on the
country; an infamous tax upon the people, who starve that you may
fatten in idleness. But take this clerkship in the Tape and Sealing-Wax
Office," continued the patriot, his bosom heaving with noble
indignation, and his eye flashing the purest fire,--"TAKE this
clerkship, John Perkins, and sanction tyranny, by becoming one of its
agents; sanction dishonesty by sharing in its plunder--do this, BUT
never more be friend of mine. Had I a child," said the patriot, clasping
his hands and raising his eyes to heaven, "I would rather see him dead,
sir--dead, dead at my feet, than the servant of a Government which all
honest men despise." And here, giving a searching glance at Perkins, Mr.
Scully began tramping up and down the garden in a perfect fury.

"Good heavens!" exclaimed the timid John Perkins--"don't say SO. My
dear Mr. Scully, I'm not the dishonest character you suppose me to be--I
never looked at the matter in this light. I'll--I'll consider of it.
I'll tell Crampton that I will give up the place; but for Heaven's sake,
don't let me forfeit YOUR friendship, which is dearer to me than any
place in the world."

Mr. Scully pressed his hand, and said nothing; and though their
interview lasted a full half-hour longer, during which they paced up and
down the gravel walk, we shall not breathe a single syllable of their
conversation, as it has nothing to do with our tale.

The next morning, after an interview with Miss Lucy, John Perkins,
Esquire, was seen to issue from Mrs. Biggs's house, looking particularly
pale, melancholy, and thoughtful; and he did not stop until he reached a
certain door in Downing Street, where was the office of a certain great
Minister, and the offices of the clerks in his Lordship's department.

The head of them was Mr. Josiah Crampton, who has now to be introduced
to the public. He was a little old gentleman, some sixty years of age,
maternal uncle to John Perkins; a bachelor, who had been about forty-two
years employed in the department of which he was now the head.

After waiting four hours in an ante-room, where a number of Irishmen,
some newspaper editors, many pompous-looking political personages asking
for the "first lord," a few sauntering clerks, and numbers of swift
active messengers passed to and fro;--after waiting for four hours,
making drawings on the blotting-book, and reading the Morning Post
for that day week, Mr. Perkins was informed that he might go into his
uncle's roo