What arguments were used to induce this breach of trust in the guardian of the Smatterton post-bag, is not stated, nor known, but conjectured. Muggins, when he had given the letter to his lordship, looked rather hesitatingly, and as if he wished to speak; his lordship interpreted his looks, and said, “Well, what are you waiting for?” To this interrogation Muggins replied with a cunning simper, “Why, please, sir, my lord, on case of any questions being axed, perhaps your lordship, sir, will just-like get a poor boy off, you know, my lord.” “Bah!” replied his lordship, “leave that to me.” And thereupon those arguments were used which had been of such great and decided efficacy in previous cases of the same nature. The undescribable rider of the undescribable beast then turned about and went homewards, and the heir of Smatterton soon rejoined his sporting companions. Lord Spoonbill was now in possession of two letters more than did of right belong to him; and though he had taken great pains to become possessed of at least one of them, and though he was glad that he could prevent the information which they contained from reaching the destined point, still he was not altogether comfortable. Once or twice he determined that the letter designed for the parsonage of Smatterton should reach its destination, and then he as often changed his mind again. It may seem strange, and perhaps be thought not true, that an hereditary legislator should descend to such meanness as to intercept a letter. It is indeed strange, and but for its strangeness it would not be here recorded. But Lord Spoonbill was one of those decided characters that do not let trifles deter them from pursuing their schemes. He was rather proud of the dexterity and address with which he pursued any object on which he had fixed his mind, and he mistook, as many other prigs do, obstinacy for firmness. He had fully made up his mind to a certain end, and he was not choice as to the means. Yet he was a man of honor, a man of the nicest honor, a man of the most sensitive and susceptible honor. If any one had been capable of calling him mean, if any one so bold as to have expressed the slightest idea that his lordship was a contemptible fellow, with what indignation would he have heard and repelled the suspicion. His notions of honor must have been very curious and quite unique. We wish it were in our power to present to our readers an analysis of those views which Lord Spoonbill took of the principles of honor. We are not equal to a task so truly philosophical: we can only say that his lordship did descend to the meanness of intercepting a letter, and did call and think himself a man of honor. If any of our readers think that this is very paradoxical and altogether improbable, we congratulate them on their ignorance.