"A parcel for Cornelius Crobble, Esq.," said a little porter, of that
peculiar stamp which is seen hanging about coach-offices--"Two
and-sixpence."

I looked at the direction, and drew out the "petty cash" to defray the
demand; when, then, first looking at the man, I thought I recognised his
features.

"What!" cried I, "Isn't your name--"

"Matthew," answered he quickly.

"Matthew!--why, don't you know me?"

"No, sir," replied he, staring vacantly at me.

"Indeed!--Have I so outgrown all knowledge? Don't you recollect Andrew
Mullins?"

"Good heavins!" exclaimed he, with his well-remembered nasal twang; "are
you--"

"Yes."

"Well, I declare now you've growed into a gentleman. I should'nt--I
really should'nt--" He did not say what he really "should not"--but
extended his hand.--"Hope you ain't too proud to shake hands with an old
friend?--"

I shook him heartily by the hand, and made some enquiries touching his
history.

Poor Matthew seated himself with all the ease imaginable, and laid his
knot beside him, and began, after the manner of his favourite heroes, to
"unbosom himself."

"You've a father," said he; "but I'm a horphan, without father nor
mother--a houtcast!"--and he sunk his head upon his bosom; and I observed
that his scrubby crop was already becoming thin and bald.

"Since I left the place in the 'lane,' I've bin a-going--down--down"--and
he nearly touched the floor with his hand. "That gal, Mary, was the ruin
of me--I shall never forget her.--My hopes is sunk, like the sun in the
ocean, never to rise agin!" I was rather amused by this romantic, though
incorrect, figure; but I let him proceed: "I've got several places, but
lost 'em all. I think there's a spell upon me; and who can struggle
against his fate?"

I tried to console him, and found, upon a further confession, that he had
flown to spirits "now and then," to blunt the sharp tooth of mental
misery.

Here, then, was the chief cause of his want of success, which he blindly
attributed to fate--the common failing of all weak minds. For my part,
notwithstanding the imperial authority of the great Napoleon himself, I
have no faith in Fate, believing that the effect, whether good or bad,
may invariably be traced to some cause in the conduct of the individual,
as certainly as the loss of a man, in a game of draughts, is the
consequence of a "wrong move" by the player!--And poor Matthew's
accusation of Fate put me in mind of the sc