“My father, last year, was extremely angry at an account I gave him of £112 spent at Warrington—the present sum is £179. Bill disclaims all share in the expenses above £60. _I_ then have £119 to answer for; _I_ who promised such a strict amendment, and who had as many excuses last year as at present. I had more journeys, more music, and yet, according to his knowledge, have spent £7 more in my present year of pennance, repentance, etc.!” And yet Mr Benjamin Vaughan became a useful member of society, had a seat in the House of Commons, and had the honour of having dedicated to him the _Lectures on History and General Policy_, to which is prefixed an “Essay on a Course of Liberal Education for Civil and Active Life,” to which he had listened as a pupil and which Priestley published in 1788. Whatever may have been Mr Seddon’s worries he had at least the consolation of a loving wife, although, it is to be feared, she too suffered much at the hands of those terrible Miss Rigbys, and even from Miss Aikin, who was somewhat of a quiz. The daughter of an equerry to Frederick Prince of Wales, she was a very fine lady, and, says Mr Bright, “spelt abominably.” “Among the Seddon papers is a letter which her husband wrote to her during a short absence in 1766. On the back of his letter Mrs Seddon prepares a rough draft of an answer to her truant husband. The word which puzzles her most is ‘adieu,’ and she has to spell it over three times before she can determine whether the ‘e’ comes before the ‘i,’ or the ‘i’ before the ‘e.’ The knotty point is at last settled and the fair copy written out; and this, too, her careful husband put away and preserved among his papers.” I cannot resist quoting the last paragraph of this most charming but laborious letter. “Let me hear of you as often as you can; for it does me more good, and has a much stronger _a_ffect upon my spirits than either e_a_ther or salvolatiley. Adieu, my dear, _e_xcept the sincerest and best wishes for your health and happiness, of one whose greatest pleasure in this world is in subscribing herself your truely affectionate wife.—J. Seddon. “_P.S._—I shall want cash before you return; what must I doe? Pray put me in a way how to replenish. Remember me propperly to everybody.” We cannot, however, concern ourselves at greater length with the life at the Warrington Academy, or dwell much longer on the fortunes of that seat of learning. To do full justice to the theme would need indeed the witty pen which in “Cranford” delineated the social life of a neighbouring town with such inimitable grace and charm.