were so awful that they used to frighten the timid old gentleman her father, and the physicians declared his fits always occurred after one of her Ladyship’s sermons.

“I will certainly call,” said Lady Southdown then, in reply to the exhortation of her daughter’s prétendu, Mr. Pitt Crawley—“Who is Miss Crawley’s medical man?”

Mr. Crawley mentioned the name of Mr. Creamer.

“A most dangerous and ignorant practitioner, my dear Pitt. I have providentially been the means of removing him from several houses: though in one or two instances I did not arrive in time. I could not save poor dear General Glanders, who was dying under the hands of that ignorant man—dying. He rallied a little under the Podgers’ pills which I administered to him; but alas! it was too late. His death was delightful, however; and his change was only for the better; Creamer, my dear Pitt, must leave your aunt.”

Pitt expressed his perfect acquiescence. He, too, had been carried along by the energy of his noble kinswoman, and future mother-in-law. He had been made to accept Saunders McNitre, Luke Waters, Giles Jowls, Podgers’ Pills, Rodgers’ Pills, Pokey’s Elixir, every one of her Ladyship’s remedies spiritual or temporal. He never left her house without carrying respectfully away with him piles of her quack theology and medicine. O, my dear brethren and fellow-sojourners in Vanity Fair, which among you does not know and suffer under such benevolent despots? It is in vain you say to them, “Dear Madam, I took Podgers’ specific at your orders last year, and believe in it. Why, why am I to recant and accept the Rodgers’ articles now?” There is no help for it; the faithful proselytizer, if she cannot convince by argument, bursts into tears, and the refusant finds himself, at the end of the contest, taking down the bolus, and saying, “Well, well, Rodgers’ be it.”

“And as for her spiritual state,” continued the Lady, “that of course must be looked to immediately: with Creamer about her, she may go off any day: and in what a condition, my dear Pitt, in what a dreadful condition! I will send the Reverend Mr. Irons to her instantly. Jane, write a line to the Reverend Bartholomew Irons, in the third person, and say that I desire the pleasure of his company this evening at tea at half- past six. He is an awakening man; he ought to see Miss Crawley before she rests this night. And Emily, my love, get ready a packet of books for Miss Crawley. Put up ‘A Voice from the Flames,’ ‘A Trumpet- warning to Jericho,’ and the ’Fleshpots Broken; or, the Converted Cannibal.’ “

“And the ‘Washerwoman of Finchley Common,’ Mamma,” said Lady Emily. “It is as well to begin soothingly at first.”

“Stop, my dear ladies,” said Pitt, the diplomatist. “With every deference to the opinion of my beloved and respected Lady Southdown, I think it would be quite unadvisable to commence so early upon serious topics with Miss Crawley. Remember her delicate condition, and how little, how very little accustomed she has hitherto been to considerations connected with her immortal welfare.”

“Can we then begin too early, Pitt?” said Lady Emily, rising with six little books already in her hand.

“If you begin abruptly, you will frighten her altogether. I know my aunt’s worldly nature so well as to be sure that any abrupt attempt at conversion will be the very worst means that can be employed for the welfare of that unfortunate lady. You will only frighten and annoy her. She will very likely fling the books away, and refuse all acquaintance with the givers.”

“You are as worldly as Miss Crawley, Pitt,” said Lady Emily, tossing out of the room, her books in her hand.

“And I need not tell you, my dear Lady Southdown,” Pitt continued, in a low voice, and without heeding the interruption, “how fatal a little want of gentleness and caution may be to any hopes which we may entertain with regard to the worldly possessions of my aunt. Remember she has seventy thousand pounds; think of her age, and her highly nervous and delicate condition; I know that she has destroyed the will which