estimation
in which he was held, as well as to his own impatience of stain or dishonour. At
length he thought proper to return to England, with the intention of spending
the rest of his days at the residence of his ancestors.
 

                                  Chapter III

From the moment he entered upon the execution of this purpose, dictated as it
probably was by an unaffected principle of duty, his misfortunes took their
commencement. All I have farther to state of his history is the uninterrupted
persecution of a malignant destiny, a series of adventures that seemed to take
their rise in various accidents, but pointing to one termination. Him they
overwhelmed with an anguish he was of all others least qualified to bear; and
these waters of bitterness, extending beyond him, poured their deadly venom upon
others, I being myself the most unfortunate of their victims.
    The person in whom these calamities originated, was Mr. Falkland's nearest
neighbour, a man of estate equal to his own, by name, Barnabas Tyrrel. This man
one might at first have supposed of all others least qualified from instruction,
or inclined by the habits of his life, to disturb the enjoyments of a mind so
richly endowed as that of Mr. Falkland. Mr. Tyrrel might have passed for a true
model of the English squire. He was early left under the tuition of his mother,
a woman of narrow capacity, and who had no other child. The only remaining
member of the family it may be necessary to notice, was miss Emily Melvile, the
orphan daughter of Mr. Tyrrel's paternal aunt; who now resided in the family
mansion, and was wholly dependent on the benevolence of its proprietors. Mrs.
Tyrrel appeared to think that there was nothing in the world so precious as her
hopeful Barnabas. Every thing must give way to his accommodation and advantage;
every one must yield the most servile obedience to his commands. He must not be
teased or restricted by any forms of instruction; and of consequence his
proficiency even in the arts of writing and reading was extremely slender. From
his birth he was muscular and sturdy; and, confined to the ruelle of his mother,
he made much such a figure as the whelp-lion that a barbarian might have given
for a lap-dog to his mistress. But he soon broke loose from these trammels, and
formed an acquaintance with the groom and the gamekeeper. Under their
instruction he proved as ready a scholar as he had been indocile and restive to
the pedant who held the office of his tutor. It was now evident that his small
proficiency in literature was by no