the year 1805, a most important question
was hourly asked in the cathedral city of Barchester: Who was to be the
new bishop?

The death of old Dr. Grantly, who had for many years filled that chair
with meek authority, took place exactly as the ministry of Lord----was
going to give place to that of Lord----. The illness of the good old man
was long and lingering, and it became at last a matter of intense
interest to those concerned whether the new appointment should be made
by a Conservative or Liberal government.

It was pretty well understood that the outgoing premier had made his
selection, and that, if the question rested with him, the mitre would
descend on the head of Archdeacon Grantly, the old bishop's son, who had
long managed the affairs of the diocese.

A trying time was this for the archdeacon as he sat by his father's
dying bed. The ministry were to be out within five days: his father was
to be dead within--no, he rejected that view of the subject.

Presently Mr. Harding entered noiselessly.

"God bless you, my dears"--said the bishop with feeble voice--"God bless
you both." And so he died.

"It's a great relief, archdeacon," said Mr. Harding, "a great relief.
Dear, good, excellent old man. Oh, that our last moments may be as
innocent and as peaceful as his!"

The archdeacon's mind, however, had already travelled from the death
chamber to the study of the prime minister. It was already evening, and
nearly dark. It was most important that the prime minister should know
that night that the diocese was vacant. Everything might depend on it.
And so, in answer to Mr. Harding's further consolation, the archdeacon
suggested that a telegraph message should be immediately sent to London.

Mr. Harding got as far as the library door with the slip of paper
containing the message to the prime minister, when he turned back.

"I forgot to tell you," he said. "The ministry are out. Mr. Chadwick got
the news by telegraph, and left word at the palace door."

Thus terminated our unfortunate friend's chance of possessing the
glories of a bishopric.

The names of many divines were given in the papers as that of the bishop
elect. And then the _Jupiter_ declared that Dr. Proudie was to be the
man.

Dr. Proudie was the man. Just a month after the demise of the late
bishop, Dr. Proudie kissed the queen's hand as his successor elect, and
was consecrated bishop of Barchester.

Dr. Proudie was one among those who early