose Sandringham.'

　　'But he says here he has already left it to me.'

　　'He will alter his will.'

　　'Let him!' cried I, flying out at such prospective meanness.

　　'Just you tell him you don't care a rap for him or forSandringham either.'

　　In more lady-like terms she acted in accordance with myadvice; and, it may be added, not long afterwards married Mr.

　　Ellice.

　　Mr. Motteux's first love, or one of them, had been LadyCowper, then Lady Palmerston. Lady Palmerston's youngest sonwas Mr. Spencer Cowper. Mr. Motteux died a year or two afterthe above event. He made a codicil to his will, and leftSandringham and all his property to Mr. Spencer Cowper. Mr.

　　Spencer Cowper was a young gentleman of costly habits.

　　Indeed, he bore the slightly modified name of 'ExpensiveCowper.' As an attache at Paris he was famous for hispatronage of dramatic art - or artistes rather; the votariesof Terpsichore were especially indebted to his liberality.

　　At the time of Mr. Motteux's demise, he was attached to theEmbassy at St. Petersburg. Mr. Motteux's solicitors wroteimmediately to inform him of his accession to their lateclient's wealth. It being one of Mr. Cowper's maxims neverto read lawyers' letters, (he was in daily receipt of morethan he could attend to,) he flung this one unread into thefire; and only learnt his mistake through the congratulationsof his family.

　　The Prince Consort happened about this time to be in quest ofa suitable country seat for his present Majesty; andSandringham, through the adroit negotiations of LordPalmerston, became the property of the Prince of Wales. Thesoul of the 'Turkey merchant,' we cannot doubt, will reposein peace.

　　The worthy rector of Warham St. Mary's was an odditydeserving of passing notice. Outwardly he was no Adonis.

　　His plain features and shock head of foxy hair, hisantiquated and neglected garb, his copious jabot - muchaffected by the clergy of those days - were becominginvestitures of the inward man. His temper was inflammatory,sometimes leading to excesses, which I am sure he rued inmental sackcloth and ashes. But visitors at Holkham (unawareof the excellent motives and moral courage which inspired hisconduct) were not a little amazed at the austerity with whichhe obeyed the dictates of his conscience.

　　For example, one Sunday evening after dinner, when thedrawing-room was filled with guests, who more or lesspreserved the decorum which etiquette demands in the presenceof royalty, (the Duke of Sussex was of the party,) CharlesFox and Lady Anson, great-grandmother of the present LordLichfield, happened to be playing at chess. When theirascible dominie beheld them he pushed his way through thebystanders, swept the pieces from the board, and, withrigorous impartiality, denounced these impious desecrators ofthe Sabbath eve.

　　As an example of his fidelity as a librarian, Mr. Panizziused to relate with much glee how, whenever he was atHolkham, Mr. Collyer dogged him like a detective. One day,not wishing to detain the reverend gentleman while he himselfspent the forenoon in the manuscript library, (where not onlythe ancient manuscripts, but the most valuable of the printedbooks, are kept under lock and key,) he considerately beggedMr. Collyer to leave him to his researches. The dominiereplied 'that he knew his duty, and did not mean to neglectit.' He did not lose sight of Mr. Panizzi.

　　The notion that he - the great custodian of the nation'sliterary treasures - would snip out and pocket the title-pageof the folio edition of Shakespeare, or of the CoverdaleBible, tickled Mr. Panizzi's fancy vastly.

　　In spite, however, of our rector's fiery temperament, orperhaps in consequence of it, he was remarkably susceptibleto the charms of beauty. We were constantly invited todinner and garden parties in the neighbourhood; nor was thegood rector slow to return the compliment. It must beconfessed that the pupil shared to the full theimpressibility of the tutor; and, as it happened, unknown toboth, the two were in one case rivals.

　　As the young lady afterwards occupied a very distinguishedposition in Oxford society, it can only be said that she wascelebrated for her many attractions. She was then sixteen,and the younger of her suitors but two years older. As faras age was concerned, nothing could be more compatible. Norin the matter of mutual inclination was there any disparitywhatever. What, then, was the pupil's dismay when, after adinner party at the rectory, and the company had left, thetutor, in a frantic state of excitement, seized the pupil byboth hands, and exclaimed: 'She has accepted me!'

　　'Accepted you?' I asked. 'Who has accepted you?'

　　'Who? Why, Miss -, of course! Who else do you suppose wouldaccept me?'

　　'No one,' said I, with doleful sincerity. 'But did youpropose to her? Did she understand what you said to her?

　　Did she deliberately and seriously say "Yes?"'

　　'Yes, yes, yes,' and his disordered jabot and touzled hairechoed the fatal word.

　　'O Smintheus of the silver bow!' I groaned. 'It is thewoman's part to create delusions, and - destroy them! Tothink of it! after all that has passed between us these -these three weeks, next Monday! "Once and for ever." Didever woman use such words before? And I - believed them!'

　　'Did you speak to the mother?' I asked in a fit ofdesperation.

　　'There was no time for that. Mrs. - was in the carriage, andI didn't pop [the odious word!] till I was helping her onwith her cloak. The cloak, you see, made it less awkward.

　　My offer was a sort of OBITER DICTUM - a by-the-way, as itwere.'

　　'To the carriage, yes. But wasn't she taken by surprise?'

　　'Not a bit of it. Bless you! they always know. Shepretended not to understand, but that's a way they have.'

　　'And when you explained?'

　　'There wasn't time for more. She laughed, and sprang intothe carriage.'

　　'And that was all?'

　　'All! would you have had her spring into my arms?'

　　'God forbid! You will have to face the mother to-morrow,'

　　said I, recovering rapidly from my despondency.

　　'Face? Well, I shall have to call upon Mrs. -, if that'swhat you mean. A mere matter of form. I shall go over afterlunch. But it needn't interfere with your work. You can goon with the "Anabasis" till I come back. And remember -NEANISKOS is not a proper name, ha! ha! ha! The quadraticswill keep till the evening.' He was merry over hisprospects, and I was not altogether otherwise.

　　But there was no Xenophon, no algebra, that day! Dire wasthe distress of my poor dominie when he found the mother asmuch bewildered as the daughter was frightened, by themistake. 'She,' the daughter, 'had never for a momentimagined, &c., &c.'

　　My tutor was not long disheartened by such caprices - so hedeemed them, as Miss Jemima's (she had a prettier name, youmay be sure), and I did my best (it cost me little now) toencourage his fondest hopes. I proposed that we should drinkthe health of the future mistress of Warham in tea, which hecheerfully acceded to, all the more readily, that it gave himan opportunity to vent one of his old college jokes. 'Yes,yes,' said he, with a laugh, 'there's nothing like tea. TEVENIENTE DIE, TE DECEDENTE CANEBAM.' Such sallies ofinnocent playfulness often smoothed his path in life. Hetook a genuine pleasure in his own jokes. Some men do. Oneday I dropped a pot of marmalade on a new carpet, and shouldcertainly have been reprimanded for carelessness, had it notoccurred to him to exclaim: 'JAM SATIS TERRIS!' and thenlaug............