cal nature; he was an extraordinary arithmetician, he
was a very skilful chemist, and kept a laboratory at his lodgings--he
mended his own clothes and linen with incomparable neatness. Philip
suspected him of blacking his own shoes, but that was prejudice. Once
he found Morton sketching horses' heads--pour se desennuyer; and he made
some short criticisms on the drawings, which showed him well acquainted
with the art. Philip, surprised, sought to draw him into conversation;
but Birnie eluded the attempt, and observed that he had once been an
engraver.

Gawtrey himself did not seem to know much of the early life of this
person, or at least he did not seem to like much to talk of him. The
footstep of Mr. Birnie was gliding, noiseless, and catlike; he had no
sociality in him--enjoyed nothing--drank hard--but was never drunk.
Somehow or other, he had evidently over Gawtrey an influence little
less than that which Gawtrey had over Morton, but it was of a different
nature: Morton had conceived an extraordinary affection for his friend,
while Gawtrey seemed secretly to dislike Birnie, and to be glad whenever
he quitted his presence. It was, in truth, Gawtrey's custom when Birnie
retired for the night, to rub his hands, bring out the punchbowl,
squeeze the lemons, and while Philip, stretched on the sofa, listened to
him, between sleep and waking, to talk on for the hour together,
often till daybreak, with that bizarre mixture of knavery and feeling,
drollery and sentiment, which made the dangerous charm of his society.

One evening as they thus sat together, Morton, after listening for some
time to his companion's comments on men and things, said abruptly,--

"Gawtrey! there is so much in you that puzzles me, so much which I find
it difficult to reconcile with your present pursuits, that, if I ask
no indiscreet confidence, I should like greatly to hear some account of
your early life. It would please me to compare it with my own; when I am
your age, I will then look back and see what I owed to your example."

"My early life! well--you shall hear it. It will put you on your guard,
I hope, betimes against the two rocks of youth--love and friendship."
Then, while squeezing the lemon into his favourite beverage, which
Morton observed he made stronger than usual, Gawtrey thus commenced:

THE HISTORY OF A GOOD-FOR-NOTHING.

CHAPTER III.

"All his success must on himself depend,
He had no money, co