my pamphlet--my Declaration of Rights--to peruse. In the Press, in
Literature, at Law, and on social ground, I meet the enemy, and I claim
my own; by heaven, I do! And I will down to the squire for a
distraction, if you esteem it necessary, certainly. Half-a-dozen .
words to him. Why, do you maintain him to be insensible to a title for
you? No, no. And ask my friends. I refer him to any dozen of my
friends to convince him I have the prize almost in my possession. Why,
dear boy, I have witnesses, living witnesses, to the ceremony. Am I,
tell me, to be deprived of money now, once again, for the eleventh time?
Oh! And put aside my duty to you, I protest I am bound in duty to her
who bore me--you have seen her miniature: how lovely that dear woman was!
how gentle!--bound in duty to her to clear her good name. This does not
affect you . . . '

'Oh, but it does,' he allowed me to plead.

'Ay, through your love for your dada.'

He shook me by both hands. I was touched with pity, and at the same time
in doubt whether it was not an actor that swayed me; for I was
discontented, and could not speak my discontent; I was overborne,
overflowed. His evasion of the matter of my objections relating to the
princess I felt to be a palpable piece of artfulness, but I had to
acknowledge to myself that I knew what his argument would be, and how
overwhelmingly his defence of it would spring forth. My cowardice shrank
from provoking a recurrence to the theme. In fact, I submitted
consciously to his masterful fluency and emotional power, and so I was
carried on the tide with him, remaining in London several days to witness
that I was not the only one. My father, admitting that money served him
in his conquest of society, and defying any other man to do as much with