第164章 To Sir WATKIN PHILLIPS, Bart. of Jesus college, Ox

He then launched out in praise of that gentleman, whom he had served as butler, representing him as a perfect miracle of goodness and generosity. He said he was a person of great learning, and allowed to be the best farmer in the country: -- that he had a lady who was as much beloved as himself, and an only son, a very hopeful young gentleman, just recovered from a dangerous fever, which had like to have proved fatal to the whole family; for, if the son had died, he was sure the parents would not have survived their loss -- He had not yet finished the encomium of Mr Dennison, when this gentleman arrived in a post-chaise, and his appearance seemed to justify all that had been said in his favour. He is pretty well advanced in years, but hale, robust, and florid, with an ingenuous countenance, expressive of good sense and humanity. Having condoled with us on the accident which had happened, he said he was come to conduct us to his habitation, where we should be less incommoded than at such a paultry inn, and expressed his hope that the ladies would not be the worse for going thither in his carriage, as the distance was not above a quarter of a mile. My uncle having made a proper return to this courteous exhibition, eyed him attentively, and then asked if he had not been at Oxford, a commoner of Queen's college? When Mr Dennison answered, 'Yes,' with some marks of surprise -- 'Look at me then (said our squire) and let us see if you can recollect the features of an old friend, whom you have not seen these forty years.' -- The gentleman, taking him by the hand, and gazing at him earnestly, --'I protest (cried he), I do think I recall the idea of Matthew Loyd of Glamorganshire, who was student of Jesus.' 'Well remembered, my dear friend, Charles Dennison (exclaimed my uncle, pressing him to his breast), I am that very identical Matthew Loyd of Glamorgan.' Clinker, who had just entered the room with some coals for the fire, no sooner heard these words, than throwing down the scuttle on the toes of Lismahago, he began to caper as if he was mad, crying -- 'Matthew Loyd of Glamorgan! -- O Providence! -- Matthew Loyd of Glamorgan!' -- Then, clasping my uncle's knees, he went on in this manner -- 'Your worship must forgive me -- Matthew Loyd of Glamorgan! -- O Lord, Sir! I can't contain myself! -- I shall lose my senses' -- 'Nay, thou hast lost them already, I believe (said the 'squire, peevishly), prithee, Clinker, be quiet -- What is the matter?' -- Humphry, fumbling in his bosom, pulled out an old wooden snuff-box, which he presented in great trepidation to his master, who, opening it immediately, perceived a small cornelian seal, and two scraps of paper -- At sight of these articles he started, and changed colour, and casting his eye upon the inscriptions -- 'Ha! -- how! -- what! where (cried he) is the person here named?' Clinker, knocking his own breast, could hardly pronounce these words -- 'Here -- here -- here is Matthew Loyd, as the certificate sheweth -- Humphry Clinker was the name of the farrier that took me 'prentice' -- 'And who gave you these tokens?' said my uncle hastily -- 'My poor mother on her death-bed' -- replied the other -- 'And who was your mother?'