ly.

Nor was it only on account of his very natural wish to frustrate the
expectations of this unamiable relation that Sir Peter Chillingly
lamented the absence of the little stranger. Although belonging to that
class of country gentlemen to whom certain political reasoners deny the
intelligence vouchsafed to other members of the community, Sir Peter was
not without a considerable degree of book-learning and a great taste
for speculative philosophy. He sighed for a legitimate inheritor to the
stores of his erudition, and, being a very benevolent man, for a more
active and useful dispenser of those benefits to the human race which
philosophers confer by striking hard against each other; just as, how
full soever of sparks a flint may be, they might lurk concealed in the
flint till doomsday, if the flint were not hit by the steel. Sir Peter,
in short, longed for a son amply endowed with the combative quality, in
which he himself was deficient, but which is the first essential to all
seekers after renown, and especially to benevolent philosophers.

Under these circumstances one may well conceive the joy that filled
the household of Exmundham and extended to all the tenantry on that
venerable estate, by whom the present possessor was much beloved and
the prospect of an heir-at-law with a special eye to the preservation
of rabbits much detested, when the medical attendant of the Chillinglys
declared that 'her ladyship was in an interesting way;' and to what
height that joy culminated when, in due course of time, a male baby was
safely entbroned in his cradle. To that cradle Sir Peter was summoned.
He entered the room with a lively bound and a radiant countenance: he
quitted it with a musing step and an overclouded brow.

Yet the baby was no monster. It did not come into the world with two
heads, as some babies are said to have done; it was formed as babies are
in general; was on the whole a thriving baby, a fine baby. Nevertheless,
its aspect awed the father as already it had awed the nurse. The
creature looked so unutterably solemn. It fixed its eyes upon Sir Peter
with a melancholy reproachful stare; its lips were compressed and drawn
downward as if discontentedly meditating its future destinies. The nurse
declared in a frightened whisper that it had uttered no cry on facing
the light. It had taken possession of its cradle in all the dignity of
silent sorrow. A more saddened and a more thoughtful countenance a human
being