urer, as well as one of the founders, of the society for the relief
of persons imprisoned for small debts. He described his prison
experiences in a series of papers in the _Gentleman's Magazine_, which
were subsequently republished, and highly praised by the _Edinburgh
Review_. Mr. Neild had three children, but only one, John Camden Neild,
survived him. This gentleman succeeded to his father's very large
property in 1814.

Mr. James Neild had acquired considerable landed estate, and was sheriff
of Buckinghamshire in 1804. His son received every advantage in the way
of education, graduated M.A. at Trinity College, Cambridge, and was
subsequently called to the bar. He proved, however, the very reverse of
his benevolent father. He was a miser born, and hid all his talents in a
napkin, making no use of his wealth beyond allowing it to accumulate.
From the date of the death of his father, who left him L250,000, besides
real estate, he had spent but a small portion of his income, and allowed
himself scarcely the necessaries of life. He usually dressed in a blue
coat with metal buttons. This he did not allow to be brushed, inasmuch
as that process would have worn the nap. He was never known to wear an
overcoat. He gladly accepted invitations from his tenantry, and would
remain on long visits, because he thus saved board. There is a story of
how a benevolent gentleman once proffered assistance, through a chemist
in the Strand, in whose shop he saw what he supposed to be a broken-down
old gentleman, and received for reply, "God bless your soul, sir! that's
Mr. Coutts the banker, who could buy up you and me fifty times over." So
with Mr. Neild: his appearance often made him an object of charity and
commiseration, nor would it appear that he was at all averse to being so
regarded. Just before railway traveling began he had been on a visit to
some of his estates, and was returning to London. The coach having
stopped to allow of the passengers getting refreshment, all entered the
hotel except old Neild. Observing the absence of the pinched,
poverty-stricken-looking old gentleman, some good-natured passenger sent
him out a bumper of brandy and water, which the old niggard eagerly
accepted.

A few days before his death he told one of his executors that he had
made a most singular will, but that he had a right to do what he liked
with his own. When the document was opened it was found that, with the
exception of a few small legacies,