that there is spirit enough in the Prince of Brunswick's description, to shew that he knew his disease well."

"Then why did he not cure himself?" asked Tremaine.

"I suppose because at his years he was too much upon the pursuit of pleasure to think of making business."

"Of making business!"

"Why, yes! for with all our pride, our attainments, and our philosophy, I observe the animal too much preponderates. We kick against duty, and if force is not put upon us by others, it must be by ourselves. We in fact are too prone to be idle; and idleness, as my daughter's morality-master here says, is "the root of all evil. "

"Pray may I ask," said Tremaine, "who is the happy person you speak of as Miss Evelyn's morality-master ?"

"The writing-master of the village," returned

were the persons of whose abilities and virtues as preceptor and subpreceptor, the two eldest of our princes had the advantage: which to their honour they acknowledge with amiable gratitude to this day.

[With the above note of the author, the editor did not dare to meddle; although aware how different it would have been made, had it been written after, instead of before the death of the person to whom it relates.]

Evelyn. Georgina smiled, and her father, with some humour, taking up a set of writing copies. designed for the village school, presented the words to Tremaine in handsome copperplate.

"Is not this rather childish?" said the latter, almost piqued.

"Perhaps so," answered Evelyn, "but are we not all children?"

"Not exactly, I hope."

"Well! I will not be so uncivil as to say so of a grave legislator; but, reverend doctor as I am, I confess myself to be one, in most things but innocence."

"You surely do not hold that any force upon us is necessary to prevent our being idle !"

"I never was more serious in my life," answered the Doctor, "for though growing an old fellow, I remember at school, I never was so tired as on a whole holiday, unless I undertook some long excursion, and that was the same thing as making busi. ness. Left to myself to lie under the trees, and read about it in Virgil and Horace the whole day long, I found what was so charming in description, was in practice the most insupportable thing in the world."

Tremaine here observed, with some peevishness, that it was not merely to read, or even to understand the poets, that would give the delicacy of imagina

tion necessary to feel them; that some men were made for business, others for contemplation, and that every one, of course, understood himself best.

"Not quite of course, I'm afraid,” said Evelyn; "at least I remember making what I hoped were very pretty verses, and which even gained me a prize at Oxford, upon the simplicity of the pastoral life, and the pleasures of viewing the world at a distance which I never should have done had I not been sincere in every feeling I described."

"Your inference," said Tremaine.

"Why, that I thought I understood myself; though I found afterwards I did no such thing." "You have then been unhappy in your retirement?" cried Tremaine, with more placidity. Unhappy!" exclaimed Georgina, looking round

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her.

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Unhappy!" echoed her father, "no, indeed: but perhaps I should have been so, if I had not found employment; in other words, made business for myself."

"May I ask how and what?" said Tremaine, rather impatient of the subject.

"You may, and welcome," answered Evelyn, "though to ask a parson what his business is, is no great compliment to himself or his profession. And were I to name the Bible, I might say every thing. But that would be to elude, rather than

answer my good friend's question. Without, however, affecting too much, I may safely tell you, that that holy book, and its concomitants, do, in fact, form much of the business-part of my life; by which I mean, the hours, more or less, which I pass in my study, and which for the most part are employed in teaching myself what I am appointed to teach to others.'

"By what I learn then," added Tremaine, "you are still studying theology, although long a doctor in the science?"

"And a very good study, too," returned Evelyn; "I wish all doctors would do the same; for it will last the longest life. I affect not, however, to say I am so absorbed in it as to preclude other studies in the way also of business."

"Certainly, though you will blush for me when I tell you they are warrants, and acts of parlia

ment."

"Barbarous !" said Tremaine.

"But very useful," replied Evelyn.

Tremaine now looking about him with seeming impatience, the Doctor changed the conversation.

"It is a little strange, my dear sir," said he, “that, in the first moments of your visit, we should fall into an argument on the duties of life, and that I should neglect one of the first of them-hospitality: will you

not take refreshment? you seem more tired than ought to be."

you

Refreshments were now ordered, and a conversation commenced, in which the charms of music, prompted by the instruments, and the beauties of Guarini, prompted by the book on the table, were discussed.

The volume was open at that passage on the spring, which has been so often admired, and which Tremaine read:

"O! Primavera, gioventu dell'anno,

Bella madre di fiori,

D'erbe novelle, e di novelli amori,

Tu torni ben, ma teco

Non tornano i sereni

E fortunati di delle mie gioje."

"By his reading it with so much feeling," said Evelyn to Georgina, "I hope Mr. Tremaine likes that passage as well as we do."

"It was always a favourite with me," replied he, "nor do I know which to like best, the sentiments, or the delicacy of the diction."

"I love all descriptions of the spring," said Georgina.

"I hope you will long continue to do so," observed her companion; "but your love will certainly wear off."

"I do not think that possible," answered Georgina.