to him the greatest of all privations. He had been himself the first to solicit the attention of De Brooke, who, to an indifferent spectator, might have seemed of the two the most calculated to excite commiseration, and, judging from circumstances, the manifestation of his grief, though but little obtrusive, appearing the more to centre within him, heightened by the anguish and deep wounds inflicted by a self-accusing and tender conscience, gave a peculiar poignancy to sufferings to which the others were strangers.
"These external manners of laments
Are merely shadows to the unseen grief
That swells with silence in the tortur'd soul."
The Baronet had hitherto injured no one but himself; on the contrary, the debt which then confined him had arisen from an excess of neighbourly kindness, and the law had taken its course. As to the Marquis, a sharer with so many in his nation's calamities, fate had robbed him of his patrimony, had exiled him from his country, had deprived him of the means of sustenance, and his debts had been entailed from his procuring for himself and little family the mere necessaries of existence.
Finding De Brooke, in despite of his own private afflictions, was inclined to lend him a com-
