Upon the death of this infatuated young man, another Curate was sent down by the Vicar, who was the Rev. John Prince, the Chaplain to the Magdalen, and who it was thought would be more particular in the choice of those with whom he trusted the care of the souls of his parishioners. Our new Curate arrived fresh from Oxford, and as he brought letters of recommendation to my father, from the Vicar, who was a very worthy and a most circumspect man, he invited him to his house, and he proved to be a much more rational young man than his predecessor. Though he did not evince any great knowledge of the world, yet he had mixed in good society, and I promised myself a great acquisition in his acquaintance. We soon, however, found that he had not been educated at Oxford for nothing; he had acquired a habit of taking his bottle freely, and, as he had not a very hard head, he was frequently very much intoxicated before his more robust neighbours were scarcely yet warmed with their glasses. This was a dreadful misfortune for my young friend, as well as for myself, for he was an intelligent young man when he was sober; but, the moment the wine began to operate, he was one of the completest fools in christendom; he was then as great as a king, and always when he was the most contemptible, he fancied himself a very great man, and never failed to boast of his superiority of education, and his having taken his degree at Christ Church. This he was always sure to do when he had lost the little talent and intellect that he possessed when he was sober. At the very moment that he was looked upon with a degree of mingled _pity_ and _contempt_ by those around him, he was sure to assume a ridiculous superiority over his more rational companions; merely, as he professed, because he was brought up at college.