540 ' The Sycophant. [Nov. 



pect, or, despite his likeness to his uncle, he is no son of my good 

 brother of Bearfoot Hall." 



Winterton Bearfoot bowed in so obsequious a manner on entering his 

 uncle's presence, and inclined his body, which was long and lean, so 

 completely after the fashion of a falling tower, that he had established 

 himself for some moments on the corner of a high-backed chair, before 

 Sir Basil could regard or observe the expression of his sharp, keen 

 features. It was, in truth, one of those faces which, even in age, it is 

 painful enough to look upon, because it tells of suspicion and mistrust : 

 but in youth — when we love the open brow, the clear calm eye, that re- 

 flects the purity of heaven, and brightens with the beams of truth — it is 

 sad, I say, to see the features in the spring of life, worn, and contracted, 

 and gangreened with that loathsome suspicion which narrows the eye, 

 furrows the cheek, and teaches the mouth to smile in such a sort, that 

 you would rather it never smiled at all. Winterton Bearfoot was not 

 yet twenty, but he had set his heart (without consulting his head) upon 

 being a Metternich at the very least ; and, as a preparation for the 

 diplomatic situation he hoped to fill, commenced by practising the art of 

 deception upon every biped and quadruped at the Hall. He was 

 hardly thirteen, when his fathers game-keeper detected him snaring 

 hares, and bagging young partridges ; and it was the universal opinion 

 that he entertained no hking for any living creature except himself. 

 As he grew older, he practised the art of betraying upon the other sex, 

 and that with so much success, that all the old dames in the parish made 

 bonfires in honour of his departure ; nor was this much to be wondered 

 at : — his father gave him " Lord Chesterfield's Letters to his Son," to 

 form his manners, andof himself he adopted "Rochfocault's Maxims" to 

 form his mind. These precious monitors, acting upon a crafty and ill- 

 directed brain, aided his spurious ambition, and bid fair to make Win- 

 terton Bearfoot — not a second Metternich, but a smooth, creeping 

 scoundrel. 



It requires much more talent than people are in general aware of, to 

 form a respectable rascal. 



It is true that the aspirant's smile was insidious, but not sufficiently 

 so to deceive the initiated ; and his eagerness to appear what he was 

 not, led those versed in the world's ways to believe that he was even 

 more weak than wicked. " We take cunning," says Bacon, in his 

 admirable Essays — "we take cunning for a sinister and crooked wisdom," 

 and certainly there is a great difference between a cmming man, and 

 a wise man, not only in point of honesty, but in point of ability. 

 True, and that was precisely the difference which existed between the 

 minds of the uncle and nephew ; and though the cunning may some- 

 times pass for the wise, a little time reads the difference clearly. 



" I like our cousin so much," said the baronet's youngest daughter 

 (he unfortunately had no sons), climbing on his knee, after Winterton 

 had been domesticated about six weeks in the family ; " he is so atten- 

 tive to Emma, and has presented her such a sweet ring with a heart's-ease 

 . upon it, and a pretty motto." " Indeed," was papa's answer. And Sir 

 Basil, whose observations had presented him no inclination to bestow his 

 eldest daughter upon his second nephew, without farther comment, sat 

 down, and wrote to a brother minister, requesting that he would 

 provide for Winterton in the Colonial Office ; quaintly adding, that he 

 had no particular desire to settle him in " the home department," but 



