by his tender hearted landlady.

Our persecuted hero next occupied private apartments at a boarding-house
at Malvern. Privacy was refreshing, but, alas! its duration was doomed
to be short. A young officer who had witnessed the embarrassment of "the
stranger" at Tewksbury, recognised the sufferer at Malvern, and knowing
his nervous antipathy to being noticed, he wickedly resolved to make him
the lion of the place.

He dined at the public table, spoke of the gentleman who occupied the
private apartments, wondered that no one appeared to be aware who he
was, and then _in confidence_ informed the assembled party that
the recluse was the celebrated author of the "Pleasures of Memory," now
engaged in illustrating "HIS ITALY" with splendid embellishments from
the pencils of Stothard and Turner.

Dumps again found himself an object of universal curiosity, every body
became officiously attentive to him, he was waylaid in his walks, and
_intentionally_ intruded upon _by accident_ in his private apartments;
a travelling artist requested to be permitted to take his portrait for
the exhibition, a lady requested him to peruse her manuscript romance
and to give his unbiassed opinion, and the master of the boarding-house
waited upon him by desire of his guests to request that he would honour
the public table with his company. Several ladies solicited his
autograph for their albums, and several gentlemen called a meeting
of the inhabitants, and resolved to give him a public dinner; a
craniologist requested to be permitted to take a cast of his head,
and as a climax to his misery, when he was sitting in his bedchamber
thinking himself at least secure for the present, the door being bolted;
he looked towards the Malvern Hills, which rise abruptly immediately