noiseless hand,—and vanished. Sweet Reader, while thou art wondering at his absence, suppose we account for his appearance.
One evening, Clifford and his companion Augustus had been enjoying the rational amusement of Ranelagh, and were just leaving that celebrated place, when they were arrested by a crowd at the entrance. That crowd was assembled round a pickpocket; and that pickpocket—O Virtue!—O Wisdom!—O Asinæum!—was Peter Mac Grawler! We have before said, that Clifford was possessed of a good mien and an imposing manner, and these advantages were at that time especially effectual in preserving our Orbilius from the pump. No sooner did Clifford recognise the magisterial face of the sapient Scot, than he boldly thrust himself into the middle of the crowd, and, collaring the enterprising citizen who had collared Mac Grawler, declared himself ready to vouch for the honesty of the very respectable person whose identity had evidently been so grossly mistaken. Augustus, probably foreseeing some ingenious rûse of his companions, instantly seconded the defence. The mob, who never descry any difference be-
