ing, and occasionally referring to scenes which made me shudder. But he was my son, my only son, and I loved him as much as ever. He was now but seldom at home, for he lived almost at the gaming tables; if he came to me, it was to extort money, and he never failed. I sold out my property to support his extravagance, and by degrees it was rapidly diminishing. I begged him, I entreated him, to be more prudent; but he laughed, and promised to return me all the first lucky hit he should make ; but that lucky hit never came, and at last I had but two thousand pounds left. This I positively refused to part with, the interest of it was barely sufficient for my wants; I asked no more, but I expostulated and I reasoned with him in vain. He only begged me for five hundred pounds; if I sold the money out, he would tell me where I might have as good interest for the fifteen hundred pounds as I now received for the two thousand pounds. He begged and entreated me, he kissed, and he even wept; I could not withstand his importunities. I sold out the money, and gave him the sum he wanted; the fifteen hundred pounds I put by in my desk, to invest as he had pointed out. That very night he forced the lock, took out the money, and left me without a sixpence in the world."

"What a villain!" exclaimed I.

"Yes, you may say so, Jack; but who made him such a villain, but his foolish doting mother? Had I done him justice, had I checked him when young, had I brought him up as I ought to have done, he might now have been a happiness and a blessing to his mother. I was the person to blame, not he; and many years of anguish have I lamented my folly and my wretchedness."

"You loved him too much, mother; but it was a fault on the right side."

"No, Jack, that is an error of yours; it was a fault on the wrong side. There is no credit to a mother in loving her children, for she cannot help it. It is a natural instinct implanted in the mother's heart by the Almighty, and, in following this instinct, we do no more than the beasts of the field. The duty of a mother is to check that feeling as far as it interferes with the happiness and well-doing of her children; and it is her duty to do so, and to

punish herself in correcting her children. Jack, it is a selfish feeling which induces mothers to spoil their children."

You

"At all events, my mother has never spoilt me," replied I. "No, Jack, she has not; but observe the consequence. said just now that excessive tenderness was a fault on the right side; now, how completely have you proved the contrary! I do not intend to defend your mother's conduct towards you; she has been unkind to you in your childhood, and has never shown the affection that a mother ought; but is not her fault a fault on the right side? Jack, you recollect my saying what a difference,' when you told me what you had done for your mother; I then referred to my son and to you. I indulged him in every thing, sacrificed every thing, and he robbed me and left me a beggar. Your mother has been severe upon you, and yet, the first time you have the means of showing your duty, you give her all the money you have in the world. Your mother may not be right, Jack, but I was dreadfully wrong, and the result has proved it.”

"Well, mother, go on, pray."

My story is now soon told. I struggled on how I could, for more than two years, by selling my furniture and a few ornaments: then the blow came. When I heard it, I would not remain in the town; I left for London, picked up my living how I could and where I could, till at last I came down here. Time was as a dream; reflection was too painful. I felt that it was all my fault, all my own doing. My heart became hardened, and continued so till I loved you, Jack; and now I have better feelings, at least I think

so."

-

"But, mother, what was the blow? Is he dead?" "Yes, Jack, dead dead on the gibbet. He was hanged for piracy, at Port Royal, Jamaica. — Jack," said Nanny, seizing my hand, and pressing it in her long fingers, "this is a secret; recollect, a secret deep as the grave; promise me, as you hope for heaven!"

"I do, mother, as I hope for heaven."

"Now, Jack, leave me. Good-by. You will come and see me when you return, and never bring this subject up again. Bless you, my child! bless you!"

I left poor old Nanny with her face buried in her apron; and it was in a very melancholy mood that I returned home; I could not help thinking of the picture in the spelling-book, where the young man at the gallows is biting off the ear of his mother, who, by her indulgence, had brought him to that disgrace.

CHAP. XXX.

STRONG SYMPTOMS OF MUTINY, WHICH IS FORTUNATELY QUELLED BY GRANTING A SUPPLY

It was a beautiful sunshiny warm morning when I arose, and, as Bramble intended that we should leave Greenwich the next day, I thought I might as well call at the house of Dr. Tadpole, and try if I could see him before I went. When I arrived there, he was not at home, but my namesake Tom was, as usual, in the shop. Tom was two or three years older than me, being between seventeen and eighteen, and he had now grown a great tall fellow. We always were very good friends, when we occasionally met, and he generally appeared to be as good tempered and grinning as ever; but when I now entered the shop, I found him very grave and dejected, so much so that I could not help asking him what was the matter.

"Matter enough, I think," said Tom, who was pounding something in the mortar. "I'll not stay here, that's flat. I'll break my indentures, as sure as my name's Tom Cob, and I'll set up an opposition, and I'll join the Friends of the People Society, and the AntiBible Society, and every other opposition Anti in the country." "Why, what has happened, Tom?"

"I'll make speeches against Church and against State, and against the Aristocracy, and Habeas Corpus, and against Physic, and against Standing Armies, and Magna Charta, and every other

rascally tyranny and oppression to which we are subjected; that I will." Here Tom gave such a thump with the pestle, that I thought he would have split the mortar.

"But what is it, Tom?" inquired I, as I sat down. "What has the Doctor done?"

66

Why, I'll tell you; the liquorice is all gone, and he won't order any more."

"Well, that is because you have eaten it all."

"No, I haven't; I haven't eaten a bit for these five weeks: it's all been used in pharmacopey, honestly used, and he can't deny it." "Who used it?"

Why, I did; he said he wouldn't stand my eating liquorice, and I told him that I shouldn't eat any more. No more I have, but I a'n't well, and I prescribes for myself. Haven't I a right to do that? Mayn't I physic myself? I'm a doctor as well as he is. Who makes up all the medicine, I should like to know? who ties up the bottles, and writes directions? Well, my insides are out of order, and I prescribes for myself-black draughts omnes duas horas sumendum;' and now he says, that, as the ingredients are all gone, I shan't take any more."

"And pray what were the ingredients, Tom?"

، Why, laxative and alterative, as suits my complaint - Extract. liquor. — aqua pura - haustus."

"And what is that?"

،،

Liquorice and water, to be sure; there's nothing else I can take: I've tasted every thing in the shop, from plate powder to aqua fortis, and every thing goes against my stomach."

، Well, Tom, it's a hard case; but perhaps the doctor will think better of it."

"He'd better, or I'll set up for myself, for I won't stand it any longer; it a'n't only for myself but for others that I care. Why, I've a hankering for Anny Whistle, (you know her, don't you?) a pretty little girl with red lips lives in Church Street. Well, as long as I could bring her a bit of liquorice when I went to see her, all was smooth enough, and I got many a kiss when no one was nigh; but now that I can't fork out a bit as big as a marble.

she's getting quite shy of me, and is always walking with Bill, the butcher's boy. I know he gives her bulls'-eyes-I seed him one day buying a ha'porth. Now, a'n't that hard?"

Why, certainly, the affair becomes serious; but still, how you are to set up for yourself I don't know. You are not qualified." "O! a'n't I? just as much as most doctors are. There must be a beginning, and if I gives wrong medicine at first, then I'll try another, and so on until I come to what will cure them. Soon learn, Tom."

"Well, but how will you do about surgery?" "Surgery, oh I'll do very

well

don't know much about it just

Why, would you venture to take off a man's leg, Tom? do you know how to take up the arteries?"

"Would I take off a man's leg? to be sure I would, as quick as the doctor could. As for the arteries, why I might puzzle a little about them; but, by the time I had taken off three or four legs, I should know something about them. Practice makes perfectsoon learn, Tom."

"But all your first patients would die."

"I don't know that, At all events I should do my best, and no man can do more; and if they did die, why it would be by the visitation of God, wouldn't it?"

"Not altogether, I'm afraid. It won't do, Tom."

"It has done from the beginning of the world, and will do. I say there's no learning without practice - people spoil at first in every trade, and make afterwards; and a man a'n't born a doctor any more than he is a carpenter."

No; but, if I recollect right, to be a surgeon you ought to walk the hospital, as they term it."

"Well, and haven't I for these last four years? When I carries out my basket of physic, I walks the hospital right through, twice at least every day in the week."

"That's Greenwich Hospital."

"Well, so it is; and plenty of surgical cases in it. However, the doctor and I must come to a proper understanding: I didn't