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agent, voted in favour of it, on which the king complained to the bishop. "Sire," replied the subservient prelate, "I'll turn him off to-morrow," and kept his promise. The bishop's sister married Admiral Lord Sandwich, a fit associate for a man of his principles, who, whenever he used to speak to the king of any subject before the Restoration, commenced, "When I was a rebel." On the accession of his patron to the throne, Crewe went headlong into all the destructive measures, which reduced the Stuart family from the dignity of kings and princes, to pretenders and wanderers. He displaced the constitutional Bishop Compton as dean of the closet, and on the erection of the new ecclesiastical commission court, was appointed a member of it, and was present at and supported all the illegalities which issued from it. In July 1687, Crewe offered James to attend the pope's nuncio at his public entry into London, and was only prevented by his coachman refusing to drive him. Immediately the sagacious, but obsequious bishop found that the prince of Orange's party would ultimately succeed, he absented himself from the council-board, and begged to be reconciled to his constitutional brethren. After James fled the kingdom, Crewe joined the convocation that met, and joined in the vote that James had abdicated the throne. Being however excepted out of the general pardon, he fled to Holland. Luckily for his temporary interests, he had taken out his pardon, for his conduct in the high commission, two days before James's abdication, and this being held legal, preserved him his ecclesiastical benefices, but he was obliged to place all his preferment at the disposal of the crown. When in Holland, Crewe was permitted to kiss William's hand, during a visit made by that monarch to his native dominions, and had the impudence to ask what his offence was, on which the king turned his back upon him. He returned to London in July 1689, only the day preceding the expiration of the term limited for taking the oaths to the new government, which he immediately, without scruple, took at Guildhall. During the remainder of William's reign, he remained quiet and unmolested, but was not admitted at court. His private fortune, however, prospered; by the death of his elder brothers he became Baron Crewe; married first the widow of Sir Hugh Tynte, and afterwards Dorothy, the beautiful daughter of Sir William Forster, of Bamburgh Castle. He was looked on as one of the leading men of the Jacobite party; he treated with kindness and attention Sir John Fenwick, when a prisoner for high treason, for which he received the thanks of King James, and forgiveness for "all other things." On William's death, a relation of the bishop's deplored his short reign; to which the bishop, pining when absent from the rays of court favour, exclaimed with a sigh, "Good, -truly, I thought it was a long one." Lord Crewe again enjoyed some gleams of royal favour on the accession of Anne, and appeared at his place supporting the queen's right hand at her coronation. He appears to have lost no occasion of soliciting promotion; once, when attending the Princess Anne, she admired his lordship's cane—“ With that," said he, "when I was Lord Lieutenant," which office he had been deprived of by William, "I gave the word of command." The princess on this reply turned her attention to his dress, and took particular notice of his cap, and said, "if it were in her power, she would

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remove him to a better cap." On her becoming queen he said, a bishop, he prayed for her, but as her lieutenant he would fight for her." He strenuously opposed the prosecution of Dr. Sacheverell, for which he was received by the gentry and clergy on his return to his diocese in procession, and was restored to the lord-lieutenancy. Crewe was again rising in court favour, when the death of Anne once more blasted his hopes. He, however, at the hazard of his health, the only exertion probably for which the house of Brunswick was in his debt, hastened to London on the arrival of George I. and officiated at his place at the coronation, when he did not fail to remind his majesty "that he had been supporter at three coronations, -King George's, Queen Anne's, and King James's." "Oh, King James's," said the king; "where were you at King William's?" "Sire, I was then in the Low Countries," was the reply. The bishop, on going afterwards to pay his respects to the king, found admittance denied to him; on which he requested the persons in waiting to "tell the king, he only came to see him, for he had nothing to ask." In a day or two George gave orders that whenever" that good man" came to see him, he should be immediately admitted; which being done, and the bishop having kept his promises, the king dismissed him, "hoping it would be many years before he named his successor!" The bishop spent the remainder of his life in comparative retirement, in the enjoyment of every thing that a splendid establishment and an ample income could afford. In a hospitable age he was noted for his hospitality; he kept open house both at Bishop Auckland and at his seat in Leicestershire, receiving and entertaining all ranks of people; he was tenacious of respect to his station, and felt hurt if not visited by all his neighbours, particularly clergymen. When in his last illness his early political opinions pressed with all the powerful associations connected with his best days upon his mind, and, as he lay dying on a couch before the fire, he cried out, with almost his last breath, mindful of the indifference and insult, with which his servile homage to the houses of Nassau and Hanover had been received, to his chaplair Dr. Richard Grey," Dick, don't you go over to them -don't you go over to them." Although Bishop Crewe's life was a continued scene of political tergiversation and courtly meanness, the last act of his life will be remembered long after time has drawn a veil over his public errors. Even now he is better known by his charities than his vices. The bishop's brother-in-law, John Forster, M. P. for Northumberland, having forfeited his large estates for his share in the rebellion of 1715, Lord Crewe purchased the whole of the family possessions from government, and by his last will settled them for charitable purposes. The revenues of these estates now exceed 80007. per annum, and being for the most part unfettered by any positive regulations of the founder, have flowed unimpeded through various channels of public and private bounty. "Many men," it is well remarked by one who touches on his history, "have been canonized for much inferior works of beneficence to those of this prelate." Mr. Edward Wortley Montagu, the husband of Lady Mary Montagu, was a descendant of the bishop's sister, the countess of Sandwich.

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THE BARONESS.-A NOVEL.

BY PARISIANUS.

(Continued from page 274.)

CHAPTER V.

A DISCLOSURE.

WHEN Sans-gêne awoke in the morning, he rubbed his eyes, and strove to collect his scattered ideas so as to call to mind the events of the preceding evening. He laughed heartily when, in the midst of many confused reminiscences, his memory furnished him with the fact of his having despatched M. Delville to Calais by the night diligence; and when the waiter entered his apartment, an unconquerable and continued risibility for some time prevented him from answering the enquiries of that individual concerning the old gentleman. "He has taken a singular freak into his head, and performed it," said Sans-gêne, amidst peals of laughter.

"Ah!" ejaculated the waiter; "and pray what might the freak be, Monsieur ?" he added in a respectful tone.

"To get drunk, and go to Calais to drink soda-water," was the reply.

The waiter opened his eyes in unfeigned astonishment, and shrugged his shoulders doubtfully, as he muttered a "Je n'y comprends rien."

"Despatch, waiter, and prepare my breakfast," cried Sans-gêne, when the immoderate ebullition of his mirth had somewhat abated; "for I have important business to transact with M. Deleux, the solicitor, who, by the way, invited me to breakfast with him: but I dare not venture out with an empty stomach; so use despatch—and, waiter-"

"What is your pleasure, Monsieur ?" said the garçon.

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"Have the goodness to enquire at the office down stairs, if two or three trunks and half a dozen carpet bags arrived from Paris by the waggon this morning, addressed A sa seigneurie-' no, I mean to 'M. Sans-géne, voyageur, Boulogne-sur-Mer.' "Certainly, Sir," returned the waiter. mission to be executed for Monsieur ?" "Yes-when I recollect myself-call at the banker's in the Rue de l'Ecu, and enquire if a remittance have been received for me." The waiter bowed, and retired to perform those errands which Sans-gêne knew perfectly well would lead to no result, for his whole wardrobe had accompanied him from Paris in a certain red cotton handkerchief before alluded to, and his present pecuniary possessions were limited to sevenpence halfpenny in sous on the mantel-piece. "The waggon is not yet arrived, Monsieur," said the waiter, when he re-entered the room, after the lapse of a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes; "and the banker has not yet received any advice from Paris relative to your remittances."

"As for the money," said Sans-gêne very coolly, "I do not care about that; but my baggage-that is the essential point-for I travelled purposely in a very old suit, and am ashamed to appear before my lawyer, from whom I am to receive a considerable sum of money, in such habiliments: not but that my coat is cut in the first Parisian fashion" (it had been purchased at an old clothes' shop for the handsome sum of twelve franes)" and my breeches" (which he had borrowed from a friend in 1821)" were new only three weeks ago." “If, Monsieur—" began the waiter.

"Speak-do not be alarmed, my dear fellow," said Sans-gêne, affecting indifference as to the nature of the communication about to be made, although he full well divined the nature of it.

"I have a Sunday suit-" continued the timid garçon. "And I have sixteen on the road," observed Sans-gêne. "Which, if Monsieur would accept for a day," said the waiter. "Three of mine are of superfine black cloth-" added Sans-gêne, "It is at Monsieur's service,” achieved the attendant. "With velvet collars" remarked Sans-gêne.

"No-it has no velvet about it," interrupted the waiter, fancying that the gentleman of the extensive wardrobe was alluding to the coat he so liberally proffered.

"And I shall reward you with fifty francs," cried Sans-gêne, by way of cutting the matter short, to the great relief of the waiter, who was afraid he had not been fully understood.

The clothes were produced, and, considering that the waiter was but ten inches taller than Sans-gêne, they did not fit badly. At all events they were better than the rejected articles; and when Sansgêne had completed his toilet, made a copious breakfast, and washed down the same with a bottle of St. Emilion, he hurried to the house in which M. Deleux resided. Having waited twenty minutes in the outer office, during which time a clerk was employed in informing M. Deleux of the client's arrival, and a quarter of an hour in the solicitor's private cabinet, whither he was eventually shown, Sansgêne began to feel a certain uneasiness in thus being forced to tarry so unreasonable a time, and accordingly commenced the perusal of some of the lawyer's private papers that lay scattered on the desk, to while away a few minutes-a task which he found somewhat difficult. But the obsequious bows, numerous welcomes, and cordial invitations liberally proffered by M. Deleux, when he entered the room, entirely effaced any disagreeable impression before received. A quarter of an hour was expended in a mutual exchange of compliments; and when all the politeness that the French language and French manners are capable of demonstrating had been effectually lavished on each other by those gentlemen, they proceeded to business, the lawyer opening the conversation in these terms:

"The respected M. Sans-gêne died very suddenly," observed the solicitor.

"Through his predilection for fried eels, was it not?"

"Alas! poor man-it was," returned the lawyer very seriously. "And his money-bags, M. Deleux-were they tolerably well lined?" enquired the anxious client.

"The late venerable M. Sans-gêne, who for many years had carried on a certain commercial intercourse with our transmarine neighbours, the English," began M. Deleux with peculiar solemnity—

"Smuggling, I suppose," interrupted Sans-gêne, as he laid his right foot on the corner of the solicitor's desk, thereby interposing the well-polished boot, supplied by the waiter, between his own physiognomy and that of the lawyer; "smuggling, eh? was it not?" "If we must descend to particular details," observed M. Deleux, "it was by those daring transactions that the venerable M. Sans-gêne amassed the sum of twenty-five thousand francs."

"Twenty-five thousand francs!" shouted Sans-gêne in raptures. "Precisely," answered the lawyer. "Which sum, in the plenitude of his kindness, he has left to you," continued the man of business, "as well as divers barrels of spirituous liquors, some furniture, plate, linen, a waggon with three wheels, a lame horse, a mule, some oriental snakes preserved in spirits, and other valuables duly noticed in a catalogue of the effects."

"Of which I stand much in need," remarked the heir.

"What? of the waggon or the linen?" cried the lawyer in astonishment.

"Oh! no, thank God-but of the property," said Sans-gêne, correcting himself. "At this very moment I have no less than six dozens of fine linen shirts, with cambric bosoms-three dozens—”

"Mille pardons!" exclaimed the lawyer; "but my time is precious, and I can readily take your word for the various articles that form your wardrobe. Should you intend to reside at Boulogne-" "Decidedly not," said Sans-gêne, taking up the solicitor's penknife to pair his nails.

"Then, in that case, perhaps the best step that could be taken, would be to realize the personal property, and convert the whole into ready money."

"Monsieur," replied Sans-gêne, "you are a very Solomon-a Locman-an upright judge. Realize the property, and, in the meantime, give me a little cash for immediate purposes."

"With pleasure," answered M. Deleux. "But first, I must communicate a very important secret to you-a secret that has reposed in my breast for the last twenty years-a secret that the late venerated M. Sans-gêne entrusted to my ears on his first arrival at Boulogne."

"Sacrebleu!" exclaimed Sans-gêne; "here is a mystery! Pray, was the old gentleman a king in disguise, a prophet, or a necromancer?" Neither, my dear Sir; but he was not your father!"

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"Not my father!" ejaculated Sans-gêne; "I suppose, however, that his wife was my mother?"

"No-M. Sans-gêne, you were no farther connected with the family of the late respected gentleman than by adoption. The name you at present bear, moreover, is neither your own, nor that of your putative father: circumstances, the nature of which he never explained even to me, induced him to assume that appellation, instead of his true one, which was Ménard-Paul Ménard."

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