Alfred's sanity at both dates, aud pledged himself
to swear to it in a court of law. He then
inquired what it availed to have sent one king to
Phalaris and another to Versailles in defence
of our Liberty, since after all that Liberty lies
grovelling at the mercy of Dr. Pill-box, aud Mr.
Sawbones, and a single designing relative? Then
he drew a strong picture of this free-born British
citizen skulking and hiding at this moment from
a gang of rogues aud conspirators, who, in France
and other civilised countries that brag less of
liberty than we do, would be themselves flying
as criminals from the officers of justice; and he
wound up with a warm appeal to the press to
cast its shield over the victim of bad laws and
foul practices. " In England," said he, " Justice
is the daughter of Publicity. Throughout the
world deeds of villany are done every day in kid
gloves: but, with us, at all events, they have to
be done on the sly: here lies our true moral
eminence as a nation. Utter then your 'fiat
lux;' cast the full light of publicity on this
dark villany, and behold it will wither, and your
oppressed aud injured fellow-citizen be safe
from that very hour."

He signed it and read it out to them, or rather
roared it. But he had written it so well he
could not make it bad by delivery. Indeed, he
was a masterly writer of English you must know.
Julia was delighted; but Alfred shook his head.
"The editor will not put it in."

"Th' editor! D'ye think I'm so green as to
trust t' any one editor? D'ye think I have
lived all these years and not learned what poor
cowardly things men are? Moral courage! where
can you find it? Except in the dickshinary?
Few to the world their honest thoughts avow;
the groveller, policy, robs justice now,

And none but Sampson dares to lift a hand
Against the curst corruption of the land.

Now, lad, I'm off to my printer with this. They
are working night and day just now: there will
be two hundred copies printed in half an hour."

"And me, doctor!" said Julia. "Am poor I
to have no hand in it? How cruel of you. Oh
pray, pray, pray let me help a little."

"Put on your bonnet, then, this minute," said
he: " in war never lose a minute."

"But I am so afraid they may be lying in wait
for him outside."

"Then we'll give them a good hiding: there
are three of us; all good men and staunch," said
the indomitable doctor.

"No, no," said the pugnacious Alfred. " Julia
does not like fighting: I heard her screaming all
the time I was defending myself on the stairs:
let us be prudent: let us throw dust in their
eyes. Put me on a bonnet and cloak."

"And a nice little woman you'll make, ye
fathom."

"Oh, I can stoop— to conquer."

Julia welcomed this plan almost with glee, and
she and Edward very soon made a handsome,
brazen-looking trollop six feet high. Then it had
to stoop, and Edward and Julia helped it out to
the carriage, under the very noses of a policeman
and a keeper, who were watching for Alfred:
seeing which— oh frailty of woman.!— the district
visitor addressed it aloud as her aunt, and begged
it to take care: which she afterwards observed
was acting a falsehood, and " where was her
Christianity?"

Alfred was actually not recognised: the
carriage bowled away to the great printing-house;
it was on that side the water. The foreman
entered into the thing with spirit, and
divided the copy, small as it was, among two or
three compositors: so a rough proof was ready
in an incredibly short time: the doctor corrected
it; and soon they began to work off the copies.
The foreman found them Mitchell's newspaper
list, and envelopes by the hundred, and while
the copies were pouring in, all hands were folding
and addressing them to the London and
provincial editors. The office lent the stamps.
The doctor drove Alfred to his own lodgings, and
forbade him to reappear in Pembroke-street until
the letter should come out in the London
journals.

That night the letters were all posted, and at
daybreak were flying north, south, east, and
west. In the afternoon the letter came out in
four London evening papers, and the next morning
the metropolis and the whole kingdom were
ringing with them, and the full blaze of
publicity burst upon this dark deed.

Ay, stout Sampson, well you knew mankind,
and well you knew the nation you lived in.
Richard Hardie, in the very act of setting detectives
to find Alfred's lurking-place, ran his nose
against this letter in the Globe. He collapsed at
the sight of it; and wrote directly to Dr. Wolf
enclosing it, and saying that it would be unadvisable
to make any fresh attempt. His letter
was crossed by one from Dr. Wolf, containing
Sampson's thunderbolt extracted from the Sun,
and saying that no earthly consideration should
induce him to meddle with Alfred now. Richard
Hardie flung himself into the train, and went
down to his brother at Clare Court.

He was ill at ease. He felt like some great
general, who has launched many attacks against
ihe foe, very successful at first, then less successful,
then repulsed with difficulty, then repulsed
with ease, till at last the foe stands before
him impregnable. Then he feels that ere long
that iron enemy will attack him in turn, and
that he, exhausted by his own onslaughts, must
defend himself how he can. Yet there was a
pause; he passed a whole quiet peaceful day
with his brother, assuring him that the affair
would go no further on either side; but in his
secret soul he felt this quiet day was but the
ominous pause between two great battles; one of
the father against the son, the other of the son
against the father.

And he was right: the very next day the late
defender attacked, and in earnest. But for certain
reasons I prefer to let another relate it: