Vanity Fair

and Conf

elia Sedley, Russell Square,

T, SWEETE

Oh, what a change between to-day and yesterday! Now I am friendless and alone; yester

at the Perkins's, the prettiest, I am sure, of all the young ladies at the Ball. I was brought by the groom in the old carriage to Sir Pitt Crawley's town house, where, after John the groom had behaved most rudely and insolently to me (alas! 'twa

stumpy, short, vulgar, and very dirty man, in old clothes and shabby old gaiters, who smokes a horrid pipe, and cooks his own horrid supper in a saucepan. He speaks with a country accent, a

ain began to fall very heavily-will you believe it?-I was forced to come outside; for Sir Pitt is a proprietor of the coach, and as a passenger came at Mudbury, who wanted

); and the young gentleman made me remark that we drove very slow for the last two stages on the road, because Sir Pitt was on the box, and because he is proprietor of the horses for this part of the journey. "But won't I flog 'em on to Squashmore, when I take

baronet's park in state. There is a fine avenue of a mile long leading to the house, and the woman at the lodge-gate (over the pillars of which are a serpent and a

talked about distraining, and selling up, and draining and subsoiling, and a great deal about tenants and farming-much more than I could understand. Sam Miles had been caught poaching, and Peter Bailey had gone to the workhouse at last. "Serve him right," said Sir Pitt; "him an

d before them, in the midst of a lawn, and some outhouses, an old red house with tall chimne

EDER WORD); "how's Buty, Hodson? Buty's my brother Bute, my dea

ding his head, said, "I'm afraid he's better, Sir Pitt.

same wicked word). Will brandy and water never kill h

is home from college. They've whopped J

keeper!" roare

, "I've sold the presentation of the living, Hodson; none of that breed shall get it, I war'nt"; and Mr. Hodson said he was quite right: and I have no doubt from this that the two brothers are at

'em, Hodson," roared the baronet; "flog their little souls out, and bring 'em up to the house, the vagabonds; I'll commit 'em as sure as my name's Pitt." And presently we

were ready to m

he. "Go to bed in the dark, you pretty little hussy" (that is what he called me), "and unless you wish me to come for the candle every night, mind and be in bed at eleven." And with this, he and Mr. Horrocks the butler went off laughing. You may be sure I shall not encourage any more of their visits. Th

urned out, some dressed in long straight stays and gowns that look as stiff as towers, and some with long ringlets, and oh, my dear! scarcely any stays at all. At one end of the hall is the great staircase all in black oak, as dismal as may be, and on either side are tall doors with stags' heads over them, leading to the billiard-room and the library, and the great yellow saloon and the morning-rooms. I think there are at least twenty bedrooms on the first floor; one of them has the bed in which Queen Elizabeth slept; and I have been taken by my new pupils through all these fine apartments this morning. They are not

ttle chits of ten and eight years old). I came down in your dear muslin gown (about which that odious Mrs. Pinner was so rude, because

e looks as if she had been handsome once, and her eyes are always weeping for the loss of her beauty. She is pale and meagre and high-shouldered, and has not a word to say for herself, evidently. Her stepson Mr. Crawley, was likewise in the room. He was

ley," said Lady Crawley, coming forw

ad once forward and began again to read

irls," said Lady Crawley, with h

ys the butler in black, in an immense white shirt-frill, that looked as if it had been one of the Queen Elizabeth's ruffs depicted in

ittle dumpy legs in black worsted stockings. The sideboard was covered with glistening old plate-old cups, both gold and silver; old salvers and cruet-stands, like Ru

d Sir Pitt said amen, and the gre

dinner, Betsy?"

lieve, Sir Pitt," a

, moutongonavvy); "and the soup is potage de mouton a l'Ecossaise. The

ing. What SHIP was it, Horrocks, and when did you kill?" "On

took

o legs, Sir Pitt; but he says the last was

otage, Miss ah-Miss B

r," said Sir Pitt, "though th

as served to us on silver soup plates by the footmen in the canary coats, with the mouton aux navets. Then "ale and water" were bro

r Pitt took occasion to ask what had

en in the servants' hall

rrocks, "and precious little

onversation with Mr. Horrocks. "That there little blac

ith the gravest air, at which Sir Pitt, and with him

d Mr. Crawley, "your laughter strikes

porker on Saturday. Kill un on Saturday morning, John

ttle glasses of wine, and a bumper was poured out for my lady. When we retired, she took from her work-drawer an enormous interminable piece of knitting; the young ladies began to play at cribbage with a dirty pack of cards. We had but one candle

n hour until st

; "put down Mr. Crawley's books, Miss Sharp"; and these order

s a-Miss Short may have an opportunity of hearing you"; and the poor girls began to spell a long dismal sermon deliv

teady in his gait; and after him the butler, the canaries, Mr. Crawley's man, three other men, smelling very much of the stable, and f

d our candles, and then we went to bed; and then I was disturbed

ousand, thousand

picking fruit to send to market, and from whom they begged hard a bunch of hot-house grapes; but he said that Sir Pitt had numbered every "Man Jack" of them, and it would be as much as his plac

the butler. Mr. Crawley always reads sermons in the evening, and in the morning is locked up in his study, or else rid

amma. Is your poor brother recovered of his rack-punch? O

ver thine

d. That she might, when on her knees, have been thinking of something better than Miss Horrocks's ribbons, has possibly struck both of us. But my kind reader will please to remember that this history has "Vanity Fair" for a title, and that Vanity Fair is a very vain, wicked, foolish place, full of all sorts of humbugs and falsenesses and pretensions. And while the moralist, who is holding fo

assion with some of the villains whose wicked deeds he was describing and inventing, that the audience could not resist it; and they and the poet together would burst out into a

ts, such as those of infames Anglais, brutal Cossacks, and what not, and prefer to appear at a smaller salary, in their real characters as loyal Frenchmen. I set the two stories one against the other, so that you may see that it is not f

r rascals, I promise you. When we come to the proper places we won't spare fine language-No, no! But when we are going over the quiet country we must perforce be calm. A tempest in

from the platform, and talk about them: if they are good and kindly, to love them and shake them by the hand: if they are silly, to laugh at

reas the laughter comes from one who has no reverence except for prosperity, and no eye for anything beyond success. Such people there are living and flourishing in the world-Faithless, Hopeless, Charityl