I reached Graden Wester before ten in the forenoon; for in those
days I was an excellent pedestrian, and the distance, as I think I
have said, was little over seven miles; fine walking all the way
upon the springy turf. The village is one of the bleakest on that
coast, which is saying much: there is a church in a hollow; a
miserable haven in the rocks, where many boats have been lost as
they returned from fishing; two or three score of stone houses
arranged along the beach and in two streets, one leading from the
harbour, and another striking out from it at right angles; and, at
the corner of these two, a very dark and cheerless tavern, by way
of principal hotel.
I had dressed myself somewhat more suitably to my station in life,
and at once called upon the minister in his little manse beside the
graveyard. He knew me, although it was more than nine years since
we had met; and when I told him that I had been long upon a walking
tour, and was behind with the news, readily lent me an armful of
newspapers, dating from a month back to the day before. With these
I sought the tavern, and, ordering some breakfast, sat down to
study the "Huddlestone Failure."
It had been, it appeared, a very flagrant case. Thousands of
persons were reduced to poverty; and one in particular had blown
out his brains as soon as payment was suspended. It was strange to
myself that, while I read these details, I continued rather to
sympathise with Mr.
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