ject of virtue, he had now taken up another theory, somewhat similar to the former, but more specious, and hence more dangerous. He had been, as it were, beaten out of the notion that man could be virtuous without the assistance of the Holy Spirit; and he no longer maintained that education, honourable principles, gentlemanly habits, intellectual advantages, &c. &c., might form a character which would be above the common errors and temptations which affect men of less virtuous habits. This idea he had given up, and no longer denied that the assistance of the Lord the Spirit was necessary to form an exalted and consistent character; but his present theory was, that whereas the body of a man, though it may hereafter be raised in the likeness of Christ's body, is distinct in matter from that body which suffered upon the cross; so the spirit of man, being regenerated by the Holy Ghost, becomes, by this gift, unspeakably improved and ennobled. All the intellectual faculties are henceforward more or less conformed to what is agreeable to God, but are yet in a certain sense distinct; and the man himself is viewed, not as possessing the same spirit by which all the members of Christ are one body, but as possessing such gifts of the Spirit as render the receiver a more or less glorious existence in the same manner as a son, having received his being, his education, his mental advantages, from his father, when of age, acts and thinks for himself, and is no longer one with his parent, but, as far as that parent is concerned, independent and selfexistent. : U It requires some accuracy to explain this idea, so full it is of metaphysical subtleties, but such as Marten held it, it is very common: many admit it without being aware of it; and it may perhaps be useful to hold up this mirror of Marten's mind, in order that others may see themselves therein. But as the historian feels himself getting somewhat dry, he hastens to conclude his chapter, hoping to open the next in a gayer mood. CHAPTER XIX. The apparition of two wigs. As Henry was looking out of his window on the morning following the dispute spoken of above, he saw two very grave and reverend gentlemen crossing the street towards the college gates; the wigs of both were bushy, the hats of the orthodox coal-scuttle; both wore black silk stockings, and polished shoes with silver buckles—both being portly in their forms, and both seeming as if conscious of not being where their names had never been neard. They crossed the street directly in front of the college gates, and as they came nearer, Henry recognised Dr. Hillier; a minute after which there was a knock at his door, and Dr. Hillier entered, introducing his friend, Archdeacon Smallridge, who was in fact no other than the patron of Mr. Griffith. But as neither of these gentlemen were Henry's patrons, he received them without embarrassment, notwithstanding the amplitude of their wigs. Dr. Hillier introduced Henry to the archdeacon, saying, "Sir, this is Mr. 'Milner, of whom Mrs. Griffith spoke to you;" and then addressing the young man, he added, "it was an accidental meeting this morning in the coach with my old friend Dr. Smallridge. We were both intending to spend a day at Oxford on our way to town, and it added much to our satisfaction to be thus associated." Henry then asked after his friends at Woodville; but Dr. Hillier was not come from thence. He then asked if he should send for Griffith. pre One "Not just yet, sir, if you please," said the archdeacon, "there are two or three preliminary questions," and he hemmed and hesitated, and then went on." The young man's mother has mentioned you, Mr. Milner, in very high terms to me." Henry bowed, and Dr. Smallridge thus proceeded. "It was my intention, when coming to Oxford, to have sought an introduction to you, sir,—not anticipating the pleasure I now enjoy, in the sence of our common friend, Dr. Hillier. of my objects in this place is to inquire after the proceedings of young Griffith; his mother says he is doing well, but I know her too well to credit all she says,-poor woman, she has been too indulgent, as mothers sometimes are, Dr. Hillier, she has been too inefficient in her management, in her education, in her conduct towards that boy, whose character she has never duly appreciated; but she is a worthy woman, a well-intentioned woman. Weak women are frequently too indulgent, Dr. Hillier, to the obvious injury of the nobler sex, of whom they are the nurses and mothers." "Mr. Griffith is very steady, sir," said Henry. "I say this before you ask me, that it may not appear a forced acknowledgement. Last term he fell rather into gay company; but during the present term he has lived in great retirement-paid great attention to economyread very hard." "Good," said the archdeacon, "I did not wish to propound the question directly to you, sir, knowing that there is a sort of punctilio amongst you young gentlemen,-and very proper punctilio, too-respecting telling tales out of college, and therefore I hesitated upon the propriety of propounding the question; but as you have come forward so promptly, so readily, to attest to the character of the young man, I am satisfied; and farther, Mr. Milner, farther, I tell you, that if young Griffith continues to please me, if the reports I hear respecting him are good, I shall not forget the merits of his poor father, who was a worthy man, having no weakness but that of a too great acquiescence with the humours of his wife; and yet she, as a woman, has her respectable qualities, though weak and irrational." Dr. Hillier laughed, and said, "Old bachelors cannot judge of the trials of married men; we can be made to do anything for peace and quietness." "Peace and quietness are good,” replied the archdeacon," but not always to be obtained through acquiescence." Then addressing Henry Milner he said, "There will, I apprehend, be a fearful manifestation in a few years of the present want of discipline in our churches, col |