your beautifully turned expressions about our debt of gratitude to the
noble defender of our country--"

"No, no, Maria!" said her husband, with a smile; "be content without
pushing your victory further than Nelson himself would push it. It may
be my duty to spare him, but I will not fall down and worship him."

Joshua Twemlow, Bachelor of Divinity, was not very likely to worship
anybody, nor even to admire, without due cause shown. He did not pretend
to be a learned man, any more than he made any other pretense which he
could not justify. But he loved a bit of Latin, whenever he could find
anybody to share it with him, and even in lack of intelligent partners
he indulged sometimes in that utterance. This was a grievance to the
Squire of the parish, because he was expected to enjoy at ear-shot that
which had passed out of the other ear in boyhood, with a painful echo
behind it. But the Admiral had his revenge by passing the Rector's bits
of Latin on--when he could remember them--to some one entitled to an
explanation, which he, with a pleasant smile, vouchsafed. This is one of
the many benefits of a classical education.

But what are such little tags, compared with the pith and marrow of the
man himself? Parson Twemlow was no prig, no pedant, and no popinjay,
but a sensible, upright, honorable man, whose chief defect was a quick
temper. In parish affairs he loved to show his independence of the Hall,
and having a stronger will than Admiral Darling, he mostly conquered
him. But he knew very well how far to go, and never pressed the
supremacy of the Church beyond endurance.

His wife, who was one of the Carnes of Carne Castle, some few miles
to the westward, encouraged him strongly in holding his own when the