ellect,--namely, the walking backwards, in order to gratify a
vindictive view of one's neighbour's property! I suspect that, before
this century is out, many a fine fellow will thus have found his ha-ha,
and scrambled out of the ditch with a much shabbier coat than he had
on when he fell into it. But Randal did not thank his good genius for
giving him a premonitory tumble,--and I never yet knew a man who did!

CHAPTER, XI.

The squire was greatly ruffled at breakfast that morning. He was too
much of an Englishman to bear insult patiently, and he considered that
he had been personally insulted in the outrage offered to his recent
donation to the parish. His feelings, too, were hurt as well as his
pride. There was something so ungrateful in the whole thing, just
after he had taken so much pains, not only in the resuscitation but the
embellishment of the stocks. It was not, however, so rare an occurrence
for the squire to be ruffled as to create any remark. Riccabocca,
indeed, as a stranger, and Mrs. Hazeldean, as a wife, had the quick tact
to perceive that the host was glum and the husband snappish; but the
one was too discreet, and the other too sensible, to chafe the new sore,
whatever it might be, and shortly after breakfast the squire retired
into his study, and absented himself from morning service. In his
delightful "Life of Oliver Goldsmith," Mr. Forster takes care to
touch our hearts by introducing his hero's excuse for not entering
the priesthood. "He did not feel himself good enough." Thy Vicar of
Wakefield, poor Goldsmith, was an excellent substitute for thee; and
Dr. Primrose, at least, will be good enough for the world until Miss
Jemima's fears are realized. Now, Squire Hazeldean had a tenderness
of conscience much less reasonable than Goldsmith's. There were
occasionally days in which he did not feel good enough--I don't say for
a priest, but even for one of the congregation,--"days in which," said
the squire in his own blunt way, "as I have never in my life met a worse
devil than a devil of a temper, I'll not carry mine into the family
pew. He sha'n't be growling out hypocritical responses from my poor
grandmother's prayer-book." So the squire and his demon stayed at home.
But the demon was generally cast out before the day was over: and on
this occasion, when the bell rang for afternoon service, it may be
presumed that the squire had reasoned or fretted himself into a proper
state of mind; for he wa