themselves, study their language of self-
depreciation. If, even when they undertake to lower
themselves, they cannot help insinuating self-praise,
be sure their humility is a puddle, their vanity is a
well. This sentence is typical of the whole Diary,
or rather Iary; it sounds Publican, smells
Pharisee.

X. How potent a thing is language in the hand
of a master! Here is sudden death made
humorous by a few incongruous phrases neatly
disposed.

F. Excuse me; there is still a little market
for the Liquefaction of Holy Writ, and the
Perversion of Holy Writ; two deathless arts, which
meet in your comment on the song you ascribe
to Solomon.

Z. More than Mrs. Plummer does, apparently.

G. Apotheosis of the British public. How very
like profaneness some people's Piety is!

C. H. Faith, with this school, means anything
the opposite of Charity.

I. You are morally truthful: but intellectually
mendacious. The texts on Solomon's Song! You
know very well there is not one. No grave writer
in all Scripture has ever deigned to cite, or notice,
that coarse composition; puellarum deliciæ.

J. Modest periphrasis for "I like it." Motto
for this Diary; "Ego, et Deus meus."

K. In other words a good, old fashioned, sober,
humble Christian, to whom the daring familiarities
of your school seem blasphemies.

M. Here I recognise my sister; somewhat
spoiled by a detestable sect; but lovable by
nature (which she is for ever abusing); and
therefore always amiable, when off her guard.]

"March 28th. Mr. Crawford the attorney
called and told papa his son had instructed him
to examine the trust-deed, and to draw his
marriage settlement. Papa treated him with the
greatest civility, and brought him the deed. He
wanted to take it away to copy; but papa said
he had better send a clerk here. Poor papa hid
his distress from this gentleman, though not from
me; and gave him a glass of wine.

Then Mr. Crawford chatted, and let out Alfred
had asked him to advance a hundred pounds for
the wedding presents, &c. Papa said he might
do so with perfect safety.

But the moment he was gone, his whole
manner changed. He walked about in terrible
anger and agitation: and then sat down and
wrote letters; one was to uncle Thomas; and
one to a Mr. Wycherley; I believe a brother of
the doctor's. I never knew him so long writing
two letters before.

Heard a noise in the road, and it was Mr.
Maxley, and the boys after him hooting; they
have found out his infirmity: what a savage
animal is man, till grace changes him! The poor
soul had a stick, and now and then turned and
struck at them; but his tormentors were too
nimble. I drew papa to the window, and showed
him, and reminded him of the poor man's request.
He answered impatiently what was that to him?
'we have a worse case nearer hand. Charity
begins at home.' I ventured to say yes, but it
did not begin and end at home."

"March 31. Mr. Osmond here to-day; and over
my work I heard papa tell him Alfred is
blackening his character in the town with some
impossible story about fourteen thousand pounds.
Mr. Osmond very kind and sympathising; set it
all down to illusion; assured papa there was
neither malice nor insincerity in it. 'But what
the better am I for that?' said poor papa: ' if I
am slandered, I am slandered.' And they went
out together.

Papa seems to feel this engagement more than
all his troubles, and, knowing by sad experience
it is useless to expostulate with Alfred, I wrote
a long and faithful letter to Julia just before
luncheon, putting it to her as a Christian whether
she could reconcile it to her profession to set a
son against his father, and marry him in open
defiance.

She replied 3 P.M. that her mother approved
the marriage, and she owed no obedience, nor
affection either, to my parent.

3.30 Sent back a line rebuking her for this
quibble.

At 5 received a note from Mrs. Dodd proposing
that the correspondence between myself and her
daughter should cease for the present.

5.30. Retorted with an amendment that it
should cease for ever. No reply. Such are
worldlings! Remonstrance only galls them. And
so in one afternoon's correspondence ends one
more of my Christian friendships with persons of
my own sex. This is the eighth, to which a
carnal attachment has been speedily fatal.

In the evening Alfred came in looking very
red, and asked me whether it was not self-reliant
and uncharitable of me to condemn so many
estimable persons, all better acquainted with the
circumstances than I am. I replied with the
fifth commandment. He bit his lip and said,
'We had better not meet again, until you have
found out which is worthiest of honour, your
father or your brother.' And with this he left
abruptly; and something tells me I shall not see
him again. My faithfulness has wounded him to
the quick. Alas! Prayed for him: and cried
myself to sleep."

"April 4th. Met him disguised as a common
workman, and carrying a sack full of things. I
was so shocked I could not maintain my resolution;
I said, Oh, Mr. Edward, what are you
doing? He blushed a little, but told me he was
going to sell some candlesticks and things of his
making: and he should get a better price in that
dress; all traders looked on a gentleman as a thing
made to be pillaged. Then he told me he was
going to turn them into a bonnet and a wreath;
and his beautiful brown eyes sparkled with affection.
What egotistical creatures they must be!
I was quite overcome, and said oh why did he
refuse our offer? did he hate me so very much
that he would not even take his due from my
hand? No, he said, nobody in our house is so
unjust to you as to hate you; my sister honours