g wise, as I before have said.--Ibid.

It was a fine, joyous summer morning when Clarence set out, alone and
on horseback, upon his enterprise of love and adventure. If there be
anything on earth more reviving and inspiriting than another, it is, to
my taste, a bright day,--a free horse, a journey of excitement before
one, and loneliness! Rousseau--in his own way, a great though rather
a morbid epicure of this world's enjoyments--talks with rapture of
his pedestrian rambles when in his first youth. But what are your
foot-ploddings to the joy which lifts you into air with the bound of
your mettled steed?

But there are times when an iron and stern sadness locks, as it were,
within itself our capacities of enjoyment; and the song of the birds,
and the green freshness of the summer morning, and the glad motion of
the eager horse, brought neither relief nor change to the musings of the
young adventurer.

He rode on for several miles without noticing anything on his road,
and only now and then testifying the nature of his thoughts and
his consciousness of solitude by brief and abrupt exclamations and
sentences, which proclaimed the melancholy yet exciting subjects of
his meditations. During the heat of the noon, he rested at a small
public-house about ---- miles from town; and resolving to take his horse
at least ten miles farther before his day's journey ceased, he remounted
towards the evening and slowly resumed his way.

He was now entering the same county in which he first made his
appearance in this history. Although several miles from the spot on
which the memorable night with the gypsies had been passed, his thoughts
reverted to its remembrance, and he sighed as he recalled the ardent
hopes which then fed and animated his heart. While thus musing, he heard
the sound of hoofs behind him, and presently came by a sober-looking
man, on a rough, strong pony, laden (besides its master's weight) with
saddle-bags of uncommon size, and to all appearance substantially and
artfully filled.

Clarence looked, and, after a second survey, recognized the person of
his old acquaintance, Mr. Morris Brown.

Not equally reminiscent was the worshipful itinerant, who, in the
great variety of forms and faces which it was his professional lot
to encounter, could not be expected to preserve a very nice or
distinguishing recollection of each.

"Your servant, sir, your servant," said Mr. Brown, as he rode his
pony alongside of our trav