retire without ruining all their friends, or enriching themselves. I daresay he has realised a good sum."

"I wonder," said the Dean, "that you do not get introduced to her, Whipem; you might sell yourself to advantage there."

"I have been rather too long at Seafowl, to do anything rashly," said Whipem. "I must first look after the papa; he might play me a trick by marrying again—he is rather a smart-looking man."

"Her lovers will require to be quick, or death will get the start of them," said Lady Racket; "I see Zealwell's carriage almost every day at Pinė Cottage."

"We shall hope it is the gout in the old gentleman's stomach," said Captain Radish, "for I mean to become a candidate for the young lady myself— Stuffwell would have been employed had it been the daughter; he is the man for consumption, you know; beef-steaks and port wine, instead of turnips and milk, are the thing now."

"Well, but I fear," said the Dean, "that there will be still more formidable objections than even death itself, to her accepting of either of you, gentlemen. They never go to the Cathedral, and I suspect much that she belongs to the sect of the Presbyterians, or Methodists; and that, on the most sober of all subjects, religion, she is perfectly insane."

But Tom Whipem and Captain Radish declared themselves much too liberal, to be appalled or deterred by mere whim.

"Give us but security," said they with one breath," that her reported Seafowl fortune of £100,000 is tangible £20,000, and we'll marry her to-morrow, if she were a Mahometan."

Such were the speculations of these worthies upon the sick Constantia, the unconscious object of their designs. Constantia had had her sorrows, and had still her affections; she feared that all within her was not yet subdued to the will of God. "Peace, be still, and wait upon thy God!" said she to herself,—" Oh, foolish heart, cease to desire, cease to wish for aught beneath the skies; alas! why am I not entirely weaned from the world -worldly amusements, worldly pleasures have long ceased to interest me. Deceitful heart, is it the love of Heaven which has robbed the world of its charms in thy imagination ?" And a slight blush suffused her pallid cheek, as she put this question to herself.

CHAPTER XXIV.

"See, great commanders making war a trade,
Great lawyers, lawyers without study made,
Churchmen, in whose esteem their blest employ
Is odious, and their wages all their joy."

DEAN MUDDY, of the Cathedral, was not what would be termed a wicked man, by the unbelieving world. He was merely a careless pastor, and felt and expressed no enmity to his brother in the church, Mr Soulflow. Indeed, the latter gentleman possessed so much of the milk of human kindness, that wherever the enemies of his doctrine came in contact with him, they were disarmed, at least of enmity to his person. For who (when it comes under their observation) can help loving the charity which thinketh no evil, which vaunteth not itself, which beareth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things? Corrupt as human nature is, it finds a repose from its own evil passions, in the manners of those whose bland and peaceful demeanour springs from the charity which

reigns in their hearts. To his practice none could object, but as it reproved their own lukewarm indolence; for he was prompted by benevolence, and a manifest desire to promote the well-being of the whole human race.

The Dean had been born and educated for the living which he now held-he was a man of honour, and had he believed sufficiently in the doctrines of Christianity, he would have been capable of giving up his living, as feeling himself unqualified for its active duties. But as things were, he felt that he had as good a right to it, as his brother had to the family estate of Easegrove; and he meant to give his own son a collegiate education, to qualify him for his lineal successor. "By their fruits ye shall know them," will always be found a sufficient test to discriminate the unbeliever, or false professor, from the sincere Christian, Dean Muddy was a good-humoured, contented, useless man. Mr Soulflow was equally good-humoured, and contented, and placid; but, in addition, he was an active, diligent, laborious servant of the Lord. Of him it might be said, "When the ear heard him then it blessed him, and when the eye saw him it gave witness to him." All Seafowl united in awarding him the praise due to a useful man.

But his cross, his trial, Mrs Soulflow, drew upon

herself the spleen and animadversions of the whole irreligious world, and the grief of the religious society which frequented her husband's house. For her part, she was heartily wearied of them all; for she was not a Christian at heart, though in her natural blindness she thought herself as decidedly one as her husband. She was a religious gossip, and, being much in religious society, had acquired many of its technical terms; and not a few who saw her amongst the flock were offended (being destitute of the gift of discerning the spirits) to see that she was a wolf in sheep's clothing. But the great Shepherd, who careth for the sheep, permits all things for good; and her satirical temper, though not prompted by love to the sheep, had sometimes the effect of calling the attention of the sincere believer to little flaws, which otherwise might have been overlooked. On her part, she furnished ample food for the ebullitions of the spleen and bile of that class to which she in reality belonged; and she sometimes even contrived to awaken the dormant wrath of Dean Muddy and his lady, notwithstanding their naturally easy tempers. But the mild consistent demeanour of Mr Soulflow disarmed even the most malignant. There is something, notwithstanding the wickedness of human nature, which makes mankind prone to support and pa