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PAUL CLIFFORD.
CHAPTER V.
Ye realms yet unrevealed to human sight!
Ye canes athwart the hapless hands that write!
Ye Critic Chiefs—permit me to relate
The mystic wonders of your silent state!
Virgil Æn. B. 6.
Fortune had smiled upon Mr. Mac Grawler since he first undertook the tuition of Mrs. Lobkins' protégé. He now inhabited a second-floor, and defied the sheriff and his evil spirits. It was at the dusk of evening that Paul found him at home and alone.
Before the mighty man stood a pot of London porter; a candle, with an unregarded wick, shed its solitary light upon his labours; and an infant
