which he had for years chiefly devoted his powers as a conversationalist) had never crossed his mind, except as a profane idea which it was sinful for a moment to harbour. In short, had Doctor Wyndham been a man as well qualified to command his grandson's love as he was to excite his admiration, Reuben would have regarded him with an enthusiasm little short of what another Luther might have inspired. To Luther, indeed, his mother and he had frequently exercised and pleased themselves by comparing their distinguished relative. It will easily be believed that no alalogy with Melancthon was very likely to suggest itself to the most partial of the Dean's friends.

Reuben had never forgotten that glorious sermon, with which he had heard the Cathedral of Hereford, nave and choir, resound; the thunders of which had scared the rooks from their settlements in the square tower, and frighted from their propriety the neighbouring closes. That those eloquent denunciations of the vile doctrine of expediency, which had thrilled him when a schoolboy, were nothing but sound and vapour, he was not prepared to admit. He was determined to believe that there was still such a thing as principle in the world; or at least that among the apostates from it, the name of Wyndham would not be found.

66

Well," said Primrose, at length, after a great deal of unavailing remonstrance, "don't make enemies for yourself among the bishops, at all events: avoid personal allusions. Though it is whispered that one or two of the right reverend bench are about to veer with the wind from Downing-street, you are under no necessity of adverting to them, or to anybody else about whom similar reports are current."

"On the contrary," said Reuben, ostentatiously, "my intention is to paint the character of an apostate Churchman in the most glowing colours: in fact, this will be absolutely necessary for the effect of my speech."

"Totally irrelevant, however," said Winning, calmly; "but that, I know, was considered a slight objection in the debates of our society at Cambridge. Besides, what right have you to set up yourself as the judge of any man's sincerity, or the impugner of any man's motives?"

"Will you allow Winning, or me, to see what you have prepared?" asked Primrose.

"Certainly," said Reuben.

He redeemed his pledge in a few days.

The character of the apostate Churchman was the portrait of

his grandfather, in everything but the details and personal features. His friends looked at one another in amazement; then pressed on him, as strongly as they could, that should the rumours of the Dean's change of opinions have any foundation in fact, the delivery of such a passage by his grandson could hardly fail to lead to an irreparable breach between them.

"But my grandfather is not about to apostatise—for it comes to that," replied Reuben, with confidence and displeasure; "so that your premises fall to the ground, and your conclusion tumbles along with them."

Winning perceived that argument was useless, and left the room before he lost his temper.

De Tabley came in almost the next instant. Primrose asked him what news he had; for De Tabley, through his uncle, who was in parliament, and closely connected with a member of the ministry, had often pretty good information of what was going on behind the scenes.

66

Nothing talked of but desertions," he answered; "we shall witness startling events before a week is over. Medlicott will be

more astounded than any of us by some of them."

"You hear," said Hyacinth to Reuben. "Depend upon it you will commit a monstrous imprudence if you persevere.'

"Lay it hard on the bishops," said De Tabley, "as hard as you please; but take my advice, and don't meddle with the deans!"

Primrose and Winning now made another effort. They went together to his aunt, and after explaining to her the views they entertained of the step which her nephew was about to take, they strongly advised her to exert her influence with him, and dissuade him from doing what might possibly end in blasting his prospects for life. Poor Mrs. Mountjoy was greatly distressed and excited; she felt very little disposed to credit any of the reports that were going about her father's promotion, but she had already some vague notion that Reuben was about to do an unwise thing, in attending a political meeting of any kind, and she promised to do all in her power to bring him to reason.

Reuben was seated in one of his luxurious chairs, arrayed in his velvet robe-de-chambre and slippers, with his speech before him, to which he proposed to put some new touches before dinner (he was engaged that day to dine with Master Turner), when he heard a little timid tap at the door of his chamber.

It was his aunt's maid, to say that her mistress wished par

ticularly to see him, if a visit from her would not be very inconvenient. The girl gazed almost idolatrously on Reuben; and no wonder, for, in his gorgeous gown, there was scarcely any dignity so high, that he might not well be supposed invested with it.

"Shall I go to her?" he inquired.

"She will come to you, sir," said Agatha, with profound deference and presently in came the portly, beautiful, and amiable widow.

Reuben would have been very hard-hearted not to have been moved by the sweetness and earnestness with which his aunt repeated and reinforced the advice and remonstrances which his friends had in vain urged. But Reuben Medlicott was so far from having a hard heart, that, on the contrary, the softness and warmth of his nature made him, all through life, only too susceptible of the sort of influence which was now brought to bear upon him. The end of the interview was, that though he continued to treat the apprehensions of his aunt as utterly groundless, and little less than a libel on her own father, and though his frankness kept him from concealing the extent of the sacrifice he was called on to make, he nevertheless assured his fair relative that he was prepared to make it, if it was necessary to set her mind at ease.

Mrs. Mountjoy was now as overflowing with thanks, as if she had been petitioning for some mighty favour for herself, instead of merely deprecating an act of excessive imprudence on his part. Gazing admiringly on the manuscript which she recognized on the table, then tenderly taking it up, and turning over the pages with a mingled expression of curiosity and regret, she hoped he would permit her to read it. He could not deny the request, but assented with a sigh, which did not escape her ear, touchingly intimating, at the same time, that the speech was made to be spoken, not to be read.

The sigh of the young orator explained this distinction infinitely better to the fair widow's apprehension, than a long lecture on eloquence could have done. It made her more thoroughly sensible of the extent to which Reuben was sacrificing his own glory to her gratification, than if she had studied the treatise "De Claris Oratoribus." Such, indeed, was the effect of that sigh upon her, that it is possible the interview might have ended in Mrs. Mountjoy changing her mind altogether, and even imploring her nephew to do what she had just so earnestly dissuad

ed him from doing, håd not her maid opportunely tapped at the door, to remind her that it was time to dress for dinner, and also to hand Mr. Medlicott a letter which had just been delivered by the postman.

away.

I'll leave you to read it, my dear," said his aunt, as she ran

That letter could not possibly have come at a more unlucky moment. It was from his mother, to acquaint him with the arrangements that had been made for the meeting at Chichester, and the intense excitement that prevailed in the neighbourhood about it, of which no small part, according to Mrs. Medlicott, was owing to Reuben's expected participation in its proceedings. Several bishops, whom she mentioned, had expressed their anxiety that the day should go off well. Flocks of clergymen were to attend it. Everybody deplored his dear grandfather's absence; but perhaps it was reserved for somebody, who was still dearer to her, to supply, and more than supply, the place which the Dean had been wont to fill so ably upon occasions of this nature. Such an opportunity for a young man to cover himself with glory might not occur again for a ages. The maternal solicitude about his preparations and his success, were visible even in the tremulousness of the handwriting. The letter was crossed and recrossed, yet, after all, the most urgent part of it was contained in the last of three postscripts, where his mother informed him that the committee to conduct the meeting was to dine at the Vicarage on the day preceding it, and his father was anxious to have his son's assistance to entertain them. The Earl of Stromness, she added, had sent a haunch of venison for the occasion, an earnest of the interest taken by him in the approaching demonstration.

Reuben had not been so agitated by a letter since the painful communications he had once received, when a schoolboy, from Mrs. Barsac and her daughter. He paced his chamber in a superb state of excitement, rendered still more tragic by his pompous dishabille, which swept the ground behind him like the robe of a heroine on the stage, or a lady's train at a drawing-room. He now felt that he had entered into an inconsiderate, and even improper engagement with his aunt; he had made a vow as rash as Jephtha's, not sufficiently weighing either the bitter disappointment his absence would occasion to his mother, or the mischiefs which might possibly result from deranging, at the eleventh hour, the arrangements for a great county meeting. In all probability it also crossed his mind, as he traversed his room, that the

Protestant interest itself might suffer some slight injury; for as the meeting was considered absolutely necessary for its support, even the least significant personage attending it must needs contribute something to its success and efficiency. What was the public voice, when it roared loudest, but the aggregate of the voices of individuals? Even those who only cheered and shouted were not altogether useless.

Then as to his grandfather's imputed change of views-the only argument his friends in London had to stand on—was not the letter in his hand a triumphant answer to it? All Sussex was deploring the Dean's absence from a demonstration so congenial to his principles. "Offended at my speaking on such an occasion!" cried Reuben, at the end of the soliloquy; "he is a thousand times more likely to bellow like a bull, if I desert my post, especially were he to suspect the reason."

He dressed with feverish precipitation, and, with his mother's letter in his hand, went in search of Mrs. Mountjoy.

CHAPTER IL

THOUGHTS THAT BREATHE AND WORDS THAT BURN.

Ir was no very difficult achievement. Mrs. Mountjoy released her nephew from his promise much more readily than she had prevailed on herself to extort it from him. She was a woman who had the humblest opinion of her own judgment, especially in comparison with her sister, whom she habitually regarded as a very superior person to herself; and, moreover, being of that more amiable than numerous order of beings to whom it is always extremely painful to allow their own gratification, or their own opinions and wishes, to interfere with the gratification of others for one moment, she felt it utterly impossible to oppose her nephew any longer, when she found herself so decidedly in opposition to his mother also.

The fact that the meeting was under the patronage of so many of the clergy, and even of several bishops, was not without its effect likewise. All Mrs. Mountjoy begged now was, that Reuben would in his speech avoid everything calculated to give offence to individuals, and make enemies for himself. Subject to