things worse for themselves. The cattle may have a heavy load; but it won't help 'em to throw it over into the roadside pit, when it's partly their own fodder.

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I hold it a crime to expose a man's sin unless I'm clear it must be done to save the innocent.

The young ones have always a claim on the old to help them forward. I was young myself once, and had to do without much help; but help would have been welcome to me, if it had been only for the fellowfeeling's sake.

The soul of man, when it gets fairly rotten, will bear you all sorts of poisonous toad-stools, and no eye can see whence came the seed thereof.

(To his wife.)—A true love for a good woman is a great thing, Susan. It shapes many a rough fellow.

Mrs Garth.-It seems to me, a loss which falls on another because we have done right is not to lie upon our conscience.

Caleb.-It's the feeling. You don't mean your horse to tread on a dog when you're backing out of the way; but it goes through you when it's done.

There's no sort of work that could ever be done well if you minded what fools say. You must have it inside you that your plan is right, and that plan you must follow.

Caleb.—It's a thousand pities Christy didn't take to business, Susan. I shall want help by-and-by. And Alfred must go off to the engineering-I've made up my mind to that. I shall make Brooke have new agreements with the tenants, and I shall draw up a rotation of crops. And I'll lay a wager we can get fine bricks out of the clay at Bott's corner. I must look into that it would cheapen the repairs. It's a fine bit of work, Susan! A man without a family

would be glad to do it for nothing.

Mrs Garth.-Mind you don't, though.

Caleb.-No, no; but it's a fine thing to come to a man when he's seen into the nature of business: to have the chance of getting a bit of the country into good fettle, as they say, and putting men into the right way with their farming, and getting a bit of good contriving and solid building done-that those who are living and those who come after will be the better for. I'd sooner have it than a fortune. I hold it the most honourable work that is. It's a great gift of God, Susan.

Mrs Garth. That it is, Caleb. And it will be a blessing to your children to have had a father who did such work: a father whose good work remains though his name may be forgotten.

Celia Brooke. I will go anywhere with you, Mrs Cadwallader; but I don't like funerals.

Mrs Cadwallader.-Oh, my dear, when you have a clergyman in your family you must accommodate your tastes: I did that very early. When I married Humphrey I made up my mind to like sermons, and I set out by liking the end very much. That soon spread to the middle and the beginning, because I couldn't have the end without them.

A woman's choice usually means taking the only man she can get.

These charitable people never know vinegar from wine till they have swallowed it and got the colic.

It is not martyrdom to pay bills that one has run into one's self.

I can't wear my solemnity too often, else it will go to rags.

Miserliness is a capital quality to run in families; it's the safe side for madness to dip on.

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Sir James Chettam.-I don't believe a man is in pocket by stinginess on his land.

Mrs Cadwallader.-Oh, stinginess may be abused like other virtues: it will not do to keep one's own pigs lean.

Mrs Cadwallader.-Dorothea is engaged to be married. Engaged to Casaubon.

2

Sir James Chettam.-Casaubon?

Mrs Cadwallader.—Even so.

Sir James.-Good God! It is horrible! He is no better than a mummy!

Mrs Cadwallader.-She says he is a great soul.-A great bladder for dried peas to rattle in!

Lady Chettam.—Where can all the strength of those medicines go, my dear?

Mrs Cadwallader. It strengthens the disease. Everything depends on the constitution: some people make fat, some blood, and some bile-that's my view of the matter: and whatever they take is a sort of grist to the mill.

Mrs Cadwallader.-Now, do not let them lure you to the hustings, my dear Mr Brooke. A man always makes a fool of himself, speechifying: there's no excuse but being on the right side, so that you can ask a blessing on your humming and hawing. You will lose yourself, I forewarn you. You will make a Saturday pie of all parties' opinions, and be pelted by everybody.

Mr Brooke.-That is what I expect, you knowwhat I expect as an independent man. As to the Whigs, a man who goes with the thinkers is not likely to be hooked on by any party. He may go with them up to a certain point-up to a certain point, you know. But that is what you ladies never understand.

Mrs Cadwallader.—Where your certain point is? No. I should like to be told how a man can have any certain point when he belongs to no party-leading a

roving life, and never letting his friends know his address. 'Nobody knows where Brooke will bethere's no counting on Brooke'-that is what people say of you, to be quite frank. Now, do turn respectable. How will you like going to Sessions with everybody looking shy on you, and you with a bad conscience and an empty pocket?

Mr Brooke. I don't pretend to argue with a lady on politics. Your sex are not thinkers, you know— varium et mutabile semper--that kind of thing. You don't know Virgil. I knew—I was going to say, poor Stoddart, you know. That was what he said. You ladies are always against an independent attitude—a man's caring for nothing but truth, and that sort of thing. And there is no part of the country where opinion is narrower than it is here—I don't mean to throw stones, you know, but somebody is wanted to take the independent line; and if I don't take it, who will?

Mrs Cadwallader.-Who? Why, any upstart who has got neither blood nor position. People of standing should consume their independent nonsense at home, not hawk it about.

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Mrs Cadwallader.-I warned you all of it. I said to Humphrey long ago, Mr Brooke is going to make a splash in the mud. And now he has done it.

Mr Cadwallader.-Well, he might have taken it into his head to marry. That would have been a graver mess than a little flirtation with politics.

Mrs Cadwallader.-He may do that afterwards, when he has come out on the other side of the mud with an ague.