his own child; for, in an hoarse surly voice, he said, "No, no; I shall do not such thing; let him take his chance; if he can't get off, he must be hanged." Mrs. Berkeley, on seeing the agonies of the poor distracted mother, longed to have said to him, "You will be damned." She did, however, re∣strain her indignation a little, and joined the supplications of the wretched Mother, elevated with Mr. Berkeley's message into confidence of her poor son's life, now thrown into the deepest despair. Never did the Editor so much wish for a large fortune as at that moment, to have given the mother the fee for the counsel that Mr. Monck Berkeley so earnestly recommended. After finding all soothing utterly in vain, she gave a loose to her indignation, saying every thing that it suggested to her. At length, bidding farewel to this wretched mourning mother, she returned home, without deigning to look at the old father. Much it may be sup∣posed he felt this. Not so his kind adviser, Mr. Monck Berkeley. One of the Editor's minor punishments for her children, when young, until ten or twelve years old, was, "You have not behaved well, in so, or so; I will not look at you until to-morrow dinner time." This was so keenly felt by her eldest Son, Mr. Monck Berkeley, that he would often, in the sweetest voice, supplicate, "Now do forget it, and look at me a little." A proof this, of what the Editor frequently asserts, "That a little common sense, and great steadiness, may rescue children from much cor∣poral 0