“It is out of my power, John, to secure you the inheritance.”

“This is stark folly, my lord—­confounded nonsense—­if you will pardon me.  Out of your power!  Made silly and weak in mind by illness, your opinion is not now worth much upon any subject.  It is not your fault, I admit; but, upon my soul, I really have serious doubts whether you are in a sufficiently sane state of mind to manage your own affairs.”

“Undutiful young man,” replied his father, with bitterness, “if that were a test of insanity, you yourself ought to have been this many a day in a strait waistcoat.  I know it is natural that you should feel this blow deeply; but it is neither natural nor dutiful that you should address your parent in such unpardonable language.”

“If what that parent says be true, my lord, he has himself, by his past vices, disinherited his son.”

“No, sir,” replied the old man, whilst a languid flush of indignation was visible on his face, “he has not done so by his vices; but you, sir, have morally disinherited yourself by your vices, by your general profligacy, by your indefensible extravagance, and by your egregious folly, A man placed in the position which you would have occupied, ought to be a light and an example to society, and. not what you have been, a reproach to your family, and a disgrace to your class.  The virtues of a man of rank should be in proportion to his station; but you have distinguished yourself only by holding up to the world the debasing example of a dishonorable and licentious life.  What virtue can you plead to establish a just claim to a position which demands a mind capable of understanding the weighty responsibilities that are annexed to it, and a heart possessed of such enlightened principles as may enable him to discharge them in a spirit that will constitute him, what he ought to be, a high example and a generous benefactor to his kind?  Not one:  but if selfishness, contempt for all the moral obligations of life, a licentious spirit that mocks at religion and looks upon human virtue as an unreality and a jest—­if these were to give you a claim to the possession of rank and property, I know of no one more admirably qualified to enjoy them.  Dunroe, I am not now far from the grave; but listen, and pay attention to my voice, for it is a warning voice.”

“It was always so,” replied his son, with sulky indignation; “it was never anything else; a mere passing bell that uttered nothing but advices, lectures, coffins, and cross-bones.”

“It uttered only truth then, Dunroe, as you feel now to your cost.  Change your immoral habits.  I will not bid you repent; because you would only sneer at the word; but do endeavor to feel regret for the kind of life you have led, and give up your evil propensities; cease to be a heartless spendthrift; remember that you are a man:  remember that you have important duties to perform; believe that there are such things as religion, and virtue, and honor in the world; believe that there is a God a wise Providence, who governs that world upon principles of eternal truth and justice, and to whom you must account, in another life, for your conduct in this.”