for one thing he would have been completely triumphant.  He alluded to Adrian, and spoke of him with that disparagement that the worldly wise always attach to enthusiasm.  He perceived the cloud gathering, and tried to dissipate it; but the strength of my feelings would not permit me to pass thus lightly over this sacred subject; so I said emphatically, “Permit me to remark, that I am devotedly attached to the Earl of Windsor; he is my best friend and benefactor.  I reverence his goodness, I accord with his opinions, and bitterly lament his present, and I trust temporary, illness.  That illness, from its peculiarity, makes it painful to me beyond words to hear him mentioned, unless in terms of respect and affection.”

Raymond replied; but there was nothing conciliatory in his reply.  I saw that in his heart he despised those dedicated to any but worldly idols.  “Every man,” he said, “dreams about something, love, honour, and pleasure; you dream of friendship, and devote yourself to a maniac; well, if that be your vocation, doubtless you are in the right to follow it.”—­

Some reflection seemed to sting him, and the spasm of pain that for a moment convulsed his countenance, checked my indignation.  “Happy are dreamers,” he continued, “so that they be not awakened!  Would I could dream! but ‘broad and garish day’ is the element in which I live; the dazzling glare of reality inverts the scene for me.  Even the ghost of friendship has departed, and love”——­He broke off; nor could I guess whether the disdain that curled his lip was directed against the passion, or against himself for being its slave.

This account may be taken as a sample of my intercourse with Lord Raymond.  I became intimate with him, and each day afforded me occasion to admire more and more his powerful and versatile talents, that together with his eloquence, which was graceful and witty, and his wealth now immense, caused him to be feared, loved, and hated beyond any other man in England.

My descent, which claimed interest, if not respect, my former connection with Adrian, the favour of the ambassador, whose secretary I had been, and now my intimacy with Lord Raymond, gave me easy access to the fashionable and political circles of England.  To my inexperience we at first appeared on the eve of a civil war; each party was violent, acrimonious, and unyielding.  Parliament was divided by three factions, aristocrats, democrats, and royalists.  After Adrian’s declared predeliction to the republican form of government, the latter party had nearly died away, chiefless, guideless; but, when Lord Raymond came forward as its leader, it revived with redoubled force.  Some were royalists from prejudice and ancient affection, and there were many moderately inclined who feared alike the capricious tyranny of the popular party, and the unbending despotism of the aristocrats.  More than a third of the members ranged themselves under Raymond, and their number was perpetually encreasing.  The aristocrats