Protestant Champion.

On that day Pen made his first speech at the Blue Hotel: and also, it
appears, for the first time in his life--took a little more wine than was
good for him. Mercy! what a scene it was at Fairoaks, when he rode back
at ever so much o'clock at night. What moving about of lanterns in the
court-yard and stables, though the moon was shining out; what a gathering
of servants, as Pen came home, clattering over the bridge and up the
stableyard, with half a score of the Clavering voters yelling after him
the Blue song of the election.

He wanted them all to come in and have some wine--some very good Madeira
--some capital Madeira--John, go and get some Madeira,--and there is no
knowing what the farmers would have done, had not Madam Pendennis made
her appearance in a white wrapper, with a candle--and scared those
zealous Blues so by the sight of her pale handsome face, that they
touched their hats and rode off.

Besides these amusements and occupations in which Mr. Pen indulged, there
was one which forms the main business and pleasure of youth, if the poets
tell us aright, whom Pen was always studying; and this young fellow's
heart was so ardent, and his imagination so eager, that it is not to be
expected he should long escape the passion to which we allude, and which,
ladies, you have rightly guessed to be that of Love. Pen sighed for it
first in secret, and, like the love-sick swain in Ovid, opened his breast
and said, "Aura, veni." What generous youth is there that has not courted
some such windy mistress in his time?

Yes, Pen began to feel the necessity of a first love--of a consuming
passion--of an object on which he could concentrate all those vague