starched collar, and stretched his arms to get
his white cuffs well down—clearing the decks,
as it were, for action—he would say, looking at
me, "When do you mean to lay yourself out to
learn anything, for I tell you what, my good
friend, if you go on in this way I really don't
see what end there is to be." Here of course
another veiled allusion to the extreme penalty
which was my doom. "I have just come from
the Goodmans', and do you know what they
both asked me this morning? To begin Optics
with them. I give you my honour and word,
they did, and I have half promised to begin
Optics with them; for such zeal deserves to
be encouraged." The feeling in my mind as
I listened to this extraordinary request was
either that they were monsters or that the
world was turning upside down. "I wonder,"
added Mr. Blackstone abstractedly, " will you
ever think of such a thing?" And he looked at
me abstractedly, and then there was a pause.
And then he made that "tzut tzut" sound
people make when they meet something
disappointing; shook his head slowly at me, not
from side to side but up and down; and said,
mournfully, " Well, give me the prosody."

The day that these prodigious Goodmans
asked to be taught Optics was a sort of
disastrous Ides of March for me. On that occasion,
the first of the month, Mr. Blackstone's honorarium
was always delivered to him over wine and
cake in the drawing-room, and polite and
general conversation always took place in my
presence, on the subject of myself. In the face
of sherry Mr. Blackstone was forbearing,
would hold out rather encouraging hopes,
would trust that Sidney would soon see how
necessary it was, he should begin to apply
himself. "I was just telling him" went on Mr.
Blackstone placidly: meaning me no harm, but
unconsciously adjusting the rope round my
neck: "that Arthur and William Goodman
had come to me to beg that I would teach
them Optics. Shows a very diligent spirit.
Indeed, as I told Mr. Goodman, I have seldom met
with such an instance." I think at this moment
Mr. Blackstone saw the mortification and
despair that was in the face of Sidney's parent,
and added witli some encouragement, " Still, I
am sure we shall have him" nodding to me,
"asking to be taught Optics one of these days—
yes, one of these days." Finding no encouragement
in imparting this most improbable hope,
Mr. Blackstone passed to another branch of the
subject. "I was thinking," he said, " that as
Arthur, and William, and Sidney, are
purseeyewing the same course of studies it would
be an additional spur to their eeemulation."
Mr. Blackstone delighted in these rich words,
and from presence of the old oily sherry into
which he was looking at the moment, seemed
to gather kindred imagery. "I was thinking
it would steamewlate eeemewlation if we had
a sort of competition-examination in the various
branches. I think, with a little study, he,"
nodding to me, "would be able to hold his
own. He knows his Euclid fairly—very fairly
indeed. And to the candidate who answers
best, you will allow me to present a nicely
bound copy of Sturm's Reflections."

This project was received without enthusiasm,
even with dejection, as only tending to fresh
disgrace. "O! he"—they never would call me by
my name—"will never study. He doesn't care
to distinguish himself," &c. But Mr. Blackstone
warming at the prospect succeeded in
drawing a picture of victory, and brought round
the whole family.

The period that followed I shall not soon
forget. The operation of " grinding " me was
taken in hand personally by Miss Simpson,
"for this occasion only;" her capacity for the
dead languages being equal to the duty of
"hearing me." I was duly called up and made
to rehearse in Alvarez's Prosody, the Latin
Grammar, the Greek ditto, Mangnall's Questions, and
other works. Virgil and Thucydides presented
more serious difficulties to Miss Simpson, but
the happy idea of securing a literal translation
of the text suggested itself, and thus, being
challenged to translate, I was successfully
checked in any attempt at imposition.

The day came at last. In the interval,
I hope and believe that the industrious
Goodmans nearly killed themselves with study. I
really worked hard; and in the house were a
flutter and excitement, as it were of something
akin to a marriage. It was indeed the first
public act our house had known; the first entry
on the broad stage of the world. There seemed
to me an impression that it might get into the
public papers. I proceed to the description of
this tremendous occasion under a fresh heading.

NOW!

I NEVER saw but one hanging in my life. On
that occasion my duties brought me into close
contact with the culprit himself. I attended
him on the scaffold and was with him to the
last. The newspapers described the execution
in the usual terms. They did not describe what
I saw or heard. It may be they were justified
in not doing so; it may be even, now when
public executions have happily become a thing
of the past, that I am not justified in recording
an unprofessional view of the tragedy I
witnessed. My plea is, that I have never yet read
what has impressed me as a truthful account of
any such scene.

As it can serve no possible purpose to
mention real names I will simply state that the
execution referred to, took place in a Northern Assize
town, not very recently. The condemned was
an old man of at least seventy; his offence, the
brutal murder of an old woman, his wife.

I first saw the old man, say Giles, at seven
o'clock on the morning in question. He was
sitting in his cell, his head bent forward, and
slowly shaking from side to side, not with
trepidation, but with the tremulous palsy of
old age that was natural to him. He was
evidently a man of the dullest sensibilities, and in