WILD SPORTS OF THE WEST. 



CHAPTER I. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY, 



London, July 1st, 1829. 



NOTWITHSTANDING its dust and desertion, I am still lurk- 

 ing in the metropolis. The heat has become intolerable 

 yesterday, I imagined myself in Calcutta for never but in 

 the land of curries and red pepper did I experience anything 

 so oppressive. 



I breakfasted this morning at the Club-house. My air and 

 attitude, as I caught a glimpse of them in a concave mirror, 

 looked exquisitely disconsolate. Never was mortal more 

 ennuyi than I. Town has become a desert the world has 

 abandoned it by general consent the streets feel as if they 

 had been recently fanned by a sirocco ; and of divers unhappy 

 beings whom I encountered in my walk from Grafton- street 

 to St. James's, none seemed at ease but a bilious gentleman 

 from Bombay, and the French fellow who exhibits in the oven. 

 The thermometer, in a shaded corner of the room, is sta- 

 tionary at 82. To remain longer here would be suicidal ; 

 but, where to go whither to fly alas ! I know not. 



Would that you were near me, then should I be certain of 

 sympathy and counsel for at this moment, there is not a 

 more persecuted gentleman in the King's dominions. But I 

 will make a clean breast and to render my confessions expla- 

 natory, I must favour you with some particulars of my private 

 history. 



As autobiographers enjoy a prescriptive privilege of exhibit- 

 ing their ancestors, I shall take the liberty of incrotiuc. : iig my 



