rate's house, at
which, previous to his return to the former place, he had prudently left
the Corporal--not willing to trust to that person's discretion, as to
the tales and scandal that he might propagate throughout the village on
a matter so painful and so dark.

Let the world wag as it will, there are some tempers which its
vicissitudes never reach. Nothing makes a picture of distress more sad
than the portrait of some individual sitting indifferently looking on in
the back-ground. This was a secret Hogarth knew well. Mark his deathbed
scenes:--Poverty and Vice worked up into horror--and the Physicians
in the corner wrangling for the fee!--or the child playing with the
coffin--or the nurse filching what fortune, harsh, yet less harsh than
humanity, might have left. In the melancholy depth of humour that steeps
both our fancy and our heart in the immortal Romance of Cervantes (for,
how profoundly melancholy is it to be compelled by one gallant folly to
laugh at all that is gentle, and brave, and wise, and generous!) nothing
grates on us more than when--last scene of all, the poor Knight lies
dead--his exploits for ever over--for ever dumb his eloquent discourses:
than when, I say, we are told that, despite of his grief, even little
Sancho did not eat or drink the less:--these touches open to us the real
world, it is true; but it is not the best part of it. What a pensive
thing is true humour! Certain it was, that when Walter, full of
contending emotions at all he had witnessed,--harassed, tortured, yet
also elevated, by his feelings, stopped opposite the cottage door,
and saw there the Corporal sitting comfortably in the porch,--his vile
modicum Sabini before him--his pipe in his mouth, and a complacent
expression of satisfaction diffusing itself over features which
shrewdness and selfishness had marked for their own;--certain it was,
that, at this sight Walter experienced a more displeasing revulsion of
feeling--a more entire conviction of sadness--a more consummate disgust
of this weary world and the motley masquers that walk thereon, than all
the tragic scenes he had just witnessed had excited within him.

"And well, Sir," said the Corporal, slowly rising, "how did it go
off?--Wasn't the villain bash'd to the dust?--You've nabbed him safe, I
hope?"

"Silence," said Walter, sternly, "prepare for our departure. The chaise
will be here forthwith; we return to Yorkshire this day. Ask me no more
now."

"A--well--ba