e of the hospital, excepting that which
the founder set apart for him; and it is equally clear that
the founder did not intend that three-fifths of his charity
should be so consumed.

The case is certainly a paltry one after the tens of
thousands with which we have been dealing, for the warden's
income is after all but a poor eight hundred a year: eight
hundred a year is not magnificent preferment of itself, and
the warden may, for anything we know, be worth much more to
the church; but if so, let the church pay him out of funds
justly at its own disposal.

We allude to the question of the Barchester almshouse at the
present moment, because we understand that a plea has been
set up which will be peculiarly revolting to the minds of
English churchmen. An action has been taken against Mr
Warden Harding, on behalf of the almsmen, by a gentleman
acting solely on public grounds, and it is to be argued that
Mr Harding takes nothing but what he received as a servant of
the hospital, and that he is not himself responsible for the
amount of stipend given to him for his work. Such a plea
would doubtless be fair, if anyone questioned the daily wages
of a bricklayer employed on the building, or the fee of the
charwoman who cleans it; but we cannot envy the feeling of a
clergyman of the Church of England who could allow such an
argument to be put in his mouth.

If this plea be put forward we trust Mr Harding will be
forced as a witness to state the nature of his employment;
the amount of work that he does; the income which he
receives; and the source from whence he obtained his
appointment. We do not think he will receive much public
sympathy to atone for the annoyance of such an examination.

As Eleanor read the article her face flushed with indignation, and
when she had finished it, she almost feared to look up at her father.

"Well, my dear," said he, "what do you think of that;--is it worth
while to be a warden at that price?"

"Oh, papa;--dear papa!"

"Mr Bold can't un-write that, my dear;--Mr Bold can't say that that
sha'n't be read by every clergyman at Oxford; nay, by every gentleman
in the land;" and then he walked up and down the room, while Eleanor
in mute despair followed him with her eyes. "And I'll tell you what,
my dear," he continued, speaking now very calmly, and in a forced
manner very unlike himself; "Mr Bold