EXTRACTS FROM THE DIARY OF AN

OXFORD MAN.1

June 28th.-WENT to Mr. Hutchins' to tea. We were rather late, and found the room full. The doctor exclaimed as we entered, "Ah! here you are, Montague. You fashionable people cannot accommodate yourselves to our early hours. I suppose, however, we must make the most of you while we have you. Will you go and sit down by Miss Hawkner there on the sofa? and. Charles" (he invariably used Christian names, did Mr. Hutchins, if he could, and yet more invariably if possible did he leave out in like manner the appendage of Mr., thereby evincing familiarity with everybody, and an easy equality, poor soul!) "you will find a place by Charlotte; she's so fond of you, she is, I am thinking of calling her Charles-lot for the future-ha! ha! ha!"

By which I should be a considerable gainer, if we were to take him at his word-should I not, Mrs. Hutchins?" said Montague.

Mrs. Hutchins looked very good-natured and stupid, and rang the bell, directing the servant to bring in Master Georgie.

think that you are so good all in white, when you talk in the church."

"Don't be foolish, sir, you are talking nonsense!" cried out his father, in a peculiarly harsh tone of voice, which made Colonel Hawkner look first at him, then at the child; "and get off directly from Mr. Montague's lap-you are troublesome."

He little knew the sacred principle which was at work in his boy's mind, and which half peeped out in those unconnected words of his. It would have been well for Mr. Hutchins if he had.

The poor little boy went back, abashed and bewildered, to his mother, and sat by her side on the little stool as before.

This enabled me to listen to a conversation which had been going on for some time at intervals between the rector, Mr. Hutchins, and Colonel Hawkner. The latter gentleman was in appearance an elderly man, of military bearing, a red face, and robust figure.

"Let them go to the workhouse, or starve!" said the Colonel; "a lazy, good-for-nothing set of vagrants, that won't work, and are so wondrously particular about their diet. I should like to give them a little notion of martial law myself. What say you, Mr. Linsey, eh?"

"I am afraid I did not do what I ought in the matter," said Mr. Hutchins. "You see it was a regular parish case. The man had been a lazy sort of man, and his family were in dreadful poverty; What a bore these family exhibitions often are! the Union would have been much better for them. It is difficult to know to whom they are more dis- But then, you know, the poor wife did beseech me agreeable, to the poor children or to the visitors; for so, and said it would be death to them to go to the the former are expected to be so very well behaved, workhouse, they would rather starve. So I attended (having generally been choked up with instructions the man, and gave them money to buy them food to that effect from the nursery,) and are so invariably and keep them going. Yet I do not think one is all the more shy, and un-get-over-able, and the visi-justified in doing so-especially if one has a family, tors are likewise so thoroughly expected to be parti- when there is a union for them to go to." cular in their notice, and warm in their expression of sympathy, that it is generally a very painful pantomime. How little do people understand the hearts of children! If instead of hurting their delicate timidity by calling them into notice, they were to leave them to themselves, they would be much more really considerate to them, and would not be annoyed The individual addressed was a vicar of a neighby the trouble of amusing them, of which they are bouring parish, as I understood afterwards. He was often the first to complain. The heart of a child is a elderly, fat, well-favoured, and stolid. There was a somewhat delicate instrument. It requires a very beam of good-humoured self-satisfaction in his face, skilful and tender touch to waken up the latent mixed with a certain assumed magisterial decision: harmony. he was a county magistrate. From his rather obese However, in this case I was agreeably disap-neck depended by a black riband a double eyeglass pointed. Nature has made up for the deficiencies of with a tortoiseshell handle; this was his never-endthe parents in the young child. Delicate, with lighting plaything. blue eyes and golden hair, little Georgie came quietly into the room; and, as he shook hands all round, according to previous command, his pensive eye rested guilelessly on the face of each; he then gently sat himself down on a stool beside his mother. I watched him waiting to catch her attention; and the Colonel was watching him too for the moment very wistfully. When he had succeeded, the little fellow said, in a low whisper," Mamma, may I go to him?" and he pointed to old Mr. Montague.

His mother gave him leave, and he went and nestled up near the old gentleman, and took his hands between his own, and gently pulled him to get his notice. When he had succeeded, he looked quaintly up to him, and said, "I love you very much-don't I, mamma?" and he tried to kiss him. The rector raised him into his lap; and he put his little arms round his neck, and kissed him again and again.

"And why do you like me so much, Georgie ?" This puzzled the little fellow. He thought and thought. At last he said, "I don't know. But I

(1) Continued from p. 140.

"Why, sir," said the worthy old gentleman, holding up his glass with awful dignity, and extending his left arm on the back of Mr. Hutchins' chair, and putting his body into a sort of oblique position, as much as to say, "Do not be too much astounded by my penetration"-with a slow, pompous voice, "Why, I do not-ahem!-agree with you entirely-hem! Colonel Hawkner-not quite, you see-martial law is all very well, you see-ahem!-all very well in-martial law, I say ahem!-in times of great violence, you see, and excitement-in times of-hem! excitement,-yesthen, you see, it may be all very well; but I consider that- ahem!-we have, you see-we have sufficient law in our courts of justice and—hem! of equity, where there is no-you see-no-hem! particular excitement-in our courts of justice. But I cannot but censure you exceedingly-yes, censure you, Mr. Hutchins-you will excuse me-ahem!-for saying so I cannot but blame you, you see, for such foolish-hem! liberality. For, on the one hand, hem!"

I was just despairing that the worthy judge would ever desert his imaginary bench, and allow us, his victims, a little breathing time, when Hutchins, who

VOL. V.

D

Here Mrs. Hutchins whispered in Montague's ear, that "Mr. Hutchins was such a liberal man. His ideas are so benevolent-you can hardly imagine it." No, madam; quite unimaginable, doubtless." Mrs. Hutchins looked pleased and contented. "Charity," said Mr. Hutchins, pathetically, "is too little understood among us. The poor have much to complain of."

poor; you pet them till they get impertinent, and quarrel with the Union, forsooth, as if it were not a better place than they deserve,-yes, a far better place," said the colonel, warming with opposition as he saw the rector's expression of face," a set of idle scoundrels!"

"Hush, sir!" said Mr. Montague, almost severely; "remember, you are speaking of the poor. They are too blessed to be spoken of in so shocking a manner."

The colonel looked in utter astonishment, as though Mr. Montague had taken leave of his senses, and turned away with ill-concealed contempt, and no little impatience. "The poor be hanged!" he muttered, as he went off to another part of the room. Yet, nevertheless, colonel, the time is not far off, when those words of the rector will chime in thine ears; and thou wilt see them in another light, spite of all thy worldly wisdom.

"Mr. Hutchins, you, as a surgeon-ahem!" said Mr. Linsey, slowly, may understand diseases-yes, I say may understand diseases; but, you see-ahem! The evening finished off with supper. I handed the principles of charity-that is, the principles, the in Miss Hawkner, who ate abundantly, and was ideas, the notions-hem! the no-tions of charity-shocked at the profanity of the worldly-minded. She are rather matter for, you see, legal decision-for legal-hem-yes, legal decision."

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alternately sighed and swallowed, and looked miserable throughout, as though supper was a very painful duty, which she was enduring with pious

Mr. Hutchins apologized for his groaning table by saying, "You see all your supper, gentlemen; I have made quite at home with you; although I know clergymen like pretty good living, eli, Montague? A glass of wine with you, Miss Mary? May you soon be married, which I'm sure won't be long first, if the youngsters know what's what."

Yes, that is true; such is modern charity." "I am glad to see young Mr. Montague; yes-resiguation. hem! glad I am to- but the worthy magistrate was here interrupted by a hoarse, loud laugh from Mr. Hutchins, who had put his teaspoon into his hot tea, having risen at the moment from his chair, and applied it to his wife's face, as she was intently listen. ing to a long and pathetic homily from Miss Hawkner. "Alas! unhappy young giddy creature!" was just winding up her apparently very interesting story, when this practical joke aroused Mrs. Hutchins to the existence of the visible world, and her darling husband inquired in a jocose tone, "Whether there was any more tea in the house-if so, was she going to keep it for supper?" This, and the dismissal of the little boy for the night, finished the above interesting conversation for the time. It was resumed by Mr. Hutchins.

"You see, Montague, that this poor man has not got at all better, and there does not seem any likelihood of his doing so. Now I have got one of his daughters here with me to help in the house, out of pure charity," (he was the best servant in the hous, and he had her services for a shilling a-week,) "and I cannot afford to keep this man any longer. What can be done?"

"Done!" said the Colonel. "Send him to gaol. Our friend Mr. Linsey here will draw out his committal."

Having delivered himself of this exquisitely refined speech, he nodded and laughed very vehemently. I tell you what it is, Montague, we all mean to oppose you at the board of guardians; you're far too indulgent to the poor, we shall get up a regular opposition."

"Are we to suppose this to be a part of your foolish weakness and excess of charitable feeling?" said young Montague.

This disconcerted Mr. Hutchins greatly; and he stammered out that," there was reason in roasting eggs," and added something about false charity. He evidently hates Charles Montague with a fervent hatred. To change the conversation, which was not pleasant, he propounded a riddle to Miss Montague, which he assured her was his own. "When is a child not a child?-Can you guess it? When it's a-bed." And this was accompanied, as usual, with an awful explosion of laughter. Upon this there ensued a somewhat profitless conversation upon puns, in which Mr. Linsey declared that "he considered— ahem!—as a magistrate and a clergyman, that such undignified,-ahem!-yes, undignified distortions of words were inexcusable, quite inexcusable; and, though of course he did not intend any-hem!— yet he could not help agreeing with the long-hem! "I think, Mr. Hutchins," said the rector, "that-long quoted opinion-ahem!—that is, sentiment, the matter had better be reserved. I know the case, of Dr. Samuel Johnson, that-hem!-a man who and was not aware that you were so much burthened could make a pun,- yes, a pun, would pick a pocket." with their maintenance as you have stated I dare "A negative sort of guarantee for the doctor's say I can manage some way or other for them." honesty," suggested Montague.

"Eh? My dear sir, you see-hem! he is-that is, you cannot-he's in bed; and he has not been tried by the laws-hem! of our constitution-yes, of our admirable constitution-ahem! and no man is guilty, you see—that is, every man is-hem! not guilty-that is. is considered not guilty, till he is guilty-yes-offence-any offence, that is to say, to Mr. Hutchins, hem! till he is guilty."

"For them," said the colonel. "That's always your way, Mr. Montague. You are led astray by your charitable feelings, which arise from a want of knowledge of the world. I know you will excuse my frankness. Clergymen are very ignorant of all worldly wisdom. For them, indeed! You spoil the

Miss Hawkner, meanwhile, held up her hands in utter dismay, and, in a sotto voce for my particular benefit, informed me, that all makers and repeaters of puns, in her opinion, were in a very melancholy condition of mind, in fact, almost hopeless. The conversation went on in a desultory way, but it was

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Yes, I think you must forget, my dear," said Miss Hawkner; "do you not remember my telling you the story about poor Mr. Melvil,how extravagant he had become in his ways, paying immense sums for pictures, and other such worldly vanities, and taking no care about his household; and how his wife led him into all kinds of extravagances, and how, at last, he was not able to pay his debts, and is obliged to give up his establishment and go abroad, if he is not already in prison?"

"And you must excuse my saying, madam, that, when you told Colonel Hawkner so, you, unintentionally doubtless, misled him," said young Montague. "Not one of these reports is true. Neither Mrs. Melvil nor himself are extravagant persons, although I believe they plead guilty to being fond of the fine arts, and are disposed to give money and food, as well as tracts, to the poor."

Miss Hawkner was very much taken aback, for she had been rather enlarging upon certain facts which she had gathered from the housekeeper of Holden Park in one of her pious rambles.

"Do you know, sir," she said, with all the greater coldness of manner and precision of pronunciation for her temporary discomfiture," that it was not two months ago that he gave a thousand pounds for a horrid old picture, with a dirty frame not worth a five-shilling piece?" The description of the picture somewhat betrayed the nature of the authority.

"I do not so far presume, Miss Hawkner, on my acquaintance with Mr. Melvil, as to meddle with his private concerns. But, in this case, I happen to have been with him when he bought the picture, and, if I could have afforded it, I would have given double the sum willingly. It was an original of Tintoret."

you know, because the world does; but, for myself, I prefer those mighty china ornaments which you ladies collect with such laudable assiduity, because they do not pretend to be pretty, and can make themselves useful by holding something, if it is only candle-lighters."

His father looked at him, and Montague relapsed into silence. Mr. Hutchins at the same time informed his wife, that she only made herself ridiculous when she talked about such things; ending up with, "What can you know about pictures, Charlotte, I should like to know? Why, your father was too poor almost to pay for his furniture."

This piece of coarseness severely affected his goodnatured wife; it was her single weak point of attack. Her love for the memory of her father, now dead some years, was as deep as her easy heart could admit; and her husband knew this, and used it not sparingly. A tear gathered in the corner of her eye, and she heaved a half-suppressed sigh, while the colour mounted up into her forehead perceptibly. She answered, "Mr. Caldwell was a gentleman; (laying an emphasis on the word;) and I, your wife, was his daughter. If you do not respect his memory, at all events permit me to do so in peace."

There was something of dignity in Mrs. Hutchins' manner as she said this. She for once had forgotten, apparently, her husband's supposed superiority; and this sally had a visible effect upon him; for, like most men of his class, he could not stand against reserved dignity of manner, even from his wife. He felt its influence on him, and could not resist it; he was only a bully where he fancied he could be so with impunity.

At this juncture the rector, as if to allow him opportunity to recover, again recurred to the sale of pictures. "There is, I understand, besides that original of Tintoret, a beautiful scene-a marketwoman returning home through a deeply-shaded lane, by Gainsborough. I almost coveted it when I saw it a few days ago. I like it, I am free to confess, better than all the others; it is a great pity that they must

"You, sir? did you say you would give two thou-all be sold." sand pounds for a picture? Why, it's next to gambling. You are not really in earnest?"

"I really cannot understand why you should be so fond of those old dusty pictures, Mr. Charles. I remember, when we went to Dorchester about a month ago, and I had the pleasure of walking with you, you stayed such a time before the window of an old picture-seller, and when I asked you what you were looking at, you pointed out (I dare say you remember) a little old picture that looked as ugly and black as possible, and said that it was a very valuable painting. For my part, I saw nothing valuable in it." "It was a queer whim of mine, my dear Mrs. Hutchins," Montague replied, with a significant smile; "I have nothing to plead in my defence, save that it was a Teniers, not bad of its kind, that I was admiring. However, I must apologize to you for having detained you so long from the ribands and lace, which hung out so invitingly close by."

Now, Mr. Charles, you are laughing at me, I know."

I protest, madam——”

Yes, yes, I know you were. But I cannot help, notwithstanding all you say, preferring what is useful and practical. What good will a picture do? Can you tell me that?"

This finished up poor Miss Hawkner. That a clergyman should be in raptures about a picture—a gewgaw-'twas monstrous. She raised her eyes in pious horror; again did they catch a view of her very forbidding front; and shaking her head solemnly, she said, "It was a great pity they were ever bought, I think; a sinful waste of money; I should imagine that it would have done more good to send the thousands so shockingly spent to Dorchester hospital."

At this moment poor Mr. Hutchins, who had become very sulky since his snubbing, and was busily employed in helping an imaginary guest to a joint of one of the fowls before him, as a relief to his uneasiness, slipped his knife inadvertently, and the whole of the chicken went safely into the rich velvet lap of Miss Hawkner. In trying to prevent the fall of the unhappy animal, he struck his arm against the same lady's wineglass, which was full of port wine, and that went with the fowl into the aforesaid capacious lap. This was dreadful. It was a new dress, just sent down from London, and the lady was exceedingly discomposed-no apologies would suffice. She took no notice whatever of them, but made every possible bustle in pretending to remedy an irremediable accident, and then sat impatiently waiting for Mrs. Hutchins to rise from the table. This event was brought to pass the sooner, inasmuch as Colonel Hawkner was obliged to rise suddenly, as he felt