and had endeavoured, according to the best of his ability, to impress upon the mind of the young lord those principles which, in after-life, might become a blessing to him; and when he could not but observe with all his natural disposition to candor and charity, that there were bad principles at work within, he endeavoured to hope for the best, and in his pastoral admonitions to the youth he did not assume the sternness of the censor, but adopted the gentle insinuating language of a friend to a friend. He was grieved, indeed, when he saw that Lord Spoonbill was likely to become a frivolous character, but he was spared the bitter mortification of knowing that he was decidedly profligate. Miserably degraded must have been the mind of Lord Spoonbill when intelligence of the good man’s illness reached him, that he could think only, or chiefly, of the vicious benefit likely to accrue from the fatal termination of that illness. There was indeed another thought in his lordship’s mind. He could not but notice the hurry in which the messenger seemed to be, and he was also struck with the obvious sensation which the illness of the rector had created in the village. And this thought was more powerfully impressed as he rode past a few cottages near the park-gate. He there heard the comments and commendations of the humblest of the humble, and the poorest of the poor. He heard the aged tremulously uttering their lamentations; these lamentations were perhaps rather selfish, but still they were such as did honour to him for whom they were expressed, if not to those by whom they were used. Then his lordship thought within himself of the power and efficacy of moral worth; and he himself began to be almost sorry; but his more degrading and vicious thoughts had the ascendancy; and he was fully resolved not to be moved or melted by the sorrows of ignorant rustics. He rode up to the castle, and having dismounted he proceeded immediately to the magnificent saloon, in which the Earl was so fond of sitting even when alone. As Lord Spoonbill entered the apartment, the Earl raised his eyes from a book which he was reading, and said, “You are soon returned, Spoonbill; did you find Sir George’s company not very inviting? Or, have you left Crop to enjoy the sole benefit of the worthy baronet’s wit and humour?” “I left the baronet taking his nap after dinner, and desired Crop to stay and amuse him with his backgammon when he should wake. My visits at Neverden, you know, are never long.” The Earl was about to resume his book, when Lord Spoonbill added, “But pray, sir, what is this account I hear from one of your people about Dr Greendale? I hope the old gentleman is not seriously ill.” By this interrogation the Earl seemed to be roused to a recollection of what might otherwise have passed away from his mind. Laying down his book, he said: