mitation, and is an inborn sentiment,
rather than an assumed costume. The most powerful peer in England had
not a more independent mind than Dr. Beaumont. His fortune was
sufficiently ample to supply his modest wants and large benevolence;
they who envied his popularity knew not how to weaken it except by
imitating the virtues in which it originated. Placed in that respectable
mediocrity which was the wish of Agar--too exalted to fear an oppressor
or to invite insult; too humble to make ambition look like virtue, or to
fall into that forgetfulness of his Maker, which is often the damning
sin of prosperity; accustomed to those habits of wise self-control that
fit the mind and body for their respective functions; and perfectly
possessed with a most conscientious resignation and confidence
respecting future events--he was free from those cares which corrode the
temper and contract the understanding. Next to his church, his study was
his earthly paradise; but the same calm principle of self-discipline
attended him there, and regulated his enjoyment of lettered ease. He
left his beloved authors without a sigh, as often as active duty called
him to attend the sick cottager, to heal contention between his
parishioners, to admonish the backsliding, or to defend the cause of the
oppressed.

Such was the man who presented himself to the agonized Evellin; nor was
the latter surprized at the visit, or at the serious admonition which he
received. Parochial care was not then regarded as a novelty, when it
extended beyond the altar or the pulpit; and the graceful stranger felt
himself reproved by one who had a right to exercise the functions of
spiritual authority. He bowed to the pastor's instructions, with a
respect which characterized those times, when the power of the church
was supported by superior holiness, and acknowledged even by those who
in their lives disobeyed her precepts. His subsequent behaviour made Dr.
Beaumont not only pardon the infirmities of a wounded spirit, but also
apply the balm of friendship to them, by giving the stranger a most
cordial invitation to the glebe-house, where he promised him a friendly
welcome as often as he was disposed to relish the quiet habits of his
family.

It so happened, that after Evellin had twice or thrice passed the little
wicket that separated the parson's garden from the village green, he
disliked taking any other road. Yet though Mrs. Beaumont's person was of
that description