s already made his fixed resolve.
Should such attempt be made he will rebel. Dogs have turned against
their masters, and even Neapolitans against their rulers, when
oppression has been too severe. And Dr. Proudie feels within himself
that if the cord be drawn too tight, he also can muster courage and
resist.

The state of vassalage in which our bishop has been kept by his wife
has not tended to exalt his character in the eyes of his daughters,
who assume in addressing their father too much of that authority
which is not properly belonging, at any rate, to them. They are, on
the whole, fine engaging young ladies. They are tall and robust like
their mother, whose high cheek-bones, and--we may say auburn hair they
all inherit. They think somewhat too much of their grand-uncles, who
have not hitherto returned the compliment by thinking much of them.
But now that their father is a bishop, it is probable that family
ties will be drawn closer. Considering their connexion with the
church, they entertain but few prejudices against the pleasures of
the world, and have certainly not distressed their parents, as too
many English girls have lately done, by any enthusiastic wish to
devote themselves to the seclusion of a Protestant nunnery. Dr.
Proudie's sons are still at school.

One other marked peculiarity in the character of the bishop's wife
must be mentioned. Though not averse to the society and manners of
the world, she is in her own way a religious woman; and the form in
which this tendency shows itself in her is by a strict observance
of Sabbatarian rule. Dissipation and low dresses during the week
are, under her control, atoned for by three services, an evening
sermon read by herself, and a perfect abstinence from any cheering
employment on the Sunday. Unfortunately for those under her roof to
whom the dissipation and low dresses are not extended, her servants
namely and her husband, the compensating strictness of the Sabbath
includes all. Woe betide the recreant housemaid who is found to have
been listening to the honey of a sweetheart in the Regent's park
instead of the soul-stirring evening discourse of Mr. Slope. Not
only is she sent adrift, but she is so sent with a character which
leaves her little hope of a decent place. Woe betide the six-foot
hero who escorts Mrs. Proudie to her pew in red plush breeches, if
he slips away to the neighbouring beer-shop, instead of falling into
the back seat appropriated to his us