MODERN SOCIETY;
OR,
THE MARCH OF IN TELLECT
THE
CONCLUSION OF MODERN ACCOMPLISHMENTS.
BY
MISS CATHARINE SINCLAIR,
A.UrHOR OF I MODERN ACCOMPLISHItENTS," " CHARLIE SEY OUR," ETC., ETC.' Thus happiness depends, as Nature shows,
Less on exterior things than most suppose.'
NEW YORK:
ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS,,
No. 285 BROADWAY
1854,




THOMAS B. SMITH, STERE).YPER,         ROBERT CRAIGHEAD, PRINTE
216 WILLIAM STREET, N. 7




P R E F A C E.
AN attempt is made in this volnme to contrast the happiness
offered to us by our Maker with the happiness which we invent for
ourselves,-to exemplify a wide difference between the "living
fountain and the broken cistern." In our own experience, we find
that the one resembles the purity and clearness of the early dawn,
which grows brighter and brighter till the perfect day, while the
other may be compared to an evening twilight, beginning in still
gaudier hues, but growing gradually darker, till it settles into the
gloom of night.
While thus representing two opposite states of enjoyment, which
might justly be called a parallel, since they are lines which can
never be made to meet, no hesitation has been felt in representing
worldly as well as spiritual enjoyments in the brightest colors, because the superiority of the latter are more conspicuous in proportion to the accuracy with which both can be depicted. Those, indeed, who have experienced the blessedness of Christian peace,
require no demonstration of its unrivalled excellence; but the case
is otherwise with those who are ignorant of the Gospel, and have
never felt that joy " which no man knoweth, saving he that receiveth
it." Many, also, who would close at once the page of formal instruction or grave rebuke, may be induced to bestow attention on a
familiar narrative, exhibiting the development of taste and feeling
in the genuine Christian character, and to acknowledge that the
highest achievement of fashionable education is to make us appear
amiable, and appear happy, while it is the peculiar province of
Christian pfnciple to turn these appearances into reality. Works
of imagination have this additional advantage, that they may take
cognizance of faults in temper or conduct too trivial for the notice
of treatises or essays, yet so frequent in their recurrence as to form




1iv                       IPRIEFACCE
the chief moral peculiarities of the individual. Life, asLDr. Johnson
observes, is not a series of great events and illustrious actions; it is
from minute particulars and casual indications of feeling that we
form our estimate of those around us, M'ere moralists too readily
coincide in opinion with the mistaken poet, that, G" his creed can't be
wrong whose life is in the right;" while we have equal reason to
deprecate a new reading, which would seem to say, " His lZfe can't
be wrong whose creed is in the right."  It is not the handles of a
clock which constitute its actual value; but still, if they do not
point aright, during every moment of the day, and every day of the
year, we know that something is amiss within; and though it may
continue gravely and solemnly ticking the hours, no one will take
heed to its admonitions.  The superstructure of Christian conduct
cannot be justly appreciated without exhibiting the inward machinery of the mind by which external actions are directed or controlled, and therefore the authoress has, with reverence, attempted
to portray those thoughts and principles which render the pleasures,
the hopes, and the emotions of Christians entirely different fromn
others whose apparent circumstances are exactly similar, and with
whom they may be unavoidably thrown into habits of continual association.
That; fictitious narrative is a proper mode of instruction, is demon.strated to every Christian by the highest of all examples. Some excellent persons, however, whosdmit the usefulness of little tracts
and histories representing, in proper colors, vice, infidelity, and superstition among the lowver orders, inconsistently object to similar
delineations as respects the higher; yet the success of such writings
in the one department seems to encourage the hope of usefulness
by corresponding exertions in the other. Mrs. Hannah More remarkis, in her novel of Ccelebs, "how little justice has been done to
the clerical charaicter in those popular works of imagination which
are intended to exhibit a picture of living manners. So many fair
opportunities have thus been lost of advancing the interests of re-.
ligion, by personifying her amiable graces in the character of her
ministers'- The authoress feels encouraged to attempt this interesting task, from a grateful consciousness that she has enjoyed more
than ordinary occasions for appreciating the enlightened devotion,
the active benevolence, the disinterested labors, the learning, the con..
sistency, and the zeal of those who are in heart, as well as by pro.
fession, the servants of God. At the same time, on no one occasion,




PREFACE.                           V
in any of her past or present pages, has she drawn the portrait of
an individual, and no circumstances call ever induce her to do so.
Every reader of a fiction would cast the characters differently; and
it is to be hoped that all have known some whom Lady Olivia Neville's imaginary virtues miglht fairly represent.  Three originals fbr
this sketch have been confidently named, any of whom do honor to
-the success with which female excellence has been represented,
though the fancied resemblance in every case is only such as all
Christians must exhibit to each other.  There are many lively
girls like Eleanor,-without her faults, and many gentlemen as prosing as Sir Colin, to whom, white the authoress has never seen
th.em, some resemblance may easily be imagined " to give the airy
nothings place and name."  It is requested that every young lady
will believe she was intended for Matilda,-that every gentleman
will discover that he is portrayed in Sir Alfred, or Mr. Grant, and
that each will feel assured, in whatever quarter of the United Kingdom he resides, that Dr. Turray is certainly intended for the clergyman of his own parislh,-'This is a likeness, may all men declare,
And I have seen him, but I know not where."
WVith respect to the white poodle, Blanco, he is not meant for
any poodle in particular, but is a fair representation of drawing-room
dogs in general, with all their faults and good qualities, seeing that
they occupy a place of distinction in society now which entitles
them to prominent notice in any work professing to take cognizance
of the more important actors in fashionable life.
Having formerly delineated the progress of education, it is now
proposed to trace its results on the character, temper, and morals;
but each volume may be read, either in connection, or as a separate
story. The original intention was, not to carry the same narrative
on, but many readers objected to the want of a regular dunouenm'ent
in the previous work, where, according to established etiquette, virtue ought to be rewarded, and vice brought to condign punishment.
This is very appropriately termed " poetical justice," because we observe no such results in actual life.  It may be well, however, to
exhibit the triumph of virtue in scenes of fancy, where the characters cease to exist with the closing page; but it should be remembered, that while the universal desire for final equity seems to be implanted in the human breast by Him who now promises, and will one




Vi                         PREF ACE.
day execute it, —this world is not the place of retribution. Temporal happiness is granted irrespectively of merit, and frequently those
who seem most deserving of success receive the smallest share of
worldly prosperity from the hands of that Great Benefactor who
knows its real worthlessness.  The favored children of our Merciful Father are not the most pampered and indulged now; but that
in which they differ from others is the inward feeling with which
the inevitable afflictions of life are borne. —As we frequently see
the more precious exotics in a garden first planted and cherished in
darkness, that they may attain a higher and a nobler growth, so the
Christian is often reared in the gloom of adversity, and watered with
tears, while we likewise see that winter's stormy blast is necessary
to the stability of the oak.




MODERN SOCIETY
CHAPTER I.
Sorrows like showv's descend, and as the heart
For them prepares, they good or ill impart.
Some on the mind, as on the ocean, rain,
Fall and disturb, but soon are lost again:
Some, as to fertile lands, a boon bestow,
And seeds that else had perish'd live and grow.
Some fall on barren soil, and thence proceed
The idle blossom and the noxious weed.
CRABBE.
IT has been mentioned as an ancient Jewish tradition,
though, not recorded in Scripture, that, among other tests
to which the Queen of Sheba put the wisdom of Solomon
during her visit at Jerusalem, she held up, at some distance,
two large groups of flowers, the one real and the other artificial, desiring him to discriminate between them. Unable
at once to do so, and resolved, nevertheless, not to-be baffled,
the monarch instantly commanded a window to be opened,
at which a multitude of bees flew in, and settled on the natural flowers, after which there could no longer be any diffi
culty in pronouncing a correct judgment. It cannot be
doubted that the loveliest blossoms of spring may be so imitated by art that in form and color they shall seem equalled,
or perhaps excelled, and the eye, transiently glancing at
both, may be most attracted by greater brilliancy in the
one, though the freshness and fragrance of nature must, on
nearer acquaintance, prove their own superiority, and add a
charm to the creations of an Almighty hand which all the
ingenuity of man could never confer. Equally similar in
external appearance were the two heroines of our story,
Eleanor Fitz-Patrick  and Matilda- Howard.  In all that
could give grace and beauty to their earliest girlhood they
were alike; but, while Eleanor was embellished with every
outward attraction which art or ingenuity can add to the




MIODERN SOCIETY,
gifts of nature, she wanted that inward spirit which can be
only supplied by Almighty power, and which gives life and
permanence to all that is precious in the heart.  Both the
cousins were fitted to bloom amidst the sunshine of life's gay
morning, enlivening every scene on which they entered; but
the brightness and beauty of merely human excellence like
Eleanor's, must fade amidst the storms of earthly sorrow
and temptation, while the grace and the sweetness derived,
like Matilda's, from an eternal source, may indeed be bowed
down and blighted for a time, but cannot long remain obscured, and are never entirely lost, being of that "' nature"
which " dies and lives again," and which, whether in sunshine or shadow, is under a wise, unerring cultivation for an
endless and glorious existence.
On the death of Lady Olivia Neville, to whom they were
both alike indebted for that tender affection which had
constituted the happiness of their childhood, and for that
judicious kindness which had watched over them in subsequent years, the two cousins mourned over the object of
their earliest attachment, who had shown them all the endearing and devoted interest of a mother, and each in her
separate home wept bitter tears for the days that were past,
when every thought of their hearts had been dear to her
who could now hear them no more. Few had ever occasion to weep for a friend more deservedly beloved; and so
essential had her friendship become to both her nieces, that
it seemed to their young minds scarcely possible that death
had indeed caused a final separation. That voice; now silent
in the grave, had been the first to impress on their -thoughts
the fleeting nature of every earthly tie,' and taught them
to reflect, that, as soon might we anticipate day without
night, or an ocean of perpetual calm, as that this changing
scene shall continue to smile on us as brightly as it beams
on the early dawn of existence; but no reverse had yet
brought them so acutely to feel that mournful truth, until
the last solemn event which set its seal to all that they had
been taught.
When the melancholy news reached Barnard  Castle,
Eleanor was overpowered with amazement and grief. She
delivered herself up to a tempest of uncontrollable emotion,
which soon exhausted itself, and she conjured up the remembrance of everything that could add bitterness to her
sorrow. Her feelings were on most occasions like the ripple
of a summer breeze on the surface of a stream, or like breath




3OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.
on a mirror, which flits rapidly away, leaving it as cold and
as bright as before. But Eleanor now mourned for a time,
with almost frantic grief-she admired in herself every excess of sensibility; and amidst tears and hysterics, she spoke
as if the very sunshine of her life was set forever, and the
only remaining comfort that could cheer her would be to live
all her remaining days as if Lady Olivia Neville were the
witness of every thought and action.
Sir Richard Fitz-Patrick proposed that they should hasten
immediately to Edinburgh, as he wished to show the last
mark of respect and attachment to the memory of one whom
he, along with every one who had known her, felt desirous
to consecrate in their most sacred and respectful remembrance; and to this suggestion the young heiress readily acceded, glad to find any refuge from  her own depressing
thoughts, and from the mournful inactivity of grief.
To a casual observer, the earliest burst of heart-breaking
sorrow on the part of Eleanor Fitz-Patrick would have appeared to call for greater sympathy and more anxious solicitude than the deep, unobtrusive grief of Matilda Howard,
who wept silently and profoundly, though she fortified her
mind against the inroads of immoderate affliction by incessant and fervent prayer, and struggled against the excess of
that grief which she felt conscious could only end with her
life. Some minds have a wider grasp of sorrow than others,
and hers was one which felt intensely and suffered long.
There are depths in our thoughts and in our feelings, which
we ourselves can only fathom when trying events lay open
the inner recesses of our own hearts; and in this hour of
anguish and distress, Matilda seemed as if she had never
known before what it was to think or to suffer: but still she
could now place all her happiness implicitly in the hands of
that Gracious Being whomn she supremely loved, in humble
trust that hereafter His unerring designs would be revealed;
and thus she felt that to a Christian, in the utmost sorrows
of life, one comfort inalienably belongs.
Amidst the intensity and anguish of her feelings, Matilda
shrunk from the notice of every one except her parents, to
whom she revealed without reserve all the passing emotions
of her' heart, and in return she received such consolation
and sympathy as they could suggest for the time; though
long before her grief was alleviated, they each thought
that it mnight have been almost entirely subdued; and Lady
Howard, whose heart had become, by constant intercourse




10                  MODERN SOCIET Y
with the world, as hard as a well-beaten highway, having
one day surprised her in tears, thought it necessary to remonstrate.
"My dear girl,;' said she, " we have all suffered a great
misfortune, which it would be most unnatural not to deplore; but if the sorrows of life are felt so very acutely,
your spirits will be depressed beyond all remedy, at the very
commencement of existence.  The bodily health may be restored after severe injury, but the spirits once thoroughly
broken, can never be revived; therefore you must really save
up some cheerfulness to stand the wear and tear of future
years, and for my sake and your father's, let me entreat that
you will exert some fortitude."
" There can be no use in cherishing grief," observed
Sir Francis.  "I would have willingly cut off my right
hand to preserve Lady Olivia's life, and no one can lament
her more sincerely; but still it is vain to think of it,
and we must learn to turn our minds away from inevitable misfortunes.  My receipt for banishing melancholy
thoughts is, to take a good hard gallop on horseback, or
to smoke a double portion of cigars-but anything is better than to sit down and make sorrow a welcome companion."
Matilda ventured to reply, that she found it a. better
restorative to encourage reflection than to stifle it, but she
promised that nothing should be wanting on her own part
to attain peaceful and C'hristian  resignation, whilEle she
looked forward with ardent hope to the arrival of Eleanor
Fitz-Patrick, when she might have the additional comfort of
finding sympathy from one who mourned like herself.  Her
frank and affectionate heart was incapable of reserve with
those she loved, and in her present hour of sorrow she would
rather have spoken to a statue than smothered her grief
within her own breast,-what, then, could exceed the longing
desire with which she anticipated that mIoment when, with the
companion and friend of her childhood, they should mingle
their tears together, and wear out their sorrow by talking
of it.
Before the stunning effect of surprise and grief had been
sufficiently alleviated on Matilda's mind to admit of her
shedding any tears, those of Eleanor had been entirely dried
up.  The long journey from  Inverness-shire-the daily
change of air and scene-the exhilarating effect of rapid;
motion-and the thousand future plans and prospects which
flitted gaily through the magic-lantern of her fertile imagi.




OR THE MARCH 0F INTELLECIOTo     i
nation, prevented the young heiress from dwelling very
intently on the past, and when she reached her destination,
she felt but transiently affected by the solemn event which
had brought her there.
Matilda flew into the arms of her cousin when they met,
and. burst into a flood of tears.  Confident that she was at
last with one who could enter into the utmost excess of her
feelings, and who would look back with her on every endearing remembrance of the past, she now. wept unrestrainedly
in all the intensity of natural emotion.  Heedless of all but
the sacredness of her own sorrow, and forgetful of everything relating to Eleanor, except. the unbounded confidence,
of their once-happy childhood, she felt soothed' by the undoubted certainty of their mutual sympathy and affection,
while she struggled to regain her composure, and -'to say
all that-the first impulse of her feelings directed. A tear
glistened in the eye of Miss Fitz-Patrick, at the sight of
her cousin's speechless distress, and she returned her embrace with considerable warmth.  Their first interview
might have almost satisfied the feelings of Matilda, for
it was short and affectionat:e; but, when longer and- more
frequent intercourse occurred, she became sensible that a
degree of restraint and embarrassment was but too obvious
in the manner of Eleanor, and she could not remain blind
to the coldness of her expressions, and to her absence of
mind, which recalled to unavoidable remembrance, that she
was the brilliantly-endowed heiress of Barnard Castle.' I have become excessively nervous of late, and might
have been sure that our meeting would be too much for me,"
said Eleanor one day, assuming a melancholy tone, in answer
to some of Matilda's reminiscences.  "I wonder that you
are able to speak of our affliction at all, as, for my own part,
the most distant allusion to it overpowers me, and I must entreat that, till we have somewhat recovered this dreadful
event, you will never say anything at all about it to agitate
me."
"But, Eleanor, we have such consolations, that it seems
ungrateful not to reflect on the goodness o i Providence in
sending them, for truly in the midst of judgment He re
membered mercy; and our beloved aunt's death, in peace of
mind and body, seemed almost like a translation into glory,
Surely you would like to here the message she left for: you,
dear Eleanor, and all she said that day; for it was so like
herself, kind and consoling."




12                 MODERN SOCIETY,'" Not now!-I have told you already that it must be at
some future time, when I can bear agitation better," replied
the young heiress, hastily.  "1Miiss Marabout very truly remarked, that I am prodigiously altered within the last ten
days since we have been here, and she earnestly entreats me
to avoid all emotion; for she observes, what every one must
see, that I have only too much sensibility. We should endeavor, Matilda, not to water the road of life with our tears
more than can be helped, for there is both sunshine and
shadow to be found there, and my object shall be to linger
always in the first, and to avoid the other entirely when I
can; but you will probably do exactly the reverse."
"No! indeed I shall not," replied Matilda; "it is my desire to receive every event of life precisely as it is intended.
We have instructions, both how to be merry and how to be
sad; so the time may come when I shall be cheerful again,
but not now, Eleanor, not yet."' We are very differently circumstanced," observed the
heiress, in a tone of importance.  "~ Many affairs must necessarily occupy my thoughts during the short time we remain
in town, which take me off from dwelling incessantly on the
subject of our regret. You have no conception' what a multitude of things have to be settled before we leave Edinburgh.
I must bespeak a new pony carriage, as my present one is an
ugly color, and hung too low; —then every nursery-garden
in the neighborhood has to be ransacked for new plants to
decorate my American garden, which was in a blaze of glory
this summer. After that, I must select a wagon-load of
new books to replenish the library, for at present it is all so
ancient, that one might suppose it to be the ghost of the one
at Alexandria. You have no idea what ruin is brought upon
me by all my friends having become authors now; and I
find it quite an effort of memory to send for their books,
and to lay them on the table conspicuously, whenever the'accomplished writer' comes to Barnard Castle. I pointed
out yesterday to papa, as a great natural curiosity, a gentleman who is supposed never to have published! and he would
scarcely believe it possible.  My most difficult task, however,
has been to find an Italian confectioner' as our French cook,
newly imported from Paris, is quite a cordon blew, and expects
to have an artiste under him.'
Matilda felt amazed at the grave loolk of dignity with which
all this was uttered; and she could not but remember a time,
not long past, when her lively cousins would have been the




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.              13
first to ridicule, and even to burlesque, such an outbreak of
ostentation from any one else.  Her immediate impulse was,
forgetful of every restraint, to speak with the frank, goodhumored gayety of former days, and to rally Eleanor on her
sudden assumption of magnificence; but an indefinable barrier was arising between herself and the companion of her
childhood, which she could scarcely comprehend. That mere
wealth should cause such a disparity as to forbid the unre
strained exercise of all their former confidence, was what
her young and ardent mind had never anticipated.  Matilda
felt herself free and unfettered by obligation —she had no
object to gain from her cousin, nor would she have hesitated
to show such deference as was due to Miss Fitz-Patrick's superiority of station; but to find herself, as she now did on
many occasions, unaccountably treated like a humble friend
-a sort of soufire-doaleur, who must study her cousin's humors, and  implicitly follow her lead in conversation-filled
her with surprise, and with a degree of indignation, which
was foreign to the natural gentleness of her disposition.
Matilda Howard's spirit was not proud, but it was independent; and the longer she associated with Eleanor, the more
difficult she felt it to preserve herself from subservience, and
at the same time to maintain that Christian meekness which
was her duty in the sight of God.  If Eleanor asked her to
drive out, or to visit a shop, her tone was that of a superior
dictating to a protegee; and every day she seemed more hurried for time, and more anxious to escape all confidential intercourse, which Matilda couldi scarcely regret, as not only
was Eleanor's extraordinary vivacity unsuitable to her own
feelings, but she was hurt on account of Lady Olivia, to see
how soon and how entirely the sacred remembrance of her
virtues and affection was extinguished from the memory of
one who owed so much to both; and her good taste, as well
as her partial affection for Eleanor, were irresistibly hurt by
the vulgar-minded ostentation and glaring selfishness of her
whole conversation and-conduct.
"Matilda, why do you never wear rings?"2 asked Eleanor
one day, looking at her beautifully-formed hands, while
she plied the needle with busy activity.  " I should require
some additional fingers to wear all mine upon; and this
turquoise hoop cost me as much yesterday as would be
the whole annual income of some young ladies.  It appears
quite undressed to be without any; and really, Matilda,
with that imiidustrious, painstaking look, you might pass




14                 1,MODERN SOCIETY,
for a sempstress who does plain work at eighteenpence
a-day.'It would be necessary for me to turn an honest penny,
in some way or other, before I become curious in rings and
-bijouterie," replied Matilda, smiling.  " You know perfectly,
Eleanor, that I can scarcely keep myself in shoe-strings and
hair-pins, so if ever I put on a ring, it must be taken down
from the bed-curtains."
" Very true.  Now, I do think that old quiz, Lady Barnard, treated you shockingly!" replied Eleanor; "it is, in
my opinion, a complete case of swindling, when rich old
people receive very excessive attentions from any one, and slip
out of the world leaving them nothing.  I protest it ought
to be actionable!"
" But my dear Eleanor; you quite mistake ne" —--
"- Yes! yes! I know all that you expect me to believe —
disinterested kindness, pure charity, and so forth; but,
Matilda, I know the world.  What pleasure could there
be to you in reading several hours a-day to that peevish
old woman, and giving up every sort of engagement to sit
with her in the evenings?  People may act as they please;
but I must think and speak as I please, for.t  the motive
to exertion is always as plain to me as if it were inscribed
in legible characters on the face of it, and nothing diverts
me more than to see how people can deceive themselves and
others."
" You might as easily suspect right intentions as wrong
ones, Eleanor, and it would be much the more-agreeable
occupation.  I often think of a man mentioned in the
Spectator, who had a deformed and a handsome leg, so he
always judged whether people were inclined to take the
favorable view of others or not, by watching which their eye
most readily. fixed upon; and we should endeavor to be
among those who contemplate the presentable leg."
" A piropos, Lady Susan Danvers dined with us yesterday; and her large red arms were so covered with. glittering bracelets, that they reminded me of'the raw flesh which
Sinbad the Sailor threw into the Valley of Diamonds."
" You will allow, then, that it is better to'be deficient in
ornaments than to be overloaded with them.  Some of our
nouvecus, 4riches exhibit so much jewellery now, that they
look like Queens of the Sandwich Islands, or Roman Catholic
images from abroad."
"'Do yoae mean an.ything personal!' as one gentleman




OUt''SE MARCH OF INITELLECT. 
said to another, who was kicking him down stairs,' exclaimed
Eleanor, laughing.  "That hard hit was evidently levelled
at my splendid gold ear-rings.'
"No, indeed! you know me better than to suppose it possible; but I had entirely overlooked them, and you used to
coincide in miy antipathy to much carving and gilding in
our dress and decoration, Eleanor, in which, perhaps, we
still agree; but, however that may be, I shall not feel entitiled to animadvert very severely on you, unless your hair is
curled with bank-notes, or I see you hung in chains of gold
all day, like the city magistrates."'
M' atilda! I never observe you dressed for dinner without a smile, for you still wear the same perpetual necklace
that we had in the school-room.  Do you live and sleep
with it on 2'
"' I like everything that reminds me of old times, and of
the friend who gave it," replied Matilda, fixing her large,
deep, speaking eyes on Eleanor. L' She never leaves my
thoughts, and everything connected with her is dear to my
heart. The very ground she trod on, has an additional
charm for me; and I walked all over the garden at Ashgrove yesterday, Eleanor, tracing impressions of the stick
with which she supported herself last time we walked there
together.  I sat in her favorite seat.  I recalled how she
looked, and what she said, and I tried to realize the idea of
that blessed country where she now is eternally happy. Oh,
how sweet and how sad our lovely garden looked. It seemed
as if the rose-trees should not have bloomed so gayly, and
as if the bright carnations were ungrateful, to be sending
up their fragrance, when the hand that had reared them
was no more, and the laughing, joyous sunshine which
sparkled and glittered on all around, showed no sympathy
with my own mournful feelings. I remembered that the
last words of comfort and affection have been spoken from
those lips which are now closed forever, and I seemed yet
to watch the last glance of tender interest which gleamed
upon me from her dying eyes.  The truest friend we have
ever known, Eleanor, employed her latest hour in praying
for us."
Matilda paused a moment in profound emotion.  Her
voice was harmony itself, and it deepened into a tone of
intense sensibility while she spoke.  The rich full notes
of a flute could not have died away more softly on the
car.  She faltered, and became silent; but after pausing:




16                 MODERN SOC'IETY,
a moment, and watching in vain for a look of answering
sympathy in the bright cold eye of her cousin, she gently
endeavored to vary the subject, though she could not at once
dismiss it.
"Aunt Barbara is at Ashgrove still, but so altered, you
scarcely could have recognized her.  I burst into tears
when we met, more affected by the change on her than even
by the sorrow that afflicts myself.  May her consolation be
from above, for no earthly friend can afford her any, and
she says, that in the whole range of future events, there is
not a single circumstance which could give her one gleam
of pleasure. That must certainly be wrong, because a true
Christian cannot know such a word as despair; but I could
not leave her for several hours, nor get the remembrance of
her miserable countenance a moment out of my head since.'"
"Pshaw, Matilda!" said Eleanor, contemptuously; " Barbara's very sorrows formerly were always absurd and frivolous.  I remember, as a child, seeing her often in tears; and,
being then young and tender-hearted, I used to watch her
with commiseration, summing up, in my own mind, all the
causes of grief that she probably endured-her solitary existence; her brother's sudden death; the evident indifference of every one towards herself; the approach of old age,
and infirmity; the scanty pittance she had to subsist upon,
and the awful consideration of a future state.  These were
all grand, legitimate subjects of agitation; but whenever I
wasted any good sympathy upon her, and investigated beyond
my own imagination into the origin of her distress, it turned
out to be some petty affront which she had fancied.  Mamma
had given another person the precedence of her to dinner, or
I-had occupied the chair she usually sat in, or had picked up
the book she was reading, or papa did not take wine with
her. In short it never was a real, impressive distress that
touched her. feelings."
" But we must spare her now, Eleanor, for she is sadly
humbled. Did you hear that Aunt Barbara has insisted on
accepting in earnest the offer which papa lately made her
in jest, of permission to occupy Ptarmigan Cottage, in
Argyleshire, where she means, with the income recently
bequeathed, to devote herself to doing good in that neighborhood?  Mamma and papa did their utmost to detain her
with ourselves, but her melancholy reply was, with tears in
her eyes,' Ah! now that Olivia is no more, who could bear
with  e!' "




O I'E MiRCHi OF i'NTELLECT..1.' Who indeed!" exclaimed Eleanor, superciliously. " But
now, do let us call another subject, for I hate people to be,
like Paganini, always harping on one string, especially if it
be a melancholy one.  Do you know, Matilda, I am going
to have all the Barnard diamonds newly arranged in the
form of an enormous butterfly, and the ear-rings are to be
set transparent. I must be off now, to order some additional
plate and furniture for the country, so adieu! au revoi/r!
I shall try to call again before we go to Barnard Castle next
week; but you can have no idea what it is to be torn in
pieces with engagements as I am.  You may think yourself
a very lucky person, Matilda, to enjoy the privilege of moping all day over a fire, without any one asking or caring
where you are; but if I disappear for half an hour, there
are shoals of visitors crowding into the drawing-room, or else
the butler, and housekeeper, and all my people waiting. as
if they had no business on earth but to torment me.  I shall
probably find a whole host of company at home-notes waiting to be answered-and shopkeepers with things upon
sight: so you! should be properly grateful for my bestowing
so much precious time upon you already.  Come and see me
sometimes.  I am always glad to have you with me Matilda,
when I have nzo/hing else to do i"
" Eleanor! I sometimes scarcely know whether to laugh
or to cry, you are so ridiculous!" said her cousin, coloring,
and endeavoring to smile.  "Let me now exercise, probably
for the last time, my old privilege of being allowed to speak
out my whole mind. There is a change in you, Eleanor,
which cannot but be obvious to us both; and if a short time
has already produced so great an alteration in the tone you
assume towards me, I cannot but anticipate the hour when
there may be that in your manner which I should feel
scarcely entitled to overlook.  Our affection was such as I
believed neither time nor circumstances could alter; and I
thought you had known the worth of that which no wealth
can ever purchase; but we have gradually became estranged
from each other's confidence, I scarcely know how or why!
I almost feel as if it would be less painful not to see you at
all, than to see you so changed., I may be hasty,-wrong, —
imprudent to say this: but if we do not come to a right understanding at first, I shall never know when to speak. The
evil increases every time we meet, while my courage to notice
it will diminish; for our former equality in affection is already almost obsolete and forgotten.  Dear Eleanor! ay




18                  MODERN SOCOETi,
spirits are already weighed down by the sense of our irreparable misfortune; do not add to it the grief and mortification
of mourning for your loss as well as hers, and in a way so
very comfortless and unexpected.  You know how often we
were taught to Dray that our hearts might be preserved from
inordinate anxiety about earthly happiness; but if anything
could infallibly subdue and chasten my worldly affections, it
would be the deep disappointment that your alienation
would occasion to me. Let us continue, then, as we once
were, dearest i'leanor; let us remember the time when we
were friends, before either" of us knew what worldly honors
meant; and oh I let us remain so until all earthly distinctions are at an enf.i'"'' Certainly!" replied Eleanor, hastily tying on her bonnet,
and gathering her snlendid cashmere into graceful folds
round her sylph-like figure.  "You know very well, Matilda,
that I prefer you to any one else, and it would be very wrong
and ungrateful to do otherwise; but pray make due allowances, considering that I have no leisure either to look back
upon former-times, or forwarrl to tthe future, there is such a
peifect scramble for my imnme.diate attention among country
neighbors, victims, would-be lovers. and Scotch cousins to
the remotest generation.''Yes, Eleanor! you really -are the' hare with many
friends,' and I must not be c,,itious about trifles. Excuse
me, then, if I have been hasty and 9 unreasonable.  Your regard is necessarily scattered amon(r the many claimants who
court it, while mine may be reserved for the few who will
seek and value it.  I shall try, therefore. to think you unchanged; and, happen what will, it s.all be noticed no more;
for, perhaps, in the solitude of my heart where an aching
void must long remain, I may have loonked with too keen
an eye on the only friend to whom my whole feelings could
have been unreservedly opened.  The fewer friends we
cultivate, the more precious they must become  and in our
case, Eleanor, I mnight apply that hbeautiful Pers;an nramrb,' The moon looks on many flowers, the flowers see'be s ~oa
moon.' "




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLEOT.              1
CHAPTER II.
I fondly thought
In thee I'd found the friend my heart had sought;
I fondly thought, ere Time's last days were gone,
Thy heart and mine had mingled into one!
KIRIKE WHITE.
ABOITT ten days after the preceding c onversation, Sir
Francis Howard had concluded a long philippic against
luncheons, in the way in which gentlemen usually end them,
by sociably drawing his chair towards the table, and becomning the greatest beef-eater of the party himself, when Sir
Richard Fitz-Patrick entered, accompanied by Eleanor and
Miss Marabout, who were now inseparable companions, for
the young heiress would have felt as great a privation without her ci-devant governess as the unfortunate man did who
in a rash moment parted with his shadow.
"Howard! when are you coming to beat up our quarters
in the North?" asked Sir Richard, while scientifically employed in selecting the trouffles from a pact Perigord. " You
shall be up to the chin in turtle and venison every day at
our chateau."
"' Captain Ross has promised me a passage next time he
goes your way, and Captain Back is to pick me up, if he ever
returns."
1" But seriously, my good friend, we have admirable sport,
if that will be any inducement-you may shoot partridges at
the door, and catch salmon out of the window, besides having
a shot at the red deer, which abound in our forests. I, saw a
prodigious herd the day before we left Barnard Castle, and
my neighbor Alderby persevered in stalking one for fifteen
miles. The sport is so unrivalled in its way, that when once
a man is thoroughly initiated in deer-stalking he never enjoys anything else."
" Then never attempt to' initiate' me, for depend upon it,
that all my happiness in life would be ended if ever I became
disgusted with hunting. Let me be put in my coffin as soon
as the huntsman's bugle loses its attraction."




few),20;.ta OLNDER  SOCIETY~
" Bring two or three of your hunters, then, next month,
for we are going to try the experiment of starting a pack
in my neighborhood.  De 3Mainbury is to hunt our country
for the first time this year, and we expect capital sport."
" Rather a hilly country to ride across,' cried Sir Francis.
I shall certainly have a steeple chase over Ben Nevis."
" We are plentifully peopled with foxes," continued Sir
Richard eagerly; "the only danger is, that three at least
will be starting in different directions, and we.have only one
pack of hounds.but a most numerous field is likely to turn
out.  Colonel Pendarvis, Major Foley, Alderby, Fletcher,
unumbered Mackenzies, and'countless Grants.  A propos,
Tom  Grant has returned from picture-gazing abroad, and
writes me that his present intention is to aid and abet
Sir Alfred Douglas in canvassing our neighboring boroughs,
with which laudable intention they are to set out some weeks
hence for that strange, old, ivy-covered castle of the young
candidate's, which looks almost as grand and frowning as himself-but my reply to their announcement of to-day was, that
unless they both make Barnard Castle their headquarters I
shall vote on the other side.  They must positively use a
little bribery and undue influence with me, and my stipulations were peremptory."
At this moment, Eleanor inadvertently upset a basin of
sugar, and Matilda started forward to assist her; while Sii
Francis laughingly observed, that it was the first time he hat
ever seen her commit an actual gczucherie; but he hoped
that, as it was considered unlucky to throw down salt, it
must be the very reverse to overturn sugar.'' But, my
poor Matilda! what a fright you must have got, for I have
not seen such a brilliant carnation exhibited on your cheek
for months. It is lucky that none of my hunters are so
easily startled, for you shy at everything of late; and really,t Maria, we ought to do something for that poor girl, she is
becoming thinner every day, and quite out of condition now;
we must have change of scene, for she is positively vanishing
into thin air altogether, and I would lame my best hunter
to set her on her legs again. Perhaps a trip to Leamington
might be of some use, as no one can be in health now without consulting the magician there; and it would suit nme
quite as well to hunt for a season with the Warwickshire
hounds."': Pshaw! nonsense! —Let Matilda go with us to Barnard
C(astle," exclaimed Sir Richard, earnestly.  "Eleanor is




Olt THEi MAlRCII 0' IN'TELLECT.         21
flapping her wings to take flight thither next Monday, and
will be enchanted to have her of the party."
There was no suitable look of enchantment at these
words, however, in the heiress's countenance, who seemed
intent upon her occupation of paring an apple, which, to
judge from her expression, might have been the apple of
discord.
"' What do you say, Matilda." continued the hospitable
baronet, who never read looks, and always supposed his
daughter's mind to be a duodecimo edition of his own. " We
have a spare corner in the britschska, for I shall ride all the
way, so Eleanor and Miss Marabout only want you to complete their agreeable trio.  tou might sing catches and
glees along the road, eh? Matilda-' All'-s well'-or,' When
shall we three meet again,' eh?:'
There was both thunder and lightning in Eleanor's glance
at this unexpected proposition of her father's; but she
hummed broken snatches of the last new opera,'and tried to
seem unconscious of what was passing, until an opportunity
-occurred, when, having caught his eye, she attempted to
stop the current of his eloquence with one of those family
frowns which are like freemasons' signals, perceptible only
to the initiated.
"   know your drift, Eleanor," continued Sir Richard,
who was never very easily dismounted from  his hobby;
"but I am not reckoning without my hostess.  The seat in
our carriage is really vacant, for Charlotte Clifford has accepted the Chiltern Hundreds, and cannot leave home till
nearer Christmas, when she is to follow, instead of accompanying us.  I thought you had known this already.  But
now, Matilda, can you have all the necessaries of life ready
by Monday morning, or must we linger till Tuesday. You'are well worth waiting for, and if I think so, what must
Eleanor feel?"
" I thank you a thousand times," replied Matilda, coloring
deeply; "you are very kind, but" —  
" I never like a sentence ending with a' but,' and beginning
with a multitude of thanks-it always betokens evil," interrupted Sir Richard, hastily; " but you shall not get off
very easily, for I mean to be as pertinacious as the Scotchman who told Mr. Pitt that he considered every refusal a
step; so tell me now, what little whimsical reason are you
going to give for disappointing us 2 This is the only com
sensation we can make to Eleanor for being jilted by Char



22 2                MODERN SOCIETY,
lotte Clifford; and, indeed, now that I think of it, you ought
certainly to have had the precedence of her; and I wonder
it was not all arranged sooner, for there is nothing I enjoy
so much as to have a circle of cheerful, merry young faces
round me."
At the mention of cheerfulness, Eleanor stole, one of her
own peculiar glances at Miss Marabout, satirically directing
her attention towards the downcast expression of iMatilda's
countenance, who was painfully embarrassed, because, little
as she wished to accept the unexpected offer of this excursion, and nothing could be farther from her intention,
yet she felt wounded and surprised at the marked coldness
of Eleanor's manner, who had not said, nor looked, the most
transient expression of common civility on the occasion.
The preference given to Miss Clifford had, also astonished
and mortified her.  Matilda never imagined that with the
confident tone of superiority constantly assumed by Eleanor
in their intercourse, there was mingled a rankling feeling
of jealousy towards herself, and yet nothing had been more
aarefully instilled into the mind of her pupil by Miss Marabout than a spirit of angry and contemptuous competition
against Miss Howard.  It was, indeed, surprising how
much Eleanor had succeeded in blinding herself to her
cousin's beauty and good qualities. She had fully persuaded
herself that neither could be discernible in her own presence
-that Matilda's eyes, so G" deeply, darkly, beautifully blue,"
were not comparable to the lustre of hazel, —and that the
more subdued vivacity of Matilda's conversation could never
be preferred to the sparkling brilliancy of her own. Nevertheless, she had on a few occasions found herself unaccountably eclipsed, and without being led by that circumstance
into any diffidence of herself, it merely produced a determination to keep her cousin as much as possible in the background, as she would rather have seen any one on earth
promoted to an equality with herself than the companion
of her childhood; for it had been one chief pleasure of her
own advancement, to see how far she had left Matilda behind.
Meantime, Sit Richard was far on in his negotiation,
without any doubt of bringing it to an equitable adjustment,
telling Lady Howard that he would keep Matilda as a hostage for Sir Francis coming at Christmas; and that Eleanor
would show her cousin all the projected improvements at
Barnard Castle, and introduce her to a numerous flock of




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLEC(T     o       23
beaux who were soon to emigrate northwards.  Nothing
could well exceed the surprise of the whole assembled party,
only excepting the hospitable baronet himself, when Lady
Howard at length remarked, that she saw only one objection
to the invitation.
"You know, Sir Richard," she'said, looking at Eleanor,
"no motion can be carried until it is seconded."
"Indeed, Aunt Howard," said Eleanor, seeing that she
must speak, "papa leaves nothing to be said when once he
begins making speeches for any one, and especially for'me.
I feel like the strolling player who forgot his part, and
another advanced as his substitute saying,' This gentleman's
name is Norval! on the Grampian hills his father feeds his
flocks,' &c.; &c. I shall, of course, be, as papa says,'enchanted' to take Matilda north, and' delighted' to act as showwoman of the lions at Barnard Castle; but she will find it
odiously dull, with only Miss Marabout and me for two
months. I quite dread the thing myself, though, if my
cousin will endeavor to endure it, we must do our best to
re'nder ourselves tolerable."
Matilda's refusals now became more earnest and decided
than ever; but all her ostensible objections were goodhumoredly combated by her uncle.  The skirmish continued
for some time with great spirit on both sides; but her defensive operations were suddenly and finally defeated by
Lady Howard, who interposed again, with a peremptory acceptance of the " very considerate and kind invitation which
Sir Richard AND ELEANOHR had been good enough to volunteer so opportunely."
" Pray feel no scruple about leaving me," continued she,
determined not to see her daughter's beseeching looks.  " I
know you are scrupulous about that, and it makes me only
the more desirous to indulge you, my dear Matilda.  It will
be of the greatest benefit to your health, and we little thought
you would so soon enjoy an opportunity of lionizing Barnard
Castle."
"No more did I!" exclaimed Eleanor, pertly; " Matilda
may say, when she arrives there, like the Pope at Paris,' of all
the wonders in this place the greatest is to see pme here.' But
papa, you do everything now in such a hurried extempore
way,Athat one never knows what to anticipate."
"Ah!" said Lady Howard, delighted to teaze and draw
out her neice, "that is so pleasant; for when a surprise is
agreeable, the more unexpected the better."




24                 MODERN SOCIETY,'l'
"Yes," replied the heiress dryly, "' when it is agreeable!7'
" How very kind, Eleanor! I was sure you would be overjoyed to have Matilda; and she seems quite as pleased about
the arrangement as you are, " said Lady Howard, stealing a
satirical look at the heightened color and distressed countenance of her daughter; "what you say about the want of
company will be an additional inducement to your cousin,
who is only too fond of being alone, anid would prefer your
quiet fireside to all the' dignity dinners' and county balls
you could offer her. She will explore the beauties of Inverness-shire with untiring delight, and copy all its' birks and
braes' into her sketch-book."
"Yes; if it had been summer!" cried Eleanor, eagerly.
" I am sure Matilda would like the place best in June or
July."
" What a good kind creature you are, Eleanor!-If you
make such a point of her returning there in summer, we
may perhaps consider of it then; but I could not think of
allowing Matilda to remain much beyond Christmas now,
though we are equally obliged by your importunity on the
subject.  Sir Richard, my niece has quite inherited your
hospitality of disposition."
"But virtues in excess amount at last to vices," added
the young heiress. peevishly.  "Papa knows how I always
teaze him about his pressing five gentlemen to stay all night
with us, in Cumberland, knowing as he did, that we had only
one spare bed in the house-and when Sir Colin Fletcher
called last week, the butler said papa was not at home, but
had left orders to inquire if he could dine with him. that day.
The poor baronet thought we had picked up in the Highlands a little second-sight, to know for certain that he would
come; but it turned out that Martin had a general order to
invite every gentleman who called to make up a party. But,
papa, may I tell the story about your asking Lady Montague's ci-devant butler to dinner?  My father knew his
face perfectly, but forgot everything else, and supposing
him some old friend whom he had known long ago, he asked
him to fill up a spare corner at our dinner-party, and take
his mutton with us at six. The poor man nearly died on
the spot with astonishment, and said, according to the usual
phrase, that he would be most happy to WAIT UPON US,
which he certainly did, in one sense, for it was with a napkin in his hand, behind my chair. We shall soon be quite
a revival of




OR TiHE MARCHt OF INTELLECT-              25'The worshipful old gentleman who had a great estate,
And Icept a brave old house at a hospitable rate.'
MiAatilda muade one more vigorous attempt to evade her
iUipending fate; but, though she ran some risk of irritating
and mortifying Sir Richard by the pertinacity of her refusal and her eagerness to escape his invitation, it was all
in vain, for she was allowed to have no more influence on
her own destiny thain a trout on a fishing-hook; and Lady
Howard, having settled all the preliminaries to her own entire satisfaction, took a cordial leave of her visitors, and then
throwing herself on the sofa, she indulged in a hearty fit of
laughing.
" My dearest mothers let me hope you have been in jest
all along, and that I am not really going to be banished from
you;" said Matilda, anxiously.  "Pray relieve me by saying so."
" On the contrary, I never was half so serious about anything in my life," replied Lady Howard, decidedly; "and
let'me request that not another word may be said on the
subject. I have a particular reason for wishing that you
should spend this Christmas at Barnard Castle, and it is
fronom the very same cause, in all probability, that Eleanor
twould avoid it; but I can always manage good worthy Sir
Richard, who is all liberality and kindness, without the
sompcon of a  auano.uvre.  How I enjoy teazing Eleanor now
and then! But, Matilda, I do pity you certainly, for you
feel all her absurdities too acutely; and why do you, who
are ten times cleverer than Eleanor, not give her a hit now
and then, to show what you can do 2"
" Impossible in her own house.  If I aqm to go," observed
Matilda, dejectedly, "I shall even lose the comfort of independence there.'
"Matilda!" said Lady Howard, with a certain slowness of
speech and compression of the upper lip which was meant to
be unanswerable; "when did you ever gain a point with me
by importunity-c'est unze affaire-finie!  You ought to be seen
in the world now, and there cannot be a better opportunity
than this to' cone out.'' Where none admire,'tis useless to-excel,
Where none are beaux,'tis vain to be a belle.'
You will see a number of eligibles at Barnard Castle; and
considering, as I do, that, marriage is a womvan's profession,
it is as much my duty to place you in the wa.y of advancement
2




26                 MODERN SOCIETY,
in that line, as it is incumbent on me to send your brother
Frank to India, or Tom to Sierre Leone, if that be likely to
facilitate their promotion; therefore,I lay-a positive command
upon you to remain in the Highlands until it is my pleasure
to come there myself."
Matilda was stunned and silenced by this unexpected address; but, finding that she had done all in her power to
avert the long penance forced upon her, she felt that it was
now her duty to bear with submission what could not be
avoided; and in her well-exercised mind there was no room
for a repining thought.'Much that was painful to nature
she anticipated during her intercourse with Eleanor, but
nothing that she could not endure with cheerfulness, if it
became really inevitable; for, however trying to a sensitive
mind are the slights or the caprices- of altered friends, and
few things can be more painful, yet she knew that they might
be necessary to check the excess of that affection and confidence with which she would have given her whole heart to
her cousin, and expected an unbounded and unchangeable
return.  Matilda had often heard it remarked that our hopes
of happiness rest successively on worldly objects, like a bird
on the branches of a tree. If he be driven from perch to
perch, he wings his way at last towards Heaven; and thus,
while mourning the earliest changes which had afflicted her
own heart, she felt that if the cords were cut which bound
her most strongly on earth, her hopes and desires might perhaps thus be elevated to a better world.




OR THE M.AROCH OF INTELLECT.            27
CHAPTER III.
"Ofi allons nous, Madame?
Nous ennuyer A la campagne"
THERE is a luxury in being waited for, which seems universally understood by great people, though to the subordinate actors in life it is a pleasure quite incomprehensible and
unknown. On the morning of their setting out for Inverness-shire Eleanor Fitz-Patrick detained her cousin in momentary expectation of her arrival fully as long as personages enjoying a certain degree of self-importance think it
usually necessary for those who are considered their inferiors; but at length the open britschska with four horses
swept up to the door about half-past one, to claim the very
unwilling and unwelcome inside passenger who had been
booked for the journey.
"These are good travelling hours, Eleanor!" observed Sir
Francis, handing Matilda into the carriage, and bidding her
an affectionate farewell.
"Yes!" replied the heiress; "papa is already a stage in
advance, but I am no admirer of sunrise, when, as some poet
beautifully observes-'Like a lobster boil'd, the morn
From black to red begins to turn.'
The only advantage of travelling in my own carriage is, to
choose the hours that suit me best."
" True-it is only irrational animals that keep what are
vulgarly called rational hours. A young lady of fashion
must be distinguished from the common herd who travel in
coaches and steamboats, which all start before the peep of
day."
"Yes," replied Eleanor, glancing with visible alarm  at
Matilda's baggage, "and in another respect I differ from
those public conveyances, in a total incapacity to accommodate many packages besides my own, for the carriage will




28                TMIODERN SOCIETY,
certainly burst, if we add much more to the load it already
carries."
" Shall I order a post-chaise to follow with Matilda's dressing-box?" asked Sir Francis dryly.  "You fill up more room
in the world now, Eleanor, than in the days when I took Matilda and you, three in a gig, to Argyle-shire; and your baggage might then have been tied up, like Mr. Dowlas's, in a
pocket-handkerchief. "
The young heiress made no reply.  She always felt a mixture of fear and respect for Sir Francis Howard, whose rallying manner and ready humor had acquired a sort of influence over her which no one else could have possibly preserved.
His quick sense of the ridiculous, and unrivalled turn for
mimicry, often enabled him to show her up in a way that
made Eleanor conscious how absurdly she had acted or
spoken; and frequently, when she could have braved Lady
Olivia's affectionate remonstrances, the keen shaft of Sir
Francis' eye, and the cutting sharpness of his ready wit,
kept her in awe; and yet she liked him as well as her blunted
feelings could enable her to like any one, and enjoyed a frequent war of wit with him, in which species of mental gladiatorship it was difficult to say whose weapons were the
brightest, or which came off victorious.
" Have you heard that - Barbara set out this morning for
Argyleshire?" inquired Sir Francis.  "Poor soul! she is
sadly altered. I declare it is melancholy to see how amiable
she has become now! I have lent her Ptarmigan Cottage
during pleasure, and we hope she will soon become quite herself again!"
"I hope not, for anybody else would be better," replied
Eleanor, laughing; " you should change the name to Termagant Cottage, till she abdicates it."
"I shall postpone that alteration till you are settled
there," answered Sir Francis gravely. " You are as pungent
as a vinaigrette this morning, Eleanor!"
"There is nothing more dangerous than a bad example."
W' Well, adieu!  You are longing to be off, I suppose, and
to reach the rural plains of Inverness-shire.'Oh! for a
lodge in some vast wilderness-some boundless contiguity of
shade!' Eh, Eleanor? Long life to you, then! and take
care of my precious Matilda.  I grudge you every hour of
her society that we lose, for she is the very light of my eyes
now. But, my dear girl, write constantly; keep a pen behind




01R TLE M MARCI  OF INTELLECT.        29
your ear, and as long as you are absent I trust we shall hear
that Time has had his wings'pcaJfimees de bonheur.'"
When the carriage stopped in Maitland-street for Miss
Marabout. Eleanor turned to her cousin, saying —" By the
way, Matilda, have you any objection to sit backwards? it
would be such a charity! for Miss Marabout is subject to
headaches, and it kills me outright, the seat is so narrow,
and the back so perpendicular.  I have less scruple in
venturing this proposal, because you are such a good creature; and we young ladies are seldom promoted to any other
side."
"' No more are governesses in general; but I shall willingly give up this place, in memory of old times, when neither you nor I, Eleanor, could dare hardly to sit down in
her presence at all," replied Matilda, with her wonted vivacity of look and manner, for she could not help feeling diverted at Eleanor's extreme absurdity.
The heiress gave her cousin a good-humored, but a rather
patronising nod when she vacated her seat; and for some
time after the carriage had driven on, Matilda was occupied
in realizing to her own mind that the proud, consequentiallooking personage opposite, wrapped up in ermine fur and
Chantilly lace, with a grave, dignified aspect, and a pompous,
commanding voice, could actually be the lively, frolicsome
companion of her own juvenile days, with whom she had once
lived in the free interchange of every thought, and in the
happy confidence of unbounded, and, as she then believed,
unalterable affection. " Cease ye from man," thought Matilda; "alas! how early am I taught the frailty of human
friendship! [By the changeableness of one, and by the death
of another, I have equally lost the two who were dearest to
nie on earth.  Oh! may the sorrow of this hour only serve
to confirm the more gratefully my dependence on that eternal Friend who will never either disappoint or forsake me!"
Meantime Eleanor and Miss MIarabout had thrown themselves gracefully back into opposite corners of the britsclhska,
almost buried alive in cloaks and cushions, while they became deeply engaged in an animated discussion of all that
everybody had said or done for the last few months, during
which nothing could exceed the skill and perseverance with
which Miss Marabout flattered her ci-devant pupil, unless it
were the readiness with which her douceurs were accepted;
for frequent practice had taught her to suit the bait to those
she wished to catch, and Eleanor was becoming every day less




30                 MODERN SOCIETY,
fastidious in respect to the quantity or the quality of adulation which she could believe to be sincere as it was wellmerited.
"That was so like you i" Miss Marabout was in the act of
saying, when Matilda first aroused her attention. " As soon
as I hear of anything generous or amiable, it instantly reminds me of Miss Fitz-Patrick, for we so rarely see the heart
expand in proportion to the fortune; but yours were formed
to suit each other.'Large was her bounty, and-and-and-'"
Miss Marabout was apt to run aground in her quotations,
to which Eleanor had long been accustomed, so she did not
supply the cue, but continued the train of her own thoughts
and plans. " I always wished, as you know, to transplant
the Muckleraith family from Ashgrove, but Lady Olivia
entertained some odd notions on the subject.  The old man
is dead now, so I have taken that rustic beauty, Nanny,
whom we have so long raved about, into my service, and she
looks like a perfect fairy. The plain elder sister may blush
unseen, and remain with her mother, who will be a picturesque-looking old woman for attending to my fancy dairy
and poultry-yard."
"How very kind and judicious!" exclaimed Miss Marabout; "' but I always foretold that you would be a model for
the rich as well as a friend to the poor, and few people combine so much power and inclination to be both."
" That silly girl Nanny imagined herself attached or engaged to the under-gardener, William Grey, though I hope
she will learn better taste in my service than to fancy such
a clownish-looking youth; but, with my usual good-nature, I
have engaged him to work for me in the Highlands-and my
greatest achievement of all remains to be told. Poor old
Millar is already at Barnard Castle.  She can make herself
of no earthly use; but in every large country-house there
must inevitably be an old nurse, or superannuated housekeeper, who is a pet in the establishment, with nothing to do
but drink oceans of tea and grumble at the other servants
So I have taken Millar as a necessary grievance, and shall
let her be at grass while she lives.
Matilda felt surprised at the contemptuous tone in which
Lady Olivia's faithful, attached servant was noticed, and
phe was hurt that none of these interesting communications




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.             1l
were addressed to herself; but anxious not to be " overcome
of evil'," she listened with animated attention, and tried to
appear as if the oversight was entirely unnoticed, by joining
in the conversation with a degree of cheerfulness suited to
the tone of her companions, though they were so agreeably
occupied with each other that neither seemed conscious
of the remarks which Matilda occasionally intruded upon
them.
" With respect to your old victim, Sir Alfred Douglas,"
continued Miss Marabout, complaisantly, " I have it from,
undoubted authority that be admired no young lady abroad."
" Of course not, for you know he had seen me," replied
Eleanor.'; Ah, very true  He is said to have become handsomer
and more repulsive than ever, if that be possible; for Lady
Montague says that all Florence was in an uproar about
him, and the most diverting anecdotes were in circulation
of the hauteur and indifference with which he kept every
body at a distance last winter; but the more he tried to
repress people's attentions, the more they were obtruded upon
him."
" Of course! that is the way always! —whenever you wish
to get on in society, begin by cutting three or four perfectly
respectable people."
" Lady Montague mentioned a curious circumstance about
Sir Alfred," continued Miss Marabout, evidently wishing and
expecting to be asked for-the sequel; "but she told it me under seal of the strictest secrecy."
" Oh! delightful!" exclaimed Eleanor eagerly; " it gives
such zest to a story when people have promised not to tell
it.  Now go on!"
"But —— " said Miss Marabout, with a hesitating look
at Miss Howard.
" Nonsense!" cried Eleanor, impatiently, "' you know very
well that if Matilda had been Blue Beard's wife, she might
have been alive yet, for any danger'of her prying into secrets or repeating them.  So now for your story."
"It was very much whispered that, a few days before
Lady Amelia's death, she sent for her son, and extracted a
promise from him that he would neither marry nor engage
himself, for a certain length of time which she specified; and
it appears, from what Lady Montague can learn, that his
mother had some very-eligible match in view, but that he
prefers another, whom she does not think desirable.  I can'




$2                 MIODERNN SOCIETY~
not understand the business, having always been certain that
he was devoted to you, and Lady Amelia would have felt
too thankful for the slightest prospect of making that out,
which would have rendered her son the most envied man in
existence."
" I hate'dying requests,' because they are sure to be always something so disagreeable or inconvenient that no
living, person could expect them to be granted! We must
have an act of Parliament to annul all such extorted promises!" exclaimed Eleanor, indignantly.  " I can now explain
the whole enigma of Sir Alfred's conduct, for there need
surely be no doubt that he was an admirer, in his dry, distant, odd way; but some' good-natured friend' has certainly
shown Lady Amelia the caricature I drew of her, as a bearleader, taking about the young Baronet with a rein round
his neck.  The sketch was thought so inimitable that it circulated more than was prudent, and very probably fell into
Lady Amelia's hand, who would certainly be angry, because
her own portrait was dcleadf'lly like; so it becomes evident
that she wishes to prevent his proposing to me in a spirit of
very laudable vengeance. As long as there are old people
in the world, the course of true love never will run smooth."
" But your conjecture can scareely be correct," interposed
Matilda, trying to speak with the same indifference as if she
had been dissenting from Eleanor's verdict on the weather,
or setting her right about the day of the month, though a
rebellious blush rose on her cheek and dyed it with crimson.
" You must have mistaken Lady Amelia's opinions, because
I heard her admiring you in terms that would satisfy even
Miss Marabout. You used to say that she puffed off her favorites as if they were quack medicines, and that Lady Amelia should be poet-laureate to the Japan blacking: so on this
occasion your opinion would have been quite confirmed, for
she was all in superlatives."
" Then what took Sir Alfred abroad, unless she had doubts
of his being accepted, which would be quite reasonable and
proper, for I am not at all sure upon that score myself; but
one would, at any rate, like to be asked, if it were only for
the good it would do Sir Alfred to be surprised with a refusal. I shall set about it as soon as he comnes to lionize Barnard Castle at Christmas, when he will of course renew his
attentions."
" Attentions!" exclaimed Matilda in undisguised astonishment. "I thought, Eleanor, you complained that he never




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.              33
spoke to you! I have heard you call him IHarpocrates, the
walking gentleman, and twenty other names, to indicate his
perpetual silence."
" Yes —but every man in the world has a different way of
being in love, and Sir Alfred's is not loquacious. True love
seldom is talkative; and gentlemen often speak least to those
they think most about. For instance, Sir Alfred addressed
more of his conversation to you than to mne-but the manner
is everything on these occasions, and I would have been quite
mortified if he had seemed as much at ease with me as he
was with you.  Charlotte Clifford carried on a flirtation all
last winter with a gentleman who never even ventured on
being introduced to her.  She remarked him  frequently
watching her when she danced-he always contrived to be
opposite to her at dinner parties, and very constantly passed
by her windows in the forenoon."'"You cannot be serious, Eleanor! for I never heard a
case worse argued in my life! As long as the gentleman
looked in health he was probably thriving on hope, and if he
had died it would have been of despair."
"Poor Charlotte certainly'has a slight hallucination of
intellect upon that subject, for she is so continually expecting to be fallen in love with," replied Eleanor, laughing.'" She is, as your mother used to say,' a silly flirt, who is good
for nothing but to be married.' I have always observed that
it makes a girl intolerably conceited to be, as she is, the
best looking of three plain sisters, for parmi les aveugles Un
borgne est roi, and if there is but one eye in a family there
must be always a beauty among them. Do you believr,
Miss Marabout that Charlotte has really refused Sir Coltn
Fletcher 2"
" It is difficult to say; but no man could be worse spared
in society than poor Sir Colin, for he has such a philandering
way that every young lady of his acquaintance gives out annually she has refused him; and I make a principle of believiDg them all."
" Charlotte Clifford is never acquainted with any young
lady for an hour without asking to be her cofidlante, and
on these confidential occasions there must be something to
tell; but she has scarcely her equal in the world for getting
up a romantic story impromptu. She gave me a splendid
edition of Sir Colin's disappointment, and then asked me to
return a Roland for an Oliver by serving up poor Lord
Alderby,"




84                 MODERN SOCIETY,
1 Those who confess a petty theft to their friends expect
to be told of a murder in return;" said Miss Marabout, complaisantly;  "and you have already a multitude to answer
for.  I understand that we are to have a visit froni  that diverting vagabond, Mr. Grant,' as Lady Susan Danvers calls
himn."
"Yes," replied Eleanor, slightly coloring, " we could not
be off asking him, because he acts as Sir Alfred's second in
canvassing the neighboring county, and they are quite inseparable.  Mr. Grant's little property' marches' with mine,
though we do not march long together, as his whole estate is
scarcely so extensive as one of my largest farms. Yet you
would be astonished what influence he has acquired in the
neighborhood, as well as on his uncle Sir Evan Grant's extensive property near mine. All my people talk of his old
descent, and his high principles and extensive benevolence,
as if he were really a man of consequence."
"' Mr. Grant may say, like Sir Lucius O'Trigger, though
the mansion-house and di.rty acres have slipped away, our
honor and the family pictures remain as fresh as ever," observed Miss Marabout, with a contemptuous laugh.
" I shall not be sorry to see him  back, however," added
Eleanor; " he amuses me beyond measure; and besides,
when Sir Alfred Douglas and Mr. Grant started off with one
accord to the continent, it really seemed as if all my hangers-on had strvclk work at once."
" You really do. task them very hard, and hold out but
little hope of future reward," replied Miss Marabout, in her
usual fawning tone.'' Positively Lord Alderby's attentions
to your white poodle are quite beyond praise."
"Poor dear Blanco! it will be my greatest joy on returning home to meet him again," exclaimed Eleanor, affectedly.
" He sent me a wag of his tail by the last letter I had from
the housekeeper, and Lord Alderby has certainly been an
admirable tutor. Blanco sits at the piano, and makes sounds
not much more discordant than Lady Susan Danvers, when
she sings her only song,  Di Tanti Palpiti;' and I am told,
when you ask the dear dog what he would do for papa, he
barks like a fury; but if he is asked to show what he would
do for me, he falls down dead. That was really no bad idea
of gallantry for an elderly gentleman like Lord Alderby to
teach him."
"If you could only grind his lordship young again, and
get a carpenter's plane to diminish his enormous physiog



OR THE MAARCH OF INTELLECT.o          8
nomy," said Miss Marabout, " he might be, with the earl's
coronet, a very endurable person.  What a pity it is that
such a man should ever grow old; but I remember our
hearing, last time he dined at Barnard Castle, that the
only tooth in his head was aching; and he is accused of
being rheumatic, which shows him to be very much broke.
In short, it seems like' summer and winter when you and he
are together."
" Did you ever hear the fable," asked Matilda, "that once
upon a time, Cupid and Death having fallen asleep, Mercury
very mischievously mingled their arrows, which accounts
for young people sometimes dying, and for very old people
falling in love?"




InA6&               MODERN SOC5IETYy
CHAPTER IV.
"The yewtree lent its shadows dark,
And mnany an old oak, worn and bare,
With all its shiver'd boughs, was there."
DURtING the progress of their journey, in that singularly
bleak and desolate stage between Dalnacardoch and Dalwhinny, the evening had nearly closed in, when Matilda was
surprised to observe a well-mounted equestrian, in a long
horseman's cloak, and very much muffled up, who rode alongside of the britschska, and stared incessantly at the whole
party, as if he were resolved to identify them; but the instant that Eleanor perceived the stranger, she let down her
veil, put up her parasol, and looked at Miss Marabout, who
immediately did the same, while they began to exchange a
few whispering exclamations of surprise and annoyance.
Matilda rapidly ran up quite a little romance in her own
mind, as to who this mysterious incognito might possibly be,
and she thought his appearance fitted him admirably to; act
the villain of the piece.  He had a dark, Schedoni-louking
countenance, and his large eyes were so extremely prominent,
that, whenever he winked, it seemed an equal chance whether
his eyeballs were shut in or shut out; he was apparently
aboat fifty years of age, but still in the vigor of his strength,
and rode extremely well. It is astonishing, when people are
travelling, how intense is their curiosity to know the name
of every individual who may happen to lodge at the same
inn, or to pass on the road.  Matilda had wearied herself
with conjectures about the probable rank of their fellow-traveller, when, next morning, Sir Richard mentioned, in a tone
of apprehension to Eleanor, as if he anticipated an explosion
of indignant surprise, that he had " accidentally met Armstrong, who offered to breakfast with them at the next stage."
This intelligence was received in angry silence, and Matilda
then remembered to have heard very frequent complaints
from her cousin, that an old friend of Sir Philip's had almost
forced himself into Barnard Castle during the previous sum



OR THIE MARCt OF INTELLECT.            37
mer, and steadily kept his position there in defiance of every
stratagem which Eleanor's ingenuity could suggest to dislodge him.  ]MIatilda had laughed often at the stories she
heard of the heiress's contrivances to affront him out of the
house, and of the dogged unconsciousness with which her
hints and sarcasms were all received by the object of them;
and she could scarcely help smiling, when at length Mr. Armstrong entered their sitting-room with a sort of awkward
swagger which is usually assumed by those who are doubtful
of their welcome and determined to brave the worst. Eleanor
gave him a look of tall contempt, and scarcely bent her head
in return for a bow of almost exaggerated respect with which
the intruder saluted her.  Not a word passed between them;
yet Matilda could not but observe an expression of fierce
malignity which glittered for a moment in tile large promlinent eye of Mr. Armstrong while he bent it on Eleanor's
haughty countenance and then turned to Sir Richardl, who
received his guest with that air of easy, good-natured hospitality which nothing could alter.
Few words passed between them, however, as both gentlemen had good travelling appetites; and now began "the
war of waiters, the wreck of butter, and the crash of eggshells," while Mr. Armstrong  t"roubled'  Eleanor for as
many cups of tea as if he had been Dr. Johnson.  Towards
the olose of breakfast, when Miss Marabout accidentally addressed Miss Howarid by name, Mr. Armstrong suddenly
started round, with an expression of surprise, and held his
teacup suspended in his hand, while his large eyes became
fxed upon Matilda, and he repeated the surname again, as
if to assure himself of her identity, while she looked at him
in return with astonishment to perceive the sensation which
had been so unaccountably occasioned; and Eleanor whispered to Miss M3arabout, in a tone of satirical wonder —': Quite a dramatic start   It was really equal to Kean in
sMacbeth!"
IMr. Armstrong instantly made an effort to recover himself on hearing this remark; but Matilda observed, with perplexity, that frequently during the progress of breakfast he
stole an examining glance towards the place where she sat,
and still the " wonder grew" why her name should be an
object of such peculiar interest to a person whom she was
never conscious of having met before.
When the travellers were about to resume their journey,
Matilda was unexpectedly accosted by Mr. Armstrong, who




88                 MODERN SOCIETY,
remarked, in an under-tone which seemed intended to be
confidential, and with a very peculiar look, to which she
vainly endeavored to assign a meaning, that "he was delighted to see HEER on the road to Barnard Castle, as no one
on earth had a better right to enter that house."'' We both derive our right from the same origin, Mr.
Armstrong," replied she, smiling.  " Sir Richard's kind invitation is our best passport."' Perhaps I could show you a still surer one," muttered he
in a mysterious tone. " It would be worth a trifle to me
were mine half as good; but if Sir Philip's old friends are
not better treated, your satirical cousin may yet have cause
to remember a certain fable about the cow who stuck herself with her own horn. What would you give me, Miss
Howard, to solve that riddle for you? Perhaps I may, if
you promise to make it worth my while."
" It is worth every man's while, Mr. Armstrong, to do
what is right, and nothing can ever make it worth your
while to do wrong, therefore I can only leave you to judge
for yourself, whatever the case may be," said Matilda, turning away with unconquerable dislike from the sinister expression of his countenance. " All I venture to recommend
is, that you should neither act nor speak upon an angry
impulse."''" You are the last person on earth who should have given
me that advice, replied Mr. Armstrong with a loud laugh
which grated harshly on the gentle ear of Matilda, and she
hastily sprung into the carriage, where Eleanor wasted a
number of witticisms on her cousin about the impression
she had so suddenly made; but the career of her humor
was changed into a burst of indignation when she heard
Mr. Armstrong call out, in an apologetic tone, to Sir Richard, who looked little less astonished than his daughter,
that " he should scarcely be able to reach Barnard Castle before Christmas, as he was torn to pieces with engagements,
but would certainly reserve a week or two for their hospitalities at that time."
Before any one could frame an answer, and before the
angry flash of Eleanor's eye could be followed by the sharp
word that was ready, the incorrigible offender had finished
a civil speech with which he expressed his consciousness of
being "always so kindly welcomed;" and waving his hat
with a look which showed how fully he understood the real




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.             39
state of the case, Mr. Armstrong spurred his horse and gal
loped down the hill.
Matilda Howard's youthful spirits rose with the buoyancy of health and natural cheerfulness, her cheek was
restored to its wonted bloom, and the light of joy and goodhumor shone in her bright blue eyes. for she encouraged in
herself that continual expectation of pleasure which is in itself a pleasure-yet she had many difficulties and discouragements to encounter from Eleanor, which, if she had allowed
herself to dwell upon them, might well have checked and
repelled a mind so sensitive as hers. If she was silent, her
cousin sneered at " people" who thought nobody good enough
to converse with-when she remarked on the weather,
Eleanor seemed to think her common-place-if she spoke
of books, it was pedantic-if she broke forth into admiration
of the landscape, she was ridiculed as being sentimental;
and the most cautious approach to religion was received by
both her companions with marked disapprobation.  As long
as the talk was of Eleanor's lovers, her estates, her jewels,
or her horses, conversation flowed smoothly on with unabating animation: even the outrageous mistakes of her footman, or the follies of her French maid, were subjects of
legitimate attention, and her very lapdog was promoted into
an object of excessive interest; for it may be observed, that
when people are exceedingly self-important, a part of their
system is to raise the dignity of every creature belonging to
them. At the inns where they stopped to dine, Eleanor instantly sent the waiter to order "' a chop for Fancy, done
without pepper, and to be served up immediately, as she
did not agree with irregular hours;" and it was the young
heiress's whim to make her dog of more consequence than
any one except herself.
As Eleanor persevered in an aristocratic time of setting out
late in the forenoon, Matilda gained many hours every morning, during which she enjoyed a solitary ramble amidst those
glens and mountains which are scattered along the Highland road. By the peep of day, while the heiress and Miss
Marabout were buried in deep repose, her early steps were
brushing the spangled dew from the grass, while the clear,
cool breeze played among her hair, and brightened the bloom
on her transparent cheek. Matilda's sylph-like figure had
lost nothing of its juvenile grace, and she looked like a
blossom of spring, while she glided along the shady paths,
or stood beside the stream, listening with rapture to the




40                   MODE R  SOCIETYr
morning song of the skylark soaring rapidly aloft, or to the
brilliant chorus of blackbirds and thrushes, which seemed in
gay emulation to drown each other's notes.  Matilda's voice
was sometimes raised in the deep solitude of nature, and
tuned to a hymn of praise, while her thoughts arose in ardent
gratitude to Him who formed those glorious scenes, and had
placed her there to appreciate and enjoy them.  " Can any
artificial pleasure of life be compared," thought she, "to that
which the' God of nature provides in such a world of beauty
as this i'Surrounded by his power we stand,
On every side we feel his hand,
Oh! skill for human reach too high,
Too dazzling bright for mortal eye!''
Nature may well be said to reward all her lovers without
disappointing any; and never had she a more ardent admirer than in the pure mind of Matilda Howard, who gazed
in unwearied delight on the last bright smiles of autumn,
already clothed in her fancy dress of many colors. She
watched the rising sun struggling through the morning
clouds, and observed, with almost poetical interest, the various and singular effects of mist upon the distant hills and
moorland solitudes.  At times, the fog seemed like a boundless ocean, waving beneath her feet, while here and there a
mountain-top appeared, like a distant island on the sea,, and
frequently the hills were only screened from her sight by a
thin coquettish veil of mist, which hung in graceful draperies
on the height, or stretched in wreaths along the mountaintop, till at length, floating off in transparent clouds, it displayed their massy outlines and Alpine forms, broken into a
rich variety of light and shadow.
Matilda wandered for hours enjoying the unrivalled loveliness of Kinrara, where nature has been extravagant in her
gifts of splendor and beauty.  There the broad sweep of the
majestic Spey flows on between its rugged banks, glittering
with gay and dazzling brightness, or else cast into shadows
of inky blackness, by the majestic forests of natural wood
which wave over its deep and silent waters,-while the
drooping tresses of the birch-tree floated over the gigantic
rocks and Ossianic heights, around which were festooned
wreaths of ivy and periwinkle. In the distance arose the
lofty peak of Craigellachie,where tradition tells that the last
wild boar was slain, though Eleanor remarked that bores




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.               41
enomgh were still remaining as long as Sir Colin Fletcher
survived.
Much as Matilda enjoyed those lonely rambles, she yet
felt the want of one who would say to her that " solitude is
sweet," and with whom she could live in the interchange of
thought and feeling.  Her disposition was peculiarly social,
and she had long felt conscious that, even in religion, it is
almost essential to have some one with whom we can exchange
the communication of those joys and sorrows which can only
be imparted in the most perfect confidence, and in which she
had once enjoyed a degree of entire sympathy which could
never be looked for again.  The thoughts of her departed
friend brought a tear of tender and mournful remembrance
to her eye as she glided on with no sound to accompany
reflection but that of her own light elastic step upon the
path.
There was one forbidden hope that forcibly obtruded itself on her mind, and which seemed to recur the oftener the
more carefully it was banished.   Who does not know that
VoUloir ow~blier qu;elque chose c'est y penser? and our heroine
could not entirely forget the more cultivated scenes of Douglas Priory, where conversations which had lasted but a few
moments had fixed themselves on her memory forever.  Sir
Alfred Douglas was the only person Matilda had ever met
with who seemed thoroughly to understand her sentiments,
and to whom  she scarcely found a necessity for expressing
them, so entirely did his thoughts sympathize with her own.
He had shown so much pleasule in consulting her taste upon
all his projected improvements at the Priory, and she was
conscious of his having adopted so many of her suggestions,
of his intense delight in her music and conversation, and of
his frequent muanmuvres to be near her, that nothing but his
unexpected departure for the continent had occurred to
check her increasing  belief in his attachment to herself,
which his conduct in several respects had partly served to
confirm.  On one occasion, when he had requested her to
gather a bouquet of wild-flowers, and she presented him with
a group of heart's-ease and forget-me-not, 3Mlatilda could not
cease to remember the look of sensibility with which he had
remarked that it was impossible for him to keep both, upon
which he threw away the heart's-ease, and insisted on- dividing the forget-me-not with herself  Time; which had obliterated many subsequent scenes and events from her memory,
had left that hour as vividly present to her mind as ever;




42                 lMODERN SOC'IETY,
but, always anxious to place a proper control on her natural
susceptibility of disposition, and conscious that, in every
circumstance of life, there is a duty to be done, Matilda felt
that she ought certainly to consign into oblivion any idle
imagination which interfered with the serenity and peace
that are the best accompaniments of true devotion, and which
were never in so much danger of being disturbed as when
some of those words or actions occurred to her memory which
had once led her young mind to believe that she was an object of secret preference to Sir Alfred.
To Eleanor, her cousin's unaffected delight in the wonders
and the beauties of creation was a subject of ridicule and
incredulity.  " Why, Matilda, you are quite in a fine frenzy,"
exclaimed she, sipping her coffee, and looking sleepily at her
cousin's glowing, animated countenance.  " You remind me
of the tourists' guide-books, which not only describe what
we are to see, but how we ought to feel.' Here the spectator will be enraptured.' But I never follow any one's lead,
and would not have spared a single exclamation, nor a line
of poetry, for your cascade.  It is the sort of thing I always
detested, lionizing waterfalls; and indeed upon that score I
am sadly like Madame du Deffand, who complained that she
tired to death of'i inocemt pleasre'es.' IHow often I have
been obliged from complaisance to set out on what is cruelly
nicknamed a party of pleasure, to scramble up a steep, slippery, ill-kept path, with occasional chasms of several feet to
leap over. A canopy of dripping trees overhead, and a deep
abyss of green leaves below, through which you occasionally
catch a peep of some stones and gravel, said to be the channel of a river. Then comes the cascade, not much fuller
than my shower-bath, streaming and trickling down like a
squirt. I am certain we might drink up all the water you
have seen to-day; and that if a register were kept of wet feet
and torn petticoats, it would be carried neIn. con., that' le jeu,
ne vaut pas Ia, chandelle.'
"NNo, no, Eleanor, you must have admired it.  The birds
were all crazy this fine morning, they sung so beautifully,
and the deep bass of the waterfall made a splendid accompaniment of natural music."
"I always think, in such a scene, of the comparison that
a cascade is like a scolding woman, beautiful to look at, but
in a perpetual brawl."
" Yes, it is indeed perpetual, and makes me feel like one
of the summer flies that skim along the surface of the stream,




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.              43
when I hear the voice of its waters, and see the tumult
that has been raging there, with so much life and animation, ever since the world began, and which will continue in
all its vivacity for ages after we are swept away and forgotten."
a Matilda, one would imagine you have visited the Falls
of Niagara act least, to-day; but I have no turn for rhapsodiz
ing about frowning mountains, and murmuring streams, and
fleecy-hosiery clouds.  Perhaps one may do so occasionally in
society for effect; but to come blazing in, as you have done
this morning, in a real fit of genuine ecstasy about nothing,
is quite out of my line.  With a wide domain of one's own
to admire, where, like Robinson Crusoe, I am monarch of
all I survey,' the country is endurable  but otherwise give
me any town on earth, Berwick, or Mutton-hole, in preference."
" I always feel like Cowper, that God made the country,
and man made the town; and mine is like the sensation of
a bird escaping from its cage, when first we emerge into
green fields and gay shrubberies again. I could have embraced the first tree on our road, for it seemed like a longabsent friend restored to me again."
"' Cacm'n a son, gout;'-but if you want mountains, Arthur's Seat is quite sublime enough to satisfy me. For varied
scenery, take a circuit of the Calton Hill; for umbrageous
shades, give me a parasol; and for a romantic, loverizing
promenade, scramble up the steep sides of the Castle rocks.
Then for moonlight you may indulge in a stretch along
Prince's Street, watching the splendid shops, glittering like
Aladdin's palace, with gas lamps shining picturesquely
though a long perspective of gauzes, feathers, and artificial
flowers; the apothecaries' shops sending forth a stream  of
green and rose-colored light; the pedestrians lounging about
with cigars in their mouths; and the New Club, which blazes
for an instant, like lightning, as you pass, showing a momentary glimpse of its members, picturesquely grouped on the
sofas and chairs.  How I wish the whole building, with its
contents, could be transported to my gate, for Barnard Castle
will be as dull as a hen-coop during the next two months.
There is no resource in the house except Blanco, and not a
single victim  to be captivated but Lord Alderby, whom I
shall be almost tempted to accept, for something to do."
"Many girls marry for no better reason," said Matilda.
"True enough — I verily believe that if troazssectx, favors,




44                  MODERN SOCIETY,
white satin, feathers, blonde, and marriage-jaunts were abol
ishedcl, and that no paragraph in the newspaper was allowed
to commemorate the event, and no happy couple permitted
to set off in a more splendid cavalcade than they are daily
ascustomed to, half the young ladies who fancy themselves
desperately in love would remain very rationally at home.
That newlv-invented word excitepmcnt, is the pleasure which
we are all in pursuit of; and, whether it be dancing or matrimony, therevolution of kingdoms or the death of acquaintances, all contribute their quota to that degree of excitement
which is become an actual necessary of life."
" So much stimulus to the mind is like drinking brandy;
it may produce temporary exhilaration, but leads to a painful reaction afterwards. IHow different it is, Eleanor, from
that mental composure and peace which the Scriptures point
out as our natural state of enjoyment, and which alone can
be permanent and wholesome. This life has been truly called
a changeable scene-a procession of trifles-the chief interest of which is not derived from the incidents themselves
but from the use we make of them in correcting our own dis
positions and habits of thlinking."
"Matilda, you shall be fined for preaching without a li
cense! I am always afraid to articulate three syllables now,
because a sermon is so sure to explode in my face.  Pray
talk occasionally without attempting my reformation, or considering yourself a home missionary appointed to convert
me; for really, my good friend, if Mrs. Stevens at Knaresborough ever wants an assistant and successor, I shall make
a point of recommending you."
*' I have perhaps been unguarded, Eleanor; but the time
was once when I might have thought aloud without the danger
of being misconstrued; and you know perfectly that I never
talk at any one, but often make these common-place reflections, more to school my own mind than others, for even the
frequency with which they have already been made proves
their importance; and I am anxious to forget nothing that
may strengthen the clue with which we shall be safely guided
through the labyrinth of life."
Advancing towards Inverness, the features of the country
became more majestic, and Matilda's heart expanded with
astonishment and delight when their carriage swept round
the projecting elbow of a hill. and her eyes first dwelt upon
the unrivalled splendor of Cromarty bay. Its broad expanse
shone like a sapphire, amidst an amphitheatre of rugged




OX THE MARC H OF INTELLECT.            45
mountains, clothed to their suammits with patches of natural
wood, tinged in all the richest hues of autumn, while here
and. there a brilliant sunshine glittered through the branches,
and painted every leaf upon the ground beneath. No painter
could have ventured to mix such bright and varied tints on
his pallet, as were glowing in gaudy splendor beneath a setting sun, on the sparkling waters, the glittering sails, and
the waving forests of Cromarty.  A light "' ski" of rain,
which fell in the sunshine as they passed, looked like a
shower of diamonds, and the glorious arch of a rainbow,
which stretched across the sky, was reflected like a magic
circle in the mirror beneath.
Tears of admiration sprung into Matilda's eyes when she
looked upon this profusion of beauty; but she dared not give
vent to a single thought that filled her heart at the moment
when it overflowed with devout and holy joy. No answering
look was elicited when she turned to Eleanor and Miss
Marabout for sympathy, but giving a cold glance of indifference at the brilliant panorama, accompanied by an impatient
conjecture whether Sir Richard had yet reached Dingwall to
order dinner, they resumed an interesting discussion relating
to the intolerable stupidity of Pauline, and her extreme dislike to her deputy, Nanny Muckleraith, many strong evidences of which were related by Eleanor with infinite zest
and only slight disapprobation.
" I never see that poor girl now; for Pauline is outrageously jealous of her being so excessively admired, and I
scarcely dare mention her name. You know one must keep
on good terms with an Abigail, coute qui coute, and mademoiselle never does my hair tolerably unless she is in good
humor."
" Then Pauline may be considered as a, viceroy over you,"
observed Matilda; " and poor Nanny, when exposed to all
the whim and caprice you describe, must often look back
with regret on the garden at Ashgrove, and wish she had
still to sozt turnips instead of handkerchiefs."
"Pray send for her sometimes then, and be melancholy
together," replied Eleanor, laughing.  " She has almost
broken her heart lately, I am told, about some foolish attachment to William Grey, the under-gardener, and it really
provokes one to hear of such intolerable stupidity. I told
her once that nature had made a mistake in giving her such
a name and station, but that, if she pleased me I would rec.
tify the blunder."




46                 M>ODERN SOCIETY,
" Most generous, indeed," said Miss Marabout.
" She was very grateful at the tile, but Nanny is never
two hours of the same mind, and has become so flighty and
odd of late, that I sometimes think she is scarcely in her
right senses.  You know her father was once in confinement
for a year, and there is a glare in her brilliant eyes that
sometimes almost alarms me, especially since this affair of
William Grey, and all her brouilleries with Pauline.  Luckily,
they have not a language in common to quarrel in," added
Eleanor, laughing, " as each is obliged, for indispensable reasons, to prefer her own; and it is fortunate in another respect, as Pauline is quite a Frenchwoman in her principles,
if she can be imagined to have any principles at all: she
flirts prodigiously, and is not supposed to be of very immaculate reputation; but I must turn a deaf ear to all gossip on
that score, seeing that I could not exist, or at least dress,
without her.;'
"Is there likely to be a change of ministry soon?" asked
Matilda; "you seem to find great faults in the present administration."
" No, no! as Charles the Second observed, there may be
oppression and injustice against my subjects, but X1 see
nothing against myseli," replied Eleanor, in a tone of great
complacency; for it is a favorite piece of self-importance
with vain people to set themselves above general rules, and
to boast of doing what no other person could venture; so
that when Eleanor talked of keeping a, maid whose character
appeared questionable, it was to show with what impunity
she might brave Matilda's opinion, or that of any one else
who was tied down to ordinary customs in their actions and
thoughts.




OR THIE MARCH OF INTELLECT.           gt
CHA PTER V.
This castle hath a pleasant seat!
MACBETII.
MATILDA had not imagined it possible that any accession
of dignity could take place in the demeanor which Eleanor
assumed throughout their journey; but when her carriage
at length reached the princely domain of Barnard Castle,
she seemed to swell out with fresh imnportance, while, assuming a studied air of indifference, she pointed out all that
might enhance the estimate of her extensive possessions,
saying, in the careless, accidental tone usual among landed
proprietors, "' All the grounds on each side of the road now
are mine. I am MIarquis of Carrabas, whichever way you
turn."
A fat, unwieldy, consequential-looking old woman swung
open an enormous iron gate, surmounted by armorial shields
bearing the Barnard arms, and flanked by two ivy-covered
lodges which were so handsome as to give promise of future
magnificence, and the approach was entered by a dense wilderness of trees, like an Indian jungle, through which the
road cut its winding way, till it emerged upon the noble and
extensive park, stretching, with its verdant glades and lofty
woods, to the utmost verge of the horizon.  Large groups of
ancient trees bowed their majestic heads on every side;
while Eleanor, in the exuberance of her spirits, bowed to
them in return; and the graceful fallow deer might be seen
pasturing in distant herds, or occasionally tossing their
branching horns, and bounding across the velvet sward.  A
broad river, which flowed impetuously through the park,
swept almost round the house, and was lost in a lake of such
crystal clearness, that the variegated tints of every tree were
reflected on its bosom; and the whole was closed in by a
distant range of craggy mountains. crested by dark thickets
of pine, which were seen in bold relief on the evening sky.
Matilda stood up in the carriage, partly to indulge, but
chiefly to conceal the emotion with which she was filled by




48                 MIODERN SOCIETY,.such a scene, and her heart whispered, in a tone of devout
admiration aind praise,
"'Twas great to speal this world from nought,'Twas greater to redeem."
" Miss Marabout," said'ELleanor, gazing with proud exultation at some wide-spreading oaks which skirted the terrace,
" I should not like to be as old as the very youngest of those
trees; but it would certainly be desirable to resemble them
in one respect-becoming always more beautiful the older
they grow.  What changes I shall have to make here," added
she, glancing a mlagnificent look around.  "No alteration
has been attempted for centuries, and if my great-grandfather
Sir Hildebrand himself could come back for a day or two,
he would scarcely discover any innovations; but I shall cut
and carve in all directions, to show what the finger of taste
can do."
" Those mountains,, hills, and valleys will not be easily
altered," thought Matilda.  " It is in such scenes as these
that men have doubted whether the natural beauty of the
world was not allowed to continue unimpaired, while its
moral beauty has been defaced.  I often meet in society the
most pleasing natural charaoters, and I look at such scenes
of natural beauty as these, till I imagine them fragments
and specimens, as it were, of what has been once, and of what'will be again.  We shall yet see a new heaven and a new
earth of unimaginable beauty, inhabited by a people of inconceivable holiness, whose enjoyments will remain undisturbed
by those longings after a' better country,' and after a more
heavenly frame of mind, which we now experience, and which
it is the business of our present lives to encourage."
" I mean to prove myself a model of taste, as well as of all
the other virtues and graces," continued Eleanor.  " You
know, Matilda the genius of most ladies is confined to planning improvements on a cap, or to meandering over mazes
of muslin and tulle; but mine shall be immortalized on vistas, flower-beds, clumps, and plantations which will astonish
your weak mind.  And now let me introduce you to my
chateau."
Miss Howard turned her eager eyes, and beheld, on the
declivity of a neighboring hill, the noble, commanding site
of Barnard Castle, which was a striking specimen of feudal magnificence, with its lofty circular towers, and venerable, time-worn battlements, shooting upwards amidst a




Otn THE MARCH OF IN ELLECT.             49
veteran battalion of aged fir-trees, which seemed to protect the walls, and bid stern defiance to the gayer and
more moder-a tenants of the park.  A flight of noisy rooks
expressed their terror and annoyance at any symptoms of
human habitation, by cawing and croaking vociferously;
while everything around testified to that neglect and indifference in which the place had remained during the
period when Sir Philip wasted his years in an Italian
villa, and allowed " spiders to hang their tapestry" on the
walls of that splendid home which Providence had assigned
him.
The interior of Barnard Castle corresponded with Matilda's expectations, though the floors were all so polished,
and the roof so elaborately decorated, that she nearly lost
her equilibrium in looking upwards, and would have entered
the house with a series of prostrations, like the Hindoo devotees, had it not been for Sir Richard's hospitable alacrity,
who mnet her at the door, and handed her in with a truly
gratifying degree of empressement and kindness.
" It would require a twenty-horse power to move this
chair," said he, placing her safely in one, which stood beside
a blazing fire.  "Probably some of your progenitresses wore
out a pair of eyes in embroidering those beautiful designs."
" I hate designs, and designing people too; but there are
some of my relations still left who are of that class," exclaimed Eleanor, in a peevish tone, which was loud enough
to reach Matilda's wondering ears, while the heiress stood at
a full length mirror, arranging her shining curls, and catching the reflection of her aerial figure in the numerous antique looking-glasses which hung around the walls, in massy
frames of oak.  "How frightful I look, after our long cold
drive to-day!"
" So you do 1" replied Sir Richard, archly.  "Only think,
Eleanor, what successive generations of beauties have admired themselves in that ancient mirror."
" But the last is not the least," interrupted Miss Marabout,
with flattering emphasis.
" Dear Eleanor, what head could stand all this 1" thought
Matilda, listening with affectionate regret to the fawning
adulation which followed, while she also contemplated, in
silent admiration, the gorgeous splendor of her cousin's
newly-acquired possessions. Once more, while she rose up
and strolled, neglected and alone, into the quaint old library,
MIatilda revived her resolution to view Eleanor's conduct




L5O                 MODERN SOCIETY,
towards herself with partiality and complaisance; to bear all
things, to believe all things, to hope all things, and, far from
bringing on estrangement by that captiousness in anticipating affronts which is too common on the part of old friends
towards those who are suddenly elevated, she resolved, in all
the firmness of Christian principle, not even to " harbor a
suspicious thought;" and she turned speedily back, to participate in the joyful meeting which took place between Eleanor and her professed idol, Blanco, on whom the heiress lavished every term of rapturous endearment, speaking all the
time in that peculiar tone of nonsense which ladies reserve
for the entertainment of lapdogs and babies. At length,
this scene having been prolonged to the utmost possible duration, and Eleanor having afterwards given to Pauline a
million of orders and counter-orders, she felt at leisure to
take Matilda a tour of the sitting-rooms, which she displayed
with all the gay delight of a child exhibiting its last new
toy, turning frequently round to her cousin, and exclaiming,
" Now! don't you envy me, Matilda?"
" Certainly," replied she, with that good-humored sympathy
which was as ready for the joys as the sorrows of her friends.;" What you have shown me to-day reminds one of Hafiz, in
the Arabian Nights, who borrowed an ointment which enabled him to behold all the treasures of the world; but when he
wished inordinately to possess them, you know, Eleanor, he
tried a second application, and lost his eyesight entirely; so
let me beware of deserving such a fate. My business is to
learn how to be abased, while you must study how to abound,
because both situations are appointed to us; and I feel such
implicit confidence it the unerring wisdom which directs our
different circumstances, that I could almost feel as Fen6lon
did, who once observed that he would not be at the trouble
of lifting up a straw to make anything in life different from
what he found it.".
Sir Richard, who only lived from meal to meal, had dropt
several emphatic hints on the propriety of being rigidly
punctual at dinner, before Eleanor condescended to appear
conscious of their import, till at length she started up, and
proposed to show Matilda her room.  " But, in the first place,
like all ladies doing the honors of a country house, let me
deliver a set speech, hoping you will be perfectly comfortable,
make yourself quite at home, ring for tea nine times a-day,
if you choose, and for every other necessary of life that may
be requisite, &c. Pauline is such a fine lady that I dare not




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            5 l
ask her to attend on all the stray misses who wander here
without Abigails, therefore Nanny has orders to be in every
corner of the house at once, to arrange all the dresses that
require to be put on for breakfast and dinner. As for hairdressing, those who cannot manage to do their own must wear
bonnets, for Nanny is scarcely fit to comb Blanco's, and Pauline, who learnt from the first friseur at Paris, finds it quite
troublesome enough to please me."
"If you are superstitious, Matilda, we can soon faire
dresser les chevemx a la tete," said Sir Richard.  " You are
aware that an old castle in the Highlands would scarcely be
considered respectable without its own particular ghost, and
we have a'murder room' here, in which some' Mystery of
Udolpho' was transacted long ago. It must be passed on
the way to your apartment, so look well about you, though
nothing very supernatural has occurred in my time, except
that the window-sashes are supposed to open and shut of
themselves occasionally, and a terrified kitchen-maid once
protested she had seen the ghost of a leg walking past there
in the evening."
" Probably a leg of mutton," observed Matilda, smiling.
"You forget, papa, that a noise of steps may be heard
at midnight, running up and down stairs, often; and do
you not remember, one evening, when Miss Marabout and
I watched, she at the top landing-place, and myself at the
bottom, with an arrangement that we were to fly to each
other whenever the noise began? The agreement had not
been made above ten minutes before we both heard footsteps, and flew to meet; but though she came down, and I
ran up, we saw no living creature'on the way.'"
" You were probably both much excited, and mistook each
other's steps for something supernatural," observed Sir
Richard; "but I remember long ago a Ghost Club at
Bath, for which you might both have been eligible candidates, as no one could be admitted without telling a perfectly new and well-authenticated story of an apparition.
The' murder-room' in this house is certainly very singular,
as it had been shut up for ages and completely forgotten,
till, in moving an old picture, the door was discovered by
Sir Philip, who told me that nothing could be more strange
than the first coup d' Ail.  Whoever had been the last inhabitant, every article remained precisely as he had left it a
hundred years beffore. The bed was turned down, ready to
be slept in,-towels were laying about the room" —




2-   MODERN SOCIETY,
"His very boot-jack and slippers, I suppose," added Matilda, laughing. " It reminds one, in a small way, of Herculaneum, and I feel quite delighted to hear that we pass
near it in going to my lodging, that I may drop in, for a
moment,-only for one moment, Sir Richard, to lionize."
The baronet looked at his watch, and shook his head;
but Eleanor beckoned to her cousin with an air of more
easy familiarity than she had condescended to assume lately,
and they both hurried up a narrow, perpendicular back-stair,
near the summit of which were two opposite doors, one
leading into Matilda's room, and the other, which Eleanor
opened first, ushered them into an apartment more singular
in its aspect than her guest had been at all prepared to see.
It was a large, low-roofed, dark-looking gallery, filled with
lumber, and the extent was so vast, that in a dingy twilight,
which penetrated through one or two narrow-pointed casements, the distance was lost in obscurity, though enough
was revealed at one glance to afford the ready eye of Matilda a field of unbounded diversion and curiosity. Close to
the wall were ranged a double, and in some places a triple
pile of foreign pictures, many in frames, and others only
stretched upon wood. A few of the subjects were laughably
grotesque, and others appeared to be splendid specimens of
art, which Sir Philip had probably meant to suspend in the
drawing-rooms when he returned home. Packing boxes on
every side had been recently opened, and the floor was
strewed with mutilated statues, Herculaneum vases, casts
from the antique, models of Rome, Pere la Chaise, and the
Alps; cabinets, gems, marble tables, grotesque jars, and
Roman enamels. High above all, as if contemplating this
scene of devastation and disorder, stood a full-length portrait
of Sir Philip Barnard, in all the bloom of youth, and of that
handsome exterior for which he had once been celebrated.
Matilda paused a moment to contemplate it, and she felt as
if a whole lifetime were comprised in that single glance. He
seemed then just entering into manhood, full of buoyant animation, and rich in the gifts of nature and fortune. All
had now passed away-and what had been the result? No
domestic affection had brightened his enjoyments-no grateful tenantry had blessed his liberality —not a tear had been
shed over his grave-not a human being had been benefited
by his existence —but a multitude of statues and pictures
were transplanted from Rome and Florence at his command.




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            53
which now surrounded him in apparent mockery of his
wasted years and scattered income.
" It will divert me some wet morning to arrange the best
of these portraits in the entrance-hall," said Eleanor. "L My
grim-looking ancestors have literally returned to the dust,
they are so encrusted with it.  MIost of them were collateral
relations, old maiden aunts, or admirals and generals who
performed the parts of uncles in their time, but I am about
to dignify them all with new names.  The family pedigree
has furnished me with a list of innumerable peers and ladies
of quality, who connected themselves with us ages ago, and
I shall have their style and titles engraved in gilt letters on
these frames."
" But, my dear Eleanor! what a want of historical veracity — you cannot seriously intend turning those worthy,
respectable ladies and gentlemen into arrant impostors!
Though this house has been so long shut up, visitors might
come who could detect the alteration, and you may then
perhaps feel, like the valet in the play, that it is easy to
tell falsehoods, but it hurts one's conscience to be found
out. "
" I see no harm in the joke at all!-every body's ancestors look precisely the same. For instance, that lady with
the large nosegay in one hand, and a hawk resting on the
other; or this smiling sylph, with coral lips and an invisible
waist, is extant in all the galleries I ever entered; and ditto
the gentleman in pink cheeks, full-bottomed wig, and steel
armor, with a cannon just going off at his back.  Their
duplicates may be found in every old house you visit, with
different names, so why should not I indulge my whim, seeing that it is the only plan which will enable me with any
advantage to display them.? The collection is so large and
miscellaneous, that I shall be obliged to decorate the outside wall of the house with pictures at last, and as for the
statues, I wish many of them could be broken into stones for
the road, they are such mere lumber."
"I cannot really stay to hear you quizzing these venerable antiquities to their faces, and making me too late for
dinner," said Matilda, leading the way to her own room.
"You know, Eleanor, that the only subject on earth in
which the whole civilized world has agreed, is in admiring
such ancient specimens of art as these, and I shall take
many opportunities here of improving my acquaintance
with them."




54                 MODERN SOCIETY,
Miss Fitz-Patrick proceeded to stir up her cousin's fire,
which was already like a furnace, and after indulging in a
critical examination of her simple, unadorned dressing-box,
she carelessly expressed a hope that Matilda would be comfortable, and lounged towards the door, humming an opera
tune, as was her continual custom, for wherever she went
Eleanor might be heard, like a linnet, all over the house.
" I shall send up Nanny to unpack your valuables," said she,
satirically;" but really, Matilda, that plain, uncut crystal
in the dressing-case looks so like a gentleman's parapharnalia, that I consider it quite improper."
Matilda was disturbed fiom an interesting reverie into
which she had fallen after Eleanor's departure, by a gentle
tap at the door, and immediately afterwards a smart little
figure entered, most fantastically dressed as a French soubrette, with her face shaded beneath a torrent of ringlets,
and a light soufilet of a cap put on in the last extreme of
affectation.  Having looked at the intruder for some moments in silent perplexity, she suddenly exclaimed, with unfeigned astonishment,-" Nanny!-can it be possible! —you
are so altered tbat I really did not recognise you!"
"Probably not, Miss Howard," replied she, dropping a
very rustic curtsy, and looking exceedingly conceited; " Miss
Fitz-Patrick said, when she sent me here, ma'am, that I was
so improved you would scarcely know me."
" I did not say you were improved, Nanny, but altered,
and not, I fear, as far as can yet be seen, for the better; you
know well how much I am interested in your welfare, and
that since the time when we both were children, my feelings
have been the same, therefore it gives me real regret to see
that you have become thin and pale. Ribbons:and millinery
cannot conceal the real fact from an old friend like me,
Nanny, and I am perfectly convinced you are unhappy,
though I will say no more on the subject now, unless you
want advice, or wish to intrust me with the cause of your
uneasiness."
The kindness of Matilda's manner, and the gentle, though
sorrowful tone of her voice, recalled old feelings and associations to Nanny's mind-her newly-acquired affectation vanished at once, and she hung down her head in silence, while
her color went and came with alarming rapidity. Matilda
proceeded with her toilette in silence; but at length, before
she left the room, Nanny had recovered her voice, and seemed
anxious to tell the whole history of her distresses, from




OR TIHE MARCH OF INTELLECT.             55
which Matilda plainly gathered how deeply she was attached
to William Grey, her former lover, though Eleanor's advice,
and the ridicule which had been thrown upon his rustic man
ners and appearance among her own new associates, had induced her hastily to break off an engagement which had long
subtsisted between them, and the struggle of love and ambition that became obvious when she spoke would have caused
Matilda to smile had the subject been less serious in its consequences than appeared probable.  Nanny spoke with a
husky voice and a quivering lip, while she hastily plaited
up her apron into every possible shape, and occasionally
stole a glance at the mirror, nwhich generally altered the current of her expressions from the sincerity of nature to an artificial tone of rather com-ical conceit.
" I often thinkl, Miss Howard, of the time when William
was such a good scholar at your Sunday-school-what a
clever workman he is, too — and then such beautiful flowers
as he brought to church for me! Many an evening he twisted
garlands of roses and honeysuckles in my bonnet while we
sat by the river singing our hymns together-but that is over
now.  We can never be friends again as we were, and often
I can neither rest nor sleep for sorrow to think how all is
ended. Every one says it is for ny good, and that I shall
do much better, because William is too poor to marry," added Nanny, catching a glimpse of the looking-glass.  " I
should have had no comfort with him, but hard work continually and coarse food.  lndeed, Miss Howard, it is impossible to do without my tea twice a-day, now that I am
used to it; and we'have everything so grand at the second
table that I can never get accustomed to any discomfort
again.  How astonished William Grey would be! But he
never comes to the house now, for he can only be admitted
to the kitchen, and I could not help laughing the last time
he went there at the way he was ridiculed and taken off by
Sir Richard's gentleman, who can speak as like him as possible, and answered all he said in a vulgar voice, the same as
his own, but rather worse."
"This is sad indeed, Nanny! I am sorry for what you tell
me about Williaml.  He was an honest-hearted, well-princi.
pled young man, who would probably have made you happy,
and the trifling reasons that have caused a change cannot
long satisfy your own mind; but it is well when people altet
before -marriage rather than after their engagement is irrevocable."




56                 MODERN SOCIETY9
"Yes, ma'am," said Nanny in a very doubtful tone and
with tears in her eyes.
" I trust you will now find all for the best and never ret
pent of your decision.  But, Nanny, you are in new and
trying circumstances here, which makes me feel most anx
kous on your account.  Think for an instant of your kind
benefactress who is now no more, and refleet what would
have been her feelings if she could see you at this moment.
The change is great already since you first learnt to repeat
at school such texts as these-' Be ye clothed with humility
-be not high minded —le not the prince of this world
gain dominion over you.?  Alas, Nanny! the friend who
would have advised and warned you is now no more, and
who shall supply her place to either of us?  She dreaded
your being placed in a situation of such difficulty and temptation as this; but once having entered it, you may find
strength sufficient for every trial, if you seek it aright. Do
not destroy the simplicity of mind and manners that you
once had, for be assured nothing can be gained that will
compensate for the loss, and you may become ridiculous even
to those who appear most friendly. You move about the
room now with as many contortions as an eel, and none of
the faces you make in speaking are -better than the face you
have by nature. Let me hope, then, that when you attend
on me I may see the Nanny of former days to remind me
of Ashgrove, and be assured that I shall feel the warmest
interest in your welfare as long as you continue to deserve
it. I little thought at one time that such a doubt coukld be
possible; but the true test of principle is consistency',n small
matters as well as in the greatest, and before long I bhpe ta
see your dress and appearance more in accordance wisvh the
sober and rational mind you once had, and with tb,, self
denying doctrines which we have both been taught."




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLEOT.             55t
CHAPTER VI.
That weariness of all
We meet, or feel, or hear, or see.
COLERID o
IT is difficult to realize in our own conceptions, that the
noiseless foot of Time invariably advances at the same pace,
neither accelerated during our seasons of joy, nor lingering
in the days of our weariness. Months passed on at Barnard
Castle in the tranquil uniformity so agreeable to those who
have mental resources, but most tedious and intolerable
to the many who, like Sir Richard. Fitz-Patrick and his
daughter, depend for happiness on external amusement.
Eleanor, " stretched on the rack of a too easy chair," fretted
and complained forever, protesting that Time had certainly
put a drag on his chariot-wheels on purpose to tease her, and
Miss Marabout laboriously tried to beguile the weight of
present ennui by holding out the promise of future amusement
when Christmas festivities and an approaching election might
be. anticipated as the certain harbingers of gayety-every
night she remarked, in a tone of satisfaction, that one day
was over, and on Sunday mornings her regular salutation to
Eleanor was, that another week had passed, and that Christmas must be at hand.
" Yes," replied she in a tone of peevish resignation, " as
the tenant said who wanted a lease of his farm for several
centuries,'a thousand years soon passes away,' and it must
be almost as long since we came here-even the post-bag is
empty to-day, which always happens on a rainy morning."
" It would be an excellent expedient," observed Sir
Richard, "to hire a few gossiping correspondents, who shall
write regularly, and be paid like a magazine, at so much a
line, and double price if the letter comes on a bad day. I
would deduct, however, all paragraphs of apology for not
writing longer, or sooner, or oftener-all professions of
friendship, and everything in the slightest degree senti,
mental."
3*




58                 MODERN SOCIETY,
a" What havoc you would make at the post-office, if these
were all expunged," said Matilda; "4 many of our letters
would reach their destination as blank sheets of paper."
"I wonder that no quack advertisement ever proposes an
infallible cure for ennui!" exclaimed Eleanor, languidly.' "Fling but a stone, the giant dies," replied Matilda; " nothing can rid us of it entirely but exertion."
Meantime Eleanor never seemed to think of planning
mny excursions to lionize her guest over the beautiful scenery
i.round; but she cantered off on horseback alone, leaving
Matilda to explore, in solitude, the romantic glens, and al-.nost inaccessible hills in the neighborhood; while her
sketch-book became filled with views of the wild, deep ravines, the ivy-covered bridges, the tangled thickets, the foaming torrent, and the green retreats, to which she wandered
in silent, but exquisite enjoyment. Like all amiable minds,
Matilda's never fully enjoyed any pleasure till it was communicated; and often did the words of Solomon recur to her
meditations-" Wo to him that is alone i" she continually
found the want of a friend whose feelings might be an echo
to her own, as even in religious enjoyment the mind seeks
communion with a kindred spirit, that " as face answereth to
face, so may the heart of man to man."  Frequently she
stood on a lofty bank that overhung the village green, watching with animated sympathy the joyful groups which assembled there; and on all occasions, in witnessing the amusements of others, those pleasures that seemed most natural
were those in which she felt most ready to participate. The
group of laughing girls in a hay-field,-an old woman basking in the sunshine at her cottage door,-or a child carefully
cultivating its flaring wall-flower in a broken tea-pot, all in
succession caused her to stop and contemplate them with
benevolent interest, while she seldom forgot in an evening
to station herself at the library window, from whence might
be observed  the moment when old Janet Muckleraith
retired, after her daily labor. She could discern a clear
blue column of peat smoke, which curled upon the distant
hill-top, showing that the cottage fire was lighted, and then
Matilda knew that the mother and daughter were sitting
down, with thankfulness and praise, to their evening meal.
Few recreations were so delightful to her as visiting the
poor people around, for amongst them she discovered an
infinite variety of character and circumstances, while the
strongly-marked features which may be traced in unpolished




Ort THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.             $9
minds, form a subject of interest even to those whose moo
tives are unsanctified by religion. Many there were whose
genuine worth rendered them objects of real esteem, others
whose eccentricity was so broadly exhibited, that she could
not be otherwise than amused; but, wherever she went, her
first aim was to diffuse consolation amidst the sorrows of
those who were depressed or afflicted. Her most frequent
visits, however, were paid to the cottage of old Janet, whose
busy wheel was laid aside for the short period of Miss Howard's visit, with a look of such honest, heartfelt gratitude for
her attention in calling, that Matilda scarcely required her
repeated thanks to prove how cordially she was welcome; and
Martha's tidy appearance, and still tidier house, seldom
needed the apology, which was nevertheless invariably made,
for its supposed disorder.
Nothing could be more pleasing to Matilda's young and
buoyant mind than to observe the devout and thankful
spirit which both mother and daughter continually maintained. Their lives consisted not in the abundance of the
things they possessed, but amidst hard labor and many privations, they spoke of countless blessings.  Old Janet once
remarked, that it was not sufficient for Christians to speak
in general terms of the mercy they received, but that each
individual should be able to recount some advantages peculiar to himself, for which he ought to be especially grateful,
and hers was a catalogue of considerable length. Matilda
observed with regret, that, latterly, when her children were
named in the number of her comforts, the old woman
paused in the recapitulation, while a tear struggled in her
eye, and a look of anxious care clouded her usually cheerful
countenance.
"- These are changed times with Nanny," said she, giving
a furtive, agitated glance at her visitor;" and oh! Miss
Howard, I wish it may all be well, for when Satan wrestles
with poor weak sinners like us, he often lifts us up, that we
may be more easily cast down, and that the fall may be
greater.  She looks ill; and has a strange, wild way of talking sometimes, that frightens me. I am sure her quarrel
with William preys on Nanny's mind, but she will not speak
to me about it, and seldom comes here at all. There are
plenty of good excuses; but where the will is, we soon find
the way. I wish she would settle at home once more; but
Nanny is sadly spoilt for that now."
Matilda had little reason to doubt the truth of this last




60              - MODERS SOCIETtg,
assertion, and would have seen still less could she have been
present sometimes when the young beauty visited her mother
at Gowanbank cottage, where her tone of conscious superiority, and fine-lady airs, formed a striking contrast to the
blithe and happy looks of her elder sister. William Grey
still occasionally met Nanny there, though not apparently
with any intention of doing so; but all his leisure hours
were spent at old Janet's, while he assisted her more active
daughter in the garden, the dairy, and the poultry-yard.
No employment came amiss to him when Martha required
his aid. He nailed up clustering jessamines and honeysuckle on the rustic porch; he cut down the hay for her
cows in the neighboring paddock, and planted out, with a
group of lilacs, the view of some rather ruinous pig-styes,
which Nanny complained of as tormenting her eyes, whenever she crossed the garden.
"William," said Martha, one day, in the exuberance of
her gratitude, " I must once more get you and Nanny reconciled, though both very troublesome people; I have nothing
to do now but keep peace between you."
" It passes the power of any one to do that now," replied
he, gloomily; " she has set me an example which I am very
glad to follow, and I no more think her a fit wife for me than
she does herself."
" I am grieved to hear this, William; for Nanny loves
you still; and, though she is a little spoilt now, it cannot
last. I am sure when the novelty of her fine situation wears
off, she will be the Isame as ever, and you may both be reconciled."
"C No, Martha! I never should have thought of her, and I
never shall again; it has been a mistake all along, a boyish
fancy-but now I know my own mind, and I prefer some
one else."
"You! oh, William, it is impossible!-Nanny would
break her heart; but you are not in earnest? You are
angry now; but remember old times, William, and do not
quarrel with us for a trifle. Think of the days when we
went to school together, and you helped us across the burn,
and gathered daisies in the fields, and berries on the hedges;
we had no quarrels then, William, and why should we have
them now?"
"Not with -yoe, Martha," said William, coloring, and
speaking rapidly; " you must have seen long ago-you —
you surely know that every day has shown me how misera



OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.             61
ble I should be with Nanny, and how happy I might be with
-with yoarselyf"
Martha started and turned pale at this unexpected declaration; but, after a momentary struggle, she answered, with
perfect decision of voice and nanner —
" No, William, I cannot listen to this; you mistake a
little anger against Nanny for a preference of me; but it
must not be thought of or ever mentioned again.  She
loves -you, William-lindeed she does.  I know Nanny's
whole heart, and her sister must not be the person to
break it."
With all the eloquence of natural feeling and true affection, Martha entreated William's forbearance, and spoke in
defence of her absent sister, while he listened in silence,
and turned away to hide his emotion.
"I seem changeable, Martha, and do not deserve that
you should trust me at once," said he, earnestly; " but
time may bring all things round. If you are convinced of
Nanny's indifference, and of my constancy to yourself, shall
we then be happy 2 I used to think, Martha, before I ever
spoke to Nanny on the subject, that you liked me; and I
sometimes thought even then that I preferred her more on
account of what other people said, than because I loved her
myself."
Martha turned away, but could not reply-her cheek becafie pale, and her step uncertain; but she hurried to the
house and closed the door.
Many days elapsed before William saw her again, and it
became evident that she was resolutely bent on giving him
no opportunity to renew the agitating discussion which had
taken place between them; for it was only in her mother's
presence that they had at last any intercourse.  For some
time Martha's countenance seemed paler than usual, and
there was an unconquerable tremulousness in her voice when
she spoke; but these emotions were speedily and resolutely
subdued, so that no traces remained of her remembering
what had passed.
Martha usually possessed, in an eminent degree, that "joy
of countenance" which is produced by a "glad heart," and
the beauty of holiness might be seen in all she said or did;
for like the salt that seasoned her food, was the prevailing
zest given to every action of her life by the unseen presence
of religious principle, and her life might be considered as a
continual prayer, from the consciousness under which she




62                 MODERN SOCIETY,
lived of an all-seeing eye being upon her. William Grey
continued his attendance at Gowanbank, notwithstanding the
conscientious discouragement with which she persevered in
avoiding him; and could he have known how great was the
effort which it cost her to do so, his estimation of her
heart, as well as her principles, must have been greatly enhanced; for it was no common generosity which caused her
to conceal every emotion, while she continued doing all in
her power to bring on a reconciliation with her sister. Nothing could have served more strongly to exhibit the superiority of what is genuine over all that is false, than to see the.
two sisters together.  Martha, in her printed cotton gown,
checked apron, and mob-cap-active, neat, and cheerful, with
a clean house, a bright fire, and a contented mind, seemed
every way suited to be the wife of a hard-working laborer
like William Grey, who felt completely at ease and at home
when he was with her; while her more elegantly-attired and
far more beautiful sister, assuming a listless air of conscious
greatness, addressed him with the tone of a superior, and
wore such a look of condescension in her manner, that his
usually blithe and merry countenance became clouded with
displeasure whenever she spoke. Far from being apprehensive of any change in his sentiments, Nanny attributed his
silence and restraint to diffidence, and became only the more
delighted with herself, and the more capricious and consequential in her manner to others; so that even the gentle
Martha, whose whole pride and affection had once been centered in her sister, felt hurt at the oblivion to which she had
apparently consigned all former times, and sometimes even
thought it necessary to drop a good-humored hint on the
subject.
" How strange it feels," observed Nanny one day, with
a contemptuous toss of the head, " when one walks on this
floor, to feel the sand gritting under one's feet like a gravelwvalk."
"Yes," replied Martha, smiling, "we have been all our
lives so accustomed to Turkey carpets, that it does seem
odd; but Miss Howard never complains when she comes
here."
"' And those oat cakes you are baking will taste as if they
were made of sand also," added Nanny, pertly; "I cannot
manage to eat them at all, they are so like a mouthful of
dust."
" Nanny," said old Janet, shocked at her daughter's usa




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            63
percilious looks, " always enter your mother's house with a
proper feeling of respect, or do not enter it at all. I can
bear any distress more easily than to see a child of my
own look as you do now. It is a Christian duty to govern
my own family with decorum, and to preserve the authority
that God gives me in it; therefore let me desire you will
be dutiful both in your thoughts and speech while I am
present."
There was a look of maternal command in the old woman's
expression and manner which was very impressive; but yet
her lip quivered and her voice faltered.  William Grey fixed
his eyes upon Nanny for a moment with grave anxiety; but
no external symptom of compunction appeared on that beautiful face, for her eyes were fixed on the ground, an angry
frown had gathered on her forehead, and she seemed completely occupied in tying the ribbons of her bonnet.  He
looked indignantly away, and tried to direct the attention
of Martha to what passed; but she was apparently too busy
with household affairs to notice him, and he might have supposed her entirely unconscious, but for the flushed cheek and
the tearful eye which were caused by her mother's agitation,
and which she vainly tried to hide.
When William Grey got up soon after to go away, Nanny
also took leave, apparently expecting that he would offer, as
had been his custom formerly, to accompany her across the
fields towards Barnard Castle; but not seeming conscious
of her movements, he whistled a tune, and hurried off in another direction. The young beauty glanced after him with
angry contempt, and then turned to bid her sister farewell;
but Martha slipped her arm affectionately into Nanny's, and
looking at her, with an expression of almost maternal affection, she suddenly burst into tears. "Nanny! dear Nanny!"
said she, sobbing with grief, "' why are you so changed 2
Why do you distress our poor mother, and quarrel with
William? Who will ever love you as we do? Oh, come
back before you are lost entirely! I see it all! you will
learn to despise us, and be miserable yourself. What will
fine people or fine clothes do for you without peace of mind?
William will be lost forever, and-?"
"No great loss either," interrupted Nanny, angrily.
"There are some as good as he, and many better, to be met
with any day. But I am sorry to have distressed you
Martha. Never was a kinder sister in this world, and I
must be very wrong indeed before you think me so. It was




64                  MODERN SOCIETY,
not right to speak as I did when our mother was by; and I
cannot go home without telling her how sorry I am for all
that passed."
Before Martha could reply, her sister had darted hastily
back to the cottage, and entered it with flushed cheeks' and
in breathless agitation.  The old woman's head was sorrowfully leaning on a table when her daughter returned unobserved.  A deep sigh escaped from her breast, and she did
not look up, supposing it to be Martha.  Nanny gently took
her hand, and tried to speak; but her voice was inarticulate
for some moments, and she looked at her aged parent's solitary grief with feelings of severe self-reproach.
"Mother," said she, in a faltering tone, " you are to be
pitied for having such a daughter.  I have been foolish and
ungrateful to-day, but I was always a poor silly creature,
easily led away. You must take me home again, or I shall
soon forget myself altogether.  That grand house is not a
place for me."
The old woman rose up and threw herself into Nanny's
arms.'" Come back! my child! It is a blessing to know
that you are still willing. I never wished you to leave us,
and thankful shall I be for the hour when you are once more
safe with Martha and me.  We can easily get you work
about the garden and fields; for William Grey says —— "
" I do not care what William  says," interrupted Nanny,
as her sister came into the room; " he is nothing to me now,
and we are best asunder.  The only objection I have to
leave the Castle next term is, that it would seem done to
please William, who is the very last person in the world that
I care about. Sir Richard's gentleman says he mistook him
one day for a cherry in the garden, his face is so round and
so red."
The splendid monotony of Eleanor's life grew more wearisome the longer it continued. Every luxury of existence
had become as essential to her comfort, and nearly as imperceptible to her senses, as the air she breathed, while the
exaggerated view she took of petty annoyances caused her
to be fully convinced that she actually endured that large
share of trial and vexation which falls, sooner or later, to the
lot of every created being. While she wished to be envied
by all the world, and by her cousin in particular, Matilda, on
the contrary, frequently thought with pity and regret how
little an undisciplined mind can enjoy even the brightest




OR THIE MARCH OF INTELLECT.             65
portion of earthly felicity, and how singularly unprepared
Eleanor was for the inevitable vicissitudes of life.
"' What a bore!" exclaimed Miss Fitz-Patrick one day,
about the beginning of December, throwing a note peevishly
down on the breakfast-table after a hasty perusal. o" I have
never been to church but once since we came here, the distance is so great for a carriage, and the foot-path so impassable for any one except a bog-trotter like you, Matilda, and
here is a formal intimation from your paragon, Dr. Murray,
the parish clergyman, saying that he proposes coming here
to-morrow, according to his usual custom of giving prayers
and instruction once a-year in every house to the assembled
family, Hle hopes, if that time is inconvenient, that I will
name any other day which would suit me better."
" What an excellent and venerable custom that is!" observed Matilda, brightening with anticipated pleasure.'" I
like in all the great old English houses to see how universally
they contain a little private chapel consecrated to family
worship; but that admirable practice is so nearly obsolete
now, that I am told almost the only infallible proof of a
mansion being really ancient is when you find in it an altar
to the living God."
" What shall we do, MIiss MIarabout?" said Eleanor, twisting the note into a variety of contortions, and finally throwing it into the fire.  " You know I have an appointment to
meet some of Mr. Burn's people at Grassfield about the new
dairy, which must not be postponed, and, as Sir Lucius
O'Trigger says, one cannot possibly be two gentlemen at once.
It would be useless to name any other day for Dr. Murray
to come, because I never in my life made an assignation that
it was convenient to keep, and the whole ceremony will be
so formidable that I am glad of a good pretext to evade it.
Matilda you should personate mie!-we have never met, and
it would be a pleasure for you to be in my place a single hour.
Pray receive Dr. Murray, and say everytihing proper as Dame
du Chateau."'
" Masquerades never take place in the morning, Eleanor,
and you would not wish to pass a jest upon that good old
man when his errand here is so solemn and important. But
if you positively cannot, or at least will not, postpone this
architectural excursion, I shall be very glad, with your leave,
to meet Dr. Murray, though on account of the servants, as
well as for your own sake, I still hope your decision may be
revised."




MODERN SOCIETY,
" He is a man of extraordinary character, but quite out of
my line," observed Sir Richard, carefully stirring his coffee.
"A few such people in the neighborhood are very advanta,
geous in keeping up a good understanding between rich and
poor, besides that one likes to see a clergyman act as he
preaches, and Dr. Murray's whole life is a perfect sermon.
The only thing in the world that he seems to be proud of is
his profession, for no one can be ten minutes in his society
without becoming aware of it. There is a great deal of dignity in his manner too, and his eloquence and talents are so
highly spoken of, that several vacant churches in Edinburgh
have successively been offered to him lately; but he declares
that it is his intention to finish his labors where he began
them. His remark is true enough, that clergymen, like forest
trees, should not be transplanted after they are old."
" Matilda," said Eleanor, with a transient look of seriousness, "it is no small compliment to say that you will suit
such a visitor better than I shall, though the time wasbut no matter.  He might perhaps bring back some of my
old Ashgrove feelings, and I do sometimes remember those
days with a kind of sorrow that /ob never can know."
Matilda took her cousin's hand in silence, and a pause of
emotion, on both sides, succeeded.  Before either of them
could speak, however, Miss'Marabout hastily interposed her
word —" If you once see Dr. Murray, Miss Fitz-Patrick,
there will probably be no end to his demands on your benevolence; for a person's purse is no more his own, in the
hands of a philanthropist than of a highwayman.  Dr.
Murray and his sister are the most indefatigable pair I ever
heard of, and establish all sorts of institutions; each of
which you must subscribe to instantly. Sewing-schools,
knitting and spinning clubs, cottage readings, Bible societies,
dispensaries, blind asylums, hospitals for incurables, catechising visits, and Sunday classes for the old, and for the
young, and for the middle-aged.  I really wonder if it all
does any good."
Miss Marabout knew that it was easier to get blood out
of a stone than money from Eleanor Fitz-Patrick for any
purpose unconnected with ostentation or personal enjoyment,
and the effect of her exaggerated representation was. as she
expected, instantaneous, though Matilda made a vain attempt
to oppose its pernicious tendency.
" You have built more hospitals and asylums in a minute,
Miss Marabout, than Dr. Murray has done in a lifetime,"




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.             67
said she dryly.  "There is nothing of the kind at Gaelfield.
He seems, from all I hear, to be so intent on the good of
others, that one would suppose neither he nor his sister had
any affairs of their own to occupy them; but all plans of benevolence are carried on at their individual cost. Be assured,
Eleanor, that Dr. Murray, in his ministrations,'seeks not
yours, but you."'
Ah! when people set a good example, they are very apt
to expect it shall be followed, and I really cannot afford to
do that.'?' In one respect Dr. Murray is an exception to general
rule," observed Sir Richard, rising to leave the room.  "He
has on all occasions shown remarkable attachment and good
feeling towards this family, on account of Sir Philip having
presented him to the living."
"It has been observed," said Matilda, "that clergymen
often look so directly to the first Great Cause of all events,
that they overlook the gratitude due towards him who is
made instrumental to their promotion. But so great a moral
deficiency is one instance, among many, that the best feelings
of religion may be perverted.'It is almost using the words
of Scripture to say,' If ye love not the benefactor whom
you have seen, how can you love Him whom you have not
seen?2'.
Eleanor would have laughed in good earnest had she read,
in the mind of Matilda, with what lively interest and expectation she watched for the arrival of her venerable visitor. No
individual: in the range of that widely-extended neighborhood, could have excited the same feeling of pleasurable anticipation from the prospect of his coming to Barnard Castle;
for, with the grace and dignity of a refined and highly-cultivated mind, Matilda yet retained much original simplicity
of character; and it was with a palpitating heart, and a
feeling of awe nearly amounting to apprehension, that she
heard the library-door opened next day while sitting there
alone, and Dr. Murray entered.  He was an active-looking,
middle-aged man, about fifty years of age, with rather homely
features, and plain but dignified exterior.  His high, commanding forehead and clear, intelligent eye gave promise of
the bright intellect which reigned within; and, as he approached, his benevolent aspect showed at once that his was
a countenance and manner to attract entire" confidence, for
they appeared to be external indexes of that universal char



68                  MODERN SOCIETY,
ity and kindness which are the outward badge of his high
profession.
"Miss Fitz-Patrick, I presume," said he, extending his
hand with a cordial smile and a look of penetrating interest.
"Only her cousin," was the reply, with some embarrassment.  "My name is Matilda Howard."
"Miss Ifowrd!" exclaimed Dr. Murray, with a start of
surprise and an increased expression of curiosity.  "I have
already heard of you frequently.  During the last month of
Sir Philip's life, business obliged me to be in Edinburgh, and
most of my time was passed in his society.  He spoke much
of you, and I felt surprised afterwards to hear-but no matter.'It is not in man that walketh to direct his steps.' I
have frequently observed you at church, andtook for granted
that it was Miss Fitz-Patrick.  Shall I have the pleasure of
seeing her this morning?"
" I greatly fear not," replied Matilda, coloring with distress, as if she had been herself guilty of the oversight towards Dr. Murray which her cousin had shown; and with
great embarrassment, but all her usual sweetness of tone
and manner, she then briefly gave a candid explanation of
the reason why Eleanor was absent.
" I sent previous notice of this visit, trusting, if an engagement intervened, Miss Fitz-Patrick would afford me
timely intimation, that any other day might be appointed
which suited her better," said Dr. Murray, with a look of
surprise and of grave regret.  " Let me hope it need not
be attributed to entire indifference, Miss Howard, that on
this occasion any other arrangement should have been
considered paramount to the important mission on which I
come. You may imagine how frequently it has been the
subject of regret to see these splendid halls deserted; but
how much more painful shall I consider it: if, throughout
the whole extent of my parish, there should hereafter be
spread the baleful influence of an example tending to weaken
the power of Gospel truth among the many whom it will
affect.  I hoped much from  Miss Fitz-Patrick.  The careful instruction she is said to have enjoyed from one so recently departed, and the freshness of her feelings, which
have scarcely yet had time to be hardened by this world's
deceitful prosperities, had caused me to be sanguine. I
did hope that this house might early become sanctified to
the service of God, and that here there might at last be
the long-desired opportunity to deliver a message of mercy




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLEC'T.             69
from Him  in whose name T come.'We are ambassadors
for Christ.''
Dr. Murray's manner was in the highest degree impressive, and his thoughtful eye rested on Matilda with a look
of anxious inquiry; but her head was averted, and her color
rose, for she could not give one word of encouragement to
his earnest desire and expectation, that the house of Eleanor
Fitz-Patrick might ever be called on by its mistress to
" serve the living God."
" There are many here who will thankfully accept the
benefit of your instructions and prayers," said she, hastily
rising to ring for the servants; "at some future period, let
us hope that we may all learn rightly to appreciate their inestimable value."
Dr. Murray's language, in the pulpit and at all times,
was classically elegant; yet in a moment he could adapt it
to the most ignorant and illiterate. He never for an instant
degenerated into vulgarity, nor darkened counsel by words
without knowledge; but his address to the assembled domestics abounded in illustrations suited to their various capacities and was delivered with such fluency and clearness, that
any child might have understood his whole remarks. Yet,
though the language was simple, the truths he enforced were
deep, mysterious, and comprehensive.  He indulged in no
fanciful explanation of texts, nor critical corrections of our
English translation, by which learned men too often make
plain people distrustful of their Bibles; but his discourse
contained a perfect compendium of Christian doctrine, so
that no one who heard Dr. Murray with attention could remain ignorant of a single point essential to salvation; while
the whole was enforced with so much ardor, and addressed
with such earnestness to the affections and to the fears of
those around, that he really seemed to
"Preach, as though he ne'er should preach again,
To preach as dying unto dying men."
Dr. Murray observed, that in religion there are three essential parts which require incessant attention: Our duty to
God, to our neighbor, and to ourselves, which must all be continually exercised by faith, charity, and temperance.  Instead of resting in any one of these things, as too many do,
he strongly enforced the indispensable necessity laid down
in Scripture for seeking to excel in them all; and he proved
in the most unanswerable manner, that each must be actively




'70                 MODERtN SOCIETY,
pursued in order to our being acceptable servants of that allseeing God, who is the only master worth serving, because
He alone can reward all, without disappointing any.  When
Dr. 1Murray spoke of sin, and represented its wide devastations among men, his tone was not that of a superior, who
had observed in others what was foreign to his own nature,
but it was that of a father lamenting to his children a deep
misfortune, in which he as well as they were all partakers;
while he showed that, for his own pardon as well as theirs
he entertained the profoundest solicitude and the most grateful hope.  "The ruin of a soul is so great a catastrophe," he
observed, "that all nature trembles at the thought, and
Christ himself died to avert it.  Who could know so well
as He did the infinite and inconceivable importance of eternity, for His own nature was eternal, while we cannot so
much as imagine its endless duration ~ yet surely our minds
might be impressed with a holy awe to think what our future
misery would inevitably have been, if the Son of God saw so
much to pity, that he left the glories of heaven to avert it.
Shall we then dare to brave such a fate, and to reject our last
hope of deliverance and of pardon while yet it may be found?
That was an awful moment when Christ shed tears over the
lost sinners of Jerusalem; for it seemed as if he would say
to them-and may the language never be applicable to any
one here-' MIy blood ye have rejected —my tears ye shall
have: that would have saved you-these can only mourn over
your hopeless desolation.'.'
Anxiously and intently as Matilda listened, on her own
account, to all that was said: she nevertlieless became aware
of a gradual change which took place on the countenances
of those around.  Many had entered with a look of careless
curiosity, several with an expression of stubborn indifference,
and some with an aspect of ignorant stupidity. Nanny
tripped into the room with all her newly-acquired airs of
conscious beauty, and old Mrs. Gordon seemed to have no
object in coming but to watch her with looks of angry contempt.  Yet when Dr. Murray began his address, with some
kind and conciliatory remarks on the relation in which his
professional duty placed him towards each individual present-on the deep responsibility with which he must one day
answer to his and to their eternal God for the care he exercised over their consciences, and declared the interest with
which, at every future period, he would be ready to hear of
their sorrows, to advise them in difficulty, or to attend them




ORt THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.             71
in hours of sickness and extremity, the most callous heart
was touched, every wandering eye became fixed, and all were
ready, with heartfelt seriousness, to join in a solemn act of
devotion; while Dr. Murray at length concluded his visit
with a prayer, which proceeded from his divinely-instructed
mind with all the eloquence of fervent hope and reverential
awe.  Tears started into Matilda's eyes when she heard the
warmth of language, and the profound emotion with which
he prayed for absent members of the family, and especially
for the head of that house; while new confidence and hope
seemed now to arise in her mind respecting Eleanor, when
she joined her prayers to his, and thought of that promise,
so unspeakably precious to the heart of all who mourn for
the souls of others-" The prayer of the righteous man
availeth much."




V 2                   31MODERN SOCIE'TY.
CHIAPTER VII.
Where'er a tear is dried, a wounded heart
Bound up, a bruised spirit with the dew
Of sympathy anointed, or a pang
Of honest suffering soothed, or injury
Repeated oft, as oft by love forgiven;
Where'er an evil passion is subdued,
Or virtue's feeble embers found; where'er
A sin is heartily abjured and leftThere is a high and holy )laee, a. spot
Of sacred light, a most religious fane,
Where happiness descending, sits and smiles,
POLLOK.
FROM this period a new era commenced in the life of Matilda Howard.  Dr. Murray's discriminating eye had marked
the animated interest with which she listened to all he said,
and in the few words which she spoke he traced her deep
but unobtrusive knowledge of divine truth. Before taking
leave, therefore, he expressed a hope that she would occasionally visit his sister. Miss Murray, and co-operate with
her as far as it might be convenient in some plans of usefulness among the children in his parish which had but lately
been formed.
Matilda's welcome, on her first visit to Gaelfield, was so
extremely cordial, that she did not long delay returning
thither; and it soon became her almost daily walk to hasten
through a shady green lane which led that way, where,
under sanction of Dr. Murray, she visited with his sister
the village schools, and the lowly habitations of the rural
hamlet.  In every house Matilda discovered traces of his
active benevolence. There the desponding had been encouraged, the doubting were confirmed, the sick received
the comfort of his conversation, the poor enjoyed the benefit
of his purse, and the dying found the support of his prayers.
Dr. Murray frequently inculcated a favorite opinion on all
over whom he had any influence, that every earthly blessing is to be preserved only by active and vigorous exertion,
Health, knowledge, usefulness, reputation, power, and wealth,
must generally be earned throughout an incessant course of
unswerving self-denial, or they can seldom  be permanently




OR THE.1MARCH OF INTELLECT.            13
enjoyed; and his own mind seemed in a continual state of
energetic exercise.  He possessed invincible courage, resolution, and perseverance, which were never allowed to be
dormant; for indolence was, in his estimation, next to actual
sin, the greatest of all enemies to human happiness. Whether
in reading, in conversing, or in solitary meditation, Dr. Murray held it a sacred duty to redeem the time by keeping his
intellect at the full stretch of its powers; and even his sleep
wvas not the slumber of indolence, but the deep repose of a
mind and frame exhausted by active labor and intense application.  On all occasions he remembered the words of
Scriptrure, —" If any man refuse to labor, neither shall he
eat." and the example of Christ, who toiled in the vocation
of Joseph, taught to others the duty of working according to
our own station and ability. His personal exertions, however, were limited to Gaelfield parish, for Dr. Murray never
itinerated throughout the country at the expense of charitable institutions for which a subscription was to be collected.
He feared lest the language of Scripture should ever. become
applicable to himself, —:" Mine own vineyard have I not
kept!" and knowing that his utmost efforts could not adequately fulfil the sphere of professional duty, while every
hour passed elsewhere must leave it neglected, he confined
his eloquence entirely to the platform of his own pulpit.
/Dr. Murray did not keep a diary " for the benefit of his
family," or for any other pretext on which those secret things
which belong only to the Lord are laid open to public view.
lie considered that it was introducing a snare into his own
most private hours of devotion if a loop-hole were thus to be
opened, through which the whole world might hereafter witness, as it were, the trials, the sorrows, and the joys of his
Christian course.  These were abundantly obvious in the
deep experience with which he represented to his own people
the struggles, the fears, and the hopes which are peculiar to
every man who would estrange his affections from a present
world, and fix them unreservedly on Him for whom we must
be ready to sacrifice every earthly tie.  Dr. Murray registered no wondering exclamations at the crowds who attended
his preaching; the multitude of converts who were made by
one so unworthy as himself; the extraordinary usefulness
of books which he had written without a hope of their ever
being read; the meekness with which he had borne the
6C malignity, baseness, and outrageous violence" of clergymen whose opinions differed from his own, and the surpris4




t4                  MODEEP.N SOCiiET~r
ing respect and veneration with which he was occasionally
treated.
Others might speak of his virtues or his faults, but on
these subjects Dr. Murray's own pen was silent.  There are
hours between man and his Creator which the dearest friend
must not witness, for they are " hid with Christ in God."
There are secret recesses in every heart, which none but an
omniscient God can know; for, like the visions revealed to
the Apostle, they are not for earthly utterance.  There is a
separated existence led by Christians in their own closets
which should only be registered in Heaven, and only known
on that day when all hearts shall be laid open.  Self-love
glimmers through many a printed confession of extreme
sinfulness, but Dr. lM~urray's heartfelt sorrow for his own
offences daily spoke in the language of prayer and humiliation to his God. The duty of self-examination was so faithfully and impartially performed, that he became conscious
of many sins and many professional deficiencies; but not
upon paper were they acknowledged or lamented, because he
knew what it was for Christians to be vain of their humility,
and had observed the perverted love of celebrity in men who
would rather write of their faults than not write of themselves at all.  It was by a constant, careful study of his own
heart that Dr. itiurray acquired a facility in reading the inmost depths of other minds.  He became aware that no
man writes down his thoughts and actions for himself alone.
Ie saw, in various instances, how they became tinged with' a
coloring of exaggeration or partiality when recorded for the
benefit of friends or strangers, and he felt that his sacred
duty to his own soul would be best performed by living from
day to day in the exercise of faith, repentance, and obedience.  To his Great Master he frequently and solemnly
committed the hope and the desire of his heart, that while
his own mind was purified and taught by the Holy Spirit, he
might also gain an increasing influence over those among
whom he was appointed to minister; and in Dr. Murray's
sympathy and commiseration for others, it frequently happened that the feeling which he showed for their sins and
temptations was the first thing that made them  feel for
themselves.
To Matilda it soon appeared as if every step which carried her away from Barnard Castle served to lighten her of
a care or a vexation, and her spirits rose with the buoyancy
of former days whenever she lost sight of its gloomy mag



OR TIuE 1%I RCH OF INTELLECT~.         t
nificence, and found shelter in the cheerful parlor of Miss
Murray, where she was sure that her society would be
prized and that her welcome would be cordial and sincere;
for there never existed a heart more open and perfectly unsophisticated than that of her newly-acquired friend, who
treated her with almost motherly kindness from  the first
hour of their acquaintance.  Miss Murray appeared some
years older than her brother; but increasing age had not
yet diminished her activity in doing good, nor the cheerfulness of her disposition, while she steadily pursued the even
tenor of her course, knowing nothing of the politics, the
fashions, or the ways of a present world.  She was far from
clever, and it was a frequent evidence of Dr. Murray's
Christian kindness to observe the patient attention with
which he listened to all she said; the forbearance he exercised in enduring her very flagrant mistakes, and the unwearied pains he took to enlighten her understanding with
those profound doctrines of our holy faith which were ever
nearest to his own heart.
Miss Murray's creed was simple in the extreme, yet it
influenced her whole conduct, and directed all she said.
Though unable, like many more showy Christians, to talk
fluently, she acted on all occasions with invariable consistency. She could not give a theoretical summary of religious
duty, but she was a living model of its practice.  She
would have failed in sketching a systematic outline of doctrine, but she existed in the exercise of prayer, and of that
charity which thinketh no evil, while, with the Scriptures
almost constantly in her hand, she continually either studied
its pages, or meditated in her own simple way on its contents.  Miss Murray had from the very first deliberately
and cheerfully made up her mind to incur the odium of reinaining an old maid; for though her manners, which were
simple and pleasing, attracted an unusual portion of goodwill in society, her appearance was unprepossessing, and
she anticipated no probability of exciting a permanent interest in any one to whom her happiness could have been
safely confided.
The conclusions of her own good sense had been hastened,
however, by a family circumstance, so tragical in itself, that
the lesson of experience and caution which it gave seemed
to have been burnt into her mind with indelible characters.
She had once possessed an elder sister, in whom her heart
delighted, and who was adorned. with every attractive quality




16                lMODERN SOCIETY,
in which she felt conscious of being herself deficient. Returning home one day, after an absence of several weeks,
she flew, as was her custom: to Jane's room, and entered
it unnoticed. There she was startled and shocked to observe her usually gay and animated companion immoveably
seated in the corner of a distant sofa, with pallid cheek and
quivering lip, while her eyes were fastened on a visiting card
in her hand, which she seemed unable to cease contemplating. It might have appeared to a mere observer as if,
in that small object, there could be little to raise intense
emotion, for it contained no more than the words-" Mr.
Andrew Falconar, P. P. C.;" yet these few solitary letters
were the source of deep and heart-breaking sorrow. They
spoke of years which had been passed in deceitful hope.
They told of confidence misplaced, and they were a memorial of former pleasures, never more to be remembered without the anguish of blighted affection. Among many admirers Jane distinguished only one, whose incessant attentions and devoted anxiety to please seemed to her young
and confiding heart a sufficient proof of sincerity, though no
explicit declaration of attachment had pledged his honor.
His professional emoluments were scarcely sufficient for
competence, and he depended for wealth on the whim of a
rich and aged aunt, whose tyranny and caprice sufficiently
accounted, in Jane's estimation, for delay. Meantime every
hour and every day bore witness to Mr. Falconar's assiduities-he was the companion of her walks-her escort at
every party-he listened with intense interest to her conversation-turned over the leaves of music when she played,
and sent her bouquets of flowers from his garden-whatever
she read he read himself and when she visited their mutual
friends in the country, he followed her there with undiminished attention.  Many years had thus passed away-the
whole lifetime of her youth-and not a doubt ever occurred
to Jane's mind of his attachment; when, on the previous
week, he carelessly and accidentally mentioned to her
brother that in a few days he was to be married. The
card which he left that morning remained for hours in her
hand. It was all that now remained to her of one who had
occupied so long a period of her thoughts and affections.
Could she have read there all that she desired to know,
Jane would have asked whether any sentiment of shame, remorse, or regret visited his heart when he left it.  Could
thc have ascertained whether he ever loved her as she had




OR THE MARCeH OF INTELLECT.            7t
so much reason to believe, she might have been soothed by
the assurance; or if, on the contrary, her existence had been
wasted for one who desired only selfish gratification, then
she might have been supported by indignation; but what
had led him to prefer another she never now could know,
for, without warning or explanation, the stroke had come
silently and suddenly as death itself.
Jane Murray had what is called spirit.  She speedily
roused herself up to meet the occasion; called on Mr. Falconar's mother when the wedding was over, congratulated his
sisters, talked of the event with her usual vivacity in every
company, and apparently smiled and laughed as she had done
before; but the Inverness Journal, which " advertized" the
-" marriage in high life" of Mr. Andrew Falconar, contained,
not many months afterwards, an announcement which few
would have supposed to bear any connection with so brilliant
an event-the death of Jane Murray.  From  this time her
deeply-afflicted sister, being anxious at once to establish her
own mind in a state of peaceful tranquillity, gratefully acknowledged the advantage of having a brother remaining to
whom all her confidence and affection might be devoted, and
carefully extinguished from her mind, at the early age when
this occured, all that anxiety and uncertainty which must
ever attend on those who long continue to contemplate the
probability of changing their situation in the world. Miss
Murray considered that the game of life was played for a
higher stake by those who married, than by those who did
not, as the capability of happiness, or of misery, is unspeakably increased by entering on such near and sacred ties; but
she looked upon it as almost impossible to preserve, in that
situation, the calm  tone of feeling which is peculiar to a
single life, and which is so favorable to the cultivation of
piety, though it requires a more than common share of good
sense and good feeling to render it either happy or respected.
The longer Matilda knew  Miss Murray, the more she
esteemed her amiable qualities, though the deficiency of her
mental powers became perceptible in proportion as their
intercourse increased; and occasionally the contrast forced
itself upon her thoughts, between Eleanor, who was all talent
without good feeling, and Miss Murray, who abounded in
good feeling without a glimmering of talent. In the world's
estimation, how infinitely superior was Eleanor Fitz-Patrick-;
but in the eye of an all-seeing God, whose thoughts are not
as our thoughts, the heart alone shall be judged, and the




1l8                 MODERN SOCIETY,
gentle, unsophisticated disposition of Miss Murray far outweighed more brilliant gifts; for truly and sadly has the
poet declared, that
"Not many wise, rich, noble, or profound,
Shall gain one inch of Heavenly ground."
"Matilda! I must really take a lionizing peep at your
Miss Murray, for she seems to be quite a phoenix!" said
Eleanor, one morning at breakfast, after her cousin bad
been describing, with an eloquence peculiarly her own, the
good which was done in Gaelfield by Dr. Murray and his
sister. "It is always desirable to see perfection in men,
women, or animals."
" I do not promise you that on the present occasion," replied Matilda; " I neither think any of my friends perfect,
nor wish others to believe them  so.  Even Dr. Murray,
much as we must admire him, is merely human, after all, and
would be the first to acknowledge that his sins and infirmities are numerous every day. He observed to me lately
that there is scarcely one of the Patriarchs mentioned in
Scripture whose faults and offences are not recorded there to
show the frailty and corruption which are inseparable from
our nature while we continue upon earth; and that the
surest proof of divine grace being implanted in the heart of
man, is when that struggle commences between good and
evil, which is painfully experienced by every Christian, for,
as evil continually exists within us, it can only be by quenching the good Spirit that people are enabled to say' Peace to
their awakened consciences.' Dr. Murray's being continually sensible of sin, renders him compassionate to the trials
and temptations of others, for he is not one of those who
can be humble before God and proud before men; therefore
all his people go to him with the most entire confidence, and
impart to him their thoughts and feelings. An hour every
day is devoted to receiving any of his parishoners who wish
to claim advice or assistance; and his invitation is without
limit, whether to the evil or the good; for his sympathy
extends to all without exception.  He keeps a register of
every family under his care, with an account of their numbers, their habits, their wants, and their religious state, so
that each individual in the humblest hovel is personally
known to him; and I often, in my own mind, compare
Dr. Murray to a monarch benevolently reigning in the hearts
and in the homes 6f his people.'




OR THE MARCHO OF INTELLECT.             79
"C We shall certainly attend one of his levees," interrupted
Eleanor, laughingly directing Miss Marabout's attention to
3Matilda's countenance, which sparkled with animation. "I
have always thought that nature or fortune will make a
great mistake if you are not hereafter a parson's wife.
You would mend and make the family linen, prepare medicines and cheap broth for the poor; and if the good man
was not particularly bright, you could even compose his
sermons.  Dr. Murray is unluckily father too old, or he
would have suited admirably. By the way, he was tutor to
Sir Alfred Douglas's father, which is an additional inducement to render his acquaintance desirable, though I scarcely
know why that should signify, either."  Eleanor colored, and
rapidly continued her sentence.  " N1''importe! we cannot
live another day without visiting Gaelfield,-can we, Miss
Marabout "'
" Certainly not," replied her companion in a very indifferent tone.
"' Well, then! to please Mbiss Marabout, who seems really
bent upon going, I shall drive her there in the pony carriage
after luncheon, and meet you, Matilda; for, of course, some
charity appointment will cause you to precede us by an hour
or two in the village, where your face is better known already
than the Saracen's Head. Poor Miss Murray! it is a wonder
that we did not go sooner to enjoy the diversion of drawing
her out, as she will be quite a study for me. I nearly died of
laughing once at an anecdote of your friend's simplicity, for
it was so perfectly ridiculous.  Lord De Mainbury was out
with the hounds, and after a capital run, they were completely at fault, when he suddenly observed Miss Murray
tying up a Portugal laurel in the garden.' Was it this way
that the fox passed?' he eagerly inquired.'Yes!' she replied,'near that slap in the wall to your right hand.'-' How long
since'7 inquired Lord De Mainbury, impatiently reining in
his horse.' Just fifteen years ago next November!' replied
she, deliberately.   I remember it perfectly, for he carried
off our Turkey cock.' It is alleged that Lord De Mainbury's rage at her stupidity exceeded all bounds, and that he
gets into a fury yet whenever the story is mentioned."




80                  EMODERN SOCIoEr
CHAPTER VIII.
A primrose b-r the river's brim
A yellow prirxrose was to him,
And it was nothing'more.
WORD SWORTH.
OF all the different aspects which insolent pride can as
sume, there is none half so oppressive to the object of it as
voluble condescension, which was the form in which Eleanor
occasionally delighted to assert her own importance among
those whom she considered her inferiors.  She entered the
room at Gaelfield with an air of overpowering patronage,
and with a torrent of words which completely bewildered
Miss Murray's small portion of wit or understanding, while
she ran on with a stream of apologies for not having called
sooner and been a more sociable neighbor. Something of
what she said appeared to be serious and polite, but the rest
was so entirely jocular, that her simple hostess, who could
scarcely discriminate between the one and the other, stole
an occasional look at Matilda, with an anxioau inquiring expression, which seemed to ask, " Is your cousin laughing at
me or not?"
Miss Fitz-Patrick complimented her on all the good that
was done in the parish, which seemed really to have gratified
and surprised her; but she elicited some jests at the same
time upon Matilda having been appointed "assistant and
successor." She admired the garden in extravagant terms,
though there was scarcely a leaf remaining in it, and professed to think her own not nearly in such good order, while
six gardeners were employed continually to dress it. She
fell into raptures with Miss Murray's ancient Bible, and
begged it might be left to her in a legacy.  She examined
some scripture prints which were suspended on the wall, and
after making several ridiculous blunders in guessing the
subjects they represented, she turned to inspect Miss Murray's bonnet, and professed an intention to order one immediately on the same pattern. A sly look which she stole




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.             81
towards Miss Marabout in saying this, betrayed to Matilda
how little any degree of simplicity or goodness could serve
as a shield from her cousin's satirical propensities, who now
proceeded to a critical dissertation on Miss Murray's knitting. "' You must positively show me all the mysteries of
this business, for I intend to reach a great old age, and knitting will be a valuable resource; but it requires more genius
than one would suppose to accomplish it in perfection, for
they tell me that any one who can turn the heel of a stocking is fit to govern a kingdom. Mine must be worked without heels, and people may draw them on the best way they
can. I am convinced that no lady is ever thoroughly domestic who does not excel in some sort of work; and half our
gadding about now is because we are all so intellectual, and
would sooner think of lifting Cleopatra's Needle than our
own.  What a delightful, airy little sitting-room this is! [I
protest the bright yellow curtains, and the profusion of gilt
frames, lighted up with that blazing fire and glowing sunshine, look altogether so gay, that it would be impossible for
you ever to feel melancholy here. Such a collection of prints
and pictures reminds me of the Louvre!-have you a catalogue?-I must come and spend an hour or two some day in
studying them all. As for this pea-green carpet with white
flowers, you must excuse me, Miss Murray, I cannot help
laughing, it is so like a dish of eggs and spinach, but nothing
can look better. I guess you never see a room anywhere so
much to your taste as this? It certainly is quite perfect in
its way.'"
" Very true," answered Miss Murray, with a look of placid
contentment; "nothing could improve it now, since we got
home the new book-cases."
" They are very handsome, indeed! I would give a fortune
to transport this room by steam, or any how, to Barnard
Castle."
" It would be cheap at any price, if you could purchase
such feelings as are often experienced within these walls,"
observed Matilda.  "They are what poets might fail to
describe, and Christians only can know."
" Ah! here is a stray number of the Penny Magazine i"
exclaimed Eleanor, in pretended rapture; "how very entertaining it seems! Could you lend it to me, for a single day,
Miss Murray?  Now don't be afraid to trust me, for it shall
be honestly returned-I am a careful creature when you put
me upon honor."
4*




8 2                MODERN SOCIETY
Eleanor seemed really enchanted with her own powers of
volubility, and ran on for some time without the possibility
of interruption, while Miss Murray listened and smiled in a
state of helpless surprise. She had never been so perplexed
in her life how to reply, but she was spared the difficulty of
doing so, as not a crevice occurred for some time into which
she could insert one single word, until her lively guest at
length paused for a moment to take breath, and then Miss
Murray instantly commenced the usual routine of what she
called conversation.
"' I hope Sir Richard is pretty well this morning?'" was
the opening question, in-'her usual placid, gentle manner.
4" He had a cold on Thursday fortnight, but I forget
whether it was better or worse to-day. Now, Miss Murray,
you are just the sort of person who could furnish me with an
infallible cure,-shall it be a gallon of gruel, or a bushel of
lozenges i?"
Like every one else, the good old lady was of course provided with a receipt, which she instantly prescribed, to Eleanor's secret diversion, who professed unbounded faith in the
mixture of acids, sweets, and bitters, which were urgently
recommended.
" Do you continue to have good accounts of Miss Barbara
Neville?" continued Miss Murray; "I had the pleasure of
knowing her formerly."
1" That must have been a plecbsure indeed  She was unluckily bit by one of Lady Susan Danvers' lap-dogs before
leaving Edinburgh, and whether she died of hydrophobia
afterwards or not we never heard; but I recommended that
the piece should be kept to see if it foamed. Have I any
more relations to be inquired for?" added Eleanor in a
whisper to Miss Marabout.
1" Are Sir Francis and Lady Howard continuing quite
vwell " pursued Miss Murray, with indefatigable perseverance.
" Not quite!" replied the heiress concealing a laugh.
"My aunt has a slight attack of nervousness, and Sir Francis
is extremely ill of-of rheumatism in his elbow, or gout in
his little finger, it is not certain which."
" You must have made a mistake, Eleanor," said Matilda,
gravely; "my father writes to me continually in the most
perfect health and spirits.  He has not missed going to
cover a single morning this season, and often wishes there
were ten hunting days in the week."




OR THE,IARClI OF INTELLECT.         a6
"What a keen sportsman he must be!" observed Miss
Murray.  "But those who like hunting are very fond
of it."
" So they are!" exclaimed Eleanor, rising; "and those
who like me are very fond of me, too; so I hope Miss Murray
is of the number, for I am quite delighted with you-I like
you amazingly. Our visit has been really a treat, and I am
quite sorry that we must tear ourselves away now, though I
shall often return for a comfortable chat, and to tell you how
all my friends are."
" Stop a moment! —you are not going!" cried Miss
Murray, whose hospitable feelings were all on fire at the
prospect of any one escaping from her house, without tasting
refreshment; "let me bring you some ginger-wine."
"Not for worlds! —I beg you will not think of it!" said
Eleanor, turning with a clandestine grimace of disgust to
Miss Marabout; "I-I am forbid bythe doctors to taste
wine-we all belong to the Temperance Society."
"Ah! young people never like to give trouble," said Miss
Murray, diving into the depths of an enormous pocket, from
whence she produced her large bunch of keys, and, hastening
to a small dark cupboard, she drew forth a plate, filled with
hard, massy gingerbread nuts, which looked like fragments
of brick, and having placed beside them a decanter halffilled with wine, she hurried out of the room to send her
maid up with glasses, and her departure was speedily followed by the distant explosion of a cork.
"No wonder you steal down here continually, Matilda;
when there are such luxuries going," said Eleanor, contemptuously examining the gingerbread nuts. One would require a fresh relay of teeth every day to enjoy these properly.
They were certainly barked last Thursday fortnight, when
papa caught the cold I bestowed on him to-day-it is a pleasure to get my laugh out! You need not look grave, Matilda, for Miss Murray is really the best of human beings.
But did ever any mortal try to pass off such truisms for good
sense as your friend does. She would tell me that' sober
servants are better than drunken ones!' that' nothing is so
rural as the country!' and that' it is more agreeable to have
too much money than too little!' how is it possible to endure
such prosing?"
" I can dispense with a great deal, where there is kind
feeling to compensate for all deficiencies," replied Matilda.' Wit and originality are good things in their way. but not




84                 MODERN SOCIETY,
deserving of the precedence they often get in our estimation,
and it is always a safe plan to be easily satisfied. I have
generally tried to lower my standard of what is indispensable for enjoyment or comfort, because if we encourage fastidiousness in conversation, in reading, in music, or even in
eating, we shall so much the seldomer be satisfied.  You
would starve, where I would be in the midst of plenty; and
at this moment I could make a very tolerable luncheon on
these ancient-looking gingerbread nuts."
" How delicious they are!" exclaimed Eleanor, slyly
taking one up as Miss Murray re-entered the room, and pretending to eat, while she hastily concealed it in her bag;
"Pray give me the receipt for making these-I never saw
anything like them before, so they must be home-made.
We shall cause quite a famine in the house," continued
she, unwillingly accepting Miss Murray's repeated offer of
more, and dropping them privately into her reticule; "you
will think me a greater eater than Dando, the oyster-stealer,
of whom honorable mention is so frequently made in the
Morning Post."
" I never read newspapers, for fear of seeing something in
them that is not true."
" What a prudent plan!-You are quite right, for truth
lies at the bottom of a well, and is least of all to be found
in newspapers. Good-bye for the present; but we are like
a pair of scissors, parted to meet again, as I shall long to
return here and to taste your gingerbread nuts another
time."
"4 Perhaps you will allow me to send a few to Barnard
Castle this evening, and also a pair of the stockings you admired so much of my own knitting?"
" Ten thousand thanks i that is precisely what I wished,
so pray do 1" exclaimed Eleanor, in a tone of rapturous gratitude; then turning to Miss Marabout when they were beyond
the possibility of being overheard, she added, " Only fancy!
my foot would look like an elephant's!-and the gingerbread
nuts! who would have believed that good worthy Miss Murray was gifted with so much less than common sense? but
her presents and her truisms are both inimitable.'The
French are mostly born in France! Those who spend all
their money can't expect to grow rich; and health is a great
blessing!'"
" Eleanor! she has done her utmost to entertain and to
oblige you; but nothing makes me value Miss Murray's




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.               85
kindness more than to know, as I do, that if we were friend
less outcasts, without any one on earth to care for us, her
kind offices would be as ready, and her feelings as cordial
as they are now."
"Well! well! you are right, and I, of course, am wrong;
so a truce to lecturing!-On sera?ridicule, ct je n'os'erai rite!
Surely we are out of the Ashgrove trammels now!I'
" Eleanor!" said Matilda, in a tone of indignant surprise; but she could add no more, for words seemed inadequate to express what she felt at so irreverent an allusion to
Lady Olivia's memory; and the cousins proceeded home in
unbroken silence, together.
From  this time it became a favorite amusement with
Eleanor to visit at Gaelfield, where she delighted to flatter
and frighten the single-hearted Miss Murray, who tried to
believe the intention was kind, though she could seldom
follow the volubility of her visitor, and never on any occasion knew for certain whether she spoke in jest or in earnest; whether the heiress had been sincerely charmed, as
she professed to be, with her society, or whether she was
turning her into ridicule, and making a burlesque, as she actually did, of the whole conversation. In talking to Eleanor, Miss Murray felt the sort of apprehensive interest with
which a school-boy ventures on ice which is not warranted
to be safe, and which, though it affords amusement for the
time. may plunge him suddenly and helplessly beneath its
shining surface. The overpowering profession of deference
with which it was Miss Fitz-Patrick's whim  to treat her
plain and unsophisticated hostess, put Miss Murray completely to the blush: and the easy familiarity with which
she occasionally domesticated herself in the little parlor,
caused the good old lady to blame herself on account of the
constraint and distrust she unavoidably felt whenever her
lively visitor entered.  With Matilda, Miss Murray felt
confident that she might have gone to the Palace of Truth,
and not heard a single transformation in all that she said;
but a lurking smile in Eleanor's eye, and the tone of gay
superiority she assumed, even when her words were full of
humility, betrayed to her very unsuspicious companion the
total want of sincerity and good faith which pervaded all she
said. Dr. Murray's presence acted for a time occasionally
as some restraint upon her exuberant self-importance, for
his address had all the dignity of high intellect, and his
look was so penetrating that he evidently saw through all




86                 MODERN SOCIETY,
her vanity and frivolity of character, feeling a degree of
pity which, in any one less imbued with Christian charity,
would have nearly amounted to contempt. It is rare in
society when the distinctions of this world are not para —
mount to everything; but in Dr. Murray's estimation shs
felt conscious that they only ranked in proportion as they
were used to promote the glory of God and the good of
others,-objects which the young heiress could not but acknowledge to herself were the very last which occupied her
income, or created any solicitude in her thoughts.  Neither
Miss Murray nor her brother knew anything relating to
Eleanor's disposition from  Matilda's report, for she considered the confidence of domestic life so sacred, that not
even a sigh or a disparaging shake of the head ever betrayed how fallacious she knew their hopes to be, when, in
arranging plans for improving the parish, they occasionally
reckoned upon assistance and encouragement from Barnard
Castle.
Dr. Murray at length, one day, shortly stated some projects which it was thought might be advantageous to her
indigent tenantry, and seemed confidently to anticipate the
pleasure which it must give Miss Fitz-Patrick to be the
means of benefiting them; but though she heard him with
that respectful interest which his manner invariably excited,
Eleanor now, for the first time in her life, seemed to recollect that she had guardians, and thought it necessary to consult them, though with a professed intention to entreat their
co-operation in the " wise and judicious suggestions" which
Dr. Murray was good enough to make. When a subject of
conversation became particularly inconvenient, Miss FitzPatrick generally endeavored to change it, by pouring out
a perfect hail-storm of words, which prevented any one from
edging in a single sentence without being guilty of absolute
rudeness; she therefore, on the present occasion, did so,
while her auditor listened in grave astonishment to the
consequential tone in which she ran on with a medley of subjects and ideas, as miscellaneous and piquant as the castors
of a cruet.
"Dr. Murray! you must certainly have swallowed a concordance some day, for I never before heard so many texts
quoted in support of an argument  and you make me quite
ashamed of having so long remained like a Limerick merchant,' busy doing nothing.' With respect to our church
accommodation, I wish it could be made elastic, like a patent




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.             8I
portmanteau; I perfectly agree in all you ai e going to say!
Both Scripture and common humanity make it necessary to
be considerate for others, and at the same time more mischief may be perpetrated by attempting injudicious charity
than by doing nothing at all, so it is fortunate for me that 1
have such an experienced philanthropist to consult. Pray
visit us often, for we shall always feel it an honor. To use
expressions common in the General Assembly, never'moderate your calls' at Barnard Castle, where they shall all be'harmonious' and if ever you wish to'hold a diet,' let that
be at six o'clock, when I only hope your dinner will be as
hearty as your welcome.  We have been threatening Miss
Murray to drop in, and take pot-luck with her soon.  She
may supply the pot, and I shall bring the luck.  Your sister
is not very encouraging upon the subject; and I am really
quite shocked at her want of hospitality, for we are all very
plain people in every sense. I wish papa was the same, for
my spirits always sink as the dinner hour approaches, he is
so sure to find fault, though there are three courses every
day, dressed by a man-cook, who was skilful enough to satisfy the French Ambassador. At the same time, whoever
wishes to gain a point with him should come at feeding-time,
for he would rather give away an estate than be interrupted.
You have probably heard that an Ogre once married into
our family in Ireland; so we have all been great eaters ever
since. A shoulder of mutton is scarcely a mouthful to papa,
and Monsieur Martigny drove the whole poultry-yard into
a chicken-pie when we came here for breakfast one morning.
There never was anything like the consumption of provisions
in our house at present, for I have three-and-twenty servants, which you will allow to be a tolerable establishment,
and  -"
4" A very numerous circle, indeed!" interrupted Dr. Murray, apparently determined to be heard.  "With so many
immortal souls, for whose eternal interest you, as their head,
must be in some degree answerable, I trust that the good old
custom of assembling together daily for family prayers is
not discontinued?"
" Why!-all in good time! I am not sure that papa
would consent," replied Eleanor, who had suddenly become
very considerate of Sir Richard's inclinations.
"]Did you ever ask him2?" inquired Dr. Murray, anxiously.
"No!" stammered Eleanor, somewhat confused.  "T'here




MODERN SOCIETY,
are many impediments, but —--- In short, you know Rome
was not built in a day, but we shall, perhaps, come to be all
you wish at last. I am not one who can profess a great deal
more than I feel," added she, fixing a malicious look on Matilda.  "Whatever I do, or whatever I am, shall be without
affectation or hypocrisy; for it would be well if every one
were known as they are, and not as they seen. Tares often
pass for wheat, Dr. Murray, merely by mixing with them;
and those who are nearly canonized in this world will find it
not so easy to stand the scrutiny of another. We may
speak well, and live but indifferently here, without being
known, but that will not do hereafter; and I would not for
worlds appear more religious than I really am. Some people
can talk by the hour in a- serious way, but it all evaporates
in words; and though they can speak volumes about the virtuousness of virtue, and use all the mere jargon of religion,
they forget to live according to its precepts."
Eleanor had recently adopted a plan, in Matilda's presence, of inveighing against any particular fault which occurred
to her fancy at the moment, until every one in the room
must imagine that her cousin was addicted to the practice,
though it invariably proved to be something of which she
felt totally incapable. On several occasions already she had
harangued on the contemptibleness of exaggeration, ill-temper, pride, hypocrisy, and even flattery, pointing the whole
so evidently at Matilda, that no stranger could doubt she
was guilty of those errors; while, at the same time, the expressions were thoroughly guarded, that her cousin might
neither openly take the accusation to herself, nor in any way
disprove it.  The color mounted to Matilda's forehead from
astonishment and confusion at these implied accusations,
which being totally vague and unfounded, no pretext occurred for noticing; while even the excellent Dr. Murray
looked at her with momentary distrust, though that feeling
was instantly dispelled when, with an eye accustomed to
discriminate, he marked the ingenuous surprise that animated
her countenance, exhibiting abundant evidence that her
conscience was at peace though her feelings were obviously
hurt.
" As for acting up to our standard in religion, no Christian can ever entirely succeed, for it ought to be nothing
short of perfection," said Dr. Murray.  4'We must toil up
a steep ascent, seeking the grace of God to help us, while
Alps on Alps arise; and none may ever pause to say that




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.              89
his own attainments are sufficient. Yet, in estimating the
professions and conduct of others, we should judge as leniently as we hope to be judged ourselves; for, though it is
easy to tell what Christianity has not yet done in sanctify
ing the characters of others, who can venture to estimate
what it has done to improve them? It may have softened
the temper that was originally violent, strengthened the
principles that were unusually weak, or enlarged the benevolence which would have otherwise been extinguished by
avarice; and yet the fruit may not be ripened into perfection, for if Christians could become allin this life that they
ought to become, and all that they desire to be, we should
certainly love them too well. There is one respect, however, Miss.Fitz-Patrick, in which I have occasionally traced
a great attainment in Christian forbearance," added Dr.
Murray, kindly turning towards Matilda-" If, when ye do
well and suffer for it, ye take it patiently, this is acceptable
to God."
Few people in the world really and conscientiously desire
to scatter as much happiness around them as possible, and
few would afford a very large proportion of it to friends and
neighbors, even if that could be done without diminishing
their own share of enjoyment.  It was singular that, as
Eleanor's self-importance increased, so did her malicious and
even envious feelings towards her cousin, whom it was her
continual study to wound at coups d'epingles; and had it not
been for the most peremptory letter from Lady Howard, desiring her daughter on no account to think of leaving Barnard Castle before Christmas, Matilda would have felt it a
duty towards herself to take the earliest opportunity of returning home.  Her affection could not be entirely alienated
from  Eleanor by any circumstances; but, with every imaginable palliation, her cousin's conduct seemed inexcusable,
and she often exercised a painful degree of Christian meekness in not angrily resenting the wilful slights that were
shown her, of which she sometimes thought it right openly
to testify her consciousness; yet occasionally it was impossible to help smiling at the arrogance and self-sufficiency of
the heiress's tone, for Matilda had a keen sense of the ridiculous, which was only restrained upon principle and right
feeling.  A favorite subject of miscellaneous declamation
with Miss Fitz-Patrick was, on the necessity for every person being "' kept in his place," because on many occasions
she felt irritated and piqued, when Matilda met with the




~10                 MODERN SOCIETY,
same respect on her own account that she herself did, with
all the adventitious aids of fortune and property.
" There is no such word now as subordination," she often
remarked.  "in families, in politics, in religion, that is quite
at an end, and all ranks and ages seem on a level.  Children
are asked their opinions as soon as they can speak, consulted
about their own education, and allowed to decide upon the
relative advantages of schools and professions as if they
really had the power of comparing them.  They are taken
about to visit in country houses, too, in such numbers, that
I shall have a nursery of about nine here during Christmas,
each of whom is a little wonder, fit to associate with grown-up
people.  In polities, constituents dictate to their representatives; and in religion, the members of a congregation actually lecture their pastors. I wonder what it will all come to
at last! For my own part, I have a certain station to keep
up, and it becomes a duty to myself and my contemporaries,
to preserve the dignity of it.  In all situations, I consider
those who hold them as being answerable to their successors
for handing them  down unimpaired; and the proprietor of
an extensive property, like mine, cannot yield an atom of the
patronage and influenlce it confers, without injuring every
other inheritor of estates.  Even Pauline owes a duty to all
other ladies' maids, and must uphold the privileges and prerogatives of her ofice, not mierely for her own sake individually, but for the benefit of Abigails in general; and I perfectly approve of her feud with Nanny about keeping the
custody of my trinkets.  I am no politician, Matilda; but
you may depend upon it that half the democracy in this
country arises from great men not submitting to the trammels of greatness as they used to do.  Every pleasure on
earth has to be paid for by some drawback, and it must have
been a bore to the grandees of long ago that they never
stirred without carrirges and six, surrounded with a retinue
of servants; but to vulgar eyes how imposing that must have
been, and now, what obvious difference is visible between
gentlemen of.various ranks embarking in a steam-boat, except that; perhaps, one may be followed by two carpet-bags,
and be attended by a servant.? All are dressed in blue
coats, and all very sea-sick; but even a master of the ceremonies could scarcely distinguish between a duke and his
tailor-a field-mlarshal or the senior subaltern of a marching
regiment; so that travelling is like death itself now, for it
levels all distinctions.  Noblemen formerly used to dine out




OR THE MARCH 0_1 INTELLEC'T.            91
m  a blaze of orders and ribbons, but now their stars are
turned into comets, which only appear once in a century;
and since hoops have been abolished at court, it must seem
quite an every-day event to go there.  I am certain that it
was a great blow to the Church of England when the bishops
left off their wigs; and if the judges part with theirs it
would perfectly ruin the assizes.  Everything should be
done to keep up the distinction of ranks; and now, Matilda,
the moral of all I have said, including digressions, is to
show you that, when the various visitors who assemble here
next week are all collected, I shall pay them deference proportioned to their real importance, trusting that neither
Charlotte Clifford nor you will feel hurt or offended at being
mere pawns on the board, since I must play my part according to rule and etiquette, rather than inclination."
This pompous exordium was evidently meant to prepare
Matilda for very defective attention during the ensuing festivities; and, not being anxious to encounter more of Eleanor's caprice than could possibly be avoided, she took the
opportunity of announcing that Dr. and Miss Murray had
invited her to spend some days with them at Gaelfield, in
consequence of which she proposed going there and remaining until Christmas-day, when they had both consented, on
Eleanor's urgent entreaty, to pass a week at Barnard Castle, and would accompany her back.
" Can you be serious in proposing to miss' the gathering
of the clans?' "exclaimed Eleanor, with ill-disguised pleasure.  "Then, as Tilburina says to her lover-'And must we part.
Well! if we Ilust-we must:-and in that case
The less is said the better.'
There is no accounting for tastes, Matilda, but your choice
on the present occasion certainly seems outrageously odd.
I shall either come for you, however, on Tuesday morning,
or send the carriage, which is a great stretch of politeness
on my part, as I intend snaking a rule never to lend it, unless
when I go a drive myself."
It may generally be observed, that when people talk of
" making a rule," they invariably lay down some "rule" in
which no one's comfort is studied but their own.
During:the. few days which Matilda spent at Gaelfield she
felt more happy and at home than it had ever been possible
for her to do at Barnard Castle.  Days flitted rapidly by,




92                  MODERN SOfIETY,
while each as it closed left some agreeable recollection behind of useful occupation, or mental improvement, for her
time was passed in a manner which might have been considered as the fleeting representation of that pure and happy
state where " charity never faileth," and where prayer and
praise shall forever accompany active obedience.  Dr. Murray delighted to exercise his richly-illuminated mind in the
familiar discussion of important truths, scattering information and entertainment almost insensibly around, while his
only object, never for a moment overlooked, was to fulfil his
own high vocation towards the souls of others. His extensive knowledge of the world, his deep insight into human
nature, and his profound attainments in classical literature
and historical lore, were all subservient to that single aim;
and Matilda listened with unwearied interest and admiration to the sanctified use in conversation of such varied and
remarkable talents.  Sometimes a considerable degree of
vivacity enlivened what he said, but yet there was a gravity
of character, and a subdued tone of feeling, even in his
laughter, which testified the continual prevalence of seriousness and reflection suited to his profession, and to the sacred
duties it involved, which were continually present to his
thoughts.
Miss Murray's constant occupation was to replenish a
wardrobe of necessaries for the poor, which she frequently
distributed with unsparing  liberality, though sometimes
clandestinely, as her brother's opinion was strongly expressed
against any such indiscriminate charities as might, by possibility, paralyze exertion; and he often good-hurnoredly foretold that she would bring the whole parish on their hands to
be fed and clothed, since the donations she bestowed were
most frequently a premium on indolence and improvidence.
" It has been remarked," said he one day, after detecting
some of his sister's favorite proteges in a neighboring alehouse, " that in this mercantile country, whatever you cause
a demand for there will be an immediate supply; and if a
demand is raised for beggars, they will instantly abound. I
wish Dr. Chalmers' work on Civic Economy could be rained
down in thousands on the world, to show what true philanthropy means, for no science is more difficult than that
of doing real good.  One would be apt to imagine, my
dear sister, that if a kind well-meaning person, like yourself, had a large income to spend on charity, great benefits
must inevitably result; but that is not found to be a neces



OR THE MARCH OFN INTELLECT.            93
sary inference, and the more difficulty we discover in serving the poor, the more should we turn to the great source
of all wisdom, saying,'Who will show us any good?"  Above
all, never furnish crutches to those who can be made to walk
without them, for our prosperity depends on every individual
doing as much as possible for himself. All Scotland is
swarming now with hospitals, and I only hope that no shopkeeper who makes a fortune in Gaelfield will ever wish to
immortalize himself by building one here. Except to shelter idiots and incurables, the naimned or the blind, nothing
can be more pernicious, for they are mere hot-beds of indolence, vice, and discontent to young people; and if aged persons be the objects for which they are built, it is generally
but a cruel kindness, because those who would otherwise
have been carefully and affectionately attended at home are
thrust aside upon public charity, where outward comfort can
never compensate for the solitude of the heart."
1" Indeed I have often thought," said Matilda. " that some
of those poor old creatures, when conveyed from their little
quiet chimney corner to the large and lofty rooms in a hospital, must feel as strange and comfortless as the oyster did
in the lobster's shell.  How different from the cheerful, contented poverty of poor old Janet, whom we saw to-day! I
often think, Dr. Murray, how much pleasure you must have
in visiting the poor of this neighborhood."
" Ah, Miss Howard, but I have not many such cases of
sincere piety, and really picturesque contentment as that
good old woman and her exemplary daughter. There are
many anxieties and disappointments in the daily course of
my superintendence here-for you know a clergyman's life
must not be expected to consist in a smooth current of easy
duties. Luther has truly remarked, that it is prayer, and
sorrow, and temptation which makes a minister of the gospel,
and daily experience proves it to be the case."
"' I am aware of that now," replied Matilda, " and the labor
is so much greater than I had anticipated, that you will
scarcely find it possible to carry on all you do without being
soon entirely exhausted."
" No, Miss Howard! I would consider it quite as wrong to
be a spendthrift of my health as of my fortune. All we
have must be devoted to our Master's glory; but no more; for
He who has put limits to our possession of these blessings,
has set bounds to the use we shall make of them. You
blame the man who has reduced himself to poverty by un



94                  hIMODEIRN SOCIETY,
warrantable extravagance, but he who hurries himself to an
untimely grave by improvident exertion is also wrong. To
study our own situation, for the purpose of ascertaining the
fullest extent of our duties and opportunities, is the chief
testimony we can give to our conviction of Almighty wisdom
in their appointment."
"Yet I still think, as I have always done, that a country
clergyman's situation must be the happiest on earth, and my
visit here serves to confirm the opinion."
" Its pleasures are great indeed, but its sorrows are also
peculiar," replied Dr. Murray impressively.  "My own
career was begun with all the sanguine expectations of
youth, when in every plan of usefulness or improvement I
expected unqualified good. If I preached, every eye that
was fixed on mine seemed to hold out hopes of undoubted
conversion-every fear that was shed gave promise of permanent repentance-every expression of gratitude was supposed to be directly from the heart.  But we must not look
for our reward, Miss Howard, in immediate success, nor
must we be discouraged if it appear to be the divine will
that'one shall sow and another shall reap.'  His glory must
be our only object, an-I our highest hope to hear at last those
blessed words,' Well done, thou good and faithful servant.'
One great difficulty attends our labors, which may not have
occurred to you.  In seeking the good of a numerous congregation, we are apt to forget that the reflections which may
be useful to them are also necessary to be made on our own
account; that it would not be sufficient to build the ark for
others, unless we enter it ourselves, and that the teaching of
the Spirit is as essential to him who preaches as to those who
hear.  While reading, the hope of benefiting others is continually present, and even in studying the Scriptures, I have
to be watchful lest they appear to me only a fountain to refresh my people rather than a well of water springing up
unto eternal life for myself. We have to think for others,
to pray for others, to lament their sins, and to encourage
their repentance.  It is a labor I delight in, yet the apprehension is frequently occurring that I may be a mere
finger-post, directing my people without advancing myself,
or, in the words of St.' Paul,'lest while teaching others, I
myself may become a castaway.'"
Matilda saw at once, with astonishment, how patiently Dr.
Murray bore the frustration of plans and hopes from which
he had confidently anticipated much success, and sho ad



On THIE MAItCIIH OF INTELLECT,          95
mired the cheerfulness with which he instantly devised new
-projects of usefulness and benevolence.  In the expenditure
of an income which seemed ample in his own eyes, nothing
was grudged but what he spent upon himself; and worldly
ambition or personal luxury were so entirely unknown to
him, that his only desire for wealth was to bestow it liberally,
while whatever he gave was with a feeling that he had
spared from his abundance.  It was not how little might be
necessary on any occasion, but how much could be done, that
he endeavored to discover, and the single desire to fulfil his
vocation was inseparable from every action. Fame, wealth,
honor, and all that a wakensthe selfish ambition of worldly
men, seemed like dust in the balance, compared with the
one engrossing object of his own pursuit, while, 1" forgetting
the things that are behind, and reaching forward to those
that are before, he pressed forward to obtain the prize of his
high calling."
Everything in life comes to a speedy termination, and so
did Matilda's visit at Gaelfield, when, on the day appointed,
Eleanor's chariot and four swept up to the little white gate
leading through Dr. Iurraiy's garden, and a peremptory
message was delivered that Miss Fiitz-Patrick could not
wait a moment, as the horses were impatient, and she hoped
to see Miss Murray at dinner, which prevented her from.
thinking it necessary to alight; —therefore, with a hasty
glance of regret round the sunny little parlor, and bidding
a hurried adieu to her friends, Matilda proceeded to seat
herself in the carriage.
1" Now confess that you are delighted to make an escape
from that stuffy sitting-room, and poor Miss Murray's perpetnal truisms," exclaimed Eleanor, taking her cousin's hand
with some cordiality.  "She is the most flimsy weack-tea sort
of person I ever saw, and wearies me to death with her unalterable good-humor.  The very sound of her knitting
pins would drive me distracted, as well as the twaddle that
she calls conversation and mistakes for good sense. Black
is not so black, nor white so very white with her.  Shall I
ever forget being accidentally present one day when your
friend attempted a consolatory address to old Janet on the
recent death of her husband! Along with many religious
reflections, she produced a perfect flock of little aphorisms
which almost made me smile, if the occasion had not been
so serious.  It is better to lose a good husband than to be
afflicted with a bad one. What can't be cured must be ens




96                 MIODERN SOCIETY,
dured.  It is not so bad as if it had been worse. Every one
has his own burden,-and, none of us can expect constant
happiness.' She chattered on in this way till I was in a high
fever of impatience;  but, if you will believe me, Janet
dried up her tears and professed to feel very much comforted.'': I dare say, she did! The finest oration imaginable in
well-turned periods, delivered without that appearance of
sympathy, would not have had half the effect of Miss Murray's genuine, unaffected kindness.  The humblest means
are often used to produce the greatest ends, for there can
be no strength or power in anything we do, except through
the blessing of him who can bring strength out of weakness,
and binds in the mighty ocean with a rope of sand."
~ Very true," said Eleanor, seriously; " I must tease you
no more about the good old lady who reverses Charles the
Second, as she never says a wise thing, and probably never
does a foolish one.  But, now let me describe what an irreparable loss you have sustained by becoming an absentee
during the last few days.  Our party is diverting beyond
measure.  Colonel Pendarvis, Lord De Mainbury, and all
the hunting set are here.  Perhaps we may see some of
them pass, for the hounds are in this direction, which was
the real inducement that brought me to Gaelfield to-day.
Ah! there they are, in full cry, coming down Glowrowrum
Hill, and approaching us!  How very fortunate! many
people have hunted a whole season, and not seen more of
the fox than we shall do now."
In Eleanor's eagerness she completely forgot that her
young, unmanageable leaders were under the charge of a
little postilion, whose chief recommendation had been his
very diminutive size, while in strength he was evidently defective also.  When the dogs dashed past in full career, followed by a troop of sportsmen, the noise they made, and the
distant notes of the huntsman's bugle, startled her horses
and in a moment they became frightfully infuriated, Every
effort to check them was vain; for they kicked and plunged
with terrifying violence, while the boy, who had evidently
lost his presence of mind, lashed and swore with reckless
desperation.  Eleanor, in a voice of alarm, peremptorily desired him stop, but she might as easily have tried to make a
ship stand still in a storm.  She then hastily opened the
carriage door, with an evident intention to spring out, but
Matilda, who saw the imminent danger of doing so, forcibly




OR THE MAARCH  OF INTELLECT.            97
prevented it, though she trembled to see that the carriage,
which was now at full speed, approached towards a deep and
rugged precipice, where she had just time to observe the
sharp turn, over which they would probably be instantly
precipitated. At this moment a horseman suddenly galloped across the fields, sprung over a wall, dismounted in
less than a second, and seized the horses' heads with such
a powerful grasp, that they were instantly checked, though
the shock when they stopped was so sudden, that the postilion, who had already' been nearly dismounted, fell to the
ground.  Not a moment could be lost, for the horses nearly
kicked over the traces, and struggled so violently, it seemed
next to impossible they should be longer controlled, when
the gentleman, with a single bound, sprung into the vacant
saddle, and, after a desperate encounter of skill and strength,
he at length succeeded, by an exertion of masterly horsemanship, in subduing their spirit.  At Eleanor's almost
frantic entreaty, the traces were immediately cut and the
leaders set loose, when their deliverer proceeded with perfect nonchalence to imount his own hunter; and Matilda, for
the first time, recognised Mr. Grant, who rode up to the carriage window, laughingly complimenting Miss Fitz-Patrick
on the high spirit and fine action of her horses, while she in
return observed that his riding had never been so much admired before, as nothing could equal it except Ducrow on
the high-mettled racer.
Matilda had been perfectly cool and collected in the time
of danger, but now, when all was at an end, she became so
overpowered with agitation and thankfulness that it was impossible for her to speak, while, on the contrary, all trace of
Eleanor's terror vanished in the moment of safety; her escape seemed a matter of course, and she was at once restored
to all her wonted vivacity of look and manner. She and the
lively equestrian had been living in the same house for several days past, yet there were so many jests between them,
and so many old stories alluded to, that Miss Fitz-Patrick
evidently forgot her cousin being in the carriage, and that
she had not seen Mr. Grant for a length of time, though
they had been formerly intimate.  Matilda had so few acquaintances that she retained a vivid recollection of all those
she knew, and very naturally expected that her first meeting
with Mr. Grant would be as important an event to him as
it appeared to her, which turned out by no means to be the
ease. Having accidently caught a distant glimpse of her in
5




MODERN SOCIETY,
the farthest corner of the chariot, he merely gave -an animated bow, as if they had been in the habit of meeting every
day, saying in a tone of good-humored cordiality, I" Ah, Miss
Howard! how are you?''  Eleanor then continued the sentence he had interrupted, and Matilda felt herself at once
reduced to insignificance, while a long and lively dialogue
ensued, which seenmed quite interminable, as her cousin and
Mr. Grant frequently took leave, but always resumned it with
some humorous and unexpected rejoinder.
During this time Matilda found leisure to exercise her
usual penetration, and to observe with surprise and interest
that there was an. obvious change in the manner of Mr.
Grant towards Eleanor.  He had evidently placed himself
at once on the familiar terms of an old friend, but no longer
attempted the character of a lover. There were no traces
now of that intense interest with which he formerly watched
every varying expression in her beautiful features, nor of
the agitated anxiety with which he once had listened to the
development of her thoughts and feelings.  His voice,
which was always peculiarly harmonious, had long since assumed an accent of deeper tenderness towards Eleanor than
Matilda could have imagined any voice to express, but that
tone was wanting now.  He jested with the same liveliness
as before, yet it was in a vein of unembarrassed familiarity with which he might have addressed his sister; and
had Matilda judged of Mr. Grant's mind only by what she
witnessed that morning, she might have believed, as the
world did in general, that he was nothing more than an
agreeable rattle, possessing a greater command of nonsense
than any man living, who threw care to the winds, "and if
the winds reject it, to the waves." She knew Mr. Grant,
better, however, than to suppose him  deficient in feeling,
though Matilda began to think that he might be capable of
conquering it, and she anticipated much interest in observing a character which she always considered peculiar, but of
which she had recently heard much to enhance her curiosity
and to increase her esteem.
"I cut all the buttons off my coat, after Sir Colin's last
story, to prevent his ever holding me by them again," said
Mr. Grant, in reply to a remark of Eleanor's.  "Scatterbrain would be invaluable if he were only half as longwinded!-So my cousin, Lady Susan, is expected this morning — you probably thought it right on Christmas-day to
dlek the saloon with evargre'ns?"




OR THIE MARCiH OF iNTELLECT.            99
" Among which, without meaning to be personal, I include
yew —so pray come back soon to witness the debut of Lady
Susan and her dogs at Barnard Castle."
"I would gallop round the world in half an hour to obey
you," said Mr. Grant, with a parting bow full of grace and
animation, while the wind, as he rode off, blew his hair in rich
waves over his forehead, and heightened the color on his
sparkling countenance.
"Poor Mr. Grant preserves his spirits wonderfully, all
things considered; but it is often quite melancholy to think
how many people I must sooner or later make miserable for
life," said Eleanor, gazing after his receding figure as he flew
across the fields, clearing every fence that stood in his way.
"I dare say at this moment he is wishing it were as easy to
surmount all his difficulties as it is to get over those hedges
and ditches; but I must not relent, and have made it tolerably plain that his attentions are only welcome as those of an
old friend.  Miss Marabout is vehemently in favor of my
encouraging Lord Alderby in preference, because she says
the richest admirer is the most likely to be disinterested."
"Very suitable advice from a governess; but I am not at
all sure of its being founded on fact.  One large fortune
often sets out in search of another, and I rather admire the
Quakers' plan, who make wealthy girls marry the poorest
lovers, and rich men are obliged to choose portionless wives;
by which arrangement my intended ought to have ~10,000
a-year; and 3/fr. Eleanor less than nothing."
"Excuse me there! I admire bread-and-butter-love-marriages excessively in other people, but it is the very last
thing on earth I ever could fancy for myself. I take pains
every day to show Mr. Grant my opinion on this subject, for,
as Mrs. Malaprop says,'I cannot afford to lavish myself
upon a person not worth sixpence, and shall be obliged to
illiterate hinm from my memory.' How I wish his uncle Sir
Evan Grant's intentions were known, or that he possessed
Lord Alderby's coronet and property."' "You remind me of a child asking for the moon, Eleanor!
It was a fable long ago, which seems still to be realized, that
Love and Ambition had once a deadly quarrel, and have
always since been on opposite sides in matrimony.  You
will probably need to relinquish one or other of these requisites, and you are the only judge of which is most essential to
happiness. As for the misery you are so afraid of occasion



100                 MODERN SOCIRTY,
ing, I am told it is as impossible to break a good modern
heart now, as a plate of iron-stone china."
"Sir Alfred Douglas arrives before dinner to-day, and
perhaps, after all, I may promote him, vice Lord Alderby
and Mr. Grant cashiered.  He is reported to have become
more reserved than ever, but it will divert me to tame
him, and I shall not -dislike his singularity if he relaxes
only to me.  Mr. Grant is over-anxious to please, which
takes away the zest of uncertainty in trying to fascinate
him."
"' I am not sure that he is quite such a captive knight as
formerly, and indeed his motto very probably is' Qwi me
neglige me perd;' for, judging by his manner this morning,
I should say that he really seems to feel what you wish
him to do, no more than the kindness and regard of an old
friend."
Eleanor looked startled and astonished at these words, for
she entertained the highest opinion of her cousin's penetration, and was aware of her perfect candor in always saying
precisely what she thought; while Matilda felt confirmed,
from this moment, in suspecting that, though Eleanor's
vanity delighted in conquests of superior calibre, yet her
secret affections had long since been bestowed on Mr. Grant.
The extraordinary vivacity of his manner had a fascination
not very common in persons of such gay and eccentric conversation, on account of the high tone of feeling in his character, which became obvious even to Eleanor, for it was not
always in his power to conceal the sensibility of his nature,
and to make it harmonize with that reckless indifference
which he usually affected towards everything but the caprice
of the present hour.
"Mr. Grant must be in a strange state of suspense," observed Eleanor, absently.  "It has been long conjectured,
and seems now confirmed, that Sir Evan is not really married to the person who has resided at Clanpibroch Castle for
twenty years past.  She lives there yet in that state of
wretched uncertainty respecting her children's station in
life which the Scottish law unfortunately allows. Her son
may either be a beggarly outcast, without a house to shelter
him, without food, without a profession, without education,
without even a name; or he may be raised in a moment to
the rank of his father, and succeed at once to those immense
estates.  All this depends on the whim of that tyrannical
man, Sir Evan, and upon the slavish submission with which




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            101
the unfortunate woman endures his conduct to herself and
to her family.  It is a pitiable situation for any one with
human feelings thus to witness, in silence, the degradation
of those whom she loves with a mother's tenderness, while
she dare not, for their sakes, on any provocation, relieve herself from the yoke of perpetual bondage."
"It seems, indeed, the most miserable state that one can
well conceive, and if a single sentiment of remorse were ever,
under present circumstances, to visit her heart, what a fearful struggle of conscience might ensue while she hesitated
whether to plunge her children into irretrievable ruin in this
world, or to continue in that course of sin which would destroy her own hopes of happiness in another. I cannot but
wonder that a law which has originally facilitated the ruin
of many, and kept them afterwards in a state of such prolonged endurance, has never yet claimed attention from the
legislature, and been at once- repealed."
" Yes! especially for the sake of nephews and cousins,
who must often be many years in agonizing suspense, to
know whether they may squander every shilling without reserve, and borrow to an unlimited extent on the strength of
their prospects; or whether, when the old gentleman at last
expires, and they fly out in a state of inconsolable grief to
bury him and to take possession of the estate, a whole battalion of sons may not unexpectedly march in as heirs of
entail, on the strength of some verbal acknowledgment from
the deceased. It is really intolerable, because Mir. Grant,
with the Clanpibroch property, might have made a very presentable paragraph in the Morning Post, and I need not
have been ashamed to see myself announced as a' marriage
in high life' with Sir Thomas of that ilk."
" Would you marry for an advertisement in the newspapers, Eleanor? I think we are both above doing that; but
I really admire Mr. Grant's independent spirit in declining
to visit at Clanpibroch Castle while his uncle continues to
live so disreputably."
" On the contrary, I think he. plays his cards extremely
ill, for they say he has not the shadow of a chance now;
and that when any of his letters are, by mistake, directed
to Clanpibroch Castle, Sir Evan returns them to the postoffice, and writes on the back with his own hand, "'Not known
here!"'
"Miss Murray related to me yesterday some particulars
ef their final quarrel which showed an admirable instance of




102                MODERN SOCIETY,
generous independence. Sir Evan always used to treat
Mr. Grant as his possible heir till lately, when, by an act of
extreme benevolence, he was led to incur the old gentleman's
utmost rancor.  Sir Evan's eldest daughter, a very beautiful
girl of eighteen, had become attached to young Cameron,
of Heatherbrae, who would, you know, be a most eligible
match for her under present circumstances, though, for the
acknowledged daughter of the family, he might not be suitable. Her father harshly forbade the marriage, without any
adequate reason for doing so; and when the poor girl persevered in importuning him on the subject, he became so violently irritated, that, in a moment of uncontrollable anger,
he turned her out of his house. The unfortunate mother
dared not interfere, or she and all her family might have been
obliged to follow; so her daughter departed utterly homeless and forlorn.  It was impossible to anticipate what she
could do, but Mr. Grant heard the whole circumstances, and
instantly hastened to her relief.  He placed her under safe
guardianship with a respectable family, commissioned Miss
Murray to supply her with necessaries, and after having
vainly endeavored to mediate for Sir Evan's consent and forgiveness, he promised to be present at the wedding himself
next month. Since then, the old gentleman has been heard
to make vows of summary vengeance, which can be executed
any day by acknowledging his three sons, and cutting out
your friend, Mr. Grant."
"Foolish man!" exclaimed Eleanor, in a tone between
jest and earnest. "He might have done the same thing in
some sneaking, clandestine way that never would have
reached Clanpibroch Castle; but Mr. Grant always acts
upon impulse, without a grain of discretion.  He might
probably be heir to Lady Susan Danvers, if he would only
call her young and handsome, instead of teasing her with
practical jokes, and hinting continually about' Ocean's
many-wrinkled smile,' and Marshal Blue-hair's japan blacking for the hair and eye-brows. She is very harsh to some
pretty young niece whose cause he espouses, and that is his
reason for tormenting her. There is nothing half so frightful as a decayed beauty who will not grow old; and it used
to be remarked of Lady Susan Danvers and her late sister,
that the one was too beautiful to be good, and the other too
good to be beautiful.  I wonder if that is ever said of us,
Matilda?"
"I shall be perfectly satisfied with the part you probably




OR TEE MARCH OF -NTELLECT.           1Q0
assign to me," replied her cousin, with a smile of so much
archness and good-humor that a transient doubt crossed
Eleanor's mind whether her own claim to admiration could
be superior, and a bitter feeling of jealousy towards Matilda,
which was seldom dormant in the heiress's mind, now took
entire possession of her thoughts.  It seemed strange that
there could be any one for a self-satisfied person like Eleanor to envy; but it was the case fiom her childhood, and
Miss Mlarabout had early nursed that feeling, which grew
stronger and more irritable every day.  Of all the rankling pains which a human heart can experience, that of
envy, is, next to iremorse, the most painful.  If has not the
dignity of anger, it receives not the sympathy which grief
excites, and it must not be acknowledged even to ourselves,
for the meanest of mankind might despise himself for feeling it, and the proudest is degraded by a conviction that
there lives another in whom anything appears superior to
himself.
Matilda continued to talk with vivacity and humor during
the continuance of their drive, though she could not but observe with surprise the peevish, consequential expression
which her cousin's countenance gradually assumed; for little did she imagine that Eleanor already looked upon her as
a rival for admiration among the guests now assembled at
Barnard Castle, and that her mind was occupied in planning
every expedient by which her companion might be kept in
the background and mortified into silence and obscurity
during the following week. While Matilda's heart, therefore, glowed with every amiable and affectionate emotion
towards her cousin, and while her spirits were buoyant with
anticipated pleasure, it was fortunate for her own happiness
that she could not, on the present occasion, see " that hide.
ous sight, a naked human heart."




1X04                MIODER~I SOCIirTfY
ClHAPTER IX,.- " Dropping buckets into empty wc.is,
And growing old in drawing nothing up."
e' AnH! Lady Susan Danvers is arrived!" cried elleanor,
as the carriage slowly turned round a broad sheet of grave]
which expanded before the house; "there she is. as gay and
fne as a perfumer's wig-block, staring out of the window.
How Mr. Grant made me laugh yesterday with an account
of her travels abroad, when she refused to marry ever so
many ex-kings, counts, and cardinals!  Poor Lady Susan is
so frequently invited to second-rate Edinburgh parties, on
account of her rank being ornamental, that he means to sug~
gest a plan for her being let out by the job, and turning an
honest penny by it. In ordinary dress she is worth so much
-in diamonds and feathers double the price; but when she
keeps her father's coroneted carriage waiting at the door,
she deserves any money.";" It is said that, in Mrs. Glass's Receipt Book, or Hints
on Etiquette, I forget which, you may find a prescription
for assembling the most agreeable dinner-party imaginable.
Get a lawyer to talk, a beauty to excite interest, a traveller
to tell stories, and a peer to give it eclat; but, by your account, Lady Susan might serve in nearly all these capacities
at once."
"' So she does!  For instance, Lady Montague, our opposite neighbor, gives only three dinners in a season, which
take place on three days running; so my great amusement
is to watch her party arriving. The first day, a coronet is
emblazoned on every pannel; the second day, gentlemen's
carriages arrive with only supporters; and the third day,
nothing is to be seen but hackney-coaches full of poor relations; but I was amused to observe, that Lady Susan is
always present at the whole of them, first to be pleased herself at the great party, and then that she may give dignity
to the inferior ones."
A perfect uproar of joy took place between Eleanor and




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            105
her newly-arrived visitor when they met, and the barking
of lapdogs was scarcely louder or more vociferous than the
clamor of their voices while compliments, inquiries, reproaches, and protestations of regard were exchanged in
rapid and animated succession. A slight bow of recognition
was all that Lady Susan bestowed upon Miss Howard, followed by that deliberate stare of a cold, examining eye,
which is, above all inflictions, the most formidable in society
to a person of sensitive feelings; therefore, being anxious to
escape from notice which was so little conciliatory, Matilda
gracefully returned the acknowledgment, and quietly seated
herself by the fire.
" How very thin you are become, Lady Susan!" exclaimed
Eleanor, with well-assumed consternation, for she knew that
her friend lived in perpetual vexation because her embonpoint
was beyond what suited with any pretentions to young
ladyism. "You must be fed up in the Highlands for the
credit of our mountain air, and not leave Barnard Castle till
you can scarcely get out at the door."
"Bien obligee! but you shall positively not make a prizeox of me.  I am, as you say, in very good training at present. Not quite reduced enough yet, but very little more
would satisfy me."
" Why, Lady Susanl! what more would you have'! I
declare you must be in a rapid consumption already!"
replied Eleanor, undauntedly fixing her satirical eye on the
broad expanse of her visitor's well-rounded figure.  "I once
died of laughing at the theatre, when a skeleton was brought
on the stage by Harlequin, who fed it up till the figure
gradually became corpulent and fattened into a London
alderman; but we must try a similar experiment here without delay, or you will vanish altogether; so, ladies! come
to luncheon, and if you cannot eat with an appetite, you
may at least eat with a knife and fork."
On their return to the drawing-room, Matilda felt as if
she had become suddenly invisible during a long conversation
which ensued between Lady Susan Danvers and Eleanor,
neither of whom seemed to contemplate the probability of
her assisting the dialogue.  It was chiefly carried on sotto
voce, though such parts as she overheard amused and interested her so much, that, to prevent the appearance of
being sullen  or irritable, she took  out some drawing
materials, and resigned herself to silence, while the others
sat down in that nothing-particular-to-do sort of way in
5*




106                 MODERN SOCIETY,
which most ladies at country houses pass a large portion of
their time.
"' Now Miss Fitz-Patrick, pray tell me who I am to meet
this morning?" asked Lady Susan, with an air of expectation.  "The house, you tell me is fuller than it can hold,
so there are probably twenty odd people at least."
6 All our old set are here.  Lady Montague, with Adelaide and Mary, who are dull and silent as usual; they can
do nothing, you know, but look pretty; —Mrs. Clifford and
her three indisposable daughters, who have set up for being
an'attached family,' which is the sort of thing I have no
patience for, one sister taking you aside to praise the other
in confidence. Colonel Pendarvis of the Blues arrived yesterday, and Sir Colin Fletcher, larger than life."
" Ah, poor Sir Colin! I was introduced to him several
years ago, and we have never exchanged a syllable since, but
he has the trouble of bowing to me almost every day
when we pass in the street. I owe him a hat for the number of times he has taken his off to me; and if I go to ten
parties in a night, he is the first person I meet at them all.
It was impossible to know when one might begin to give up
the acquaintance, in case of looking as if I had taken something amiss, which could not well be, seeing we had no
intercourse; but now I shall either improve our intimacy,
or get up a quarrel, to save the trouble of nodding my head
like a Chinese mandarian every day."
" Sir Colin gives papa a great deal of additional exercise
in Edinburgh, for my father invariably rounds the corner of
the nearest street on catching a glimpse of his portly figure.
Major Foley of the 10th came here this morning also.  He
is still the Beau Fribble of an old comedy in his dress and
conversation, with such a look of conscious beauty that I can
scarcely resist laughing. His face would do best under a
bonnet, and his curls are so elaborately studied, that every
hair seems to be on special duty; yet, in my opinion, your
cousin Mr. Grant's head looks ten times better, which always
seems to have been dressed by accident. Apropos! I am
happy to tell you that he is arrived."'" Tom Grant!'" exclaimed Lady Susan, in a tone of alarm
and vexation.  " I shall leave the house to-morrow! What
could possess him to come here at this season?  If I have an
aversion in the world, it is for him. The most troublesome,
mischievous, and satirical of human beings, whom it is ima,
possible to keep at a distance."




OR TIHE MARCo  OF INTELLnOT.         1Aot
"I never heard of any one before who wished to do so!
Mr. Grant is universally popular in society; and I am certain, if ladies returned a member to Parliament, he would
be unanimousely elected. But," continued Eleanor, seeing
that Lady Susan's observant eyes were fixed on her with a
penetrating stare, "if you have any infallible prescription
for repulsing forward people, pray furnish me with it instantly. I am inflicted at present with a guest in this house
whom no power on earth can possibly affront or dislodge.
He was an unwelcome visitor here last summer, merely tolerated as an old friend of Sir Philip's, but nothing could
convince him that we were not delighted at his arrival and
inconsolable when he departed. He kept repeatedly promising to return, though no one ever asked him, and here he
is arrived again, with a thousand apologies for not coming
sooner, and a promise to make up for that by remaining as
long as possible.  He is more at home than myself, and more
unwelcome than a rat in a hole; but I fear that the gamekeeper, who is engaged to keep down vermin, will scarcely
rid me of Mr. Armstrong."
" Sinlbad's old man of the sea was nothing to this! Could
you not have the door of his room  locked some night, and
forget to let him out?"
1" I would have tried it, certainly, but you know papa is so
good-natured, he hates making enemies, and Mr. Armstrong
adopts a strange way of hinting as if we owed him obligations. He has a very mean, sheep-stealing look, and probably wants to impose some absurd story upon us; but it cannot be endured much longer, for there never was any one so
tiresome. He sits from morning till night in that Spanish
chair by the fire, whistling a tune and tattooing on the table;
perfectly well dressed, with clean gloves, and so forth, but
not a thing to do. He neither shoots, nor fishes, nor reads,
but is forever in the way, always expecting to be spoken to
and entertained.  Why he comes, or when he goes away, no
one can possibly guess."
Is he a man of fortune and family?" asked Lady Susan,,
who was never known to omit these two important inquiries
respecting any gentleman under discussion.
" Oh dear, no! Mr. Armstrong is one of the most remarkable men living, in these respects! lHe began the
world with no visible means of existence and no connexions;
yet he has lived well and frequented the best company all
his life. Not a conjecture can be formed what are his re



108                MODn'ERW  SOOCIETT,
sources, except that people allege he lives by a curious sort
of jobbing; and Mr. Grant assures me that Sir Philip was
actually sold by him to- the picture-dealers abroad. Mr.
Armstrong had mastered the whole jargon of the trade,
and he showed off so much fastidious criticism, that my
grand-uncle became fully impressed with his unimpeachable
judgment; half the trash in my lumber-room is of his selection; and your cousin tells me there is not a bad picture to be
got now at Florence, because'Sir Philip bought them all up.
Mr. Armstrong;s father was a law-agent in Edinburgh, who
allowed his son to travel for three years in Italy, after which
it was expected that the hopeful youth would settle to the
same profession; but, when he returned from abroad, with
his head running on operas and paintings, no consideration
could confine his soaring spirit to the desk. Accordingly
his second brother, who had been more judiciously trained
for business, sat down upon the vacant stool and became a
pettifogging scribe, who did all sorts of odd jobs for Sir
Philip, and often managed what he called' waf cases.' He
died suddenly, about a month after my uncle, but without
leaving any fortune, and his dilettante brother succeeded to
little more than papers and parchments."
" But here comes my ci-devant governess, whom it is very
diverting to tease, by pretending that Mr. Armstrong remains here on her account. To say the truth, she'rather
likes the joke, for you know, Lady Susan, that when ladies
come to be of no particular age, they are pleased with the
smallest remnant of an' admirer, and after thirty we get
rather into the afternoon of life.  Ah, Miss Marabout! I
was talking of you, and Lady Susan is shocked to hear
what an example of cruelty is set before me in respect to
my lovers. Poor Mr. Armstrong! he seemed inconsolable
at breakfast this morning, and could not eat above three
muffins.  I'observed him  look exceedingly sentimental
when he asked you -to sweeten his tea, and there was
something very forbidding in your way of offering him the
toast. By the way there were some tender messages left for
you when he walked out to day, whistling as usual the air,
as far as I could follow it, of' Oh no! we never mention
her.' 
Miss Marabout attempted to execute a blush and a simper on the most approved boarding-school pattern, while she
looked so exquisitely conscious, that Eleanor, who watched
her countenance with keen enjoyment, gave Lady Susan a




OR THE MAROH OF INTr E LLECT           100
look expressive of satirical humor, very similar to that with
which she often clandestinely imparted to her governess
some jest against others which they mutually shared.  Matilda's attention was in the mean time diverted from the
scene before her by a perpetual annoyance from  Lady
Susan's three little Blenheim spaniels, which were constantly
fighting or playing under the table where she sat, causing
such a vibration as occasionally threatened the total, overthrow of her drawing materials. till at length one of then
began barking so violently that further conversation became
utterly impossible.
"Excuse me, Miss Howard," said Lady Susan, affectedlyg
" my darling Tiny cannot bear to be looked at.'
"What a modest dog!" exclaimed Matilda, unable to help
laughing;-" but she is certainly a great beauty!"
"Yes!" said Eleanor, "Tiny has quite the air of a dog of
fashion, and such a friendly way of putting her paw upon my
arm, as if she really could speak, and had something confidential to say."
"Dear little creatures! they are very attaching! Positively, Tiny becomes so melancholy during my absence that
Dentelle and I take it by turns now to remain at home from
church on alternate Sundays that she may not be dull."
A long conversation ensued between the two friends on
the good qualities of their respective pets, while innumerable
anecdotes were told of their sagacity and affection.  Dogs,
long since deceased, were remembered and deplored with
melancholy regret, and the infirmities and distempers of
others still living were described and lamented, with expressions of interest and pity which might have been applied to
their dearest friends in similar, circumstances.  The medical
treatment of their complaints was anxiously considered, the
variety of their tastes discussed, and many unpleasant endurances they each boasted of having put up with from the
canine race, which would have caused a fellow-creature to be
banished with disgust from their sitting-rooms.  In short, it
appeared as if the two ladies had formed a conspiracy to
render dogs at least equal to mankind, if not superior.  Before the endless subject seemed more than begun, the door
suddenly opened, and a head appeared, exhibiting an expression of laughing animation which Murillo might have vainly
attempted to copy.
"I must pay my devoirs to Lady Susan! How is my
pretty cousin Mary 2  Have you forgiven me our last ren



10                MODERN SOCIETY,
contre l' —cried Mr. Grant, not advancing a step. "No
answer? then I must decamp, for the most agreeable personage in the world is a certain lady in good humor, who is the
very reverse otherwise."
"Come in," replied Lady Susan; "' you are not one that
it is prudent to quarrel with, so we must endeavor to endure
you."' For better and for worse?' But I dare not come forward yet! We are over head and ears -in mud-a famous
run-fifteen miles straight across the country, and killed
near Dewkesbury lane."
" Do advance, and tell me all about it," said Eleanor, impatiently.  " What are you afraid of."
"' A charge from  the whole troop of housemaids, commanded by old Mrs. Gordon," answered Mr. Grant, approaching on tiptoe: " if she knew of my being here in this
plight, her good opinion of me would be forfeited forever;
and I have it upon authority that she was heard to pronounce
my panegryic as a very safe person in the house, never elevating my feet on the sofas nor passing any one. of her innumerable mats without doing homage."
" I like to see poor Mrs. Gordon's esprit du corps," said
Matilda.  " She makes as great a commotion about the mark
of a footstep on the staircase as ever Robinson Crusoe did
when he traced one on the sand."
"I met with a curious specimen of professional enthusiasm
from my maid when we last came from London in the steamboat," said Lady Susan. "We had a perfect storm —the
sea running mountains high-the sails no larger than pockethandkerchiefs-two men lashed to the helm  -"
" Yes!" interrupted Mr. Grant; " and the ladies quite
fatigued working at the pumps."
" Quite sublime, and extremely terrifying, I assure you,
when my maid rushed into the cabin, staggering with the
motion, and scarcely able to stand, while she grasped in her
hand a new cap which she entreated me to put on instantly.
Almost bewildered at her earnestness, I asked why she
wished it.' Oh, my lady!' was her reply,' we are all going
to the bottom, and I wish you to be a decent corpse.'"
"1 That reminds me of our last meeting, Lady Susan! It
really turned out a better joke than could have been anticipated!" said Mr. Grant with a laugh of exquisite enjoyment.
"' You were a little short-sighted that day."
1" Now, Mr. Grant! I see you are dying to be asked for




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.             11
the story, so pray give it us without delay," cried Eleanor
eagerly.
"With all the pleasure in life, if I can only get leave!
Your last head-dress, Lady Susan! The scold was enough
to'faire les cheveex dresser' la, tete.' 
"This is evidently a narrative founded on fiction," said
Matilda, pitying the alarm and irritation which were visible
in the lady's countenance.: We shall perhaps read it in
the next number of Hood's Comic Annual, illustrated by
Cruikshanks."
" Thank you for the hint, Mliss Howard!" exclaimed Mr.
Grant.  "I protest it would do admirably!  In the first
page, I shall be represented storming with indignation at
Gianetti, the hair-dresser's, because no one had appeared in
the shop to supply my wants. Then my good cousin is seen
slowly ascending the steps. I instantly dart round to the
opposite side of the counter, throw off my hat, tie on a stray
apron which happened to be there, and prepare to obey orders; but instead of being asked, in dulcet tones, for a bottle of Smith's lavender water or of Rowland's Kalydor,
which were all that, in the innocence of my heart, I ever
dreamt of any young lady wanting at a perfumer's, there
burst out upon me such a discovery, and, though it was not
intended for me, such a scold!"
" You deserved it, and ten times more! I never heard
of anything so atrocious!" exclaimed Eleanor, in pretended
indignation. "'Mr. Grant, you are so fond of odd tricks,
that no one ever knows, when you are in the room, whether
their heads are their own or not."' The hair on their heads, you mean," whispered Mr.
Grant, aside,while his cousin was angrily endeavoring to seem
occupied with her dogs. " Lady Susan, you know I am your
best friend, and nothing promotes a good understanding
among relations half so much as when they have a joke between them."
" If a joke is a good one, I enjoy it beyond anything, but
there appears to me very little humor in this!"
" I see a great deal of good-himzor in it," replied Mr.
Grant, looking slyly at Lady Susan's irritated countenance.
" The unfortunate frisezur made a hair-breadth'scape, and I
was terrified out of my few remaining senses.'This put -Mr. Frog in a terr.ble fright,
He took up his hat, and he wished them good night.'




11~2               MODERN SOCIETY0
Now, pray forgive me, lady Susan, for it makes me wretched when we quarrel, considering all the obligations I owe
you."
"Obligations!"' exclaimed Lady Susan, in a tone of perplexity; "what may that be?"
"Have you really forgotten your kindness to me when I
was a little boy? Don't you remember all the sugar-plums
you gave me, and that whip with a red handle, and a whistle
at the end of it?"
" I recollect nothing of the kind  You have a most fertile imagination, Mr. Grant! but if we may judge of the boy
from the man, you certainly deserved the whip, whether you
ever got it or not."
Mr. Grant put his hand to his face with a contortion of
pain, as if he really had suffered the lash, and retreated towards a window.
" Ah! here are Dr. and Miss Murray arriving! how glad
I shall be to meet them both! It does my eyes good to see
such excellent people, and he is the only clever man I ever
liked.  One cannot expect above once in a century to see
such a person!"
If Eleanor had been formerly disposed to venerate this
truly good man, she felt still more impressed with a sense
of his excellence, from the sincerity and warmth with which
Mr. Grant expressed himself, and her beautiful countenance
glowed with animation as she hastened forward to meet her
guests.
" So you have ventured to see me at last, Dr. Murray I
We thought you were never coming back; and if there had
been no other way of prevailing on you to return, I meant
to personate a rheumatic old woman, and send, in her name,
an ill-spelt letter, requesting an interview, knowing how
seldom you pay visits, except in charity. Miss Murray, I
stopped at your gate this morning, and admired prodigiously
all the improvements which are going on there. You are
doing a vast deal to embellish the house and gardens."
"I see many great changes going on here,,too."
Ah I in my small way," replied Eleanor.
" Small!!!" exclaimed  her simple-hearted visitor, in
amazement.
"' Yes, Miss Fitz-Patrick you are right," said Dr. Murray, who perfectly understood the pride which was veiled
under an affected humility. " In scenes of such natural




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLEC&T.           1ls
splendor and magnitude as these,' what is man?' We are
but insects scratching on the beautiful face of nature."
" Or like the fly on the coach-wheel, saying,' What a dust
I raise P' " added Mr. Grant.
"' A modern author gives the same idea in very striking
language," said Dr. Murray. "' Take some quiet sober moment of life.' he says,'and add together the two ideas of
n?7ride and of man; add them, if you can, without a smile.
Behold him a creature of a span high, strutting in infinite
space, and darting disdain from his eyes, in all the grandeur
of littleness. Perched on a little speck of the universe, he
is rolled along the Heavens through a road of worlds, while
systems and creations are flaming above and beneath; he is
an atom of atoms.  Yet will this miserable creature revel in
his greatness, and mock at his fellow, sprung from that same
dust to which they both shall soon return.'
"Very striking indeed!" observed Eleanor, turning heedlessly to Mr. Grant.  "It is curious that we never apply
any remark to ourselves, for all the time Dr. Murray has
been speaking, I could not but wish that the most high and
mighty Sir Alfred Douglas had benefited by such a lecture
on humility. I am told that, at parties abroad, he sometimes
drew up to his full height, and looked as if he meant to kick
the universe from under his feet."
"Wait till you know him  as well as I do, MissFitzPatrick, and then you may believe all those ridiculous stories if you can —-"' I hope the state-room is ordered to be in readiness,"
said Lady Susan, wishing to tease Mr. Grant, who had a
perfect enthusiasm for Sir Alfred. " It used to be alleged
that he complained of catching cold while airing all the best
beds in every house, because, somehow or other, no one ever
thought of placing him in any except their principal rooms."
" I beg his pardon, then; but no such hardships are prepared for him here."
" How well I know the sort of lodgings which are reserved
for stray gentlemen in some country houses,"' observed Mr.
Grant, laughing.  "' If there be a cracked basin or a darned
towel on the establishment. the housekeeper is heard to say,' That may do for the bachelors' rooms!' and wherever there
exists an apartment with its only window in the ceiling, or
a mirror that distorts your face like a paralytic stroke, it
falls to our share. At Clanpibroch Castle, the doors are all
in a row, and so exactly alike, that I hung my visiting-card




114                 IiODERN SOCIETY,
on the handle at last, to prevent the intrusion, by mistake,
of half-a-dozen single gentlemen simcessively, who all lodged
on the same floor, and used to catch me arranging my last
head-d'ress, Lady Susan."
A lively dialogue ensued between Eleanor and Mr. Grant,
during which Matilda enjoyed some interesting conversation
with Dr. Murray; but Miss Fitz-Patriclk at length remembered that it was her intention to fascinate her newly-arrived
guests completely; so, breaking through her cousin's interview without ceremony, she called them to accompany her
in the usual routine of a tour round the cabinets, conservatories, china, books, and pictures.  Dr. Murray followed,
with the same feeling of good-humored indulgence which
would have led him to testify an interest in the toys of some
pleasing, wayward child whom he wished to conciliate, but
yet in his remarks there appeared that perfect judgment and
good taste which characterized all he ever said.
"You have never been here since my ancesters were all
hung, Dr. Murray," observed Eleanor, smiling defiance to
Matilda, who gravely shook her head, and resumed her
drawing, for the heiress had actually executed her threat by
giving them new names.  "Poor Sir Philip used to boast
that his family never had a beginning and never would have
an end; but that only reminds one now of the old epitaph-'Here lies the Laird of Lundie.
Sic transit gloria mundi!"'
" How very unfortunate it was," remarked Miss Murray,
" that he left no family."
" Excuse me there! I am far from agreeing with you,"
said Eleanor, much diverted.  "This is Lord-Lord Dumbartonshire, who was killed at Culloden. The name seems
to be written in gilt letters below the left arm. My greatgrandfather, you know."
"His uniform  does not belong to a Scotch regiment."
observed Dr. Murray, fixing his thoughtful eyes on her
countenance  "there must surely be some mistake.  That
inscription, too, is quite modern."
" As for the' dress, artists long ago never thought of attending to that; they carried aboutjfigures ready painted,
and added the head of any one who sat.  A  lady with
shoulders up to her ears, and her waist like an alderman's
wife, might choose the form  of a sylph, and my great



OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.             115
grandfather probably preferred the uniform of the Guards
to his own."
"I admire truth and accuracy in everything," said Dr.
Murray, passing on to inspect the succeeding pictures.
" They are vastly genteel," said Miss Murray, in a complaisant tone.  " This is Queen Mary, I suppose, or Cleopatra?"
" No! that is Lord Ben-Nevis's second wife!  I cannot
recollect her name."
" Lady Bee-lYevis, I suppose," replied Miss Murray.
"Now, who could have told you that!" cried Mr. Grant,
unable to help laughing at her simplicity.  "But, Miss FitzPatrick, there is some blunder here, for Lord Ben-Nevis
was only married once.:'
Indeed you are mistaken-he lost two wives at least."
" He may have lost as many as you please, but I am certain he never married above one."
"You genealogists are all so obstinate I This picture
must have been done for somebody, and it is as likely to
have been a Lady Ben-Nevis as any one else.  That is old
Lady Betty, who was the greatest beauty of her time, but
the picture formerly served as a target for Sir Philip to shoot
at when he was a boy, so one eye and the nose were gone;
but when we were in Edinburgh last I sat to M'Innes, and
had my own substituted, which looks just as well, so now
you will allow she is handsomer than ever. Lady Betty
made what was then thought a misalliance in marrying Lord
de Mainbury's grandfather."
"Had he really a grandfather?" asked Mr. Grant, incredulously.
" So it is reported! and I have heard that when Mr. de
Mainbury married my great-aunt, he desired a coach-maker
to send pattern coats of arms, thlat he might choose what
looked best."
" Two salmon rampant for supporters, of course, as all
his wealth is derived from fisheries. Three sprats gules,
and for the crest a cod's head and shoulders."
"How I hate people to be satirical!" said Eleanor, laughing.  " Here is a picture I wish to have the public opinion
upon. Lady Susan, we all know what a connoisseur you
are considered, ever since that week you spent at Rome;
tell me thenl if this is a tolerable daub or not?"
The lady in question seemed. pleased at this reference,




116                MODERN SOCIETY,
and rolling up a sheet of paper in the form of a telescope,
she gazed through it with all the air of an acknowledged
critic.
" There are somle good bits of color here, but the outline is
defective, and not enough of distance preserved. These tints
are scarcely forcible enough, too; but that is a very clever
mountain in the back-ground, and this light is well brought
out. Altogether it wants breadth."
"I see plenty of breadth," interrupted Eleanor, slyly directing her eye towards Lady Susan's own figure; " but there
is rather a deficiency, I should say, of depth."
" Do you advise Miss Fitz-Patrick to sit for her likeness
to the artist who painted this,. for I know she has thoughts
of doing it?" asked Mr. Grant, looking so arch that Matilda
felt sure he was devising mischief. " The young man is now
in this house, touching up sorme of those portraits, and we
think him a promising genius, seeing his imitation of the
antique so excellent."
" Tolerable!" replied Lady Susan in a very dubious tone,
"but his painting wants relief! the composition is not correct.
There is no poetry here! as for genius, the less we say about
that the better.  Pray, Miss Fitz-Patrick, never think of
trusting your countenance to such a mere plasterer."
" Lady Susan, you are ruined forever," cried Mr. Grant
in an ecstasy of delight-"5 Why that is Vandyke's famous
picture of the Sleeping Nymph! Did you never hear that
Sir Philip paid ~1000 for it?  Oh Lady Susan! unfortunate Lady Susan!"
" Dr. Murray! you are admiring nature instead of art now.
Is that view not magnificent!" said Eleanor, following him
to a distant window.  " Each of these prospects is different,
and appears like a landscape handsomely framed.  I have
opened the plantation westwards, that we may see the sun
setting every night behind that hill of Benachscrocholet.
Now, do observe how completely I have mastered the Gaelic
pronunciation! You will see me become quite a Highland
chief! but I cannot yet get seasoned to your northern blasts.
They kill me outright, and make me appear like a perfect
heathen, for I can so seldom venture to church.  All those
country kirks are so damp that Miss Marabout and I catch
cold every time we venture there.  When the weather reforms, so shall I."
" Miss Fitz-Patrick!" said Dr. Murray, with mild but impressive earnestness.  "Pardon me if I estimate my profes



OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            117
tsonal privileges too highly; but believing as I do that a
sacred duty is imposed on nme towards yourself, and seeing
that hitherto no opportunity has been allowed me of discharging it, I venture to say a few words, trusting that they
may be received as they are intended, in all sincerity and
kindness.  You are now in the morning of such a bright and
prosperous existence, that amidst the splendors of a scene
like this, it is less to be wondered at, if you are so ready to
confess indifference towards those ordinances which remind
us of another and a better state. We are now contemplating
the portraits of those who long since lived, and felt, and acted
in these very chambers, and who called those distant hills
their own. Each of them has been summoned away, carrying no possession along with him  but the riches which he
may have wisely laid up for himself.  They were stewards
here, not proprietors, and they are gone to give an account
of their stewardship.  You are appointed for a time to the
same office; but in a few short years, while yet those glorious
scenes of nature continue to proclaim their Maker's hand,
and to shine as brightly as before, these walls will resound
with the mirth of other voices, and you and I shall each be
withdrawn forever, and called to our solemn reckoning.
You have been selected, Miss Fitz-Patrick, by the Master
whom I serve to be an object of His peculiar bounty; and
in placing you thus conspicuously, as a city set on a hill, and
in gifting you with all that might add personal to family
influence, Hle will expect of the ten talents committed to your
care a very faithful and a very awful reckoning."
Dr. Murray continued to address Eleanor for some time
with all that could touch her feelings, on the duties and responsibilities of the present life, and finished with a solemn
appeal to the fears and the hopes for eternity, which stand
in awful contrast before the Christian mind. " Consider,
my young friend," said he, in conclusion, " that we perish
not like blossoms that flutter and disappear in the autumn
breeze; but that ours is a destiny more permanent, and, if
we will, more glorious than that of the perpetual stars in the
firmament above; do not then think it a trifling consideration which may be lightly set aside, whether you are preparing to spend those eternal ages in hopeless repentance, or in
a degree of felicity vwhich eye hath not seen, and the heart
of man has never been able to conceive.'"
Eleanor's color rose while Dr. Murray addressed her in
tones of impressive interest. Her look became downcast,




118                 MfODERN  SOCIETi,
her eyes filled with tears, the proud, consequential aspect of
her countenance gradually subsided into an expression of
softness, and she silently gave him her hand.
" Can you, Miss Fitz-Patrick, amongst a multitude of flatterers, suffer one faithful, uncompromising friend?2" continued he, earnestly.  "I feel myself the appointed guardian
of each individual in this widely-extended parish; and it
would be well if I might occasionally speak the words of
truth and soberness to her whose influence and example will
have such weight among the objects of my continual solicitude and prayers."
" I once had such a friend as you describe," replied Eleanor,
in a tone of unusual sensibility. " I still need one, Dr. Murray, and though the blessing was not sufficiently valued formerly, let us hope that now I may prove deserving of it."
Eleanor believed herself sincere in saying this, and to a
certain extent she was. Deeply impressed by the glowing
eloquence of his manner, and conscious of Dr. Murray's exalted character, she had long desired the esteem of one whose
regard was indeed an honor, since it could be acquired by
nothing but personal worth. While he laid before her the
utter insignificance of all earthly distinctions, she felt for the
moment as if they had vanished from her affections, and as
if she might yet learn to view them in due subservience to
the will and to the service of her Maker.  A deep conviction
rushed into her mind of the inability which she had recently
felt to derive happiness or'peace from the fullest indulgence
of every vain and extravagant inclination; and the contrast
forced itself upon her thoughts between Matilda's serenity
and cheerfulness in every changing scene, while her own
bosom was agitated with torturing emotions of envy and
worldly ambition. The ennui and weariness which she had
suffered in the absence of any object sufficiently important to
occupy her whole desires, now recurred to her recollection
with irresistible conviction; and while Dr. Murray pursued
his subject with rising energy, it seemed to Eleanor's mind
as if she were gradually awakening from a stormy dream,
and that peace, like moonlight on the face of the waters, had
again revisited her bosom.  But the world does not thus
easily lose hold of its votary.  Many a struggle takes place
before it has been sufficiently weighed in the balance to be
found wanting. Many a tear of penitence is shed before we
feel that repentance which shall never need to be repented
of. Many a resolution formed, before divine grace is sought




OR THIl MARCH O0F INTELLECT.           1l9
to render it permanent. Who has not experienced the powerful effects of eloquent preaching on his own heart, rendering every desire and every pursuit that might seem likely
to oppose the stream of exhortation like straws on the tide;
but while yet only descending the steps which lead from the
altar, his holy dispositions have been put to sleep, his good
intentions dispersed, and the seriousness of his thoughts exchanged for all that levity and forgetfulness in which he has
long indulged? It was thus with Eleanor. She seemed to
have gazed for a moment through the telescope of faith, and
with startling vividness to have brought eternity close to
her eye, but in a moment she looked around and all was
forgotten.




120                 MODERN SOCIETY,
CHAPTER X.
Ere triflers half their wish obtain,
The toiling pleasure sickens into pain.
GOLDSMITH.
"TMiss FITZ-PATRICK!" cried Lady Susan Danvers, in a
tone of girlish vivacity, " do come this way and look at the
sportsmen galloping home across the park. They resemble
a field of scarlet poppies in a breeze of wind!"'Strike me poetical!-what brilliant simile was that?"
exclaimed Mr. Grant, taking out his pocket-book and pencil; " I must make a memorandum of it for my next publication-puppies did you say?"
" Well, Miss Fitz-Patrick, Sir Richard gave me a capital
mount! the horse as quiet as an old cow," said Mr. Armstrong, entering with the other gentlemen, and putting himself first.  "Here I am, returned on your hands like a bad
shilling!"
4' So I think!" replied Eleanor, dryly.  "We must endeavor to pass you as soon as possible."
"I suppose your subscription to the hounds was paid in
advance to-day, Mr. Armstrong?" asked Mr. Grant, gravely,'" We generally expect it to be so from strangers."
" Subscription!! —what do you mean, sir?"
"You don't say that the master of the hounds let you
join without first settling with him!" replied Mr. Grant,
assuming an air of well-feigned astonishment.  " Any one
going out for a day is considered the same as a whole
season. You are free of the pack now, but I can tell you
there is no getting off without tabling the money-fifty
guineas."
"But a stranger, who is leaving the country in a few
days," interposed Eleanor, " could scarcely be asked to give
such a sum. I shall speak to papa myself, Mr. Armstrong,
and tell him that, as you go so very soon   -"
"Ah! the sooner the better, if you wish to evade the sub



OS THE MARCII OF INTELLECT.          121
scrlption," added Mlr. Grant. " It will be sent for, probably,
1 should think, on Saturday next."
" I shall neither leave the place, nor pay any such exaction," said Mr. Armstrong, stubbornly seating himself on
the Spanish chair.  No trifle of that kind would make me
disappoint my friends when I have once promised to stay
with them; and all the hounds in Britain will not drive
me out-of this snug corner, while I continue to be as welcolle and as comfortable as I am now."
" Ah, Major Foley i" cried Eleanor, turning away with a
grimace of chagrin; " how do you do?"
" How do I do!-always well when I am near Miss FitzPatrick."
"Colonel Pendarvis! you were reported among the killed
and wounded in a desperate leap over my new enclosure at
Wolfdean this morning. Did you know that Major Foley
was the original Snob mentioned in the Quarterly Review?
— it is an undeniable likeness, so he cannot disown it."
" I never disown anything!" replied the Major. "If
you were to allege that Lord Byron's Corsair was meant for
me, or the Stout Gentleman, I should be equally ready to
personate either character that pleases you."
"; Not the Stout Gentleman! we have him already; —and
here he comes; I know the creaking of his boots at any dis
tance," said Eleanor, darting her satirical eye at Lord Alderby, who entered a moment afterwards.  "What an admirable horse yours is, my lord, for a light weight!-he
seems very spirited too. I have read in the Morning Post,
these many years past, an advertisement for a horse to carry
a'heavy, timid gentleman.' Can anybody tell me who he
is, or if there is more than one?"
" I've seen thousands at Melton!" said Major Foley; " the
moment a man gets heavy he becomes timid. I ride exactly
ten stone eight myself."
"In that case, it is less a compliment to you than to Alderby or Fletcher, when Miss Fitz-Patrick remarks, as she
often does, that you are all worth your weight in gold," said
Mr. Grant.
" I wish we all had it!" cried Colonel Pendarvis, "I am
sure any one might read half-pay engraved on my forehead,
but none of you will take half price for my hunters. Foley,
it is too bad of you asking such a price for Flare-up, when
everybody knows I am a soldier of fortune, meaning a soldier of no fortune at all, and that I positively cannot afford
0I




1i-22'              MODERN 3OCIETr,
it.  You should be more considerate towards a brotherofficer."
" Colonel! I perceive you want to out-General me in our
negotiation; but it won't do!"
"Are you parting with Flare-up, Major Foley?" said
Eleanor, reproachfully.  " I remember being so sorry last
year, when Sir Francis let you have his beautiful chestnut,
and to-day Lady Susan was remarking that you looked almnost handsomze upon her."
Pendclarvis! the bargain is off! she would be cheap at a
thousand pounds if 3Miss Fitz-Patrick admires her.  I flatter myself we did make a pretty good appearance on the
field this morning!"'' Then you do flatter yourself prodigiously," interrupted
Mr. Grant.  ".Apropos of bargains, Pendarvis, let me tell
you how famously I once did Sir Colin out of a good mount,
-he can't overhear us, does he?  It is the only good story
Fletcher never attempts to tell.  We were out with the
Galewood hounds, rand I was on that slow, stumbling bay of
mine that you must remember —'Dapper' we called him,
on account of his clumsy proportions.  Latterly it was his
customn, the instant he was spurred, to drop down on his
knees.  Well! Fletcher was riding past on Firefly, when I
stopped him and remarked what an extraordinary instinct
my hunter had, for lhe pointed at game like a dog!  Sir
Colin was, of course, incredulous at first, but as I had privately observed at covejy of partridges near, I turned accidentally that wayv anid when we came near them applied my
spurs.  Down dropped Dapper, and up rose the partridges,
so the thing no longer admitted of a doubt.  The old gentleman was instantly frantic to buy the horse on any terms;
so I agreed to an in-muense price, without, of course, intending to exact it, but one condition was, that we should immediately exchange steeds. This he was delighted to do, being
impatient to try the powers of his recent acquisition.  Soon
after we reached a st.ream-Dapper attempted to drink, and
Sir Colin spurred hiim on-so, as usual, he fell on his knees,
in thle water, while I galloped off in triumph, exclaiming,'ilHolloa! Fletcherl  th'at's a salhnon l?'
"Lord de Mainbury,>' said Eleanor, "how many foxes were
put out of their misery to-day?"'
" Only one! we set off the second time with a fine burst
over the hill of Benachray, skirted Glenalpine for several




OR THEE MARCH OFi INTIELLECT.         123
miles, and lost scent at Boghill; so the hounds did not find
again all day."
" They had no nose, owing to the damp ground," added
Mr. Grant.  " It was all that the huntsman could do to pre,
vent them going in full cry through Gaelfield, after the little
brown spaniel which followed Lady Susan's carriage."
" Surely they would not have attacked her?" cried she, in
accents of horror and alarm. " Poor dear Tiny! impossible!"' Depend upon it they would have discussed her in the
twinkling of a bed-post," answered Mr. Grant; "hounds will
attack anything /  Did you never hear that a pack in Ireland
once devoured an old woman?"
" They could only be Irish hounds to commit such a blunder!" said Eleanor, laughing
" How very sad," observed Miss Murray.  "People should
not hunt if such things are likely to happen."
"I hope the whole pack was hanged'" exclaimed Lady
Susan, indignantly.
"Riders included? we should have all deserved it if' dear
Tiny' had suffered to-day," replied Mr. Grant, watching his
cousin's angry countenance.  " She had a narrow escape."
" I don't believe a word of it!-you are in jest! Now do
not play upon }my feelings, but tell me truly, was dearest
Tiny in real danger?"
" Imminent, I assure you! Hounds are known to kill
dogs sometimes, and cats often. I have observed an old
woman, spectacles on nose, knitting at her cottage-door, with
poor puss purring by her side-quite a pastoral scene-and
the hounds have made a meal of her before we could cry
Tally-ho.'
" Of the old woman?" exclaimed Miss Murray, in accents
of consternation."
" To be sure!" interposed Eleanor, preventing Mr. Grant
from setting her right.  " Nothing was left but the knittingpins and spectacles, which I have seen frequently.  Are they,
by good chance, in your pocket, Mr. Grant?"': De Mainbury! I remember well what an escape you
once made at Beverley," said Sir.- Richard.  "Having outstripped the whole field, and come in for the death, you dismounted to secure the brush, and were exercising your whip
in fine style, when suddenly the hounds left the fox, and
turned upon you!  A minute more would have done the
business! When I came up with the huntsman, two or three
were already at your throat, and once down, there could have




124                MODERN SOCIETY,
been no escape. I never desire to see any one in such a predicament again!"
"' That reminds me of a story which was told many years
ago," began Sir Colin Fletcher, in a slow, methodical tone,
which gained little attention from the lively circle around.
"' It seemed, you understand, as far as I could ascertain, to
be very authentic; at least the circumstances were never
satisfactorily contradicted; and though I have told them
frequently in many companies, there is seldom any one to be
met with who has not heard the incidents already, which
proves how universally they must be credited. Many of the
party here may know the particulars, yet    "
" Pendarvis!" said Mr. Grant, breaking through Sir Colin's
endless preface. "6 What could induce you to let that fat
farmer ride ahead of you all day! His horse's heels must
have laved the mud into your very face. I see him now, in
my mind's eye, riding on the horse's neck, and pommelling
his flanks with a monstrous pair of spurs. Did any one ever
see such a moving mountain!"
" If a house had stood in his way, he would have knocked
it over," added the Colonel.  " I believe he had fifteen falls
to-day."
" As for Foley," continued Mr. Grant, " he goes to cover
in review order, and the first splash on his boots sends him
home."
" You call yourself a sportsman, Grant!" retorted the
Major; " but I appeal to Sir Richard, whether this was the
proper order of precedence, as I saw it to-day: The fox first,
our friend here following, and the hounds last!"
"' Foley! name your place and hour!" said Mr. Grant,
joining in the laugh.  " But here comes Sir Alfred Douglas,
Bart., of Douglas Priory-M. P. that shall be.  The most
distant roll of his chariot-wheels has something so aristocratic
in the sound, that I cannot be mistaken."
" I remember once being told that Pope Clement, or Innocent the Fifteenth, issued a bull, setting forth that the
American Indians were to be considered human beings,"
said Eleanor; "but from all I hear, it would be desirable if
his Holiness were alive now, to remind Sir Alfred that there
are others of the same species as himself."
6" Has he really become so proud?" asked Miss Murray.
"It seems but yesterday when I remember him such a sweet,
clever little boy."
"Fancy Douglas a sweet little boy, with a rattle and red




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.           125
shoes! That could never have been possible! He must have
been born old," said Mr. Grant; "but never believe anything
you hear of Sir Alfred, Miss Murray, and only half what you
see, for there is no man on earth less understood."
"I can only say that he is the finest speaker in public, and
the scantiest talker in private, that I know. He and I never
hit it together at all," observed Major Foley, arranging his
favorite curl at the looking-glass. "Nothing could be finer,
or more unexpected certainly, than that burst of eloquence
when he was presented to his constituents. It seemed amazing, too, how frankly he declared his sentiments, though not
very prudent. Considering the divided state of the voters, I
could have managed to humbug them better, with a very little
ambiguity and circumlocution, which was all wanting in the
speech of yesterday."
" For a ready answer I would back Sir Alfred against the
field anywhere," observed Sir Richard. "He is sharp and
short, like a carving-knife."
The gentlemen now gathered in a group at the window,
and entered on an elaborate criticism of the baronet's four
posthorses; for no quadruped that ever entered a stable is
above or below the attention of sportsmen, who can trace a
look of decayed grandeur in many an old, broken-down hack,
and who find entertainment in discussing the points of an
ancient veteran with scarcely a leg to stand on.
Meantime Eleanor stole a glance into the mirror-the
three Miss Cliffords each instinctively altered the position
-of their bonnets-the Miss Montagues closed a scrap-book
with which they had been occupied-Miss Murray put on
her spectacles-Lady Susan called all the dogs around her,
and an air of general expectation prevailed throughout the
room, while Matilda alone remained externally still; yet her
color rose to the most vivid carnation, and she bent more intently over her drawing, while past emotions rushed into her
memory with such fresh remembrance, that it seemed but
yesterday since she had believed herself an object of preference to Sir Alfred. A pang shot through her mind when
she anticipated that now, probably, like Mr. Grant, he would
meet her as a comparative stranger; and so much had been
said of his pride and reserve, that she neither expected, nor
very much desired, a renewal of their former intimacy,
besides that she had now learnt not to hope for better memories in her old friends than the habits of society rendered
prdebile.




126               MODERN SOCIETY,
When the door was thrown open, Sir Richard hastened
forward, with animated cordiality, to welcome his distinguished guest. "Ha! my good friend! I rejoice to see you
here," cried he, seizing Sir Alfred's hand, who patiently resigned it to be shaken.  "Any news from town?"
The baronet replied in a low, confidential voice, and aftei
making a distant bow to Eleanor and the other ladies, he
continued in deep conversation with Sir Richard for a considerable time, while Matilda quietly took the opportunity to
make her remarks upon the change which a year had made
upon his person. Sir Alfred's dress seemed remarkable for
nothing but simplicity. His appearance was dignified, but
the expression of his countenance perfectly frank and open.
His eyes, large, dark, and intelligent, had an expression in
them of deep and serious thought, which harmonized well
with the strongly-marked character of his forehead, and his
clear, olive complexion had become, darkened by the summer's sun of Italy since Matilda last saw him.  No studied
attitudes, nor affected grimaces, betrayed any vanity or littleness of mind, but he acted and spoke with a degree of
calm self-possession' which nothing could disturb, while his
mind became evidently absorbed in whatever subject occupied his attention at the moment.  Matilda looked next at
Sir Richard, and was amused to observe the contrast, for
such a rapid variety of expressions flitted across his features
during the progress of their interview, that she even fancied
it might be possible to fill up the conversation, when alternate surprise, incredulity, pleasure, and regret, all appeared
successively on her uncle's countenance.  The subject evidently was political, and Sir Richard seemed from the broken
sentences which Matilda overheard, to be eagerly urging on
Sir Alfred the necessity for still greater energy in canvassing the neighborhood.  "Active opponents,"-" Unfair advantages,"-" Crush them  at once,"-" Promises of no
avail,"-" Public duty,"' &c., &c., &c.  Sir Alfred's short,
decided answers, though they often made Sir Richard laugh,
seldom appeared to be satisfactory, for he invariably returned
to the charge with growing animation.'; Interests of our
party at hazard," —'  Pledged to do your utmost,"-" Country
at stake."
" Sir Richard, what a gentleman can do I shall; he that
would do more is none! Of course public business cannot
go on without dinners; but my do-er,. as you call him in
Scotland, had carte blanche to give as many at the King's




Oa TEE MARC}EH OF' INTELLECT.          127
Arms as he chose.  I hope, therefore, that my free and independent constituents have enjoyed abundance of the usual
fare on these occasions —soiled table-cloths, steel forks, and
cold lobsters.  They shall hear imy sentiments on all occasions without dissguise or evasion, clearly and fully stated,
because there is nothing in them to conceal, but I shall not
on any account stand up, like a school-boy before his tutors,
to be catechised."
" Well, I am thankful to have got over much of my life
in better times than you will ever see again," observed Sir
tichard, who was'a very mournful politician, though cheerful on every other subject.  "The change is great! but you
young ien must conform to the spirit of the age.  The
people require to be propiti-ated-'
"I Trust me on that score!' They are like the bear, who
showed his teeth when the traveller seemed afraid, but when
a stick was held up he began to dance.  We who are accustomed to command, ensure compliance more certainly
by preserving our tone of authority than by relinquishing it."
Sir Richard became outrageous at this reply, and Matilda
heard a prodigious accession of energy in her uncle's tone,
-" Anarchy in the country! —immediate revolution!-rally
round the constitution   -'
"Keep all that for the hustings next Friday, Sir Richard; we shall want a little oratory there, and you are wasting a great deal of good Clarm on mne, which would do
admirably for the mob.  Depend upon it, no man loses in
the estimation of even the lowest rabble by keeping up the
dignity of that station which he is born to fill.  It is scarcely
worth while to be so anxious about anything in this world
as you wish me to be respecting my election; but depend
upon it I shall do my utmost, and moreover get up a speech
upon any pattern you choose to bespeak for the occasioneither neat and appropriate, or eloquent and impassioned."
" But is there any truth in that report you told me from
Downing Street?"
" I never deal in mere reports," answered Sir Alfred,
strolling towards the fire.  " A man who circulates false news
should be put to death."
"' That would cause an alarming mortality here," exclaimed
Mr. Grant.  " How could you furnish conversation, Douglas?
for we must talk.7'
" fe nb'en vois pas Ia necessitM," replied Sir Alfred.
"In fact, a false report often suits my purpose fully bet



128                MODERBN IOCIETY,
ter than a true one," said Mr. Grant, "because I have firs
the advantage of telling it, and then follows the pleasure of
contradicting it."
"What shocking profligacy!" interrupted Eleanor.  " No
wonder Miss Murray stares like an astonished cassowary! I
am glad the Doctor is not within ear-shot! We are continually hearing marriages announced which are to take
place immediately, and the next day they are gone off upon
settlements; but who ever guessed that they were of your
counterfeit coinage!'
"Many of them  are much better arranged than the
matches people makie for themselves!  I wish no one would
ever marry till they have consulted me, for I never saw a
happy couple yet without thinking that one of the parties
might have done better."
" I am positively resolved against a sportsman," said
Eleanor, " for it must be tiresome remaining a disconsolate
widow at home all winter, except during a hard frost. Members of Parliament also shall be blackballed on my list, because they annually abscond from their families during the
greater part of the year."
"6 I shall endeavor to lose my election," said Sir Alfred,
dryly.
"It would be much better if you did," replied Eleanor,
laughing.': I have so often, during my long experience, been
disappointed when gentlemen who had a prodigious reputation for cleverness got into Parliament, and were expected
to be great orators; I generally watch for their maiden
speeches, expecting a blaze of eloquence, and seldom see more
than this,'An honorable member, whose name we could not
learn,-Sir Alfred Douglas, we believe,-said a few words,
which were inaudible under the gallery.'"
Matilda stole a look from her drawing at Sir Alfred, and
a brilliant smile illuminated her countenance, while she
watched to discover how he bore her cousin's raillery. It
was instantly evident that he had not been previously aware
she was present, and that her appearance at Barnard Castle
was no less interesting than unexpected, for he started, when
her eyes caught his, made a few hasty steps forward, and actually colored with astonishment and pleasure. The next
moment, however, he suddenly checked himself back again,
made a distant bow of recognition, and retreated to his former station by the fire, though his eyes yet rested on the
countenance of Matilda Howard, with a sort of fascination




OR THE MARCHi OF INTELLECT.          1-29
wLbich he seemed vainly endeavoring to resist. A natural
smile dimpled her cheek, and played on her lips for a moment, rendering her modest countenance more than usually
lovely; for there was always a peculiar beauty in Matilda's
smile. Eleanor's indicated nothing but hilarity, while hers
was full of sensibility, which was not diminished on the present occasion by the emotion with which she perceived that
her appearance was not a matter of so much indifference to
Sir Alfred as she previously anticipated.
Matilda had not believed it was possible for any event in
life to cause him so much agitation as he testified at that
moment, and her own was not less. The flashing glance of
his eye reminded her of former times, and raised a transient
belief that he was unchanged, and that she had not been
mistaken in his former sentiments.  Even his sudden retreat
did not entirely alter her opinion, for Matilda knew that Sir
Alfred always exercised his own mind in perpetual subjection, and entertained a paramount desire to conceal his feelings from  ordinary observation.  Strangers might have
imagined that if any person suddenly dropped down dead at
his feet he would have remained as cold and sejf-possessed
as before; but there were a few people in the world, and Matilda had formerly been one of them, from whom he sought
no concealment, and to whom he revealed the inmost depths
of a mind which glowed with feeling and sensibility.  She
had often blamed herself for wasting time on the remembrance of one whose absence was in itself a mark of indifference; and general report had led her to believe him so entirely changed, that with all the strength of a well-exercised
and well-principled mind, Matilda had resolutely crushed
out of her heart every thought that could endanger her peace.
She had ceased to think of him except as an interesting acquaintance, in whose conversation there had been a degree
of intellectual fire and vigor never equalled by any one
since; and she now resolved not hastily to believe what her
heart and her hopes suggested.'" You see Sir Alfred is very constant!" whispered Eleanor
to her cousin, when a noise of talking prevented the possibility of her being heard.'" How!" exclaimed Matilda, starting.
"Did you not observe! when I threatened never to marry
a member of Parliament, he immediately wished to lose his
election. Nothing could be more decided.": What a salutary lesson for me, to distrust my own ima
6*




130                 MIODERN SOCIETY,
pressions," thought Matilda, as the remembrance arose to
her mind of the tears Miss Murray had often shed in describing her long-lost sister's tragical end.  " I must avoid sucle
a fate; and that can best be done by continuing to doubt;
for no girl's affections are ever irretrievably given to another,
until she previously believes herself to be loved. It is our
nature to return tenfold what is bestowed, but no more to be
first in attachment, than for the moon to give light before
the sun has shone upon it. Many a time have I sympathized'over the withering disappointments of others, who have confided their sorrows to me, but now I must be the faithful
guardian of my own happiness, and allow no vain fancies to
cheat me of my tranquillity.'"
Nothing gives us so low an estimate of our own attractions
as being in the society of those we most desire to please.
Matilda's mind, however, became calm in proportion as she
succeeded in convincing herself that Sir Alfred's had been an
almost boyish fancy, when she was scarcely yet grown up,
but that now he had probably seen many superior to herself,
and could not long' continue to feel the interest in her which
for a moment he betrayed; and being resolved at least to
think on the subject no more, she again endeavored to fix
her attention on the gay absurdities of Mr. Grant, who had
a sort of laisser aller in his conversation, which rendered him
infinitely diverting.
" How very handsome your poodle looks to-day, Miss FitzPatrick! Is it true that you have Blanco bathed every
morning in eau de Cologne?  His coat is really as smooth
and white as floss silk! What an acquisition he would be
at those taverns in London where a dog is made to walk
round the table during dinner, that the company may all
wipe their knives and forks on his back!"
"' Mr. Grant," replied Eleanor, in a remonstrating voice,
"I generally make a point of trying to believe what you tell
me."
"Well! so you ought!-I appeal to Sir Alfred if that is
not the case. Douglas! You have seen it done fifty times?"
" Not above twenty!" replied the Baronet, ironically, " and
I always contrived to have the advantage over everybody
else, because I doubled up the tail!"
" Now! of all the obligations in life there is none equal to
being thoroughly backed out in a story. Sir Alfred, you may
tell anything you please for a month to come with impunity




Olt THE MARCH Or INTALLUOT.             11
as I shall vouch for it, even if there is a tongue thrust into
every other cheek in the room."
"Very generous indeed! but I greatly fear youtr credit
might be easily overdrawn; and indeed I thought it was a
little shaken yesterday with your account of Sir Evan's
scanty housekeeping, and the starving inice running about
with tears in their eyes.)'
"But did I tell you of my honored uncle's favorite
egg soup?-an, egg is boiled every day for himself, and the
water is distributed to the family.  If a bottle of wine is
ever drawn in the house, too, he has it labelled' Poison,' to
prevent any one but himself from venturing to taste it. No
wonder his daughter Mary was glad to marry anybody,
poor girl."
" A  pr oos, have no new marriages come out lately?" inquired Lady Susan Danvers;  "they are few and far between
at present."
"I refer you to Mr. G-rant for the last assortment of gossip," replied Eleanor; he telegraphs Edinburgh for all the
events that have or ought to have occurred there, and has a
perpetual supply of the newest matches on hand. "
" Every one quite certain," added he, in a tone of decision.
"The only thing to be regretted is, that I am not on the list
myself."
This was said with his usual careless off-hand tone, in
which Matilda traced nothing but total indifference; yet
Eleanor instantly colored, giving a little conscious laugh,
and a coquettish toss of her head, which would have been
infinitely amusing to any one less truly interested in all her
feelings than her cousin, who regretted to observe Miss FitzPatrick so blindly unaware of the change which had evidently arisen in her ibrmer lover.
" I am told," said Miss Charlotte Clifford,  that there are
nine-and-thirty marriages on the tapis at present."
"Suppose we make the fortieth!" exclaimed Mr. Grant,
eagerly.
"Now, Charlotte, what do you say?" cried Eleanor, laughing; " this is rather a public declaration, certainly!"
"I generally propose to every young lady during her first
season, if I am sure of being' refused, because then she can
boast with truth of having rejected somebody."
"But that happens to Charlotte every day! We know of
at least a dozen last winter, and I only: wonder what would




1f02 ~:            MODERN SOOCIETY,
be good enough-peers, officers, authors, travellers! — she
must be waiting forea Lord of Session!"
Lady Susan now drew her chair forward and assumed an
aspect of the deepest attention, while Mr. (Grant, with a degree of gravity and importance suited to the occasion, drew
out from his pocket a numerous collection of old letters.
"Are we quite among friends?" said he, carefully turning
over several papers.  " The strictest secrecy must be observed. Douglas, pray step aside, because you are such a
gossip, that my news will be repeated all over the country by
to-morrow."
"' I don't care who marries, provided nobody marries me!"
replied Sir Alfred, looking accidentally towards Eleanor.
c I publish the banns of matrimony, then, between Miss
Brown and Mr. Smith-that is positive, having been declared
last week!"'
" Who are they?" asked Lady Susan, anxiously.
" How should I know? very excellent people, I dare say,
and extremely suitable!"
" There was a Miss Brown, or White, or Grey, or some
such color, that I remember once rather admiring and bringing into fashion at Cheltenham," said Colonel Pendarvis;
"' but it was nearly two years ago, so she must be quite pass~e
now."
" For my part I hate new beauties!" observed Mr. Grant,
with an arch look at his cousin. "I never thoroughly admire
any face till I have been accustomed to it for eight or ten
years."
": Pshaw, Mr. Grant! now tell us of somebody whose name
at least we know," continued she, impatiently.  " What does
it signify to me whether such people as these marry or
not?"
" But, Lady Susan, if those in whom you are interested
will not marry, how can I help it?  Let me see-the list is
only begun! A brother of the Queen of Naples, to the
Grand Duke of Baden's half-sister-that is important! we
are getting into high life now! Lady Susan Dan —--— oh!
pardon me!   — hem-not yet announced —hemsplendid alliance-hem-long attachment —um-magnificent settlements and jewels —"
"Ah, Mr. Grant! this is not fair! you are become a
fortune-teller rather than a newsmonger,"  interrupted
Eleanor. cc There are others of the present company who
might enlarge your list," added she, looking slyly from Miss




OR THE MARCH OF. INTELLECT.          133
Marabout, simpering on an opposite seat, to Mr. Armstrong,
who was humming the tune of "Meet me by moonlight!"
"I should like to know," said Matilda,' "how long this
world would last in the hands of a thorough gossip; because
every person must marry immediately, and die not very long
afterwards, to furnish themn with entertainment."
At length a dressing-bell rung, and the whole p5arty wero
dispersing to prepare for dinner, when Matilda hastily
stooped down to collect some of her drawing materials, which
had been scattered on the floor by Lady Susan's dogs. Supposing her to be gone, Colonel Pendarvis eagerly asked, in
accents of admiration, who she was; and before Matilda could
emerge from concealment, to effect an escape, Eleanor drew
a sketch which evidently pointed out to her own admirers in
what light she wished them to consider the original.
"cA cousin of mine! quite a saint, and very blue! You
have heard of my aunt, Lady Howard, who is a perfect polyglott of languages?-speaks Latin fluently-could tell if
there be a dot too many in Dr. Porson's essays, and asks
gentlemen whether they prefer the plays of Euripides or
Sophocles.  Her daughter is exactly such another-teaches
Sunday schools, and is quite in the good line. If you ask
her to dance a quadrille, she will answer with a text; and
only last week I saw her mooning at the window so long in
the evening that she is evidently trying to count whether the
stars are an odd or an even number."
Colonel Pendarvis shrunk into the farthest corner of the
sofa, and put up a screen, as if he were seeking protection
from such a terrific being as Matilda heard herself described.
Lord Alderby turned up his eyes with contempt, Major Foley shrugged his shoulders with horror, and Sir Alfred
calmly fixed his penetrating eyes on the heiress's laughing,
triumphant countenance.
" I deny the whole indictment, Eleanor!" said Matilda,
rising when she found it impossible any longer to avoid
being produced, though the necessity for coming so unexpectedly forward covered her with confusion.  Her bright
eyes sparkled with animation. her transparent complexion
glowed with more than its usual brilliancy, and an expression of modest sensibility added a charm to her countenance
which nothing could.have excelled. Hastily gliding out of
the room, she merely whispered to Eleanor, in a tone of
gentle reproach, " Defend me from a candid friend! You
deserve to be prosecuted for a libel!"




134                 MODERN SOCIETY,
So completely had the heiress's suitors understood their
cue, from what Eleanor said of her cousin, that not one in
the number ventured to express the admiration which could
not but be felt by them all, at her graceful appearance, except Mr. Grant, who exclaimed, with his usual independence
of thinking and speaking,
"Look to your laurels, Miss Fitz-Patrick!  I always
maintained there was no one fit to draw in a curricle with
you, except Miss Howard, and I think so still.  Now, gentlemen, let me rise to explain, on the present occasion, that
I like to see the ganme of life played with fairness, and as her
portrait was rather highly colored some minutes ago, I must
bear my testimony to having formerly talked to Miss Howard often without being one bit the wiser. We never discussed' that great Roman Emperor, Pliny the Second,' nor
did we quote either Dionysius of Halicarnassus on Gunpowder, or Professor Tiptoe's Essay on Greek Participles.
She was always verly lovely and interesting, but so improved
of late, that I scarcely recognized her in the morning, and
now my eyes are really quite dazzled by that beautiful apparition."
" So it appears, for you have been completely blinded,"
replied Eleanor: with an angry laugh.  "For my own part, to
say the truth, I never could see much to admire in Matilda."
" A: good-humored expression, for instance?" said Mr.
Grant, watching the heiress's, which was visibly irritated.
" If that be all, you might as well admire Miss Murray."
"So I do-! beyond measure! A country clergyman once
observed in his sermon, when I was present, that'a good
temper was an invcaluable blessing, worth five hundred Ca-year;'
and to those who can afford to pay for such a luxury, I really
think it must be.  Miss Murray seems rich in good qualities,-and ditto, I am convinced is Miss Howard."
"What an excellent plan it would be, if people's accoimplishments and good qualities could be sold by auction when
they are of no farther use!-Matilda, according to your way
of appraising her, might acquire a tolerable income, whereas
now she has none at all, and I could afford to part with several of mine."
"In fact, people are apt to do so very often when they
grow rich, and to part with some that I could not dispense
with, at any price.  But," added Mr. Grant, resuming his
usual tone of heedless vivacity, " the grapes are sour when
I talk of wealth, being so poor myself that it would make




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLEOT.            135
me bankrupt any day, if I went twice in succession to the
theatre."
" It is an infallible sign of people being rich when they
talk of poverty," said Eleanor;'those who suffer in earnest, try to conceal their necessities.  I suspect you must
have succeeded to some large addition of fortune lately, Mr.
Grant?"'" A legacy of six and eight pence; and I am trying to
live upon the interest," replied he, strolling towards the
door, and singing,
"How happy's the soldier that lives on his pay,
And spends half-a-crown upon sixpence a-day."
"Pray, Grant!" cried Colonel Pendarvis, following, "if
Sir Evan makes his exit from public life, leaving you
~10,000 a-year, what shall you do?'
" Spend ~20,000 a-year, of course!"
When Matilda had succeeded in cffecting her very rapid
retreat from the drawing-room, she was astonished to observe Mr. Armstrong following.  "Miss Howard," said he,
with a bitter smile, " you are not much more obliged to Miss
Fitz-Patrick for her attention and hospitalities than myself.
If you only say the word, we shall soon take the gilt off the
gingerbread,-you guess what I mean,-but remember that
Sir Robert Walpole said,' every man l  has his price.' I7
Matilda looked at her unexpected companion with surprise, and with a transient apprehension that he might be
slightly deranged; but nothing appeared on his countenance, except a prying expression in the very prominent
eyes with which he seemed endeavoring to read her thoughts.' Mr. Armstrong," said she, "   you suggest ideas to me which
I have no wish to entertain; and, in speaking of Miss FitzPatrick, remember in whose house we are."
"'Perhaps I know that rather better than you do, Miss
Howard. If you want to open that riddle, apply the proper
key.  The oracles long ago never spoke for nothing.  Consider what I say, and perhaps you may hereafter think more
wisely of it than now.'Better to flatter a fool than to fight
him.'
After saying these words, Mr. Armstrong wallred away,
singing the old Jacobite tune, " Geordie sits in Charlie's
chair," words he had a constant habit of humming to himself whenever Eleanor became particularly repulsive in her
manner to him, which was certainly not seldom.




186                MODERN SOCOIET$Y
CHAPTER XI.
"The graceful tear that's shed for others' wo(."
MIVATILDA did not often retire to the privacy of her own
room, without devoting some portion of time to the serious
consideration of all that had passed within and around her.
She usually enlivened the natural cheerfulness of her own
mind by a remembrance of what had pleased her taste or
amused her fancy, but, above aft, she carefully recalled
everything that might enlighten her understanding or improve her heart; and on the present occasion, when she
stirred the fire, and sat down in solitude to ruminate over
the days which had elapsed since she last occupied that
apartment, a variety of thoughts and emotions crowded into
her mind.  Mr. Armstrong's language and conduct had,
during their earliest acquaintance, excited her distrust, as
she saw that, from personal pique on his own part, he wished
in some way to make her a tool for his revenge.  She greatly
doubted whether his power was equal to his inclination in
working the mischief he threatened against Eleanor; and
though she perfectly understood his insinuations on the subject, no possible way occurred to her imagination which could
give them the slightest probability. Not a thought could be
wasted for one moment on the idea of purchasing his secret,
if he had one; and being more than half convinced that his
hints were about as unfounded as the promised discoveries
of the celebrated Mr. Ady, she dismissed them all at once
from her recollection.
Matilda's next reflections were directed, with a smile of
irresistible derision, to the remembrance of her own surprise
and mortification at discovering the entire oblivion to which
Mr. Grant seemed to have consigned their former intimacy;
and she readily acknowledged that it ought to have been
anticipated in one whose acquaintance was so universal,
who formed intimacies every day, and might forget them as
easily, and whose notions of friendship perhaps resembled
those of B * $ * * 1, when he once remarked, that if he lost




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            137
a friend, he had only to walk down St. James' street and
take another.
There remained but one subject which Matilda's young
and inexperienced mind was unwilling to approach, even in
the silence and solitude of her secret retirement, and which
she postponed to the very last, because it filled her with confusion and perplexity. To a well-regulated disposition like
hers, the earliest dawn of a sentiment till then unknown, and
of which the depth and the influence had been as yet unfelt,
must ever excite a salutary apprehension that the heart may
lose that harmony and cheerfulness which have hitherto been
its most precious ornaments; and therefore Matilda, with all
the powers of reason and reflection, long struggled against
the conviction which formerly forced itself upon her mind,
that she was an object of peculiar interest to Sir Alfred
Douglas. In the secure'foundation and the simple structure of her happiness, love had seemed like a rich decoration, which embellished the existence of others, but which
could never be meant for her; and feelings which might
hereafter be the blessing or the misery of her whole earthly
existence, must be cautiously entertained, lest her future
life should be deservedly embittered by remorse as well as
by disappointment. Delicacy and prudence prohibited her
from thinking of any man as a lover, until he gave ample
reason to believe that the sentiment originated with himself;
but though her affections were not to be won unsought, there
had been much in the manner of Sir Alfred once to warrant
her belief in his attachment. Attentions, which in an ordinary person might have been scarcely remarkable, became
conspicuous from him, on account of his singular reserve to
other ladies; and he possessed a peculiar tact, by which his
most trifling actions acquired meaning and expression, as if
they intimated that he cared not to be understood or regarded by any one but herself. His voice had always, latterly, assumed a different tone, in speaking to her, from that
with which he addressed another; his manner then testified
that sensibility which he concealed from every one else, and
his conversation had been frequently filled with a recollection of her favorite expressions and opinions, which seemed
to be treasured up in his mind with a degree of interest and
pleasure such as lie appeared ashamed himself to acknowledge. There was nothing in all this which pledged his
honor, and Matilda might have succeeded in persuading
herself, as she resolutely attempted to do, that he merely




1 38                 ODERN SOCIETY,
preferred her society on account of the transient amusement
it afforded him; but Sir Francis Howard by no means inclined to take that view of the subject.  He constantly rallied his daughter about the crest of the Bloody Heart and
the return of the Black Douglas, thus keeping up recollections which her own good sense would, if possible, have banished entirely, for hers was not a mind which could long be
contented to dwell in the fool's paradise of imaginary hap-'
piness.
Matilda had been frequently warned, that it is customary,
in the present day, among many gentlemen: along with the
most marked attention, to make such enigmatical speeches to
young ladies as may either mean a profession of attachment
or a declaration of indifference, according as they are understood.  She had sometimes even laughed at instances which
were related to her of the ingenuity with which this can be
done, but yet she became aware, that in all cases of unhappy
self-deception, however justified by circumstanees, the lady
must bear the blame as well as the sorrow. Many of her own
friends had been fatally deceived into a permanent loss of
happiness by putting the construction which seemed to be intended upon such treachelrous expressions and equivocal conduct; but though5 Matilda did not imagine Sir Alfred Douglas to be capable of the vanitym   a nd selfishness whicil must
prevail ovfer honor and conscience in all who would seek an
attachinuet which.they meant inot to return, she felt fully impressed with the probability, fromn his so suddenly retiring,
after the first impulse of surprise at perceiving her, that
whatever his preference might once have been, it was now,
perhaps, extinguished and forgotten, while she acquitted herself from having been misled entirely by vanity, as Sir Francis had made the same mistake with herself, if indeed it,was
one.  MIatilda could not but at this moment reflect upon an
incident which deeply impressed her own mind two years before, with a consciousness of the danger there may be in implicitly trusting to any such accidental attentions as are met
with frequently in society.  Walking one day along Queen
Street with her friend, Miss Adelaide Montague, who was
then not much older than herself, they accidentally saw Colonel Pendarvis riding past on horseback; but immediately
on observing them, he reined in his beautiful steed, and rode
up.  It was Adelaide's first winter, during which she had
been a reigning beauty of the season, and the Colonel's assiduities were so conspicuous and incessant, that every tea-table




OR THE MARCHt OF INITELLECT.          139
in Edinburgh settled, without delay, exactly how much a-year
he h:d, or expected to have, as well as the day when his marriage was certainly to take place.  On the morning which
Matilda now remembered, Adelaide's eyes sparkled with animation at this unexpected rencontre, and the handsome Colonel spoke in a tone full of vivacity and pleasure.
i' Miss Montague! quite delighted to see you! What a
charming day! I am in perfect despair -! Our marching
orders are come for to-morrow, and I go with the first detachment.  We are all breaking our hearts, I assure you.
But one consolation is, that the head-quarters are to be at
~Brighton! Anything rather than Ireland.  A propos, you
will be diverted to hear that our sp.are Major is fairly caught
by your friend, Miss Wentworth.  I'm afiraid it's a lost case.
Good morning!  My best regards to Lady Montague and
your sister."
When Adelaide had acted over all the surprise and indifference which were suitable to the occasion, she took a smiling farewell of the lively Colonel, and hastened on. Matilda
felt her companion's arm weigh more heavily upon hers as
they proceeded, while the few remarks she made remained
unanswered, till at last she stole one single glance at Adelaide's face, and saw the consuming anguish which was
painted there. Miss Montague silently and rapidly pressed
her hand, when they reached home, and vanished into her
mother's house; but Matilda never afterwards forgot that
expression of mute despondency, and when, in society, she
heard the frequently repeated "wonder" how very soon
Adelaide Montague's looks had "gone off," and the constantly reiterated witticism, declaring that she now only
deserved the last syllable of her name, " laide," that scene
recurred to her thoughts, and she could neither wonder nor
smile; though from that hour it became forcibly impressed
on her mind how many might have fallen the unsuspected
victims of a too ready belief in the apparent preference which
may now be shown, in accordance with the usages of society,
but the real fallacy of which she felt that it was well for herself to know.  It had interested Matilda much that' morning
accidentally to witness the first meeting which took place
between them afterwards.  Colonel Pendarvis, with a polite
and graceful bow, expressing his fear that Miss Montague
might nolt do him the honor to recollect that he formerly
enjoyed the pleasure of, kno'wing her, and Adelaide's equally
well-bred'reply, that she perfectly remembered long ago




140                MODERN SOCIETY,
having been' introduced to him, yet Matilda could not but
observe also the bitter smile which followed his retreat, when
he bowed himself off; and earnestly did she now desire and
pray that such feelings as those of her friend were at that
moment might never be her own.
Her ruminations now painfully turned towards Eleanor,
in whom every blossom of good seemed to be entirely
withered beneath a blazing sunshine of prosperity. It was
with an emotion of pity rather than of displeasure, that she
remembered the language respecting herself which had been
so recently overheard; yet with still greater earnestness
than before, did Matilda wish to hasten from Barnard Castle,
and she determined on speedily writing to her mother, more
urgently, if possible, than she had already clone, entreating
to be recalled, and reiterating her request that Sir Francis
would come for her without delay, though she very much
suspected that her former messages to him on the same subject had never been delivered; and she was aware that he
felt much occupied with the prospect of her brother returning from England for the Christmas holidays, while Sir
Richard and Eleanor were also looking forward to the arrival
of the two young Fitz-Patricks from Oxford, neither of
whom had ever yet seen their sister's splendid inheritance.
Amidst the anxieties and perplexities thus crowding into
Matilda's mind, she dwelt with pleasing recollection on the
days passed at Gaelfield. They seemed like a verdant spot
in the arid desert around, when she thought of the sympathy and kindness, the cheerfulness and peace, which had
awaited her there, undisturbed by any apprehension of petty
insults from her capricious cousin, or by uncertainty with
respect to the sentiments of those around, or the conduct
she ought herself to adopt. Conversation and employment
were there so completely in accordance with devotion and
piety, that half the difficulty seemed to have disappeared of
preserving in her mind that continual desire of holiness,
and that incessant remembrance of her sacred hopes and
duties which are so incumbent on a Christian, and the deficiency of which, nevertheless, they have all such frequent
occasion to deplore. Her thoughts and feelings on that subject were then laid open without reserve to friends who
understood them, and could advise her, from long experience in every mental struggle and in every unforeseen difficulty; for all who have advanced, like them, in a Christian
oourse, must learn, by deep and afflicting experience, to




OR TILE MARCH OF INTELLECT.           14A
Eympathize in that perpetual combat of good and evil which
wars in every human heart where any grace exists; and
simple as was Miss Murray's mind on other subjects, she
could speak upon this with the knowledge and the authority
of long practice, and of frequent success. The strength was
not in herself, but she knew where to seek it with infallible
expectation; and she spoke of her experience, and of her
hopes, with the genuine eloquence of nature. When Miss
Murray described her unsophisticated feeling, it seemed to
Matilda like the voice of her own earliest childhood, for the
hymns and the texts which first delighted her infant mind
were those to which her aged companion continually referred, with unfading interest, as being the words which
constantly beguiled her time, as well as directed her conduct and thoughts.  The high tone of principle and of feeling which were hourly more developed by Dr. Murray, in
proportion as he learnt to appreciate the cultivated mind
and enlightened piety of his young companion, seemed to
Matilda as if he thus led her visibly onward in a Christian
course. Deeply had she lamented the necessity for leaving
a retreat of so much heartfelt serenity and real enjoyment,
to enter on the present scene of tumultuous amusement and
artificial pleasure; and though there appeared little as yet
to excite any grave disapprobation, even in the most censorious, there was a want of that reality in the feelings and the
conversation, which would have excited her confidence and
regard.
It was not a life of 1" cloistered indolence" which Matilda
would have preferred, because few young people enjoyed society more than herself, but she desired only to see it established more upon the Christian principle of kind feeling and
considerate recollection for others. Though there appeared
now more of temptation to levity and forgetfulness among
the gay scenes on which she seemed about to enter, than she
ever experienced before, Matilda reflected that they were not
her own voluntary choice, and that therefore she could confidently ask to be shielded amidst its dangers, and even venture to hope that her mind would be strengthened by the
difficulties she might yet have to conquer.
Eleanor informed her guests that the dressing-bell rung
only to intimate that there would be dinner in the course of
that evening, though she professed to be so liberal in her
hours, that it was impossible to say when; yet Matilda now
discovered that little time remained to prepare for the very




142                 MODERN SoCIE'TY
late period at which it was her cousin's whim  to dine, and
she roused herself to commence the duties of her toilette.
Nanny soon afterwards entered the room, and began hastily
arranging, or rather disarranging the dressing-table, while,
to Matilda's surprise, she rapidly opened and closed a succession of boxes and drawers without any apparent object,
and yet with a degree of nervous excitement and agitation
which could not but be obvious. It had been recently reported by old iMrs. Gordon, the housekeeper, that Martha,
being at last fully persuaded of her sister's indifference to
William Grey, had consented to accept of his frequently repeated offer, and that their wedding was to take place without delay.  This might in some measure account for a degree of incoherence and confusion in Nanny's manner, which
had lately become perceptible, though she mentioned her
sister's engagement some days before without any apparent
surprise or emotion. Persuaded as Matilda had always been,
that the poor girl was almost unconsciously attached to William, she pitied with her whole heart the misguided folly by
which Nanny had estranged, and finally lost his affections.
But though, in speaking on the subject to M1atilda, she once
confessed that her conduct towards her former lover had been
foolish, and that it now occasioned regret, there seemed besides, at that time to be somne unacknowledged anxiety and
distress on her mihd, totally unconnected with Martha and
William, of which Miss Howard knew nothing, and which
she appeared unable or unwilling to mention.  During the
drive from Gaelfield that day, Matilda now remembered that
Eleanor accidentally dropt some insinuations against Nanny,
and accused her of dishonesty; but thinking it was merely
her usual way of haranguing against servants, as if they were
all convicted thieves, or that it resulted from their peculiar
gool fortune if they were not, she paid very slight attention
to her cousin's words at the time.  Often had Matilda warned
the poor girl of her imprudence in many respects; but now
she thought only of her distress; yet as Nanny averted her
countenance, and evidently shunned observation, Matilda
proceeded to dress without immediately showing any consciousness of her presence, or of her singular proceedings
in the room.  Miss Howard possessed that feeling, so inseparable from sensitive.minds, that affliction must not be
hastily intruded upon; while no disparity of circumstances
made her feel entitled to forget that delicacy, and even that
respect, with which, while endeavoring to draw out the con



OR. THE MAItCH  OF'NTEILECT.         143
fidence of others, we must cautiously approach their sorrows.
She heard with commiseration and surprise a deep sob of
agony, which Nanny vainly attempted to choke back, and
she felt shocked to observe the tremulousness of her hands,
when there was occasion for her assistance; but desirous to
ascertain the extent of her distress before she spoke, Matilda
placed herself in such a position, that Nanny's countenance
became unconsciously reflected in the opposite mirror.Never was Matilda more startled and astonished than to
perceive the alteration which a short time had produced on
the youthful countenance which she now saw distorted with
suffering.  The color had entirely fled from Nanny's cheek,
her very lips had grown livid, and every feature of her face
seemed convulsed with weeping, so that it would scarcely
have been possible to recognize her. With an irresistible
impulse of surprise and sympathy, Matilda turned hastily
round, and taking the poor girl's hand, she earnestly inquired what could have happened to cause such overpowering distress.  A smothered, hysterical sob was all her reply,
and the unfortunate sufferer seemed too much exhausted even
to weep.  There was always a magnetic power in the tears
of others to draw forth those of Matilda, and her own eyes
overflowed at the sight of such intense suffering, while she
led Nanny towards a sofa, and placed herself upon it. Unniindful of Bliss Howard's desire that she should do likewise, the unfortunate girl seated herself on the ground at
iMatilda's feet, and covering her face with her hands, she
wept aloud.
" Nanny!" said Matilda, vainly trying to raise her, " tell
me what has happened!-say, if I can console you — rise
and sit here-let me know everything that has occurred.  I
pity you fronm my very heart already, but perhaps we may be
able also to assist you.  Let me advise you, if I can; or at
least let us pray together that you may find better comfort
than any earthly friend can brings"
" Oh) Miss Howard! I could not have lived till this hour
if it were not for the hope that you would feel for Ime," cried
Nanny, wringing her hands with a look of frightful agitation.
" My heart must have burst, if you had not asked me to
speak-oh! promise that you will not believe me guilty.
You knew me from my happiest days, before I ever entered
this house-do not cast me off at the first breath of suspicion.
Say only once that you will remain my friend, and I may
still preserve my senses."  Nanny paused with a wild hyM




144                MODERN SOClIETY,
terical laugh, and looked anxiously into Matilda's counte.
nance, while the color rushed for a moment over her face,
and as instantly retreated, leaving her, if possible, paler than
before.
" Trust me, Nanny," said Matilda, in a soothing tone, for
she was alarmed at the sight of such extraordinary agitation,
"I could not credit any stories against you; it would be a
sorrowful hour for me if I did! Can I forget that you were
Lady Olivia's favorite pupil-that your mother instructed
you at home —that you were always a diligent and grateful
girl!  Oh, no! you may have acted thoughtlessly, but I
colld make myself responsible, without a moment's hesitation, that you have done nothing really criminal."
Nanny clasped Miss Howard's hand in hers, and buried
her face on the sofa, unable to speak, while Matilda silently
waited till she had sufficiently recovered the command of
her voice, when, after some vain attempts to articulate, she
became at last able in broken sentences to make herself
understood.
"I am heart-broken, but not guilty," said she, in feeble
accents.  "They may destroy my good name, but they could
not make me forget imy duty. I can look you in the face,
Miss Howard, with as much innocence now as I ever did in
my happiest days: but to-morrow I am to leave this house
disgraced and miserable. All that was precious in life is
gone-my character has been blasted by those who wished
to humble me. I have found no pity, and no help.  Never
shall I forget the lessons of my childhood, and they have
preserved me now. I knew you would not believe their
cruel stories-you are the only person in this house who
will not.  Oh! when my mother hears it all-when Martha
is told the worst-it will break their hearts!-yet they must
know it is false. And William, too! what does he think?but that is no matter now!"
At these last words Nanny clasped her hands over her
face, while large hot tears slowly coursed each other down
her cheeks, and she became silent.
"Nanny! it cannot be so hopeless, surely? I believe you
to be innocent of this calumny, whatever it is," cried Matilda
warmly, for she saw that this assurance alone seemed to have
any power in composing her agitated companion. "Tell me
all, and depend upon it justice shall be done. Miss FitzPatrick must be informed of the circumstances without de.
lay, and she will do what is right on the occasion."




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            145
"' No! no!" replied Nanny, despondingly.," Her ears are
already poisoned against me.  This has not been the business of a day, and those who contrived my ruin have completed it; they convinced both Sir Richard and my young
lady that I was always worthless and dishonest. Various
trinkets have lately been missing in this house, especially
from  Sir Richard's cabinet and Miss Fitz-Patrick's jewelbox.  Some of these were yesterday found concealed in a
flower-stand, and I air  accused of having secreted them
there.  It was even said that William, who came every
morning to water the plants, had taken that opportunity to
carry themn off, and many of the most valuable are still missing.  The bitterest stroke of all has been that his good name
should be injured through me, and his place taken from him.
We met to-day, Miss Howard, —he came to comfort me,-to
say that he had got employment at Sir Evan's,-to know if
he could be of any service, —to propose that he should break
it all to my mother —but the sight of him, after what has
happened, was worse than death.  Martha will make him
happy, and she deserves his affection,-I never did, and
least of all now."'I shall speak to Miss Fitz-Patrick this very evening.
You must not suffer an hour longer than can be helped; remain in my room till dinner is over, and depend upon it I
shall bring you comfort; there must be some cruel mistake,
and my cousin will rectify it at once."
Nanny closed her eyea, and mournfully shook her head.
"You are as kind as I expected, Miss Howard! very kind!
words cannot say what I feel,-but no one can help me, for
the web is stronger than you think. Pauline has often been
in the habit of wearing niy young mistress's shawls; she
went out last night in one of thema,-her conduct became improper, and she was in very bad company.  Stories were
repeated to Miss Fitz-Patrick of what passed on that occasion;
and Pauline has contrived to persuade every one that it was
I, and not herself, who appeared at that hour. I remained
alone in my room all the evening, suffering great distress of
mind on other accounts, but that was nothing to what has befallen me since.  I had lately avoided been seen, so no one
can testify that I was really at home. I had found out my
folly in many ways, and repented of it, but nothing can clear
me now. I am bowed down to the very dust with shame and
sorrow.  My mother's gray hairs will be dishonored, —my
sister's name is disgraced, and I dare no.t even ask to be




~14&          -~~MODERN -S0CIETY;
laid beside my father in the grave.  Oh! what shall I do,
Miss Howard?  The whole world is in darlkness now! Will
no gleam of light ever shine on me again?"
Matilda felt a nameless apprehension steal over her
thoughts as she saw the wild tumult of Nanny's mind, the
increasing incoherence of her manner, and the burning hectic
which glowed on her cheek, and which lighted up her eye
with unnatural brightness.  The gong had sounded for dinner long before she left off endeavoring to bring peace and
composure to the broken spirit beside her.  Matilda's words
of comfort fell like flalces of snow on a burning desert, so
soft and so refreshing was all that she said to the suffering
mind that it was her desire to cheer; and she did not leave
Nanny without obtaining a promise, given with some degree
of serenity, that she would retire to bed, after seeking for
peace and support where alone it can never fail to be sufficient.




Olt THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.           1-47
CHAPTER XII.
Sedentary- weavers of long talt 
Give me the fidgets, and my patience' Fails.
WHEN Matilda entered the drawing-room, the whole gay
Marty had assembled, forming a brilliant contrast to the scene
she so recently left.  Lively groups were scattered about the
room, all apparently animated by the highest spirits; and
she looked around to ascertain if there was any individual
with whom she felt sufficiently acquainted to place herself;
but all were already engaged, or else comparative strangers, and Eleanor was so surrounded by her satellites as to
be quite unapproachable; therefore, feeling very much like
some person who had dropt from the. clouds, and belonged to
nobody, Matilda quietly glided into a chair, as near her
cousin as possible, and began examining a volume of prints,
to diminish the awkwardness of sitting alone and unnoticed.
Meantime she stole an intelligent glance around, to observe
what was passing, and felt as completely am fait in reading
the plot of all that was going on, and as far removed from
taking an active part in it, as if she had been seated in a
side box at the opera.  Lady Montague and Mrs. Clifford
appeared to be in deep and consequential conference, probably comparing the relative prices of their milliners' bills, or
else each praising her own daughter, in a confidential tone, to
the other, and boasting of the brilliant talents and prospects
of their respective sons.  Sir Richard occupied the whole
fire, which was large enough to have roasted an ox, but he
contrived to spread himself entirely over it, holding by the
button Dr. ilurray, to whom he was eagerly demonstrating
on the subject of politics. Mr. Grant had placed himself
beside Miss Murray, and seemed for once to be talking gravely
and in earnest, with a degree of respectful deference towards
his aged companion, which, in Matilda's estimation, did him
honor.  Eleanor continued to be hemmed in by a cordon of
beaux-, sach of whom seemed to rival all the otherol in the




14 8               MODERN SOCIETY,
brilliancy of his own sallies, and in the readiness of his laughter at hers. Not far off was a contrast to this noisy coterie.
Sir Alfred Douglas had retired to a distant corner of the
room, externally in a state of suspended animation, though
an unconscious knitting of his brow seeemned to indicate that
his mind at the moment was not so inactive as his body. His
eyes were half closed, and overshadowed by the dark clusters
of his hair; his head was thrown back; his arms folded, and
his legs stretched out to their fullest extent, so that Matilda
could have laughed to see how impregnably he had fortified
himself against the possibility of being invaded by any one.
Before long, however, she had reason to suspect that her estimate of fashionable intrepidity was too low, for Miss Charlotte Clifford evidently intended, by a daring enterprize, to
carry the outworks; and she was amused to observe, when
Sir Alfred first became aware of that young lady's approach,
a momentary smile that glittered only in his eyes, and the
sly humor with which he observed the proceedings of his unexpected assailant.
" What an enchanting day this was, Sir Alfred;" said she.
dropping accidentally into a neighboring chair.
"Indeed! I am glad it pleased you."
"Of course it did! we had a west wind and sunshine all
day."
"Had we?  Now who noticed all that?  You never could
have observed so much yourself?"
" I am half dead, Sir Alfred, this morning, with the fatigue of riding to Gaelfield."'
" I can't help it!;'
" Was that a new britschska you came in this morning?
What a variety of equipages, I am told, you sport! Pray
tell me how many?"
"I shall have them counted some day, and let you know."
"Do you mean to hunt at Melton this year?"
"No! Do you?"
"Pshaw, Sir Alfred! what nonsense you talk!"
"Merely for the sake of contrast, that I may be as different as possible from you."
"Now that is quite polite and proper!  I shall repeat
what you have said to every person in the house, because
civil speeches are not supposed to be your forte. How agreeable it always makes people when they go to the Continent!"
" You have never been there I believe?"
"No! but I have a cousin-german at Paris. By the




OR THE MAlhRCH OF INTELLECT.          149
way, one's cousins- German should all come from Vienna or
Dresden."
" Your geography is all astray, Miss Clifford! Did you
never hear that Dresden is in China?  I am sure you might
know better, when we dine every day off Dresden China."
" So we do! How very strange that I -   A propos, you
will be delighted to hear that Mr. Grant, Who can prove any
two people that he pleases to be related, was showing us this
morning, that you are actually a Scotch cousin of Eleanor's."
"' How glad she must be! Miss Fitz-Patrick has something nowz to boast of."
" Yes! she will probably inscribe on her tomb-stone,' Here
lies the cousin of Sir Alfred Douglas.' Talking of that, did
you admire Pere la Chaise?'"
"I am not very apt to admire,': answered he, turning a
laughing eye towards Miss Charlotte herself; "'all seen,' as
Lord Byron says,'but nought admired.'"
Matilda had been listening to the whole of this dialogue
with infinite diversion, and suddenly looked up, while her
countenance sparkled with so much archness and vivacity,
that it caught even Eleanor's notice; but she hastily dropt
her eyes on the album again, when she unexpectedly perceived that Sir Alfred Douglas was intently observing her.
"What have you got there so very amusing, Matilda?"
exclaimed the heiress, in a tone of curiosity.  " Did ever
any one behold such a student? Dr. Johnson was a joke to
you! but dinner waits, and we positively cannot allow of that
book being brought to table, which would be done, I dare
say, if you durst."
" I know of several excellent boarding-schools for young
ladies, where that is actually insisted on," observed Lady
Montague.  " My daughter Maria, at Elysium  House, was
always obliged to learn her Italian exercise while she breakfasted, and her Euclid during the intervals of dinner. The
girls walked out in pairs, one guiding her companion along
the path, while the other read aloud from the best works on
science and natural history; besides which, the French governess repeated verses to them all the time they dressed.
Nothing could be more admirable than the whole system, and
I only lamented being obliged to take my daughter away,
because of that long unaccountable illness she had, which has
never entirely left her. It is, I must say, a great mortification to me, that, with so many accomplishments, she can
scarcely leave her sofa, and that, with a perfect knowledge




:$  MODERN SOCIETY,
of every language in Europe, she has hardly strength to
speak even in English."
"The Manchester cotton-weavers, with their sixteen hours
of labor a-day, are nothing to this," cried Mr. Grant, laughing.  "When I get into Parliament, my first exploit shall
be to present a petition from the distressed young ladies of
Great Britain, praying to be relieved from excessive taxation
on their health, their spirits, their time, and their understandings."
After a long procession had moved to the dining-room,
and every preliminary arrangement was happily settled, so
that no lady should be too near the door, or too far from the
fire, or above or below her proper place-and after Lord de
Mainbury had been called up, and Mr. Armstrong received
a hint to go down, order seemed to be in some degree rising
out of confusion, and Matilda found herself seated next to
Sir Colin Fletcher. Oppbsite was Sir Alfred Douglas, but
as no attempt had been made on his part to approach her,
she at once determined on encouraging the conviction of his
indifference, and on preserving her own by the consciousness
of his.
"No one will venture into this chair between. us," observed Eleanor, who never took the head of her own table,
and placed herself now within one of her cousin.  " Your
learned reputation has caused quite a panic among the
gentlemen! only think, we have been laughing for an hour
at the terror poor Colonel Pendarvis is in!"
Matilda was surprised at the audacity with which the
heiress alluded to her own misrepresentations, but though
it did cost her an effort, she resolved to preserve her goodhumor, and tried to change the subject immediately.
"Eleanor! if we enjoyed the privilege, which ladies had
formerly in France, of choosing. what gentleman shall sit
next to them at dinner, I wonder if we could agree whom to
summon now?"
"Mr. Grant, of course," said that gentleman, inserting
himself into the empty space. " Are not your utmost wishes
anticipated?"
Both ladies smiled a gracious assent, but Matilda soon
experienced what she had previously anticipated, that it
would be hopeless to attempt appropriating the smallest
fragment of her lively neighbor's attention, which Eleanor
claimed and'entirely monopolized, while an animated dialogue instantly commenced, and continued almost without




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECTo             151
interruption till dinner was over. Having no more amus
ihg employment for her attention, Matilda listened with
great animation to what followed, though she was allowed
no opportunity of putting in a single remark.  Mr. Grant's
conversation with her cousin seemed a complete contradiction
to the proverb, " nought comes of nought," for all that passed
was literally " much ado about nothing," and yet so entertaining, on account of the light spirits and gay expression of
the speakers, that it was impossible not to be exceedingly
amused.  They did not talk absolute nonsense, though approaching to the very verge: no opinions were revealed-no
sentiments expressed-no facts stated-no questions asked.
The conversation had no visible object and no useful tendency, yet it never flagged for a moment; but'glancing at
everything, and skimming the surface, it seemed to glide
along with such abundance of sail, and neither rudder nor
ballast, that Matilda wondered every moment it was not
stranded altogether, while they carried it on without effort,
and almost without thought.
" Now, Mr. G-rant, there is a laugh in your eye that tells.me you are going to be satirical!-is it a droll remark or a
dry observation?"
"Let me try the droll remark-hem! —what shall I say!
-hem!-what a delightful day this was!"
" So I have been told a hundred and fifty times already!
If that be meant for a sample of your powers, I shall turn to
Lord Alderby on my other side. You shall be allowed five
minutes to strike out something new i"
" I do not require two seconds! Some people are obliged
to search their minds for ideas, but mine rush out like a pack
of hounds' from the kennel every time my mouth opens.
The only difficulty is to keep them back."
" Then pray be very original and amusing without a moment's delay."' In your company that is not difficult,"
" How! do you think me so easily pleased."
"Quite the contrary -my meaning is, that I need only
take example from yourself."
"Now, that is the only tolerable thing you have said for
a century! I perceive, Mr. Grant, that your wit is a mere
annual, which flourishes but once in a season. You probably
live at the rate of an idea a-year! Be sure to set down that
la'st good saying in your common-place book for future use."
"' Perhaps IT never write one."




15 2               MODERN SOCIETY,
" Impossible! every human being does    Did you never
hear Mrs. Ramsbottom's advice, that we should all' keep a
Sdairy for the cream of what we see?' Why, even my maid
Pauline, who has not three ideas, keeps her journal!"
" What a literary gem it must be! I could forl a tolerably correct guess of the subjects recorded therein-a list
of her true lovers, followed by a catalogue of how many gowns
Miss Fitz-Patrick ought to have left off wearing."
" Now, that is a severe hit at my old black velvet! How
I detest mourning!-all my cousins and relations may depend on being regretted, if they oblige me to wear black.
People should mourn in white, like the Chinese.  One thing
I have fully made up my mind about: if ever I am in a
widow's bonnet, to wear some pink bows under it, for that is
the most odious dress altogether that has ever been in
vented!"
"' So it is! How fortunate for me, that I shall never live
to behold my widow in full costume!"
"Not unless you are buried alive! But tell me what you
think the most becoming of all dresses."
"Black velvet."
"That is a proper amende to my respectable old gown.
But now, seriously, Mr. Grant, and upon your veracity, what
do you think 2"
" I never was half so serious on any subject before, as in
declaring that every lady might be a beauty in my estimation,
if she would wear black velvet and diamonds. I give you
no credit whatever for looking well in them.  Lady Susan
herself would be quite young and handsome in such an
equipment; but show me the beauty who would be tolerable
in a quaker's cap."
"I shall wear one to-morrow."
"But then, perhaps I may give out that your cap is set
at mle."
"No one would believe it! However, for your comfort,
Miss Murray certainly intends to do so.  She has been
watching us all dinner-time; —what a dear old dot she is!'
" Truly excellent, indeed," replied Mr. Grant, with sudden
gravity. 1" I do not know her equal in the world.  Miss
Murray, will you do me the honor to take wine?  How I
wish you were all like her!"
" What a dull, respectable world it would be! —why, the
very art of laughing would be lost, and that is the only
faculty we possess which animals do not."




OR THE _MARCH OF INTELLECT.          153
"Philosophers have discovered now, that laughter is always at the expense of others, and therefore it must be a
very unamiable propensity. I never have a good opinion of
people who indulge in it much." 
" Then take the consequences, Mr. Grant, for I shall not
do more than smile at your next bon-mot, if it be ever so
good."
" That would be exceedingly ungrateful, for I have laughed
heartily at many of yours, when they were none of th-e best.
But, Miss Fitz-Patrick, you are not properly sensible of half
your obligations to me."
"Indeed! what may they be?  You remind me of Mr.
Armstrong, who frequently hints that I owe him unutterable
gratitude for something or other, which is never explained.
Now, pray come to particulars."
" It was only yesterday that I wore out an entire set of
intellects in trying to understand some of the worst puns
you perpetrated."
" Did I ever degrade myself to punning?-impossible!your bill is protested."
"Well, then, I danced last year with two plain, elderly
misses at your own ball, to make it go off well.'
"Ah, that seems worth mentioning!-it is a tolerable
cheval de bataille, so let it stand. I begin to blame myself
for not having sufficiently appreciated your merits."
" Besides, I spoilt a good ear for music this morning by
listening to your attempts on the flageolet."
"You are running up a perfect national debt against me!
-How flagrantly ungrateful I have been! If Mr. Armstrong ever makes out as good a case for himself, I shall be
covered with confusion."
"Stop a moment; you have not heard the half yet!  I
lamed Scatterbrain yesterday, in trying to make you admire
my riding-I forced a laugh when you criticised my singing
-I lost a night's rest in trying to recollect the name of that
novel you wanted-I risked my life in going to the greenhouse for the sprig of myrtle you have on-   "'Not so fast, Mr. Grant!  I sent you a box of jujube
lozenges this morning, so your cold must be cured. It is
never the sign of a generous mind to make the most of people's obligations., The new definition of gratitude is only
for favors that are coming, so I owe you none at present.
We must explain this to Mr. Armstrong also, if ever I
vouchsafe a word to him again."
*        A-~~~!*




154                MIODYERN SCOCTETY,
"' Miss Eleanor Fitz-Patrick! will you take wine?" said
the unconscious object of her animadversions.
"I wish I had fifty nam'es, that he might give me them
ali!" said she, laughing affectedly, and pretending not to
hear; but on Mr. Armstrong repeating his proposal, Sir
Richard called her attention to it, and she was obliged to
accede. "~ Only a single drop, if you please, Mr. Grant! I
would refuse, if I durst, but papa is observing me, so we
must drop the business in this way. Now, watch my bow,
for it will be a model of repulsiveness. Ah! quite a failure! he seems as pleased as possible, so my countenance is
destitute of expression."
"What a remarkable talent Mr. Armstrong has acquired
for introducing into -conversation the titles of all his great
acquaintances," remarked Mr. Grant.  "It was very diverting to hear him yesterday endeavoring to out-peerage Lady
Montague, who goes already by the name of Lady M'Quality, on account of her adulation for rank.  I am credibly
informed that she puts on slight mourning for every Scotch
peer who dies, because they were all her distant cousins,
which assertion most people are too polite, or too indifferent,
very closely to investigate, therefore she passes for being
most highly, as well as very extensively connected."
-" My uncle, Sir Francis, calls her the peerless Lady Montague.  For my own part, I never learnt the game of' Catch
Honors;' but I fancy the conversation in that corner of the
table must greatly resemble it. Mr. Armstrong first brings
out Lady Ben-Nevis,-then Lady Montague trumps her
with the Dowager Marchioness of Dumbartonshire, and
Mr. Armstrong tables the Duchess of Cairngorum, and
takes the trick!"
"How different that sort of vanity' is from the real dignity
of my friend Douglas, who never imagines he could borrow
importance from any circumstance, or from any person. If
he were made a peer to-morrow, or if he lost his all in this
world, it would leave him unchanged. I should like to see
the acquaintances, the equipages, the houses, or the estates,
that he would think worth boasting of! But few men have
such a well-balanced mind.  I am not sure if I could even
say as much for myself! Did you ever hear that when the
late Lord de Mainbury got a title, he and his son, in order
to fit themselves for London society, began with exercising
each other in the peerage? and I am told it was very -hard
work before they both got at up thoreughly.'What is the



O  TAf Fz M  OBI O  INTIo t-LLEOT. a5i
family name of Lord Inchkeith?  How many daughters has
the present Duchess of Cairngorum?  Who is heir presumptive to Viscount Broadstairs?  What title does the Marquis of Glencoe's eldest son take?'"
"Mr. Grant! you are growing satirical!"
"I can't help that, as Douglas always says,-but you
know, Miss Fitz-Patrick, two of a trade never agree."
"I despise your insinuations! everybody says that I err
on the side of good-nature.  Even Miss Murray is much
more satirical than I am; but, as the shuttlecock said to the
battledore,'you like a hit. at your friends.' I begin to be
afraid that you will take m,ze off next."
" Pray let it be in a chaise and four then!" replied Mr.
Grant, with a tone of careless jocularity which might have
shown to the most superficial observer how little he expected
or desired such a denorenzent.  It was evident, however, that
Eleanor by no means understood his meaning in this light,
for she colored deeply, and nearly pulled her bouquet to
fragments, while he rattled on with other subjects, totally
unsuspicious of the impression which had been produced by
these few accidental words.
Tired at length of merely listening and smiling, Matilda
now wished to vary her amusement, seeing she was no more
expected to take a share in the dialogue between Eleanor
and Mr. Grant than if it had been a debate in the House of
Commons, and desiring, if possible, to have some conversation herself. The first person on whom her eye rested, in
glancing round the table was Dr. Murray, flanked on one
side by Lady Susan, who had turned her back upon him in
the eagerness with which she spoke to Colonel Pendarvis,
and on the other side, also dos-d-dos, by Lady Montague,
who seemed engrossed with Mr. Armstrong in a conversation which appeared to be as dull as a Court Guide, or a
visiting book.
"lIow very strange!" thought —she; "the brightest talents; the profoundest learning; the truest philanthropy,
and the most extensive knowledge of science, of nature, and
of revelation, are all at a discount here. No one near Dr.
Murray would willingly listen to the glowing eloquence with
which that voice can speak,-to the clear light he can throw
upon our condition and prospects,-to the plans of usefulness, of kindness, and of mercy with which that heart is
teeming.  Yet there is no look of angry superiority, while
he listens to the development -of minds so inferior to his




]'~'       ~        nMODERN SOCIETf,
own   He does not wrap himself up in a self-satisfied eleva
tion of intellect, but would evidently conform in a great degree to the humor of those around, if they gave him opportunity. I remember Dr. Murray saying lately, that he
never was in company with any one from whom he did not
learn something.  I wonder if he would say so still!"  Matilda's eye next caught the placid, smiling countenance of
his sister. who had been for some time attempting to understand the conversation of Eleanor and Mr. Grant.  Though
the effort was evidently vain, she seemed pleased, nevertheless, to observe so imuch vivacity, and looked from one to the
other, testifying the same sympathetic interest with which
she might have watched the playful gambols of two lively
children.  Miss Murray being eminently endowed with a
heart that thinketh no evil, seldom suspected any, unless
something was forced upon her notice which appeared flagrantly wrong, and therefore, amidst the ebullition of frolicsome spirits before her, she still hoped there might succeed
hours of serious thought and salutary meditation. There
are those in the world who believe every man in the wrong
till he is proved to be right; but this rule was reversed by
Miss Murray. Others hear with astonishment and incredulity any favorable comment on the faith or practice of those
about whom they know little, or perhaps nothing; but no
traits of excellence in her acquaintances ever took Miss Murray by surprise.  There is a vulgar old proverb whio:]' says,'set a thief to catch a thief,' which is never more glaringly
exemplified than in the case of those who suspect that others
are hypocrites; for a true Christian, being himself incapable
of deceit, will be slow to imagine it in his neighbor. Miss
Murray always suspected some lurking good, where the world
saw only evil. She felt sceptical about nothing but the faults
of her associates, and' shifted her trumpet' when they could
no longer be defended.  There had always been some perplexity in her mind with respect to Eleanor, which daily
intercourse only increased.  She felt occasionally a dim suspicion of being herself an object of ridicule; and she had
lately lamented the heiress's gay indifference to the privations and- sufferings of others; but still Miss Murray looked
upon. her with partial indulgence, as a child of prosperity. in
whom better feelings might yet be developed, while she frequently added her prayers to her hopes, that present scenes,
with- all their dazzling brightness, might not permanently
blind her young friend to the all-important future.




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            157
When Matilda's eye met that of Miss Murray, the good
md lady nodded and smiled to her with such an expression
ot beaming benevolence and of natural simplicity, that her
heart at the moment might have been compared to some
modest wild flower amidst a collection of exotics, so artificial
were the manners and feelings of those around her, amongst
whom any traits of nature, or any expressions of serious recollection, would have been considered an outrage on goodbreeding, and an infringement on social comfort.
About this time Eleanor, with that laudable ambition
which she often testified, to raise her dogs on a level with
herself, sent for a second supply of soup, which she gave to
Blanco; while Lady Susan, not to be outdone, soohl afterwards minced down carefully, for Tiny, a slice of Turkey
which Sir Richard sent for her own consumption.  The
dogs being hungry, "licked the platter clean," and a footman. in haste, put Tiny's plate on the sideboar(l, from
whence Martin, without becoming aware of any previous
destination, traasferred it to Lord Alderby.  Matilda, being
the only person who observed this oversight, made a hasty
signal for the objectionable plate to be changed: but she
colored with confusion to observe the astonishment of his
lordship at her unaccountable interference, which it was iinpossible to explain, and she could not but think afterwards
that those ladies who blame a Roman emperor for promoting
his horse above human nature, should look at home.
Nothing is half so rapid as thought, and much of this
passed through Matilda's mind in the course of five minutes,
when at length she observed Sir Richard's eye fixed upon
her.  It was his frequent remark, that vacant chairs are
better at a dinner-table than silent guests, so she now determined to make an essay of her conversational powers on Sir
Colin.  Seeing that he was occupied in anxiously investigating the bill of fare, she ventured some leading remark
upon it, by way of commencing a dialogue; but she unconsciously addressed one of those public talkers who disdain
to waste their tediousness upon solitary individuals. Merely
giving a hasty, constrained reply. he continued eagerly watching for the first opening into which his word and his story
might be inserted, amongst a knot of joyous bon vivants who
gathered round Sir Richard near the head of his table.
Matilda was now consigned to irretrievable silence, and.
she could not resist smiling to observe that Sir Alfred acted
the same part from choice which she did from necessity, as




MODERN SOCIETY,
he had succeeded at last in reducing Miss Charlotte Clifford,
his persevering tormentor, to. a state of quiescence. She now
endeavored to cover her defeat by a spirited attempt at engaging Sir Richard in conversation, though he was so engrossed with his public duties, as host, that her success
became laughably deficient.  Of all the forlorn hopes that
any one can volunteer upon, none is more desperate than
that of monopolizing much attention from a hospitable country gentleman presiding at his own table. of which Matilda
now saw an amusing exemplification.
" This was a charming day!" said Miss Charlotte, who
seemed never to tire of praising it.
"Lady Susan Danvers! will you take wine — port or
sherry?  Sir Colin calls this vin cheri, it is so excellent!
Were you speaking to me, Miss Clifford?"
" This was a —"Douglas! try that salmon; it was in the river three
hours ago!  Alderby! send Lady Montague a pate.  Pardon me, Miss Clifford: I am all attention!"
" This was a char."
" Dr. Murray! as Mathews says,' you are not a sozp-orfishial man,' I perceive! A disciple of Jephson's, evidently.
Well! it is what we must all come to, sooner or later. I
would rather not live at all than live on a rule-of-three diet.
De Mainbury! try that vol-au-vent.  Made on a Leamington
prescription, you may depend upon it.  Were you remarking anything, Miss Clifford 2"
" I merely said -"
"Fletcher! that Madeira has been forty years in bottle!
Excuse me, Miss Clifford!"
"My observation was very insignificant; merely that-'
"Lady Montague! pray call for a screen! you don't stand
fire well!"
Matilda's countenance had been gradually kindling with
animation as she watched the fate of Miss Charlotte's valuable remark, which was destined never to struggle into existence at all. She now hastily averted her eyes, to conceal a
smile which irresistibly forced itself on her countenance,
and, in turning another way, she unexpectedly received a
look from Sir Alfred, so full of archness and humor, that
she was completely.taken by surprise. Often, on former
occasions, the same expression had glittered.in his eye beneath an external aspect of gravity, as if he wished her alone
to perceive it, and now she felt almost as if a renewal hadl




OI THE MAiRCH OF INTELLECT.           159
taken place of their intimacy, and that possibly he might
still be unchanged from what she once thought him.  " Time
might have altered me also,:' thought she, " and a whole year
may have changed all that he used to prefer. I have always
thought that when people meet after a long absence, they
are scarcely the same individuals who became originally attached, for years transform our sentiments, our opinions: and
our spirits, as much as our appearance. If Sir Alfred ever
thought as I once had some reason to believe, he may still
perhaps find me the same.'"  Matilda observed, however,
that he did not ask her to take wine, nor in any way follow
up their intercourse, so she again resolutely dismissed the
subject from her thoughts.
Sir Richard Fitz-Patrick had now attained the paradise
of hospitality, applauding his own cellar, as if his very existence depended on its being appreciated, and listening with
good-humored delight to a chorus of approbation which followed the drawing of every cork.
": This hock might do for the Antiquarian Society! I dare
not mention its age!" said he, in a tone of exultation. " Without vanity, I may assert that it excels anything we tasted at
Clanpibroch Castle last week.": I'll answer for that!" exclaimed Mr. Grant.
"Does your uncle not keep a well-filled cellarS" asked
Colonel Pendarvis.
" I know of none except the salt-cellar.  Sir Evan never
gave me anything formerly but Cape Madeira and gooseberry champagne. I never can conceive where such things
are bought! One day, however, I remonstrated seriously,
and told him my terms, that I never dined out under a bottle
of claret."
" By the way, Grant, could you give me leave to shoot over
the Clanpibroch property next season?" asked Colonel
Pendarvis. " Your uncle preserves so rigidly, that they tell
me he has a keeper for every bird; but as I mean to Scotlandize again in August, and shall visit this neighborhood, it
would be desirable in good time to secure the privilege."
"' You shall have it then! but only on condition of adopting the plan that I shall suggest-otherwise there is not a
chance."
"Well, let me hear it! What would I not gladly undertake for a shot over such capital moors!"
1" That being the case, you must shoot Sir Evan first, and
afterwards I can give you leave."




1o60                MODERN SOCIETY,
How very obliging, Grant! Pray, accept all the thanks
you merit for so friendly an offer, and take a glass of Burgundy with me.  It turned out rather stronger than my pericranium yesterday, but no matter.  If I get such another
mtal de tete again, some person must be hired to take my head
off, and wear it for me till morning."
"Martin!" cried Sir Richard, turning angrily towards the
butler,'. you have omitted to cool this champagne! It might
have been iced with the vegetables, they are all so cold."
"Talking of sham pain," began Sir Colin, loudly, —" the
best pun in the world, except one of my own, which you shall
hear afterwards, about Cure us a'; but next to that, the
cleverest bon-mot I remember was one of Sir Jonathan
Fowler's, which you shall hear, about champagne —"'Meantime join me in a glass of it, Fletcher!" interrupted Sir Richard. " I got a supply from the Continent this
month, and wish to have the public opinion. What I had last
turned all at once into vinegar."
" This is inimitable and to show you how much I think of
it," said Mr. Grant,'if somebody would present me with a
pipe of the same, I would actually accept the offer."
"That wine is so mild, you might drink it in tumblers,"
continued the hospitable host.." Then, Sir Richard, we should very soon be tumblers ourselves."'Seriously,'' replied the Baronet, with an air of conscious
merit, " I scarcely believe any one could possibly find its
equal."
"Rather fiat," replied Lord Alderby, with a dissenting
shake of the head.
"That is aftat contradiction, at any rate!"
"Why, Fitz-Patrick!" exclaimed Lord de Mainbury,
"6 your wit sparkles like your champagne!"
" Yes," pursued Sir Colin, " and the story which I was
about to relate, and which you may all perhaps now be at
leisure to hear --
" Pendarvis! try that hock — it was in bottle long before
your father was born."
" I shall respect it accordingly, Sir Richard."
"No one venerates a good old age more than I do," said,
Mr. Grant, turning to Lady Susan, and asking her to join
him in a glass of wine; " it certainly wears well."
" I am steady to the champagne," said Lord Alderby.
"' Then you'll not be steady long!" observed Mr. Grant.




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.             161
"As I was saying," resumed Sir Colin, looking around in
desperation for a listener, "about the sham —."
" Fletcher!" interrupted Sir Richard, "we are trying a
new cook to-day, and I wish you would eat down one side of
the table, to let me know your candid opinion of his skill. It
is intolerable to see any one wasting a good appetite on roast
Hmutton."
Sir Colin, it was hoped, had now been effectually silenced,
as the whole party were aware that he entertained no higher
ambition than to be reckoned skilful in the science of gastronomy.  No geologist could have understood the strata of
a mountain more perfectly than he did that of a fricandeau,
and his knowledge of chemical analysis was profoundly practical among sauces and seasonings. Unfortunately. however, like all superficial philosophers, he was more addicted
to lecture than to study, and therefore Sir Richard's quietus
did not long remain effectual, for he soon broke silence, in a
tone all the more consequential, for having been thus publicly
appealed to as a high authority.
"Fitz-Patrick! I have dined at Windsor-I have lived at
Crockford's-and I keep a first-rate French cook myself;
therefore my verdict may be supposed to carry some weight
with it.  You will be glad to hear that this is a very clever
fricassee."
" Keep your own counsel, then, Fletcher! No good politician praises any dish till he has dined on it, and I generally
make a grimace of disapprobation when most pleased, on
purpose to cause a diversion in my own favor. Let us all
try something different to-day, as it really hurts Monsieur
Martigny's feelings extremely when any dish goes down untouched, so that I shall make it a duty to partake of whatever no one else has ventured to attack."
"How very different from me," cried Colonel Pendarvis,
laughing.:" My old aunt Grace, who grows every day richer
and shabbier, became so saving, many years ago, that, during my juvenile visits at Yorkton Abbey, it used to be as
much as my head was worth, if I presumed to be the first
who opened a tart, or invaded any fortress of pastry whatever.  Since then I have stormed the breach at Bergen-opzoom, but never did I suffer more real apprehension than in
once attacking such a castle of whipped-cream and almondbiscuits as this!  Shall I ever forget one day, after my return from Spain, her whispering to me during dinner,' You
mnay take the blanc-mange, but the jelly will keep t'"




X2 Mi XT~IODERN SOCIETY,':Really," said Mr. Grant.!" those rich old aunts and
uncles, who exceed the age of fifty or sixty unmarried, should
all retire on a pension, or be put to death in the easiest way
that can be devised."''" Aunts are sometimes very respectable people too!" interposed Major Foley. " One of mine was exceedingly kind
to me formerly, during the Eton holidays, and I shall never
forget that day, when a letter reached me in the barracks,
announcing her death. ~We were all sitting at the mess,
when it was put in my hands, and being then quite young
and unsophisticated, I instantly started up to leave the room.
Our senior captain anxiously stopped me, to hope nothing
distressing had occurred, and if you will believe it, the whole
table burst into an explosion of laughter, when they heard
me announce, in doleful accents, that'my aunt Dorothy was
dead!' you have no notion howi abashed I felt; but they
made nme sit down again, and in two minutes and a quarter
my grief was over.'
Meantimle- Sir Colin's lectures still continued, while, with
a bill of fare in one hand and his fork in the other, he prosecuted his investigations. -' A cook should receive every
encouragement, and be accustomed to consider himself as
the most important functionary in the house, or he cannot be
expected to take proper pains.  1 have a tray of tea-cups,
filled with different kinds of soup, brought to my room
every morning to be tasted, in order to judge which would
be preferable for dinner, and my chef declares I am the only
master he ever served who is really worthy of him."
4" No doubt 1" said Mr. Grant.  "You ought also to try a
plan which was adopted by the French epicures long ago,
Sir Colin, to encourage exertion; they dropped half-a-crown
into the sauce of any dish which pleased their palates, and
thus the artist was c;rowane:l with approbation."
" I protest, here are woodcocks again!" exclaimed Sir
Richard, in a discontented tone.  " W hy, Eleanor, if you
go on in this way much longer, we shall have bills growing,."
" And that would make you bill-ious," added Sir Colirn,
falling into such immoderate fits of laughter at his own wit,
that he continued speechless for some minutes.  " That sayIng of inine reminds me of the niost amusing story imaginable.  I have laughed at it for hours alone'
Matilda looked breathless with expectation-universal attention was excited-and Sir Colin became at last happy in




on THE MARCH OF INTELLECT,            163
having obtained " possession of the house," which he endeav.
ored to keep as long as possible.
" I heard the incident from Lord Ben-Nevis-who had it
from Sir Jonathan Fowler -or rather, I believe, it was Lady
Fowler who told it to the General's brother-   "
By this time the attention of most people relaxed, and
many began gradually to talk aside, while, as the circle of
Sir Colin's audience perceptibly diminished, he felt obliged
to lower his voice accordingly, until Matilda remained the
only person whose ear he could command.  The bright
look of intelligence with which she had watched his promising commencement, gradually faded into an air of constraint, and in proportion as the narrator's tediousness
increased, so much the more difficult did she find it to force
her thoughts away from more attractive sounds of mirth and
repartee which- were exploding in all directions around;
yet, even on such trifling occasions, Matilda had a prevailing
sense of duty, which taught her-not to seek entertainment
at the expense of mortifying another. To spare Sir Colin
any such degree of chagrin as the continuance of her solitary attention could do, after his more distinguished auditors had forsaken their allegiance, she resolutely chained her
ears to his narrative, while in a dull, monotonous voice, the
baronet wound. his way through a labyrinth in which he
soon got entangled and nearly lost.  Matilda could not but
privately think that her present annoyance might do admirably in a new edition of the Miseries of Human Life.  At
last she was called on for a complaisant laugh, as a chorus
to the loud peal in which Sir Colin indulged when his story
reached an end, and immediately afterwards he turned away
to watch whether a larger circle of auditors could, on a future opportunity, be attracted.
When Matilda's eyes were released, she found the whole
party in joyous anticipation of a proposed excursion on the
ice next morning, since, to the utter discomfiture of the
sportsmen, it was reported that a hard frost had set in for
some hours, and that snow several inches deep was already
on the ground.
" In Scotland," said Colonel Pendarvis, "' people should
all hunt with a pair of skates in their pockets, in order
to secure Isome amusement -for the. day in so changeable a
climate."-  -  - 
"It never snows in  England," observed Mr. Grant,
dryly; "and the Serpentine is to be frozen by Leslie's ma



164                 MODERN SOCIETY,
3hinery, in future, about Christmas, that you may practice
skating."
" We shall have a delightful exploit on Loch Deveril tomorrow!" exclaimed Eleanor, in an ecstasy.  "Unluckily,
it-is too cold for gipsying under a tree and broiling chops in
the open air; but we may order a picnic at the fishing-lodge,
and skate about all day with a tumbler of hot negus in one
hand and a biscuit in the other. I could live forever on the
ice!"
"So could I, with the party you propose," added Lord
Alderby, bowing and shivering.
" Is skating one of your accomplishments? I thought, my
lord, your favorite aquatic amusement had been, as Dr. Johnson describes fishing, with a fly at one end and a fool at the
other!"
" There is a r'od for you, Alderby! said Mr. Grant.
"Let me tell you, Miss Fitz-Patrick," added his Lordship,
" that no one knows what perfect happiness is until he has
hooked a ten-pound salmon, and played it on the line for an
hour.  Pray try the experiment."'
" Thank you! but I have other game quite as diverting,
Lord Alderby; and sometimes I do fish ini very shallow
streams for compliments "
" Your only -difficulty is, probably, to avoid being deluged
with them."
"There! Miss Fitz-Patrick i" cried Mr. Grant.  "If you
were angling, that was' a glorious nibble!"'
" I remember a laughable story of Dr. Johnson," began
Sir Colin, glancing anxiously round the table for an audience,
but every eye became carefully averted, and even Matilda
looked inexorably away for some time, but was at last obliged,
being next him, to become compassionate, and endure the
endless detail of a well-known narrative, which she could
have told twice as well in half the time.
"Any one who saw me to-day, for the first time, would
imagine that I am dumb," thought she, when the story was
ended, for Sir Colin did not wait to hear her make a single
remark, before he relapsed into a state of watchful vigilance
over the jovial party whose attention it was so much his desire to entrap.
" This ice is the merest snowball I ever tasted, Eleanor I"
said Sir Richard, in a criticizing tone.  " Could Monsieur not
have thrown in a glass of Frontignac, or even a bit of brown




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECr.            165
bread, to flavor it. Send me the preserved ginger, that I
may add a relish of something."
"Douglas!" cried Colonel Pendarvis, "I calculate the:wine has stood with you nearly one minute and a half. Your
mind seems to have been absent so long to-day, that I wish
we may ever be able to bring it back!'"
" The mouton qui reve is the worst sort of mutton I know
at a dinner-table, and should be roasted without mercy,"
added Sir Richard.  " As for circulating the bottles, I have
a plan for forcing everybody to recollect that duty.  They
shall be made not to stand alone."
"Then," replied Sir Alfred, "before long, none of your
company will be able to stand alone either."
" When you are come to that, we ladies ought to withdraw," said Eleanor, rising.
" Stop one single moment, and you shall hear a most diverting circumstance,'" cried Sir Colin, eagerly addressing
Miss Fitz-Patrick;'it can be related in very few words-"
This threat seemed only to accelerate their flight, but as
the ladies were moving away, Sir Colin said to Matilda, in a
promissory tone" You need not suffer for this precipitation, Miss Howard,
because I shall tell it all to you in the drawing-room, where
there will be more leisure to enjoy the details than if I had
hurried them over now."
The smile which glittered on Matilda's countenance at this
formidable threat was mistaken by Sir Colin for one of
pleasure; but, in hastening away from table, she again caught
the animated eye of Sir Alfred, whose archness and vivacity
of expression seemed like a momentary gleam of lightning,
revealing a glimpse of that mind which it appeared to be in
general his pleasure to envelop in impenetrable obscurity,
and she again felt surprised at the peculiarity of his conduct,
in not placing their intimacy on former terms, or else appearing more entirely to forget it.
"Matilda! you have shown a talent for silence to-day,"
said Eleanor, satirically.  " I think all you have said during
the last four hours might be printed in a duodecimo page."
"Probably it might! I am like an echo, only able to
speak when I am spoken to."
"Now I evidently perceive your intention is to set up for
the reputation of modest merit, which is one of the most
troublesome characters in society, and one of the most easy
to support that can be conceived, though, let me warn your




0l B orMODERN SOCIETI,
MIatilda, that gen rally the vainest people affect it. Who has
not been tormented, at some time or other, with that pride
which apes humility among second-rate ladies, though you
ought to be above it?  I have had visitors of that kind here,
who lived in a continual expectation of being overlooked
and undervalued-who remain silent, unless particularly addressed, because they cannot presume to expect the honor of
being listened to-who sit in an obscure corner of the room,
unless called forward to the most conspicuous —who would
pass their best fiiend in the street, because they would not
be supposed to feel certain whether the said' best friend'
meant to notice them at all-whom no constancy of regard
can teach to confide in the good-will of those who are above
them in rank, and who require more anxious attention than
any peeress of the party, on account of the obscurity which
they seem to court, and in which, nevertheless, they would
feel equally surprised and indignant to be left for a single
hour."
" I am trying to trace the connection between all you say,
Eleanor, and my silence at dinner, for unless I had done like
the French preacher, who took up his hat in the pulpit, and
held an argument with it, you can scarcely suggest any way
in which a conversation could have been supported."
"Ahi your modest merit wears a different fancy-dress.
When others commit themselves in conversation, you have
the pleasure of silently thinking that you would never have
been so caught; when others are preferred, then modest
merit whispers, that if it were not for an interesting sensitiveness of disposition, you might easily eclipse all competitors; and if you condescend at any time to give out a remark, or to exhibit any little accomplishment, then comes
modest merit, expecting the greatest emrpressement of attention,
because it is so easily discouraged, and so seldom comes forward; therefore, in fact you, Matilda, can pass off that simple
plea of modest merit as a sort of paper currency for every
virtue, while, on the contrary, poor Charlotte Clifford and I
frankly display all the rubbish of our minds, without a wish
to pass for being more than mere every. day mortals.  I would
not for worlds seem better than I am conscious of deserving;
but if we were all turned inside out, Matilda; some people
might appear in a very different light from what they do."
" That would be rather an unpleasant experiment, certainly; but as you acknowledge its being my turn to speak
now, pray listen to me: for a few moments."




OR THE MARCHI OF INTELLECT'O           16l
Matilda then related to Eleanor, in terms of the warmest
feeling, all that she heard from  Nanny that evening, with
respect to the unfortunate misrepresentations which had
taken place in the house, and entreated that they might be,thoroughly cleared up, if possible, without delay; but Miss
Fitz-Patrick's ruling passion had become a love of power, and
one of the ways in which it appeared, was, that she never
chose to act or think in the way that other people expected.
If her cousin had endeavored to produce a strong feeling
against Nanny, and a perfect conviction of her guilt, it would
then probably have been treated as a trifle, and listened to
with ridicule and incredulity; but perceiving that Matilda's
feelings were strongly excited, and that she entertained no
doubt of producing a similar emotion by the simple narrative of all she had seen, Eleanor, to show the independence
of her own judgment, spoke of Nanny's sufferings in a tone
between pity and contempt.
"' Poor creature! she is the vainest and silliest mortal in
the world! It has been already a most intolerable bore to
have a pensive, romantic Abigail; but I was only too indulgent on the present occasion, for now she has turned out
worse than you have the least idea of. Both Pauline and
MIrs. Gordon have a very bad opinion of her.  At the same
time it is quite unnecessary to look so shocked and alarmed,
for justice shall be done to all parties, therefore pray do not
invariably expect that whatever I do shall be wrong."
" You mistake me, Eleanor, as you always do, now," replied MIatilda, " but I must persevere a few moments longer
in importuning you about Nanny.  She is one of the last
remnants of Ashgrove, and we have both known her from a
child.  Do, dear Eleanor, let there be no delay in trying to
exculpate her. Every hour is a lifetime, while she remains
under these false imputations, and nothing could possibly
persuade me that they are true."
"You always had a prejudice against Pauline, Matilda.
It is strange that we never, on any occasion, or even by accident, like the same people; but Mrs. Gordon's opinion
ought to have some weight with you, and she gives a very
indifferent account of Nanny for being extremely lightheaded. Indeed, any one may see that in her whole dress
and manner. I quite regret having ever had anything to do
with her!"
" You may often find occasion to say so, Eleanor, if this
businesa is neglected, for that poor, girl is breaking her heart




168                 MODERN SOCIETY,
about it.  Oh! think seriously for your own sake, for hers,
and for tile sake of our beloved aunt, who taught Nanny to
value her good name as she does, and let immediate investigations be made, before she is consigned to irretrievable
ruin!"
" Matilda! I know my duty in this house, perhaps, as well
as you do, and have no wish to take a course of lectures upon
it from any one.  I wonder that phrenologists have not discovered a large organ of interferingness in some'heads that
I know of; but pray endeavor to practise a few of the Chris
tian virtues you so often recommend, and then I may listen
with more deference."
"' She did not see Nanny's distress, as I did; she has not
heard the eloquence of real suffering," thought Matilda.
"Let me pardon a few hasty words to myself, and persevere,
whatever be the difficulty, in trying to rescue this poor girl
from her present misery."
Miss Howard hastened to her own room, where Nanny had
been desired to wait for her, but she was surprised to find it
not only vacant, but in the strangest disorder, while every
door and window stood open to its widest extent, her flowers
were all scattered on the floor, her wardrobe unclosed, and
her drawers in eviJent confusion.  Hastily rectifying in some
degree what was amiss, she, meanwhile, repeatedly rung the
bell, but in vain; and at length, with a vague feeling of apprehension, she snatched up her candle, and proceeded in
search of Nanny to the housekeeper's room.  There, no one
had seen dr heard anything of her for several hours, and
Pauline, giving a contemptuous toss of the head, remarked,
that if Miss Howard would send to inquire in the butler's
hall, or the steward's room, she might probably be found,
while old Mrs. Gordon shook her head, with a look of stern
severity, and dryly observed, that, indeed, Nanny little merited Miss Howard's care.
" Mrs. Gordon," replied Matilda, anxiously," " I have
known that poor girl since the time when we both were children. She was then the most innocent, guileless creature
on earth, and if there be anything greatly wrong now, it is
very recent. Let us try, then, to reclaim her. She is in a
state of extreme distress. and deserves, even at the worst,
our pity.  Be kind to Nanny, for my sake, if not for her own,
and rest assured I shall take it as a mark of personal attention to myself, if you will treat her with consideration while
she so greatly needs it."




OR THE MARCH OF IN-TELLECT.           169
" Indeed, Miss Howard, she takes no advice from me! I
never stop telling her how foolishly she has acted, and if
Nanny loses her character it is no fault of mine."
"Perhaps it may be unnecessary to give counsel now, Mrs.
Gordon, for Nanny's present sufferings are the strongest admonition in favor of future prudence. But do not pronounce
her guilty of crime till she is proved to be so, and let her not
be treated as a criminal while any hope remains that she is
innocent."
"' I fancy the less we say about that the better, Miss Howard, for it will soon be shown that she is little worthy of so
mnuch kind interest."
" If none of us ever got more than we deserve, Mrs. Gordon, how miserable we should all be! let us then imitate
that imercy which we hope hereafter to receive, and be slow
to take up an evil report. Where will it be possible to find
that poor girl, for the state in which I left her was truly
pitiable?"
" She has found employment, no doubt, Miss Howard, for
Ntanny knows how to take good care of herself," said Mrs.
Gordon, maliciously looking towards Pauline.  "She is not
at all fit to wait on a young lady like you, ma'am."
Matilda turned away with vexation and regret, to pursue
her search for Nanny, wherever there was a probability of
success, but in vain; till at length, despairing for the present. and greatly perplexed how to account for her absence,
she became apprehensive of remaining longer alone, knowing
that Eleanor would not be sparing of animadversions; so she
slowly returned to the drawing-room.
All was liveliness and vivacity there. Sir Richard and
his party had joined the circle some minutes before, in a
blaze of spirits and good-humor, while Eleanor might be
seen fluttering about the room, like a butterfly on a sultry
day, her movements were so full of animation, and her dress
so voyante and gay. Nothing can be more just than the
privilege which is given to strangers, of estimating female
character at first by the test of their attire, wherein much:moral principle as well as judgment may be displayed, and
more of the character becomes discernible than could easily
be anticipated.  It is certain that accommodating external
decoration to the progressive advance of years requires a degree of frequent recollection which few are willing to exercise, and some ladies never seem to ask themselves the question-" How old art thou?"  The fortune and rank of the




1.70'               MODERN SOCIETY,
wearer, also, are not always sufficiently considered; and
while some exhibit a lavish expenditure, inconsistent with
Christian moderation, others also err in giving way to a
slovenly despondency of appearance, in which the proprieties of station are overlooked. There can be no well-regulated time which does not allow sufficient leisure for personal
tidiness, while, at the same time, there can be no inward delicacy of mind where anything is sacrificed to outward allurement; and in proportioning what part of an income shall be
given to the needy, it is often a duty to afford them employmeat, as well as to afford them alms; to encourage the industrious, while we relieve the necessitous; and to have it
always in view that motives to exertion should be supplied
rather than premiums on idleness. iMatilda's costume was
chiefly regulated according to the rules of that standard
work on the subject, "l Mrs. Theresa Tidy's Eighteen Maxims of Neatness and Order" —being precisely adapted to her
rank, and to the very liberal income which Sir Francis allowed. Though no part of her happiness consisted in dress
or show, she had been taught to consider it a duty towards
others, as well as towards herself, that there should be nothing in it, of which any friend could disapprove, nor any
carelessness of her own to let it be supposed that strictness
of Christian principle interfered with the petiles mlorales of
society. If she had been to pass a whole day in her room
alone, still a due care would have been bestowed on personal
propriety, and yet nothing she ever wore was extravagant or
inconsistent.  Her dress fitted well, was carefully put on,
and showed to advantage the perfect symmetry of a graceful
figure, while the massy folds of her smooth shining hair testified to great attention having been given to it; but from the
time when IMatilda left her toilette, she thought no more of
dress than of the air she breathed.  Eleanor's costume, on
the contrary, was as capricious as her character.  At one
time she glittered in jewels like an eastern Sultana  and
diamonds sparkled as glow-worms amidst her dark waving
tresses,-but on her next appearance she might in all probability be attired like a school-girl. in her white muslin robe
a I'enfant, with her hair simply braided, and unconscious of
ornament. In the same spirit, she was muffled up one day
in the utmost affectation of prudery, and the very next opportunity she ventured to the extremest verge of decency.
Whatever Eleanor did, or whatever she did not, became always a. lubject of importance, in her own estimation, and




OR THE MAORCH oF INTELLE-OT.         X 7 
whether the remark might be, "I always wear blue," ore, A I
never wear pink," it was given out as a matter of consequence
which she piqued herself upon.  The round white arm of
Matilda was almost entirely shrouded from view, and never
willingly displayed; but Eleanor's, bared almost to the
shoulder, seemed only covered by the profusion of bracelets
which adorned it; and her beautifully formed foot and ankle
were flourished on every stool in the drawing-room, while
Miatilda's, of equal symmetry, was never seen, except by accident.  Who has not observed the brilliant silks which are
obtruded on the notice of every passenger at a shop window,
till they become so wearisome to the sight, thau anything
less beautiful is more attractive? and thus it was with respect to the young heiress's appearance, in consequence of
that vulgar-minded ostentation with which she exhibited
herself) while the modest reserve of Matilda rendered her
an object of watchful interest to many of whose notice she
was unconscious.
" So you have taken a siesta till the gentlemen appeared!"
whispered Eleanor when she entered the room.  " I suppose
you are annoyed because I would not fly instantly to be judge
and jury at your bidding, upon this fracas between my two
Abigails!-Well! with all my faults, I have rather riore
equanimity of temper than to sit in angry retirement during
a whole evening for such trifles; and more might have been
expected from one who makes such professions of religion as
you do.';
Matilda's color rose to its brightest vermilion at this unexpected address, and with a look of indignant surprise, almost amounting to incredulity, she was about to reply, wheh
Eleanor, conscious that she stood on untenable ground, hastened away, leaving her cousin to ruminate with' vexation and
astonishment on the distorted aspect which her cousin was
sometimes able, and always willing to throw upon all she did
or said, while a feeling of unconquerable impatience took
possession of her mind at being unwillingly detained where
she was so evidently unwelcome.  No distressed damsel in
an enchanted castle could have seen less chance of immediate escape, for Sir Richard's outrageous hospitality, and.
her mother's positive determination, were more than a match
for the readiness with which Eleanor and Sir Francis would
have facilitated her wishes; and she could only wonder in
silence what might be Lady Howard's object in forcing her
to enter a. Scene of so much perplexity and annoyances




l'12               MODERN SOCIETY,
Meantime, a project having originated with Major Foley
and the Miss Cliffords to get up some quadrilles on the carpet, an animated discussion took place respecting the capabilities of the room for dancing; and Eleanor, having, as she
hoped, obviated every difficulty, was soon in a state of almost
childish glee.. Her eyes glistened with anticipated pleasure,
while she sung some bars of a favorite galope, and executed
a few light and graceful steps towards a retired part of the
room, where Sir Alfred Douglas was deeply engaged in conversation with Dr. Murray.
" What a delightful quadrille we shall have!" cried she,
eagerly.
" Shall we!!" replied the young baronet, looking rather
incredulous. " I hope you have prepared a tight rope for
me, as I never dance on anything else."
" Now, Sir Alfred! how teasing you are! we cannot possibly make out the second set without you."
"Try that gentleman in the Spanish chair.  He has a
disengaged look."
"' Mr. Armstrong!! I never speak to him!-and besides,
he seems planted in that seat. I do believe he is like the
Chinese ladies, whose feet sometimes take root in the floor.
But. now, Sir Alfred, do bestir yourself without delay, or I
shall be obliged to give you up as a mauvais sujet."
" I heartily wish you would,-but since you must know
the worst, I am as immovable here as a rock."
-" Then you must be blown up with gunpowder; and, indeed, Sir Alfred, if you continue to be so untractable, I shall
order the floor to be made red-hot, and then you know even
a bear would dance."
"Yes  and with a much better grace than I should," replied Sir Alfred, resuming his discussion with Dr. Murray,
in which they both seemed to be profoundly interested.
A fatal impediment now arose to the projected amusement, as all the young ladies were ready to dance, but none
of them seemed inclined to perform the music. One was
"so nervous," another could do nothing without her own
books, and a third had "made a rule" never to play for
dancing. Mr. Grant jestingly offered to whistle a quadrille;
and Eleanor professed her intention to order, without delay,
a hand-organ containing the suitable number of tunes. Still
the evil seemed without any immediate remedy, when Matilda accidentally became aware of the deficiency, and being
glad of an opportunity to do something which could not be




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.           173
misrepresented, she hastened forward with an offer of her
assistance.
" Oh! you are the best of human beings!" cried Eleanor,
eagerly looking round for her partner. "Dear Matilda!
how very kind you are!"
Miss Howard fixed her large speaking eyes on her cousin,
and they became suddenly brightened with a tear, for her
feelings had been excited previously by reflection on past
scenes; and she was now reminded of the time when such
words as these had been spoken frequently and sincerely,
while she felt how truly they Would have been deserved, at
any sacrifice, if the hope and the confidence could have been
restored with which she had once looked upon their friendship as that which nothing could alter.
" After all, it is a chance if you would have had a partner,
and it is better to cover your retreat at the piano, as most
of the gentlemen seem provided already," continued Elea-,nor, who had herself been the person to arrange this. " Perhaps, indeed, Sir Colin, who is dancing to cure the liver
complaint, might have exhibited with you some of the 99
steps which he boasts of knowing-or Mr. Armstrong could
possibly be stirred up with a pole, as the quadrupeds are in
a menagerie."
"Thank you, Eleanor! two more, elderly and respectable
partners could scarcely have been selected. Perhaps Sir
Richard also might have forgot his gout, in a fit of generous
comlpassion," replied Matilda, taking her place at the piano,
where she performed her self-appointed task with mechanical
precision, while her thoughts irresistibly turned upon Nanny,
of whose absence she could not but think with surprise, and
whom she was anxious to form some plan for assisting.  It
occurred to her, at length, how thankfully Miss Murray
would embrace any opportunity of doing a kind action, and
as there could be no hope of retaining the poor girl longer
at Barnard Castle, she resolved on requesting that Nanny
might be received for a tirme at Gaelfield, to prevent the ap
pearance of her character having been entirely forfeited
Impatient to put this plan in execution, she turned hastily
round, whenever the quadrille was concluded, intending to
open the negotiation, when, to her infinite surprise, the
quadrille party had formed themselves into a country-dance,
and she saw Colonel Pendarvis clapping his hands for the
music to commence. No sooner did the country-dance conelude than a waltz was called for, and to that succeeded a




17~4               MODERN SOCIETY,
galope, so that Matilda thought the whole party must have
been bit by a tarantula, and yet she scarcely knew how to
refuse performing for those who seemed so entirely dependent on her exertions. Certainly there were no very obvious
symptoms of gratitude on their part, as she neither saw nor
heard any of the dancers, except now and then, when gentlemen came hastily up to her with a message from their partners to request that she would play faster or slower, according as taste or caprice happened to dictate; but it seemed to
be considered a matter of course that, as music was the indispensable accompaniment of dancing, it signified little how
that might be obtained, so long as it continued to be necessary.
After Dr. Murray had left the room, which he did early,
Sir Alfred placed himself near the pianoforte, where it might
be imagined he was listening to the music, as no other ostensible object appeared in his sitting beside Matilda. Not a
word passed upon either side, and at length Eleanor came
up to him, exclaiming, in a remonstrating voice"' Sir Alfred, you really ought to do a little popularity
amongst us, since you are canvassing the neighborhood.
A dance now would be excellent practice for the electionball, where every fat farmer's cherry-cheeked daughter will
expect a quadrille."
" I would rather, at this moment, relinquish my seat in
Parliament than my seat here."
" I wonder what your valet thinks, Sir Alfred, when you
return from parties, night after night, without having worn
out any shoes with dancing! He must fancy that you have
been dreadfully at a loss for partners!"
" So I amn! and therefore I never presume to ask one!"
" But did I not hear Charlotte Clifford, say, some minutes
ago, when Sir Colin asked her to dance, that she was very
much afraid a previous engagement to you would interfere?"
"Let Miss Clifford plead any engagement she pleases,
provided I am never asked to fulfil it. Nothing on this
side of Circassia would tempt me from my quiet corner."
" I wish we had the enchanted horn which forced people
to dance while it was played upon, and then you should not
be allowed to sit down for a year.  Charlotte would be delighted to perform also for as long a time; and you have no
idea how charmingly she galopes-one might suppose -she
was blown along the floor by a gale of wind."
~- How enchanting! If your friend is really such a super



OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.  175
lative performer, perhaps she will favor us with a specimen
now.  Pray ask her to exhibit a few steps here!"
" Well, Sir Alfred! since you are inexorable to Charlotte,
perhaps I might be prevailed on to dance with you myself."
"It is very plain why you propose that, Miss Fitz-Patrick,
because all the world would immediately exclaim, I There is
the handsomest couple in the world!' but I cannot countenance such inordinate vanity."' It is more a matter of curiosity, to ascertain how I should
feel in dancing, for once, with an unwilling partner."'You would be as mueh uplifted by the honor as Abon
Hassan durincg his one day of being a caliph; but, seriously,
Miss Fitz-Patrick, I have got what is called in this country
a sitting-down cold, and I was, besides, given over by the
doctors yesterday with a sprained ankle.  Pray let me settle
here quietly-for life."
Eleanor gave a conscious look, and a blush, at these inadvertent words of Sir Alfred, to which Matilda perceived that
she attributed as much meaning as they could carry, while
she jestingly replied" Then I must make away with myself, since you give me
no hope, for I am like time and tide, which wait for nobody;
and once lost can never be recalled-Going! going! gone!.'
Sir Alfred looked much relieved at the departure of his
lively persecutor, and re-established himself in his retreat
near the piano, where Matilda observed the inward diversion
with which he seemed to watch some daring mlanoeuvres of
Mrs. Clifford to provide her daughters with partners for a
quadrille which was about to be formed, and before long she
had so far succeeded, that Miss Charlotte alone remained
disposable.
" ir. Grant! will you be so obliging as to help me on with
this scarf?" said Mrs. Clifford, stopping that gentleman when
he was about to glide past. s" The room is so cold that my
teeth are chattering in time to the music! How I envy you
young people who can keep yourselves warm with dancing!
Do you mean to join the next quadrille?"
" Yes! and if there are twenty more I am engaged for
them all," replied he, hurrying past, with his laughing eyes
fixed on Lady Susan, whom as usual he had been teasing.
MIrs. Clifford now moved a little way on, till she caught a
glimpse of Colonel Pendarvis; but when she had manceuvred
herself within two yards of him, he suddenly claimed Miss:
Fitz-Patrick as his partner, and walked off, while the baffled



1)76                MIODERN SOCIETY,
lady turned round And looked for a moment at Sir Alfred,
but evidently considering it,a forlorn hope to attack him,
she reserved her powers for what seemed possible.'" Ahl 
Major Foley! have you not secured a partner yet?- allow
me to  A"
" Miss Clifford, you are quite right not to dance any mnore,"
interrupted he, hurrying off. " I am tired myself of beating
the carpet all night; but really to see dancing like yours to
such disadvantage quite shocks me."
" Can any one tell me where!Miss Fitz-Patrick is?' asked
Lord Alderby, who had been for some time wandering about
with his glass at his eye. " She sent me for a carmellia to the
conservatory, and promised to wait here and be my partner,
if I returned in time.7"
" Miss Fitz-Patrick went off the inestant you left her, with
Colonel Pendarvis; but my daughter Charlotte is disengaged."
" Insufferably hot rooms!" continned Lord Alderby, with
perfect nonchalance; "I must positively look out for a more
endurable atmosphere."
"CMiss Clifford," said Matilda, who felt for the awkwardness of that young lady's situation, " here is a vacant
chair which looks inviting, beside me, and perhaps you would
add a note or two of accompaniment in the treble to enliven
my playing.'
" Thank you! but if no better partner occurs to-night, I
would rather dance with a chair than sit on one.  Nothing
is half so dull as looking on at the enjoyments of other people!
But here comes my usual pis-aller, Sir Colin —I wish it may
never be my lot to marry him, as a last resource, for he is
always so convenient."
G; You mnight do worse, and you could scarcely do better,"
said Mrs. Clifford, in a jocular tone.  "Young ladies have
many more offers of a partner to dance, than of a partner for
life, so they may afford to be much more fastidious in the one
than in the other.'
"Pray, Sir Colin, where is your friend, Sir Jonathan
Fowler, at present," asked Miss Charlotte, arresting  his
steps,
"I cannot be quite certain whether he is at this moment
in Rome or in Naples!" replied the baronet, looking
rather surprised at so unexpected a question; "but I am
searching for Miss Fitz-Patrick, to tell her such a capital
anecdote — "




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.           177
"Stop one single moment, then i" cried Miss Charlotte,
as he was hastening past; "I would not for worlds miss
seeing the effect of your story on- Eleanor!-how she will
laugh — do take me with you to enjoy it also."
Sir Colin looked delighted to have his vanity so flattered;
but when the young lady took his arm with an air of discontented resignation, she stole a satirical glance at her mother,
and affected to suppress a yawn already, as she disappeared
in the crowd.
At last Matilda heard a sudden commotion behind-hopes
of release seemed unexpectedly to dawn upon her-supper
was announced; and scarcely had she time to look round,
before every one had rushed like a torrent to the diningroom, leaving her apparently alone at the pianoforte, where
she could compare herself to nothing but a upas-tree in the
desert, so completely did she at that moment feel like an
alien from society. An unaccountable spell seemed over
her, and though partly suspecting that it was by the manoeuvres and descriptions of Eleanor, that she had become
such a mute in the drama, still that only served to aggravate
her vexation, and to make her long the more anxiously for
home, where she would again be restored to proper consideration and respect.  A moment served for these thoughts,
and Matilda rose to hasten towards her own room, when she
was suddenly addressed by a well-known voice, which arrested her steps, and caused the color to rise on her cheek,
with surprise. She turned instantly round and saw Sir A1fred Douglas approaching, while he evinced in his manner a
degree of agitation, and even of embarrassment, not less than
her own.
"Miss Howard," said he, vainly trying to conquer a certain
tremulousness of voice, " I have been anxious for an opportanity to express my astonishment and pleasure at finding you
here-! We once agreed formerly-and nothing you ever
said escapes my recollection-that all great emotions shun
observation. Mine certainly do, and you might judge of
their extent to-day, if you could only know the effort which
it caused me to control them."
" You succeeded so well, Sir Alfred, that I scarcely felt
conscious till now of your having been interested at all on
the occasion.  I am truly glad on the score of our former
intimacy, that we do not really meet now as strangers."
" I trusted that you had known me better, Miss Howard
-that you had long understood me-that you never would




I yeMODERN SOCIETY,
measure my feelings by the degree in which they are exhibited before the world!-stranger's, did you say?-why
cannot I tell you at this moment all the injury you do me
by such a supposition, and how unwillingly I would live to
see that hour? But I must trust to your' forbearance at
present, and ask you to believe, that during the long period of nia absence, it has been my —my first wish to return,
and claim the place I once hoped to have in —in your recollection. Time alone can show how far I may merit its
continuance, but we must begin where we left off, with at
least being friends.  More I would say, if I'were at liberty
to do so, but the day will come when          In short,
Miss Howard, you well know how reserved I am to the
world, but to you I would be perfectly open, and if ever I
seem otherwise, ascribe it to anything rather than indifference."'
Matilda's color fled and returned, in rapid succession, during these few hurried words from Sir Alfred. She bent
her head to conceal the emotion which his manner could not
fail to excite, and the long dark fringes of her eyelids dropt
on her cheek, while he anxiously watched for the sound of
that voice which was so interesting to him, and so exquisitely
harmonious that all who heard it once must have wished to
hear it again, but he waited in vain, for she could not reply,
and a pause of some moments ensued.
This was by no means the first time that a similar warmth
of feeling had been testified in the manner and expressions
of Sir Alfred, and she could not but remember now the deep
interest with which his former language once inspired her.
Whenever they were alone, he had then always relaxed from
the frozen stateliness and reserve of his general manner, and
betrayed all that energy and enthusiasm of character which
were peculiarly his own; but such an immediate relapse into
formality took place, when there appeared a chance of being observed, that she often, on subsequent reflection, felt
painfully perplexed to account for his conduct, and had even
occasionally doubted his sincerity; yet it was impossible for
her to do so now, when his ardent language was seconded by
an expression of reality in his countenance which could not
be misinterpreted.
Matilda had been frequently told by Lady Howard, that
men of great conceit and little principle are in the practice
of endeavoring to make a first impression on young and un.
sophisticated hearts, knowing that neither time nor circum




1% THE. XMAnRC OF -INTELLEOT.         I79
stanees can ever afterwards obliterate those earliest rememnbrances; but no one could suspect Sir Alfred of vanity, seeing the wide field he might havehad for it exercise, and
that, with everything to render his attentions acceptable, he
seemed careless of showing any,. except to one only, who
would have been as unwilling, as she was unable to suspect
him of deceit.  Yet Matilda felt incapable of speaking, from
an apprehension of betraying more agitation than the occasion warranted, for it might appear by that means as if
she attached too much importance to language which was
evidently guarded, and seemed meant to be ambiguous; she
therefore remained in perplexed and agitated silence.
"I have been abrupt and precipitate, Miss Howard." continued Sir Alfred; "but such an accidental opportunity as
the present might not occur again.  I was impatient to
assure you that no change of scene has made me forget the
hours we passed together formerly, and that I anticipated
nothing on my return with so much ardor as the renewal of
our intimacy. You know me to be a man of few words, yet
those few may be implicitely relied on. But for an impediment which cannot at present be explained, my first object
on reaching this country would have been to     "
A sound of voices was heard ascending the staircase, and
at this moment Mr. Grant, with his usual joyous hilarity,
entered the room, and walked up at once to the pianoforte.
" Miss Howard!" he exclaimed, in acdents of astonishment,
on observing how visibly she was agitated; but instantly
afterwards, with a degree of delicacy and tact which could
scarcely have been anticipated, he added in the same tone of
surprise-" is it possible that you have had no supper?  I
see you are a more incorrigible student than was represented by Miss Fitz-Patrick, for you would rather sit here
reading a music-book, than not read at all. She tells me
that you think the dullest book in the world better than the
best conversation; but Douglas and I must undeceive you on
that point, by doing the agreeable for once in our lives."
Mr. Grant could not resist a sly glance at Sir Alfred, who
had be-en examining a print to conceal his countenance, but
now looked up with much of his usual calmness and selfpossession.
"1 have not the same happy c)nfidenae in my powers
that you feel in yours, Grant. One who so continually exercises them for the benefit of every person indiscriminately,
ought to be in good practice; whereas I so seldom care- to




180                MODERN SOCIlETY,.
please, that I scarcely deserve success, even where it i's of
most importance."
Mr. Grant looked with momentary'surprise from Sir Alfred to Matilda; but it was only instantaneous, for he immediately reassumed an appearance of total unconsciousness,
saying in his usual tone of heedless vivacity, "' Miss Howard,
I have not yet heard a single Latin quotation, nor a syllable
about the Greek participles!  Pray, if we by chance fell
into conversation, how long might I depend upon its continuing in plain English?"
"You may have bail for the rest of my life," said she,
trying to recover herself. " My own language is good enough
for anything I have to say; but Eleanor's sketch of me was
so formidable this morning, that it is to be hoped no one
will ever find it bear any resemblance. I might have said on
that occasion, as a Spanish officer did, who saw himself for
the first time in uniform,-' With such an aspect I have
even a terror of myself.' "
" Miss Fitz-Patrick's pictures are all mere daubs, loaded
with color, but not in correct drawing," observed Sir Alfred.
A" On most occasions I prefer my own judgment to other
people's descriptions."
"If every one did the same I should not perhaps be so
completely under the ban of Eleanor's coterie at present;
but she amused herself by giving a most ludicrous representation. which makes the boldest people- afraid of me; and
really, of all solitudes in the world, there is none, you know,
so great as being alone in a crowd."
"I like it above everything," said Sir Alfred; " but you
should imitate Miss Charlotte Clifford, whose enterprising
attempts at conversation I observed you watching to-day;
and certainly, Miss Howard, any one might have been envious of her success, especially considering that you were
placed at dinner, where on neither side had you the smallest
chance of being listened to."
" That cannot be levelled at me of course," observed Mr.
Grant.  " The fact is, that I require a great deal of drawing
out, and Miss Fitz-Patrick, by way of doing so, talks incessantly herself, so that I really had not time so much as to
give a cough all dinner-time."
"A propos, Grant! I always intended to ask your receipt
for making young ladies conversable, because I never saw
you introduced to one yet without her being instantly in
a state of animated volubility."




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            1'81
"Keep my secret, then, and you shall hear it. VWhenever
I am lazy about talking, and can imagine nothing else to
say, I ask my new acquaintance if she knows Captain' Campbell?' Immediately half-a-dozen gentlemen of that name
start up to her recollection, and she is eager to know which
of them I mean. Of course they must all be described, and
before their histories are completed, the quadrille terminates,
and it is time for us to separate."
" That might do for a ball, but it will scarcely get you
though the three courses of a dinner-party."
"Ah! that requires more arrangement.  Begin with finding the room insufferably hot, or intensely cold; complain
of being oppressed with innumerable dinner engagements,
and remark how much you hate crowded parties; fall into
raptures with the last concert, but disparage most of the
performer's; find out a likeness for the Prima Donna, and
compare the German and Italian schools, remarking, of
course, that Rossini borrows from himself, and how unlucky
it was that Weber died before he wrote more; then start
fair with the last novel, and your business is done."
A lively dialogue ensued, which continued to be kept up
with characteristic humor and animation on all sides, till at
length it took a still more interesting turn; and in the interchange of sentiments and opinions which ensued, Matilda
was pleased to see traits of good sense and of right feeling in
Mr. Grant, for which she had scarcely been prepared, from
the general care-for-nobody tone of his conversation.  She
could be surprised at no degree of talent or feeling that
were evinced by Sir Alfred, knowing that the exhibition of
both, in their highest degree, was only checked by his habitual reserve, which he seemed for the present to have laid
aside; and Matilda herself, while she was delighted with the
observations of others, insensibly revealed the hidden,depths
of her own mind, with which few would not have been captivated when it was thoroughly known, for the naivete of youth
were united to a degree of candor and originality in expressing her thoughts, which attracted instant confidence and
regard.
At length a rush of voices in the ante-room preceded the
entrance of Eleanor, leaning on Lord Alderby's arm, and
followed by a numerous train of satellites; but before they
appeared, Sir Alfred quietly resumed his former position on
the sofa, apparently in a state of entire abstraction, while




182                 MODERN SOCIETY,
Mr. Grant continued his sentence to Miss Howard, without
expressing any surprise at this sudden desertion.
"' Matilda!! I am quite petrified to find you here!" cried
Eleanor, who was generally petrified or thunderstruck at
least three times a-day.  " Have n't you bad any supper?
We left some jelly below, and the drumstick of a turkey-a
ding-dong, as. Mrs. Ramsbottomn calls it; so pray go down,
and see what you could fancy."
Miss Howard professed an utter distaste for suppers, and
gladly seized the earliest opportunity of quietly stealing to
her own room, where, her heart fluttering with emotion, and
her countenance glowing with happiness, which she scarcely
dared confess even to herself, she hastily cast herself on a
seat near the window, and began an agitated review of all
that had been said by Sir Alfred.  It was impossible not to
become convinced of his sincerity now, and she felt that his
had been the tacit declaration of a preference to which the
confidence of her whole heart might be given. That some
impediment prevented a more full explanation, seemed to
have been implied; but she knew Sir Alfred to be gifted
with an almost chivalrous sense of honor, which could not be
too implicitly relied on, and she gave her mind up to the belief that he had long been, and still continued to be, attached
to herself.  Often before, as the guardian of her own happiness, she had called in the warning voice of prudence to remind her how many made shipwreck of their happiness by
too ready a credulity on these subjects; but now she felt
that not only was it justifiable to credit all Sir Alfred
said, but that it would be unjustifiable any longer to doubt
his professions; and, before she turned her mind upon the
more serious thoughts and duties of the evening, Matilda
endeavored to compose herself by a pleasing remembrance
of many past scenes, which, till now, she had frequently endeavored to forget.




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            183
CHAPTER XIII.
The broad unfeeling mirth that folly wears,
Less pleases far than virtue's very tears.
GOLDSMITH.
THE silver crescent of a cloudless moon shone in solemn
brightness over the distant hills, and lighted up the gaunt,
bare skeletons of many ancient trees, throwing their shadows
upon the grass beneath, while the deep blue sky was studded
with countless stars, which were reflected in the dark, gloomy
bosom of the silent waters, when Matilda looked abroad to
admire the mysterious tranquillity of nature, before she prepared for consigning herself to repose.  What Christian can
gaze long or often on the majestic grandeur of the starry
heavens, and not be lost in contemplation of its more than
earthly glory, while the heart soars above those abject cares
and personal feelings which belong to a present life, and is
filled with the prospect of an eternal destiny? Matilda's
mind expanded in the thoughts of futurity, and she anticipated that time when the remembrance of every worldly cmotion would seem, in her own estimation, like the momentary
ripple occasioned by a summer breeze on the fathomless
ocean. A pleasing calm diffused itself over her meditations,
and she was about to leave the window, and begin preparing
to retire for the night, when she became suddenly startled to
observe the dim shadow of a human figure, pacing rapidly
up and down near the margin of the river, with vehement
gesticulations, and almost maniacal energy of manner.  Occasionally the person, who seemed to be a female, disappeared for some moments beneath the dark shadows of the
forest, but again she emerged, and at length stooping down,
where a large bundle was laid on the grass, she untied it, and
drew out a quantity of shawls and ribbons, which she proceeded to hang in fantastic draperies on herself. After
arranging and altering their positions in every capricious
form, she heaped them all on with frantic haste, and began
gazing at a reflection of her own figure in the moonlit sur



184                 MODERN SOCIETY,
face of the river, as it swept rapidly past beneath the window.  Matilda stood transfixed to the spot, and a thrill of
apprehension ran through her frame, foi it suddenly flashed
upon her mind that this could be no other than Nanny,
whose eccentric gestures and strange appearance caused so
much terror and surprise.  Still she wished to doubt, and
knew not what to think or do.  No one in the house could
possibly be called, and Matilda remembered, not without
fear, that a door which communicated with the terrace, led
by a back-staircase to the large lumber-room opposite her
own, and that in all probability the poor girl had gone out
in that way, by which she might at any time return. While
these alarming thoughts darted into her mind, a voice suddenly rose on the midnight air, in tones of wild and high
excitement. Matilda listened in breathless agitation, for
she traced the broken snatches of hymns and tunes which
had once been familiar companions of her own childhood;
a moment afterwards, however, they died away in low and
melancholy cadences till the voice became utterly inaudible.
Touched by remembering former times, and deeply affected
by the discovery of Nanny's situation, Matilda banished at
once every personal feeling, and nerving her resolution to
the utmost, she instantly threw up a window, and called
aloud to the poor girl, who stood immediately beneath the
castle wall.  A faint echo alone replied; and though she
waved her handkerchief, and tried by every device to attract
attention, it was all in vain; Nanny stood motionless, and
apparently unconscious, till suddenly she raised a wild hys
terical shriek, and Matilda heard for the first time that fear
ful laugh of insanity, which none who have once known j
can ever afterwards forget.  Her courage now appeared entirely to have failed, she leaned against the window for support, and it seemed as if her heart had ceased to beat. The
first suggestion of fear was to make fast her own door; but
even terror could not make Matilda entirely selfish, and
knowing that it would be vain to ring her bell, she anxiously thought how assistance could be mlost immediately obtained for securing the poor girl's safety.  She looked again,
and saw Nanny wildly stretch her arms towards the river,
and rush down to its very margin.  There she threw off her
bonnet, and fell on her knees, while her long dark hair
floated on her shoulders, and she clasped her hands above
her head with a look of mortal agony, and of desperate resolution. Matilda snatched up her candle and instantly flew




OR THE MARCH OT INTELLECT.            185
down stairs. Contrary to her usual timidity of disposition,
she formed an immediate resolution, not by the loss of one
single moment to spare her own feelings in a case like the
present, where life or death seemed at hazard; and without
an instant's pause, she rapidly glided into the drawing-room,
where Sir Richard and the other gentlemen were on the
point of dispersing. Matilda's steps faltered, and her color
rose when she saw their evident astonishment at her unexpected presence. lBut personal consideration at such a time
are nothing to a generous mind, and advancing straight to
her uncle, she grasped his arm, and related what had occurred in a few words.
MIr. Grant comprehended the whole at once, and rushed
out, followed by Sir Alfred and the other gentlemen, while
Matilda remained behind, knowing that her presence could
now be of no use; but she told Sir Riclbard, that, if Nanny
were brought to the housekeeper's room, everything should
be prepared for her there.  She then aroused Mrs. Gordon,
and several of the maids from their slumbers, and caused a
fire to be rekindled in the grate; but when all was ready,
and nothing more could be done, Matilda became alarmed at
hearing no tidings from the gentlemen, and her heart sunk
with apprehension. Every breath of wind seemed like the
sound of their footsteps, and every moment that passed
served to increase her fears. At length, more than half an
hour had elapsed, when the door flew open, and Mr. Grant
entered, bearing in his arms the apparently lifeless form of
Nanny, which he hastily placed on a sofa near the fire. Matilda felt that her hair and her clothes were streaming with
wet, and it became evident that she had been rescued from a
watery grave, but scarcely one word of explanation was given
relating to the circumstances.  Mr. Grant, indeed, began a
hasty narrative, apparently descriptive of great danger and
exertion, which were not his own; but Sir Alfred, who stood
near, gave him a look commanding silence, and, with a shrug
and a grimace of humorous submission, he obeyed.
W~ith silent, heartfelt thankfulness for the safety of every
one, and a tear of pity for the unfortunate Nanny, Matilda;
proceeded to use every means to promote recovery; and having at last succeeded in restoring apparent consciousness, she
calmly requested the gentlemen to withdraw, that the poor
girl's dress might be changed for what was wa.rm and dry.
Against being left without protection, however, Mrs. Gordon
loudly, and almost angrily, remonstrated, saying she would as




t 86                MODERN SOCIETY,
soon be in the presence of a ghost as of a madwoman.  "Bodies without spirits, or spirits without bodies, I don't know
which is worst, Miss Howard! but I cannot possibly remain
in the room with only you and me, and this poor dagft creature.  Her head is just turned with vanity, and I always
thought she would come to no good."
" There is nothing the matter with me, but that I wish to
put an end to myself!" shrieked Nanny, starting up with a
sudden desperation, which caused Mrs. Gordon to retreat in
terror.  "I wish to put an end to tmyself," repeated she, deliberately, while her large dilated eyes were fastened on Matilda, with an expression which appalled for the moment, and
blanched her cheek with awe and apprehension.  "Why am
I here? Let me go 1 I heard a voice that called me! I hear
it now!'Let me go! I am wanted! I tell you there is
nothing the matter, but I want to get away from myself!
Oh! I have such horrid, horrid dreams!"
" Nanny!"' said Matilda, making a powerful effort to conquer her own fears, and addressing the maniac in tones of
touching softness; "MIly poor Nanny!" continued she, laying
her hand on the unfortunate girl's arm, and fixing her eye
intently on hers, with an expression of kindness, though it
was difficult to fasten a sterady gaze on the eye-balls, glaring
like living coals, which were bent on herself, with an unnatural stare.  " Do you remember Ashgrove, Nanny?   Do you
ever think of Lady Olivia and the Sunday-school'?  She
was very kind to you, Nanny, and she always said you would
do well."
"I want to go where she is! I would have done it, but
they will not let me," whispered Nanny, in a low husky voice,
while a frightful wintry smile came over her rigid features.
i" Say nothing about it-I'll do that yet! I'll put an end
to myself —there's nothing else the matter!"
"But, Nanny, it is impossible to follow Lady Olivia, unless you bear sorrow patiently, as she did.  We wish to be
kind to you-no one shall believe any of those foolish stories.
I have contradicted them all."
At these words, Mrs. Gordon angrily drew up, with a look
of injured merit, being one of those individuals who never
for one moment forget their own personal feelings, even while
witnessing the utmost extreme of human misery; and she
considered it an impeachment of her credit, in the government of Sir Richard's household, that any person should




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.              187
doubt of Nanny's guilt, when she had so decidedly condenined her.
"None of us are fit for a better world before we are called
to it, Nanny.  You know the apple is not ripe till it falls
from the tree, and you must stay your time, while the sun
shines, or while the rain falls, because all is needful to prepare us.  Do you remember this hymn, Nanny?  Many
times you said the words long ago:-'Grace alone can cure our ills,
Sweeten life with all its cares.'"
"Yes!" said Nanny, while her eyes gradually softened
into a look of recollection:"' Though you oft have heard in vain,
Former years in folly spent,
Grace invites you yet again,
Once more calls you to repent.'
The unnatural fire which had glared in the unfortunate
girl's eyes became suddenly quenched in tears, while large,
big drops slowly coursed each other down her cheeks, and at
length, clasping her hands over her face, she burst into a
passionate fit of weeping, which lasted for a length of time
with frightful vehemence.
" You may leave us now in perfect safety," whispered
Matilda, turning calmly to Sir Alfred and Mr. Grant, who
lingered near the door, and seemed still unwilling to depart.
"'I can manage perfectly now-more of the servants are
come, and she will probably soon be composed when they
have placed her in bed."
Mr. Grant looked at Matilda with a degree of grave and
serious interest very different from his usual manner, and
answered, in a tone of respectful kindness,-" May we feel
sure, Miss Howard, that your own powers are not overtasked? —with so much sympathy as you evidently feel, this
is a very trying scene.  W~e must be allowed to remain until
medical aid arrives, which Sir Richard has sent-without delay
to SUllmon."
The proposal of staying was warmnly seconded by Sir Alfred, and not many minutes afterwards Dr. Mackenzie arrived.  Having bled his patient copiously, and prescribed a
composing draught, he desired that the room might be left
quiet.  The whole party then dispersed, and Matilda appeared as if she were retiring also, but having contrived to




188                 MODERN SOCIETY,
elude observation, she glided noiselessly tack, and gently
placed herself by the bedside of Nanny, making signs to the
housemaid, who was also in attendance, that she might be
seated.  Morning dawned, and the grey twilight dimly
diffused itself over the landscape, before Matilda's prayers
and watchings were ended; but at length, seeing that Nanny's
eyes were closed in sleep, though her slumber was agitated
and disturbed, she stole out of the room, and sought for that
repose which-her own frame so greatly needed.
Nothing could be more irritating to the jealous spirit of
Eleanor, than next morning to observe with what interest and
empressement Matilda was received on her entrance to breakfast by all those who had witnessed her generous exertions
and heartfelt benevolence during the previous night; and
nothing could have exhibited more evidently her own good
sense and discretion, than the calm self-possession with which
she endeavored to pass over all her own share in what had
happened, by changing the subject of discussion entirely,
though her quiet, unobtrusive attempts to do so did not at
once succeed. Each gentleman, as he came in, renewed her
embarrassment, by expressing the most anxious solicitude lest
she might have suffered friom her exertions; while she, with
that instinctive sympathy which enabled her to read the
thoughts of every one, felt perfectly conscious of her cousin's
annoyance, and tried to save her feelings by retiring as much
from notice as possible.  Eleanor heard a distorted account
of the whole scene which took place during the previous
evening from Pauline, corroborated by Mrs. Gordon.  Sir
Richard's valet also gave a similar statement to his master,
by which a prejudice had been fixed in the minds of both, and
they were fully persuaded that Nanny had been equally criminal and indiscreet; in consequence of which orders were
given for her immediate removal to Gowan Bank. Miss
Fitz-Patrick thought she had done a great act of liberality
by ordering that Dr. Mackenzie should attend the invalid,
and spare no expense in the remedies he prescribed; but
having done this, she felt entitled to dismiss the subject from
her thoughts, and considered it an injury in any one to recall what was so disagreeable.
Eleanor, during the commencement of breakfast, was for
once grave and silent.  This might have been attributed to
sorrow and self-reproach for the sufferings of her protege, had
there not been a shade of anger on her countenance, and
of irritability in her tone of voice, which evinced anything




ORf THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.          189
rather than amiable feelings. Matilda resolutely closed her
eyes to this, until forced at last to see it, for the color rushed
unbidden into her countenance, when she heard Eleanor say,
in an audible whisper, to Miss Marabout, " All got up for
effect!-so fond of a scene!-some people like on any terms
to be conspicuous."' Absurd!" replied the ci-devant governess; "what have
people in Nanny's line of life to do with fine feelings? Miss
Howard has encouraged it all; and that sort of thing is as
much out of its place in the poor creature's mind, as if she
wore a Brussels lace dress. It is evidently done to gain
some purpose, and I am glad she is to be sent home immediately.  For my own part, I have long suspected the girl
was a little insane, and would not for worlds live an hour in
the house with any person convicted of being mad."
" There is more than one person in this house who seems
to me a little mad, Miss Howard!" said Mr. Armstrong, in
an undertone.  "Have you not thought better of all I said
to you?  It is a good move on a chess-board to take the
castle, and I could pawn  my credit on the enterprise succeeding, if your own wilfulness does not check-mate the whole
affair. Would it be worth while to know how the knave was
once played to advantage already, and how you could give a
Roland for an Oliver?"
"I already mentioned, Mr. Armstrong, that, if you can
produce a fair and open statement of anything in which my
interests are concerned, it will give me pleasure to hear it
fully explained; but nothing underhand can possibly receive countenance from me, nor shall I allow myself to be
made the depository of malicious inuendos against my uncle
or my cousin on any occasion whatever, and especially here."
Meantime, Sir Alfred buried himself behind a widely extended sheet of " the Times," and seemed utterly insensible
of all that was passing around; while Mr. Grant leaned familiarly over the back of his chair, and made a running commentary on the news of the day, which afterwards diverged
into discussions of an approaching ballot at the club.
"'Above all things, avoid electing any busy, legislating
men," observed Sir' Alfred.  "There should always be a
second ballot at the end of a year, to ascertain if new members may be permitted to remain."
"Admirable! I shall suggest that when our next meeting
takes place. How it would thin the ranks. Poor Sir Colin,
among all those he belongs to, would not survive to tell his




190                 MODERN SOCIETY,
next story at one of them. I am assured that, in London,
he belongs to three or four."
" Quite a knave of clubs! I shall take my name out of
White's, or the Traveller's, if they ever admit himi."
" To myself and others, who are on committee at the Albion, nothing is half so troublesome to manage as a country
gentleman, who has been accustomed to rule his wife, his
children, and his tenantry. People who go into society, and
mingle with strangers, become ten times more tranquil about
trifles; but a man who lives constantly at home is in a perpetual storm  about the merest bagatelles.  From being accustomed to domineer without resistance, every fault he finds
with our managemenet is pronounced disgraceful, atrocious,
or unheard-of at the very least; while he puts himself in a
perfect uproar to know if such a thing was ever done before
in any comlmunity —most likely something that everybody
does every day, and which I have probably done fifty times
myself."
" Ah, yes! people who live always on their own property
get such an overgrown opinion of its importance, that they
become like the mouse in a chest, who could not believe that
there was anything larger or greater in the whole world.
Society is a perfect Procrustes's bed for reducing~ these imaginary giants to their proper level; and it does them an infinite deal of good to be several times black-balled at a club
before admission.7"
" How it spoils gentlemen when they begin to intermeddle
with news!" said Eleanor, looking with an air of pique at
the two friends, particularly Mr. Grant, whose altered manner towards herself appeared now, for the first time, to strike
her.  "Politics destroy conversation, and clubs ruin all the
comfort of domestic life."
"I beg leave to differ from the last speaker!" cried Mir.
Grant, breaking off from  his studies.  "Now, Miss FitzPatrick! argument is better than assertion; so maintain
your position, and try if it be possible to convince me."
" Can you deny that a thorough club-monger is scarcely
ever at home? so how can he be domestic?  He bustles off
early in the day, to spell over all the provincial papers, till
it is time to get anxious about the London post. When that
arrives, he greedily seizes one newspaper, and keeps his eye
fixed upon some person, from whom he hopes to secure another. After these are concluded, he must have his pool at




OR THE MARCH- OF IN'fELL.ECOT.         191
billiards, and probably ends the evening by playing a rubber
at whist with two friends and a dummy."
"Ah! you are describing some miserable old bachelor
with no attractions to take him home."
"6 As for that, a man who has married upon nothing, which
means, you know, in London, about twelve hundred a-year,
may, for the merest trifle, enjoy at his club the most splendid
sitting-rooms, gilded like a lord mayor's coach, and lighted
up like Alladin's palace, while his dinner is prepared by a
French cook, and served up in a degree of lux ury and splendor fit for an emperor. Only fancy such a man going occasionally home to a dusky parlor, in the twilight of one pair
of candles-his wife and his dinner both ill-dressed-a perpetual talk of economy ringing in his ears-and probably a
noisy tumult of troublesome children, throwing his room and
his brains into disorder.  Now, if he knew no better, the
poor man might learn to call that social happiness and fireside peace; but having a club for his refuge, he falls into a
paroxysm of disgust, and exit."
"What an entire want of sentiment is ascribed to us, Miss
Fitz-Patrick! Do you suppose we are insensible to the felicities of domestic confidence,-the sweet interchange of mutual affection,-the-the-  In short, let us read the last chapter of any novel we can lay our hands on, which will express
exactly what I mean."
" Ah! but you never see any hero of a novel who is described as being both a domestic married man and a member
of White's.  All stories end with the happy couple going off
like a sky-rocket in a brilliant flame of love and happiness;
but if we could only see the result, nothing comes back but
the stick.  I have already superintended the rise and fall
of several very romantic love-matches, and invariably, if the
gentleman was a professed frequenter of clubs, he relapsed
almost immediately into bachelor habits.  Mutual indifference is the consequence; and positively many married people, without any actual quarrel, have, nevertheless, so little
intercourse, that I am confident, if some kind fairy offered
to give each separately all the comforts they now enjoy, on
condition of their never meeting again, it would be a mutual
relief."
"' Ah! Miss Fitz-Patrick! to a man of my exquisite sensibility, what an incredible picture that appears! Such is my
idea of domestic happiness, that since no lady can be pre.
vailed on to accept me, I have actually ordered a frame of




192                 MODERN SOCtETY)
worsted work to be placed in my sitting-room; and my parrot is taught to cry out in an angry voice, whenever I enter
the room —-' Where have you been all day, Tom?' merely to
keep me in mind of the felicity which may one day be mine
with my future better half."
"' You can scarcely be disappointed. if that be all," replied
Eleanor, laughing and coloring.  "I hope, Sir Alfred, your
standard of perfection in ladies is as moderate?"
" Mine is so high that I have never but once seen any one
to reach it."
Observing the emphasis with which Sir Alfred spoke,
Eleanor evidently applied it to herself, and dropt her eyes
with a look of gratified consciousness; but had she happened
to notice his intended application of the words! He merely
darted one momentary glance towards the interesting countenance of Matilda, who was tying up her bouquet, and resumed his newspaper.'' You complain, Miss Fitz-Patrick, of gentlemen being too
much absent from their own houses,' continued Mr. Grant;' but if I were a young lady, nothing would be half so formida.ble to me as the prospect of ever having what is called'an attentive husband!' A man with nothing to do —always
at home,-always in the way, and perpetually expecting to
be amused; —who asks in the morning when you mean to
walk, and cannot be got rid of on any terms,-equally ready
to shop, or visit, or stroll in the country, and to whom, in
short, no plan for the day can be proposed so odious as to
make you sure to get rid of his society."
" I may certainly answer for it already, that there are sonme
gentlemen who can on no terums be got quit of!  Mr. Armstrong! I'll trouble you to ring the bell — people who stay
in your house, like a wasp upon a window-pane, buzzing
about the table at meals, and keeping one in perpetual hot
water. Mr. Armstrong, will you fill the tea-pot? It breaks
my arm to reach so far."
"Those wasps you speak of are very dangerous sometimes,
and can sting severely," said Mr. Armstrong, in a slow tone
of suppressed rage.  " I would advise you, Miss Fitz-Patrick, to beware of irritating them."'
" Ah! Lord Alderby! good morning! I guess you sat up
all night, in order to be down in such excellent time! Pray,
give us a new idea upon the weather!"
"I always prophesy rain every morning in this country,
and am sure to be. right before evening."




3iR THE MARCH OrF INTELLECT.          193
They tell me that this day is cold, -fne,-freezing, —
likely to thaw,-likely to snow,-and likely to hold up!how does all this promise for my skating party?"
" Eleanor! your tea will'be fit to skate upon, if we don't
get it soon!" exclaimed Sir Richard impatiently.'I never
saw any woman yet who could make it tolerably."
"Papa! if there is an accomplishment on earth that I
excel in, it is this!-but the most deserving people are generally traduced by an ungrateful public!"
" I have some good ne'zs to give you!" added the baronet,
glancing rather dubiously at a remarkably ill-folded, awkward-looking letter, which he handed to his daughter. " Captain TI'Tartan, R. N., has appointed himself to this station
for three weeks, if quite conven2ient."
" Captain M'Tartan!" cried Eleanor, faintly; " I thought
he had sailed to Africa, or the West Indies, or somewhere
of that kind, which would have rid us of him entirely! I
had even been considering how a black velvet trimming
would do on my bonnet! but Scotch cousins have been a
proverbial bore all over the world ever since I entered it,
and will probably continue so, as long as we remain."
" I consider that remark as intended to be personal, Miss
Fitz-Patrick," said Sir Alfred, looking off his newspaper.
" Oh! you are enough to exculpate the whole race I But
did you ever see Captain M'Tartan?  Such a man!-he is
my beam, ideal of vulgarity! His face is not merely weatherbeaten, but it looks as if he had been in a storm all his
life!-I can't be in the room with him, he is so ugly."
4" But, my dear grl! you have not seen him for ages,"
cried Sir Richard.  "He went to the Mediterranean and to
Petersburg when you were a perfect child; and no one here
has been in company with him since."
"'People do not improve with years, and I never forget
anybody. In that respect, my memory is like the Royal
Family's, and my abhorrence of Captain M-Tartan began
before I was ten. He fastened my eyelids together with
sticking-plaster in the school-room, when I fell asleep over
my lessons, and persuaded me that I had become suddenly
blind. His whole wit consisted in those sort of silly practical jokes, and mlanvaises pl.zisanteries, which I detest when
they are played upon myself."
"Let me tell you, Eleanor! that Donald AMTartan is one
of the most distinguished officers in our service," said Sir
Richard, rather angrily.  "You may be very proud of the
9




04                  w Omn TM N SOCIETY,
connection, for he showed prodigious spirit at Algiers and
Navarino.  It is said that he has already received nine-andtwenty wounds in battle."
" Then I must take care not to wound his feelings, or that
would be the thirtieth."
" And much the most difficult to bear!" added Lord Alderby, with a very asthmatic attempt at a sigh.' He always speaks nautical language, too, as officers are
represented doing in naval novels, though never heard in real
life," added Eleanor. It is like dining at the United Service Club to hear him talk! He'heaves to' when he comes
up to one;'casts anchor' when he sits down; and' fires a
broadside' of words whenever he opens his mouth.  But his
worst crime is yet to come I Having been intimate in our
house when I was a child, he still calls me in this letter Eleanor! Nothing can be a surer test of vulgarity than that familiar way of naming to others our acquaintances, or even
our near connections in their absence.  I already know
one or two misses professing to understand good manners,
who talk of gentlemen with whom  they are intimate, as
6 Jack,'' Dicl,' or' Tom.' "
" To be sure!" said Mr. Grant.  "We have a right to
be as intimate as we please with those who are not present
to contradict us! I always speak of'my friend, Cairngo-rum,'
and'that excellent fellow, Dumbartonshire,' though certainly, if they entered the room at this moment, I am not
sure if either of them could recollect me, seeing we only met
once."
"People of a certain calibre are not entitled to know
whether I have a Christian name or not!"'; continued Eleanor, looking at lMr. Armstrong.'" Captain M'Tartan is, in
all respects, exactly like a great, overgrown schoolboy. I
would rather go about with no face at all, than exhibit such
a physiognomy as he does, and his laugh seems to ring in
my ears already, it is so outrageous.  Well! inevitable evils
must be endured, and there is no perfect happiness in this
world, as Matildal would say.'
"You make me quite vain, Eleanor, by attributing such
extraordinary originality to my remarks!' replied she, smiling.  "All that has been said raises my curiosity to see your
visitor, because it is interesting to be in company with remarkable people, and he certainly has a most distinguished
reputation for courage."
"''The M'Tartan's are anu exceedingly- old family," alded




OR THIE MAfRCH OF INTELLECT.         195
Mlr. Grant.  The whole clan was massacred several times
during the ancient wars, and they got a peerage from Prince
Charles."
"You will observe, Eleanor," added Sir Richard, "that he
brings a foreign friend with him, which is a favor I could
have excused, for you have unfortunately always been only
too partial to that sort of cattle."
" Does he indeed!" exclaimed the young heiress, eagerly
referring to her letter.  That is really gilding the pill.
A Russian, too!-Count Constantine Ecatrinoslav! I have
seen that name often in the Morning Post! This: is too
good news. to be true! Can anybody tell me what he is
like?"
"Probably," replied Sir Richard, provoked at her empressement, "a little, dark, squinting man, covered with
snuff."
"Above all things, preserve me from a squint!" cried Lady
Susan Danvers, affectedly.  "It makes one quite nervous
when any person in company has that deformity."
"Do I hear yozu objecting to a squint, Lady Susan ".
asked Mr. Grant, looking earnestly in her face, with wellfeigned astonishment.  "I certainly could not have expected
that /"
"' What can you mean, Mr. Grant! You don't intend to
insinuate that I have one?;'' Were you never sensible of it before?  What a heedless
mortal I am!-how could I commit such a blunder! But,
Lady Susan, many people are thought to look rather the
better of a slight cast, and, for my part, I admire it excessively. With you it merely seems as if one eye was. attracted
by excessive brilliancy in the other!"
"Mr. Grant! you talk the most insufferable nonsense!
My dog Tiny squints as much as I do'"
" How very unfortunate that the subject came under discussion at all!  You know, Lady Susan, it is considered
lucky for a man to squint, but in the case of a lady-why!
-No one can become sensible of any obliquity in their own:
vision, because, when you look in the glass, each eye is directed straight to its own image, but when you'turn away.
Lady Susan-  I appeal to Miss Fitz-Patrick!"
"Oh! don't ask me! I hate to tell disagreeable truths i"
interrupted Eleanor, enjoying, beyond measure, her friend's
indignant surprise.  "But candidly, now, Lady Susan, did
you never observe two gentlemen start up simultaneously,




1 )896            %c~OP)E~MODERN" SOCIETY,
when you asked one of them to ring the bell? I have been
puzzled once or twice myself to ascertain whether you were
speaking to Miss Marabout or me."
"Of course!' said Mr. Grant, leaving the breakfast-table,
and singing, as he went away," There's a look that is rather uncommon,
In the flash of that very bright eye."
"Fletcher! do these words remind you," asked Sir Richard,
"of a ridiculous circumstance which occurred to us when we
met at dinner last Thursday-"
"Wednesday, you mean," interrupted Sir Colin; "or, I
believe, on reflection, it was Friday, or Saturday!-yes! it
must have been Friday, for I recollect a trifling event
which   -"
"Well," continued Sir Richard, impatiently; "let it be
Friday, or Saturday-no matter which,-we were all sitting
at the Duke of Cairngorum's —--
" Excuse me! —It was the day I went to Clanpibroch
Castle," interposed Sir Colin, hastily. " You know the Duke
arrived that morning for the funeral of poor Lady Anne
M'Intosh    "
" At Clanpibroch Castle, then, and a gentleman happened
to say —— "
"I beg your pardon! it was a lady; —she wore a gold turban, and    "
"Ah!-man, woman, or child-one of them observed to
Sir Colin —"No! no!-I first said to her-  "
"Well! let it be so!' Pray, Madam-'"
"But," interrupted Sir Colin, emphatically, " did you explain that I sat next to her?"
" You matter-of-fact idiot!" muttered Sir Richard, between his teeth.  "Pray, Fletcher, tell the story yourself,
since it appears that I am incompetent."
This was precisely what Sir Colin had been aiming at, and
he recommenced it, telling every extraneous particular of the
anecdote that could be edged in, and prolonging his narrative till breakfast was ended, and most of the company had
strolled away; but Miss Howard complaisantly sat out the
whole of'Sir Colin's tediousness, while, in the meantime,
Mr. Grant affected to fall asleep, and nodded in his chair,
having previously whispered a request, to be called when it
was over.




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            1 0'
Matilda proceeded, as always had been her custom at this
hour, to the music-room, which she was then sure of finding
empty, and played several of her favorite songs.  She excelled, without a thought of exhibiting, and had, with the
most exquisite taste, a mellow, flexible voice, which was a
perfect tenor, and the varied tones of which, whether in music or conversation, expressed the deepest sensibility. Matilda had begun the touching air of "' Bendemere Stream,"
and while her thoughts reverted to Ashgrove, her notes
swelled into richer harmony, and then died away, like the
softest vibrations of a guitar. Before the prelude was finished, she had heard some one enter, but supposing it to be
a servant come to replenish the fire, she did not look round,
until, to her surprise, some low, and scarcely audible notes
of accompaniment were unexpectedly thrown in, and she
perceived Sir Alfred standing near, and apparently listening
with entranced attention.  Matilda's ready tact prevented
her from exhibiting any of the astonishment she felt, but,
with a heightened color, and some trepidation, she continued
the air, while Sir Alfred gradually let out his voice more
fully, and displayed much judgment, taste, and science, united
to a manly, harmonious voice, of which the articulation was
as distinct as if he had been speaking. Scarcely was the
song concluded, and before Matilda had, with modest embarrassment, expressed all her pleasure at receiving such unexpected assistance, when the door flew open, and Eleanor,
followed by a detachment of friends, burst into the room,
full of mirth and animation.
" We heard music, but could not imagine who it was!"
she exclaimed.  "Sir Alfred! no one ever hinted that you
were an amateur, or I should have teased you forever till
we got a song!"
"That is the very reason you never heard it," said he,
turning away.  "I know not a note of music, and sing
merely by ear, or by accident.  It is the merest whim in the
world when I attempt anything of the kind!"
"How very odd that nobody ever minds Matilda! " cried
Eleanor. "' To be sure, she is no critic, and I shall not be a
very severe one. Pray, Sir Alfred, do indulge us with a
cadence or two!-anything that strikes you as being suitable!"
Sir Alfred shook his head, and stolled out of the room,
singing a verse of the " Charming woman," and Miss FitzPatrick, ever ready to fancy a compliment implied, was per



19s8               MODERN SOCIETY,
fectly satisfied that the title of the song alone applied to
herself; and taking instant possession of the piano, she began to play a brilliant new piece by Czerny, which had
recently come from London.
"That is very nice music!" said Miss Murray, complaisantly.  My favorite piece is'The Battle of Prague.' Can
you play it, Miss Fitz-Patrick?
A smile dimpled in the cheek of Matilda, and a contemptuous frown lowered on the brow of Eleanor at this instance
of antediluvian taste, while Miss Murray, perceiving she had
made a blunder, turned with an anxious whisper to ask Mr.
Grant if he could explain why Eleanor seemed so irritated.
" I can't conceive! By the way," added he, seeing Miss
Murray still looked perplexed and uneasy, "was not Sir
Colin Fletcher wounded at the battle of Prague, or he
ran away, I forget which? but you know, all things considered, it would be awkward to perform that piece before
him. You are very sly and satirical, Miss Murray," added
he, with an admonitory shake of the head.
"I am!" exclaimed she, with consternation and surprise.
" You cannot surely be serious?"
"Now. Miss Murray, I shall prove it at once. Do you not
always pretend to mistake my friend Foley's name, and call
him, without the smallest compunction,; Major Folly? and
did I not yesterday see you hastily rise, and offer Lady Susan
the arm-chair, to show, of course, that you consider her a
little advancing in years, and she angrily sat down on a music-stool, by way of being juvenile? Oh, Miss Murray!
Miss Murray! I am quite afraid of you myself, seeing nobody is spared!"
The gentlemen proceeded soon afterwards, as usual, to
lounge away an hour at the stables in discussing, for the fortieth time, the comparative merits of their hunters, when
Lord Alderby seized an opportunity to drop a few paces behind the rest with Mr. Grant, to whom he made some accidental remarks, and immediately afterwards observed, with
a look of penetrating curiosity at his companion, though
affecting to be solely occupied with lighting his cigar,"My good fellow! I mean to back you against the field
yet for winning the heiress 1'
" Alderby!" replied Mr. Grant, carelessly, "how dare you
presume to mention Miss Fitz-Patrick's name with such a
mouthful of smoke! It is a most unlover-like piece of disrespect, and would be resented accordingly if she knew it Il




ORl THE MARCH OF- INTELLECT.          199
I observe you never think, nor speak of her but as'the
heiress;' yet even a comparative stranger, as you are, night
see that her richest gifts are not in her estates.  I estimate
her simply as Eleanor Fitz-Patrick, whom from her earliest
childhood I have known —whom I still admire- and whom
ONCE I loved."
" Once!-you mean once for all, then, I suppose?" answered Lord Alderby, laughing, while he closely watched
Ir. Grant's countenance.  "Can I forget how you raved
long ago about dark hair and hazel eyes, and an undying attachment! We were all wearied of Eleanor Fitz-Patrick's
name before she came out.  Every picture you saw abroad
was like her-no beauty that I pointed out could be compared to her. You carved her name upon trees and tombstones-called a dog after her —and sung nothing but' Nora
Criena' forever, so that my very ears used to ring with it.
That was all absurd enough at the time, but is likely to turn
out well now, since it gives you the start of us."
" Alderby, you mistake ine!" replied Mr. Grant, with unusual seriousness.' The revival of these stories only serves
to show more strongly what a contrast there is between past
and present feelings-how great, no one but myself can ever
know; but that is past.  You, and others whom I could
name, are brought to the feet of Eleanor Fitz-Patrick by the
very circumstance which places a gulf between us, and I
shall never attempt to pass it."
" That sounds amazingly fine-quite chivalrous!" answered Lord Alderby, incredulously.  " But, Grant, we all
know what human nature is.  Your estates lie contiguous
-they ought to be united; your stud requires to be enlarged-"
"A.lderby! whenever you judge of me by yourself you
cannot fail to be mistaken," said Mr. Grant, resuming his
wonted tone of careless vivacity.  "I am jealous of my independence, and shall never marry any woman whose fortune is superior to my own.  It would put me frantic to
hear any wife of mine talking in the way heiresses do, about' my' carriage,'m y' house, and'- my' establishment.  I could
not stand that —no, not even from Miss Fitz-Patrick! Seriously, however, there are some things changed in her already, which will mlake me envy less than I should have
once done the man who gains her.  I wish to set this subject quite at rest between us now, and therefore let me s'ay




200                 MODERN SOCIETY,.
that such an attachment as mine was requires to be preselwed
by entire approbation."
"Then, my dear fellow, if you are become so fastidious,
why not retire from the field, leaving it open to us  
never could understand such Platonic friendship, which
never exists upon both sides, you may depend upon it! Why
are you carrying on such a vehement flirtation at this very
hour with Miss Fitz-Patrick, that not another soul in the
house can speak to her?  Am I expected to believe that it
is not on your own account?"
" Most potent, grave, and ltEVERlEND SENIOR! you may
believe this, that, if there be truth in man, neither Miss
Fitz-Patrick nor I entertain'any intentions,' as the usual
phrase is.  We have always enjoyed a little lively persi.age
together, but there is no deeper sentiment on either side
now."
" I am not so sure of that,"7 muttered Lord Alderby, in an
undertone.
" When any one appears, whom I think deserving of Miss
Fitz-Patrick, you shall then see me retire, and act the part
of a brother to her," continued Mr. Grant, in a tone of feeling and sincerity.  "I know myself to be capable of it, and I
shall.  Eleanor Fitz-Patrick's happiness can never be indifferent to me, and though I seek not to be intrusted with
the care of it now, I fervently desire to see it committed to
one who deserves her.  Excuse me, Alderby, but your motives are not satisfactory, if there were not other objections.
Douglas might merit her, and I should gladly have resigned
Miss Fitz-Patrick to the man whom, above all others on
earth, I respect and like; but he is evidently occupied with
a different object.  In short, till some one starts up, who can
love Miss Fitz-Patrick as I did, and who possesses the rank
and fortune which I want, you may expect to see me act as
her guardian."
"A. very competent one truly!" said Lord Alderby, evidently piqued; " quite a dog in the manger.  I had no idea
you were bitten with sentimentality!"
" I have a tinge of what you would call romance in my disposition naturally, though every endeavor has been used of
late to extinguish it, and, let me hope, with some success."
C "Douglas!" said Lord Alderby, turning to Sir Alfred,
who was lounging behind, "we were wondering that you are
not more diligent in canvassing for the good graces of the
heiress."




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.           201
"I have more than enough of canvassing on my hands
already, and one election will satisfy me. Some people might
like to be deafened with wit, and stunned with accomplishments; but a fireside upon my plan would not suit so very
brilliant a young lady as Miss Fitz-Patrick."
" She is the grand prize in the lottery of life," persisted
Lord Alderby, "and unlike most girls of fortune, she is
neither red-haired nor deformed, but curiously beautiful!"
"So she may be, but I never admire professed beauties,
with that sort of' look-at-2e' air," replied Sir Alfred, taking
the arm of Mr. Grant, and walking away.  "c Life is not a
mere party of pleasure, or it might signify little whom we
passed it with; but you know my opinions, Grant, already,
and that they govern my actions in every event of life. How
much more shall they do so while forming that solemn engagement in which it may almost be said, that the happiness
of both worlds is at stake 1"
9*




CHAPTER XIV.
Oh, I would walk
A weary journey-to the farthest verge
Of the big world, to see that good man's form,
Who, in the blaze of wisdom and of art,
Preserves a lowly mind, and to his God,
Feeling the sense of his own littleness,
Is as a child in meek simplicity.
KIRKE WHITE.
MATILDA having understood that the unfortunate Nanny
was at once removed from Barnard Castle, and carried without warning or preparation into the presence of her aged
mother, felt anxiously desirous to ascertain how the good old
woman had borne so sudden a shock, and she determined to
lose no time in making her inquiries at Gowanbank, with a
hope of ascertaining some way in which the sorrows of that
once cheerful cottage could be mitigated. Having stated
the case fully to Dr. and Miss Murray, they instantly proposed, as she expected and wished, to accompany her there,
without delay, expressing an anxious'hope that it might be
possible to give assistance as well as comfort to both mother
and daughter, in a case of difficulty and distress which so
greatly needed both.
Nothing could be a nearer approach to perfect happiness
than the feelings of Matilda, as she proceeded along the
beautiful green path which led towards her destination.
The glowing benevolence of her own mind, which expanded
with every emotion of charity and kindness, the overflowing
good-humor of Miss Murray, and the pleasing tone of intellectual elevation with which Dr. Murray conversed upon
every subject which was most interesting, all combined with
the bright sunshine and the varying landscape, to give her a
feeling of unqualified delight; while present gratification led
her to contrast it all with the artificial manners, the exaggerated expressions, the petty treachery, and the carelessness
of each other's real thoughts and feelings which pervaded
the party she had recently left. It was impossible to associate an hour with Dr. Murray and not feel the head- and




OR THE MARCH Oa  X1TILECLT,           20
heart improved by his deep knowledge of human nature and
of divine things. The more exalted might be the subject of
contemplation, the more did his mind rise to explore it, for
difficulties were to him like the breeze against the breast of
the eagle, which only makes it soar the higher. Few subjects
within the compass of human investigation remained in
doubt or in darkness when he had thoroughly discussed them.
His case was always clearly stated, and he brought to bear
upon it, with readiness and precision, the whole mass of his
extensive reading, while many things of which Matilda had
desired an explanation, were given with such perfect clearness, and in such a portable compass, that they could never
be afterwards forgotten or confused. Dr. Murray's knowledge seemed only estimated by himself according as it could
aid him to make wise the simple.  In illustrating the a:nalogies of nature and of grace, in showing how we may discover the same almighty power and wisdom in the least and
in the greatest of God's creatures, and in proving how his
works and his word reflect upon each other a mutual light,
Dr. Murray spoke with the mild authority of profound intellect, without pedantry, without affectation, without a thought
but of recalling to his own heart, and impressing on his companions, all that might direct their affections towards the
omnipotent and bountiful Creator.
" It seems strange," said Dr. Murray, in answer to a remark of his sister's, " that there really are persons who can
live amidst the great and marvellous works of God, without
asking themselves who created this stupendous theatre, and
for what purpose we are brought to act a part,in it.  I have
often pitied the situation of ancient heathen philosophers,
who vainly speculated throughout a long and laborious life
to discover whence they came and whither they were going.
No doubt seems ever to have remained on their minds that
our spirits are immortal, yet their wonder seems only to have
been raised in order to be baffled; and how awful must have
been the feeling of such meditative minds in watching the
final departure of a soul, and in asking themselves on what;
unknown scenes it was about to enter, whither they them-ii
selves must so speedily follow!"
": Yes," replied Matilda, P"I have sometimes been astoni
ished that such persons retained their senses.  Ordinary"
minds, to whom the every-day occurrences of lif are iti-b
oient, seem in little danger of insanity; but those who pos
s:ess deep feelings and meditative spirits, without teih guid




204                MODERN SOOIETY,
ance of revealed truth, must have often sustained great
agitation, and it is easy to trace in the writings of heathen
sages, what a state of torturing perplexity they lived in, respecting the enigma of their own existence."'" But," added Dr. Murray, " the knowledge which those
learned philosophers were so darkly groping after, is revealed
to us in a blaze of light, and men will scarcely attend to it.
All we have to learn of our eternal relation to the great
Creator, is so plainly laid down for us now, that he who runs
may read,-but how few will pause one moment to reflect
upon it! His majesty and power were always inscribed in the
canopy of heaven, and in the glorious scenes around our
path; but that which connects man with his Maker, by the
ties of everlasting confidence and love, can only be found in
Holy Scripture. Yet, nature and revelation are studied, as
anatomists examine the body, without attending to the living
Spirit which alone gives life and energy to all, and by the
eye of faith only can we see what is precious and important
in both. The Bible was writen not for giants in logic, but
for babes in Christ, and the earth was created not merely as
a curious problem for philosophers to investigate, but as a
platform on which Christians are to rehearse the virtues
which shall be perfected for them in a better and holier
world."
" It seems melancholy indeed," observed Matilda, " that
those who penetrate deepest into the wonders of na(:Lre, and
into the mysteries of doctrine, are often so occupied with in
tellectual discovery, that they forget in all humility to adore
the omnipotent Creator himself, and to recognize Him in the
multitude of His works."
6' Yet, if man never had been, and never was to become
otherwise than he is, what a fleeting, insignificant, and painful dream would this life, at its best, be considered by those
who reflected at all! But none who study the Christian
revelation and their own nature, can fail to be convinced that
man must have been originally created great in intellect and
virtue, proportioned in dignity to the glorious universe by
which he is encompassed; that we are now but a desolated
ruin of what once was; and that, after a transient season of
trial, degradation, and sorrow, we shall again be raised to
that rank after which our fallen nature so ardently aspires.
If it were otherwise,-if our hearts were vainly to pant after
knowledge, happiness, and virtue, without a hope of their
ever being perfected in a better s4,'" and if all the affections,




OR THE MARCH OF INrELLECT.            205
emotions, and hopes, which support us through the sorrows
of life, were in a few short years to be annihilated-then
indeed we might envy, as Colonel Gardiner did, the existence
of his dog,' because it could neither reflect nor feel.'"
" I am sure many unbelievers must think the same," said
Miss Murray; "and I remember many years ago being impressed with this conviction, when we heard of the Tom
Paine Club, and were told of that remarkable circumstance,
which has been so frequently since mentioned, respecting it,
that both the president and secretary shot themselves."
" It is indeed a wonderful proof of our depraved nature,
that men can be found who would desire to level themselves
with the brutes that perish, and to argue themselves out of
their own immortality; but it is' the zwish that is father to
the thought;' they prefer darkness to light, for very obvious
reasons, and he who wishes to doubt may soon disbelieve
anything. I read a pamphlet lately, very plausibly argued, to prove that Bonaparte never existed, and all the
usual objections were stated, which infidels bring against the
evidence of revelation."
" Some persons are apt," observed Matilda, " to make even
the grandeur of creation an excuse for disbelieving the
greatest work of all-the redemption of man.  It seems so
wonderful that Ile who made such a world of splendor
should sacrifice His only Son for us, that they rashly pronounce it incredible, and therefore the magnitude of the
benefit is an excuse for rejecting it altogether!"
"Yet observe what evidence we see all around of infinite
care for our happiness!-the very flowers that are strewed
on every bank, the joyous carol of the birds in Spring, the
loveliness of landscape scenery, and every 7unforbidden joy of
man's existence, speak of immeasurable love in the Almighty
towards His creatures. We may confidently believe, then,
that the everlasting felicity of millions is of such importance
in His eye, that He mercifully planned for us what the heart
of man could never have conceived. It is a mystery to be
contemplated with wonder, love, and praise;-on the right
belief of which our eternal hope depends, which no man
can understand without the teaching of a divine Spirit,and which we shall only comprehend in all its glory hereafter. There are depths in our holy religion which men
have lost their souls by denying, and which they may lose
their senses by endeavoring fully to understand!"
" Yes!" said Miss Murray'! " and such religion as we shall




206                MODERN SOCITYps
meet with to-day in old Janet's cottage, is often more illfl
ential on the heart and feelings than that of many a learned
divine."
"True!I" replied he, " there are philosophers who could
speak off-hand without effort a perfect Bridgewater Treatise
on the evidences of Almighty power in the structure of the
universe,-and there are clergymen who can sprinkle over
every page of Scripture new definitions and amended transla.
tions from the original;-but if I were to choose between
the head or the heart,-though both may certainly be enlightened: I would prefer the simple belief of a day-laborer,
who sees in the stars above his head nothing more glorious
than in the lamps along the street, to that of the profoundest
philosopher-the simple belief of a cottager, who knows only,
Christ, and him crucified, to the most intimate acquaintance
with the Syriac, Greek, and Hebrew text."
" It was once remarked," said Matilda, " that the idea of a
school-boy, who has learned to know that the earth is round,
must be very inferior in sublimity to that of a wandering
Arab, who believes in an unlimited world, and an unmeasurable sea. Yet I think, Dr. Murray, you must have many
pleasing emotions in your own mind, to prove how much
more elevated is the devotion of a cultivated intellect, amidst
the wonders of creation and redemption, than the simple admiration and gratitude of an uninstructed heart. The poet
says,'an undevout astronomer is mad;' and you know better
than I can imagine, how the thoughts are expanded by a
knowledge' of that stupendous creation, where'worlds on
worlds compose one universe.'
" It is only where the head acts instead of the heart, and
where men observe the heavens without preparing to go
there, that I would deprecate learning; for a study of truth
in every department of science or knowledge will but serve
to exhibit its consistency and connection with the fountain
of all truth; and- the higher the intellect of man is raised,
the more glorious will be his conceptions of Almighty power,
till, like Job, he learns to say,' The more I consider, the
more I fear God.'"
Dr. Murray's eye kindled with animation, and he looked
above and around him with an expression so full of devotion and reverence, that it almost seemed as if he saw the
visible presence of Him who shall be know in His works,
and whose power may be traced in the light that shines on
our path, and in the very air that we breathe.  "Yes!" added




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            207t
h6, " there are hours of holy meditation, which appear like
a foretaste of the joy that shall hereafter be revealed;-but
there are seasons, too, of sorrow and humiliation, to remind us
that the tempest-tossed vessel is yet at sea, and the haven
only in sight."
"I have often thought," said Matilda, "how very different
must be the anticipation of heaven formed by various individuals, according to their habits and capacities of thinking.
We each hope at some time to be admitted there, and few
have passed through many years without attempting in some
degree to conceive that state to which all are hastening.
Bishop Hall remarks, that an impenitent sinner would feel
as much out of his element in heaven as a toad in a king's
paiace; yet every one expects to go there, and probably
most minds form an idea of what might be anticipated in
that state of perfect happiness. A laborer, worn out with
the toils of his daily task, will meditate most on the promise
of eternal rest, where there shall be no more labor, nor sorrow; while the man of science could scarcely imagine any
gratification apart from mental exertion, and will joyfully
anticipate the time when' increase of knowledge' shall no
longer be'increase of sorrow'; for he shall live with Him
in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom. and whose
perfections will flow on before his adoring contemplation,
like a ceaseless stream.  And those who are now delighting
in the pleasures of benevolence, or in the intercourse of
friendship, must be desirous to believe that in a state of unclouded joy, such blessed feelings of the heart will not be
absent."'
" I think we are warranted in Scripture to conceive as
vividly the happiness of heaven as the terrors of hell, and to
exercise our minds in seeking a knowledge of what is revealed
on that subject, though not positively to conclude that we
are infallibly right."
" Many Christians feel satisfied," replied Matilda, " with
that important text which declares, that' eye hath not seen,
nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man
the things which God hath prepared for them that love
Him.'
"Yet," said  Dr. Murray, "we must not forget the
verse which comes next:'  But God Jlatlh revealed them 0o us,
by His Spirit.' The passage which follows enjoins Christians to' know the things that are freely given to them of
Gd;' and I am convinced it engenders a feeling of indiffter




208                MODERN SOCIETY,
ence not to realize in some degree the conception of that lifo
which we shall one day enjoy, and which we now desire.
In attempting to give precision to our thoughts on this
solemn subject, let us pray for understanding to know
as much as is revealed, while we are preserved from prying into more, for'secret things belong unto the Lord'; but
at the same time'He has brought life and immortality to
light.'"
" It appears," observed Matilda, "as if the Bible presented a map of heaven, on which are drawn in distinct outlines what shall be enjoyed hereafter; and Christians may
confidently anticipate, that on entering the New Jerusalem,
we shall be ready to say, as the Queen of Sheba did when
she heard the wisdom of Solomon,' The half was not told
me.'"
" If a full revelation of Heaven in all its glory were made,
how could any one endure a present life?" said Dr. Murray.
" We should feel like a man who fixed his eyes on the blazing sun, and then attempted to look at the scenery around.
The whole would appear dim and distorted.  But though it
be a presumptuous and an impossible attempt to realize a/,
that is promised, and often difficult in Scripture to distinguish what is allegorical from what is real, yet many things
are told of that' place' which Christ has gone to prepare."
"I often think," said Matilda, "that much of the indifference which prevails in this world about a future state may
be traced to the vagueness of our conceptions respecting its
enjoyments, for few people fully consider how much is implied in the promises of revelation, with which our natures,
even as they are now constituted, can have sympathy and
connection. I remember, as a child, when any of my juvenile indulgences particularly delighted me, I frequently
asked the nursery-maid if there would be pleasures similar
to these in Heaven; but her invariable answer was, of course,
in the negative; yet she might have added much to fill my
mind with joyful anticipation, instead of the blank disappointment which her unqualified'no' occasioned me. I
think Christians often treat men of the world in a similar
way. They tell. what is really true, that no sinful pleasures
shall be there, but they forget to add those blessed hopes for
hereafter which our Bibles hold out to all whom the Spirit
shall fit and prepare."
"True," replied Dr. Murray.': It is impossible to speak
or to think of them too much, for they are described contin



OR THE MARCH OF IN'.ILLEui.           209
aally as motives to our love and obedience, which we ought
to see and to appreciate, in order that we may pursue them
diligently. The grateful and adoring contemplation of perfeet holiness, and of infinite glory, will be the first and chief
theme of every Christian's delight, when seeking to join in
that eternal anthem of praise which St. John, in his mortal
state, could not learn, though he heard it, and which St.
Paul, when caught up into the third heaven, declared that
it was not possible for man to utter.  In a form such as our
own, we shall then behold the merciful Author of our Redemption, and feel, in His presence, that the gratitude and
love which are now but faint and occasional, can be continually exercised without effort, and without fear of diminution.
Our praise, too, will be unmingled with sorrow, and uninjured by any remaining consciousness of sin, to mar that
confidence and joy with which we shall stand before a benignant Saviour. The reunion of sisters, friends, and brethren,
when we are'gathered to our fathers,' will be a meeting of
unalloyed delight; for then every eye will be kindled with
the same feelings of adoration, and every look will be one of
sympathy and love. We read that St. Paul expected his
converts to be' a crown of joy and of rejoicing' in the presence of their Saviour, which gives a blessed confidence that
the minister and his people shall not then forget their mutual ties.  As St. Peter knew the glorified spirits of Moses
and Elias, we may hope at once to distinguish the patriarchs
and saints whose memory we reverence now; and as St.
Paul forbade Christians to grieve like those who have no hope,
who can doubt that it was because our lost friends were to
be restored to us?  David also comforted himself for the
departure of his child by the prospect of going to him, and
Dives is represented as recognizing Abraham. We read,
too, that the rich man in Hell wished to save his brethren
from so wretched a fate, and if there be brotherly love even
there, what must it be amidst the society of just men made
perfect; for who can question that the graces and virtues
which we are conmmanded to exercise now, will hereafter find
an abundant field for exercise?  Those who have been faithful over few things shall be rulers over many things, which
is a promise that implies active enmployment when men become, as we are told they shall,' kings and priests unto God.?
The bodies which we now wear shall then be restored to us,
and in the new heavens and the new earth which are to be
)ur blessed abode, how often will men look back, with dn.g




210                 MODERN SOC'ITYr,
tinct recollection, on their past existence, and acknowledge,
with adoring admiration and gratitude, the infinite wisdom
which caused every event of life to work together for their
good, and which led them, blind, and faint, and wilful, as
we all are, safe through the dangers and temptations of a
thorny path, to the green pastures and the still waters of
that better country, where the sun always shines, and where
the joy is without: measure and without end 1i'
Dr. Murray walked on fdr some time in silence, and Matilda did not interrupt him.  There are thoughts too solemn
for utterance, and there are emotions too profound for the
ear of another.  It became evident that his mind was delivered up to the boundless contemplation of futurity, and that
his heart bore testimony to the language of his lips when he
spoke of its incomparable importance, and of the grateful delight with which a Christian can forget every intermediate
care of an earthly existence, and satisfy himself with the confident hope of a sinless and tearless eternity.  When they
approached within sight of Gowanbank, however, he seemed
at once to call his mind back fromn the pleasures of meditation to the business and duty of the present hour.
"Mine has been a life of unusual peace," said he; " with
none of those nearer ties which pr oduce the keenest emotions
of joy and of sorrow.  Those few real afflictions which have
fallen to my lot are so tempered by consolation that they
scarcely deserve the name; but I have seen enough, in my
sympathy for others, and in such worldly grief as Providence,
in His wisdom, has ordained for myself, to prove that it is,
indeed, better to visit the house of mourning than the house
of feasting. and I trust that in administering comfort here
we shall still find cause to say so."
Matilda could not but think how differently Dr. Murray's
society would be appreciated in the house which they were
now about to enter, from what she had seen it previously at
Barnard Castle; and as she considered how he had been forgotten and overlooked amidst the gay revelry of those whom
they had recently left, while she knew how his presence was
hailed as the harbinger of consolation to many a desolated
heart, she almost thought that such estimation as the servant of God received in these contrasted scenes of prosperity
and adversity, might fairly illustrate the comparative importance in which they teach men to hold that Great Master
whose cause Dr. Murray felt continually desirous to promote.
Old Janet met Matilda at the door, and made a faint e'n




OR THE MARCHI OF INTELLECT.          211
deavor to assume her usual smile of hospitable welcome, but
the words she would have spoken died on her lips; and
turning hastily away, with a faltering step she preceded
them into the cottage, where Martha. sat, with her sister's
hand in her own, and her eyes despondingly bent on the
ground.
If ever there lived a heart which vibrated to every tone
of human suffering, it was that of Dr. Murray, who only
showed he had inwardly felt what grief is, by the deep experience with which he could talk to others of its consolations. Yet, accustomed as he had long been to scenes and
sights of wo, he paused, in silent pity and astonishment,
when they entered and beheld the desolating effects of mental agony. There is a fable of Niobe having been turned
into stone by.extreme anguish, which seems true to nature,
whenever we behold the consequences of sudden calamity.
Tears characterize a gentle feeling, but the blanched cheek,
the sunk eye, and the parched lip of Nanny, mournfully
testified that grief, like an ice-bolt, had entered into her
heart, and paralyzed her senses.  She crouched on a low
seat, motionless as death, her hair dishevelled over her face,
and her eye fixed on vacancy, without the slightest evidence
of observing what passed around. It appeared, indeed, that
1" her beauty had consumed away," and as Matilda looked at
her, with speechless emotion, it seemed as if years must
have passed since she had beheld that haggard countenance
in all the bloom of youth.
After many vain efforts to attract her notice, Nanny at
length looked up, with a strange ghastly smile, at Matilda,
until, after some moments, a dawn of recollection seemed
struggling into her mind, and beckoning her forward, she
whispered in a low bewildered tone, pointing to old Janet" Speak to her! —Tell her it was untrue!-We'll not let
Martha know that I cared about him!-Who put all those
things in the flower-stand?  Oh! don't say it was me!"
"Nanny!" said Dr. Murray, in a tone of mild authority,
which attracted her instant attention, "' there is a day coming
when the secrets of all hearts shall be laid open.  Those
who are unfairly accused will then be acquitted, and any
one who has told a falsehood against his neighbor shall be
known and punished.  I believe, when that hour comes, that
your mother, your sister, and all of us who believe you to be
innocent, will then rejoice in hearing the real truth.  But
there are many unfounded stories, and many evil reports in




212                MODERN SOCIETY,
this world, and we must not break our hearts if they rise up
against ourselves. You should be comforted when unjustly
accused, by feeling in your own heart that it actually is untrue, and that you were never really tempted to do what is
said. We commit sins every day, which are known only to
God, and not to man-how much better it is if the Almighty
sees we are not guilty, when man suspects that we are.
Every sorrow in life is light and easy to endure in comnparison of remorse: but a wounded spirit who can bear?  We
must value our good name and character in the world more
than any mere earthly blessing; but still even that may be
taken from us by the wisdom of Him who knows what is
good for every one. Let us then be ready to suffer, though
it were worse than death itself, not considering the loss as
an accident, nor as the fruit of malice, but as the merciful
correction of a Father, who knows what is best. It would
be better, certainly, to weep for a short season and live forever, than to rejoice in that mirth which is as the crackling
of thorns under a pot, and ends in quick destruction. By
the loss of friends, and the treachery of enemies, or in any
way that may be surest, oh! who would not desire, on whatever terms, to be fitted for that country where no enemy ever
entered, and from whence no friend shall ever go away!"
Dr. Murray continued his address, from time to time, in
the soothing accents of kindness and pity, while Nanny
seemed to listen; but it was difficult to say how far her
mind followed his meaning, for she appeared stunned and
stupefied, without the power to express emotion, or to reflect
on anything but the weight of her own sorrow.  Old Janet
watched her countenance with intense anxiety, till at length
she shook her head despondingly, and turned away, while
tears started into Martha's eyes; but when Dr. Murray at
length proposed that they should unite in prayer, Nanny
looked around with sudden recollection, and then slowly,
with an air of deep solemnity and devotion, sunk upon the
ground, and buried her face on her mother's knee, while she
clasped her hands together with convulsive energy.




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.'213
CHAPTER XV.
I'll introduce you: Gentlemen! my friend.
CRABBE.
"' ELEANOR!" cried Sir Richard, entering next day, when
the whole party were gathered merrily round a blazing fire;
and fixing a look of sly humor on his daughter, " I have
charming news for you!-My good friend and kinsman,
M'Tartan, has met with an accident on the road; and whether
it be a spring broken, or a fractured limb, is, I am aware, all
one to you, since it must inevitably postpone his arrival here.
But," added the Baronet, drawing a long breath, and trying
to assume some appearance of gravity, " he has very stupidly
forwarded this foreign Count of his, who may probably arrive in an hour.  It will be an unspeakable bore, because my
French is not in good repair now, and he speaks no English."
" Delightful!"  exclaimed Eleanor.  "You know, papa,
how I doat upon foreigners, so mnake him over entirely to my
care. It wanted but this to make me completely happy!how enchanting it will be to have him for a partner this
evening!"
" I have no objection, provided you don't take him as a
partner for life 1" replied her father, with a look of irrepressible glee, which seemed quite unaccountable to Matilda.
" These foreigners are all so handsome, and so insinuating,
that they invariably carry off our heiresses now; and if I had
foreseen that you were to become the laird here, your honor
should never have been allowed to learn one syllable of
French!"
"Oh! how barbarous, papa! I would rather relinquish
my mother tongue; and if the Count speaks only Italian,
that would be irresistible."
"I always feared this," continued Sir Richard, trying to
look very serious; "we Englishmen have no chance in a
drawing-rooll, when foreigners, with nine syllables to their
names, like Count Constantine Ecatrinoslav, arise and shine
in our hemisphere.  I must ring for Martin directly, to give




~14 M11d6RJ                  f-ODERN ROCIETu
him a lesson of pronunciation, that he may announce out
visitor properly.  It will take some hours' practice at least,
to make him  perfect; and Monsieur le Comte will arrive
immediately, for, as Shakspeare says,'By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes!'"
"What is he like?" asked Major Foley, turning towards
the mirror, and pulling up his neckeloth.  "You have seen
him, I suppose?"
"Why, no.  I never was in company with Count Constantine; but his description is set down here with a degree
of accuracy, that might have done for a passport.  Tall,
dark hair, florid complexion, grey eyes, and so forth."
" Has he mustachios?" exclaimed Mr. Grant, clasping his
hands, and assuming a look of agonizing suspense.
" Prodigious!" replied Sir Richard, laughing.
"Then we are all undone!;' continued Mr. Grant, giving
a glance of condolence to the other gentlemen, and sinking
back on the sofa, in an attitude of despair.
"I am the last man on earth to be at all illiberal," said
Lord Alderby, in a pompous tone; "but at the same time I
hate all foreigners, and consider them  most dangerous people in society."
" I wish the Count, had staid in Siberia, for it freezes my
very blood to think of him!" added Mr. Grant, laughing.
" Remember, Miss Fitz-Patrick, if he cuts me out of my seat
next to you at dinner to-day, I shall be seen wandering round
the table, with tears frozen in icicles from my eye-lashes, according to the fashion of his country."
" A very qzelting, sight indeed," replied Eleanor.
M' My hair would grow grey in a night with distress of
mind!" continued MIr. Grant.'Ah! that happens to every person now, once in their
lives!-we never hear of any one becoming grey in the regular
course of nature, but always some romantic history of its
coming on in a few hours."
" I dare say this Count that shall be nameless, because it
really fatigues me to pronounce his endless designation,
probably travels with a bear inside the carriage," added. Mr.
Grant; "'a monkey on the dicky; smokes cigars all along:
the road; and bring, a hamper of the best train-oil with him
to flavor M. Martigny's sauces."
"Eleanor has such a passion for everything! foreign,'" ohk




OR THE MARCH. OF INTELLECT.           2-15
served Sil -Richard, " that I doubt if she will even object to
that."
" Not at all!" persisted she eagerly. "' y penchant for
foreigners is incurable, they are all so agreeable.  It is the
only rule I know without a single exception."
"He will play the pianoforte for you on Sundays," continued Sir Richard, slyly watching the effect of all he said;
" and the Count performs charmingly on —on the Russian
horn. "
" There must surely be some mistake here 7" said Sir Alfred, who had been listening for some time past to the conversation with an air of perplexity and surprise.  "I once
met Count Constantine Ecatrinoslav abroad; and though he
had not the honor of being introduced to me, yet I have a
dim recollection-   "
" Very dim indeed, I dare say," cried Sir Richard, with a
degree of brusquerie and eagerness which astonished Matilda
not less than it evidently did Sir Alfred.  "He is amazingly
altered of late, I am told, and that reminds me that I wish
to consult you about the-the —the new kennel I am building, so let us waste no more time in foreign affairs.  By the
way, we have not discussed the state of your canvass this
morning yet," added Sir Richard, hastily beckoning Sir Alfred aside, who rather unwillingly followed. The two gentlemen continued in close conference for some time, while
Matilda observed that the former seemed to be explaining
something which infinitely diverted himself, while the handsome and expressive countenance of his companion indicated
a vain attempt at good-humored remnonstrance, which ended
in his giving a smile of unwilling acquiescence, and silently
resuming his place amidst the joyous party round the fire.
Eleanor's impatient curiosity to see her foreign visitor was
not destined to be of long duration, for Sir Richard entered
the drawing-room about an hour afterwards, rubbing his
hands with glee, and announcing that Count Constantine's
carriage had come in sight.  "It is extremely like the one
you arrived in lately, Sir Alfred,;' added he " but only much
handsomer.,'
"He copies me, I have no doubt," replied the baronet,
dryly.  "There are a number of people who do, which is very
inconvenient.  The moment I get a new equipage, or even a
new waistcoat, everybody starts one in imitation."
"Pray come to the window and look at him,"  continued
Sir RBihard, Oagerly.




-2h                 B~MODERNa  SOCIETY,
"You had better bring him to look at mie," answered Sir
Alfred, rising as he spoke, and strolling up to his laughing
host; who continued whispering and talking, until the door
flew open, and Count Ecatrinoslav was duly announced.
Sir Richard hastened forward with surprising cordiality,
and Eleanor thought it the strongest proof she had ever
witnessed of her father's unbounded hospitality, that, with all
his prejudice against foreigners, he welcomed their illustrious
visitor with a truly English shake of the hand, expressive of
the warmest cordiality. Not a word passed on either side,
but he instantly led the Count all round, introducing him
with great ceremony and respect, to each individual of the
assembled circle, while the newly-arrived stranger followed
up these presentations by performing a profusion of bows.
At every repetition of his namie, he struck his heels together
and clashed his spurs, while his hat was clasped to his heart
and then waved to the very ground.  Sir Alfred vouchsafed
to give only a very slight inclination of the head in reply,
but when Mr. Grant's turn came, he completely excelled
Count Constantine in the number and profoundness of his
salutations, till Matilda could scarcely refrain from laughing
outright, to observe how rapidly the two gentlemen flitted
from right to left, and from left to right, before each other.
Eleanor's eyes followed Count Constantine round the
room with an expression of delighted approbation, because
nothing could be more outrageously foreign than his whole
dress and appearance.  His face was let out through a
parenthesis of enormous whiskers, while mustachios and
patches were scattered over every part of his countenance
where they could be supposed possible. A greatcoat, completely lined with splendid sables and covered with frogs and
tassels, was what he wore, with boots that seemed to raise
him  on tiptoe, the heels seemed so elevated, and several
scraps of ribbon which were visible on his inner coat, appeared to indicate the existence of corresponding medals and
orders, when he chose to make a display.  After Eleanor
had concluded the ceremony of receiving him, with all her
natural grace, and more than her natural dignity, she turned
to Mr. Grant, whispering in an undertone, "The Count
looks quite like a hero!"
"Rather mock-heroic! He is the very model of what
would be admired among nursery-maids and boarding-school
misses. Those Russians always wear ribbons of more various colors than any tailor's pattern-book, but your visitor




O'1 THE MARdH OF INTELLECT.           217
must have distinguished himself in every battle that ever
was fought, and acquired all the medals and orders that
were ever invented.  Shall I pierce my last shilling to-day,
and hang it on a blue ribbon to my button-hole, in order to
keep him in countenance?"
Eleanor now resolved to lose no time in making an entire
monopoly of the interesting foreigner, and entered immediately upon a discussion of all the subjects which appeared
most suitable, speaking at random, in French, with such rapidity and fluency, that scarcely an interval was allowed
for the Count to give more than a bow and a shrug of reply.
Upon her favorite principle of adaptation, she chose every
topic in the most distant degree connected with Russia.
The Emperor Paul, St. Petersburg, Countess Dashkoff, bear's
grease, sledges, palaces of ice, Marshal Blacher, Elizabeth of
Siberia, the state of Poland, and a panorama of the burning
of Moscow, which she asked her guest if he had seen in
London.
Putting his hand suddenly to his forehead, the Count
turned away, and Matilda could not but think, for one moment, that the convulsive working of his features looked almost like laughter, till Sir Richard stepped hastily forward,
and whispered to his daughter in a tone of indignant remonstrance,'"My dear Eleanor, how can you be so cruelly
thoughtless?-ladies never have any reflection! The Count
lost on that occasion a splendid palace, plate, jewels, pictures, books —-"
" An old Russian-leather writing-case," added Mr. Grant.
in an undertone, "and several very valuable pair of Russia
ducks, which have never since been replaced."
"How exquisitely agreeable he is," exclaimed Eleanor,
affectedly, when Count Constantine soon after sent for his
foreign servant and left the room to see his baggage arranged.'I am not sensible that our friend has spoken above one
or two monosyllables," replied Sir Richard; "but that
shows, my dear girl, the power of prejudice."
" Not at all! I never saw a more romantic-looking mansuch an air distingue-such perfect self-possession-so muchgrace in his address —"
" I would rather not be asked my opinion of him," said
Mr. Grant.  " It may be prejudice, from the description we
had of the personage who introduced Count Ecatrinoslav
here; but there certainly appears something very A'Tartan10




O218  DERN SOCIJETY,
ish about him.  I know a thorough-bred foreigner by instinct, and this is evidently some valet de place, who has murdered his master, and stolen his letters of recommendation."'" How very malicious! when we all know that you are dying to be like him."'" The last man on earth that any one could wish to reaemble, except in his power of pleasing you."
" All envy and detraction! I must positively leave the
room, Mr. Grant, if you become so very censorious.  In fact,
the world is getting extremely ill-natured of late, and will
soon be unfit for me to live in."
"' And if you were to depart, I am sure it would be fit for
nobody else," added Lord Alderby.
"Eleanor, can you be serious in thinking so much of the
Count?" asked Sir Richard, stooping over a newspaper, so as
to hide his face.  " My old protege, Donald M'Tartan, used
to be fully better looking, were you only to see him with the
same eyes."
" If I became blind, there might then be no visible difference; but, papa, your favoritism of Captain M'Tartan was
an old grievance ages ago, and I am sorry to see it reviving."
"If my good cousin had been handsome and agreeable,
like this new importation from Petersburg, would you have
received him as graciously i?"
" Quite!  I have actually no preference for foreigners,
when our own people can learn to be equally agreeable," replied she in a tone of lively perssflage.  "Let me announce,
however, papa, to complete your horror, that this Count bids
fair to become a special favorite of mine."
"It is only to be hoped that the partiality is mutual," said
Sir Richard, dryly.
"Undoubtedly, as all Miss Fitz-Patrick's partialities must
be," observed Lord Alderby, with a sigh that might have
driven a man -of-war from its anchorage.
"Surely the' Count has lost his way," continued she,
anxiously.  " Mr. Armstrong's baggage had to be moved up
another flight of stairs.  I really am  sorry not to have a
better room at miy disposal, for, though it might do very well
for Captain M'Tartan, yet-;'
" Eleanor, you have exceeded my hopes," exclaimed Sir
Richard, slapping his hand on the table, and rising, with an
explosion of laughter, which he seemed totally unable to control, while the whole party looked on in silent amazement.
As soon as he, could command his voice, however, he added:




OR THE TIARCH OF INTELLECT,            219
I knew that it was impossible to expect a tolerable receptiol for my friend the Captain, so we planned together a
little agreeable coup de tlehitre, which has outdone my utmost
expectations. Count Ecatrinoslav was unexpectedly detained for several days by an invitation to WVindsor, but
mean time allow me to introduce my cousin, Count Constantine M'Tartan!  I did not intend to betray our secret
for a month, but this opportunity becomes irresistible."
Sir Richard hurried, in an ecstasy of delight, to the entrance-hall, and produced the ci-devant foreigner: who looked
precisely as he did before, but with a laugh in his eye, which
showed Eleanor at once how completely she had been imposed upon.
Matilda felt alarmed to anticipate what her cousin might
say or do, for anger flashed in her countenance, and she was
evidently irritated in the highest degree; but before the
sentence which rose to her lips could be uttered, she suddenly
caught the calmn observant eye of Sir Alfred fixed upon her,
and instantly became silent; while Miss tHowardcl, to fill up
the pause, observed, in a soothing tone" We have been all completely taken in, Eleanor.  Sir
Richard can claim little credit for imposing on me, but it
really must be allowed that the joke was excellently got up
when it deceived you."
" I know," began Sir Colin, " a very curious circumstance
of the kind which occurred to myself —-— "
"So do I!U" interrupted Eleanor, instantaneously recovering her temper, and giving way to a hearty fit of laughter.' Papa! for this once I forgive you, and shall, moreover,
generously add my congratulation on your success.  Captain
MI'Tartan! so you are as fond of masquerading as ever!
Now observe! when you have been translated into English,
I hereby retract all that was said after you entered this
house, either in favor of the Count, or in disparagement of
yourself.  At the samie time allow me to request that you
will remain at Barnard Castle till your spirits have recovered the loss of your palace at Moscow, and of all the plate,
pictures, jewels, and wtiting-cases.  How could I be such a
dupe; but that was not the case either, for I guessed it all
the time!"
When Matilda had dressed for dinner, and was about to
re-enter the drawing-room, she heard a new voice, and a
ringing laugh of such uproarious vulgarity, that it puzzled
her for a moment to conjecture who could perpetrate sounds




220                MODERN SOCIETY,
so out of keeping with the harmonious tone of the party in
general; but immediately afterwards she perceived Captain
M'Tartan, who had hitherto appeared only in dumbshow,
standing upon the hearth-rug, in a perfect blaze of spirits,
and addressing every one familially, whether he knew them
or not.
" You've been in India, I suppose, Sir Colinn?  One
may guess it by a little tinge of the pagoda in your complexion; but six weeks at Cheltenham is infallible for the
liver."
Sir Colin's feeble attempts to deny this imaginary trip
to the East, and the consequent aspersion on his liver,
were drowned in the stentorian voice of his new acquaintance.
" I've seen officers come home that you might have coined
their faces into gold; and it was quite a benevolent pleasure
to watch every day at the Wells, how they gradually cleared
up. Fine Indian-looking city Cheltenham is; by the way,
you would suppose every Nabob had brought his own bungalow from Calcutta and set it up there with verandahs and
balconies complete-the walls, too, such a delicate color, they
seem to be built of cream-cheese.  A propos, Fitz-Patrick,
the yellow-fever broke out on board of us at Jamaica, and
nearly sent me off to a foreign station-officers were dropping
like nine-pins.  Since then, we never saw a sight of landforgot my geography entirely, but I've at last remembered
my way here. You must teach me, Eleanor, to know a cow
from a camel, and a man from a monkey."
"I see very little difference myself sometimes! but among
all other oblivions, I perceive, Captain M'Tartan has not yet
taken the trouble to forget my Christian name."
" Ah! for that matter, I know your name and date pretty
correctly, Eleanor!-we'll not say how much twice nine
makes, for I can keep a secret as well as another.  Ladies
never like their ages to be published, Lady Susan Danvers,
so I ask no questions; that we may hear no untruths. Did
I ever see any girl rise above twenty! and old ladies stick
at nine-and-forty for ten or a dozen years always! For my
part, as the Irish lady said,' I'm just the age of other people.'
So my old acquaintance Sir Alfred is here-he's not a bad
fellow, Douglas! I really feel a regard for him-a littl6
brusque or so occasionally, but has some very good points,
when you know how to manage him-rather too shy, perhaps. Ah, my good friend! speak of any one, and he starts




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.           221
up directly.  How goes all at Douglas Priory?" said Captain M:'Tartan, advancing with extended hand to the Baronet, who entered at that moment, and assuming that patronizing air of encouragement which is always exhibited towards
those who have the reputation of shyness.
" Did you wish to see the Courier?" replied Sir Alfred,
holding out some newspapers which were in his hand, and
making a distant bow.
Captain M'Tartan shrunk back, provoked, but not abashed.'Tell me, Eleanor, how shall we amuse ourselves this
season?  I am your man for anything.  A tableau of all
work, or whatever pleases you; but come what may, for better or for worse, I have hung up my hat here for three weeks
at least!"'' I wish you would change places with it."
"No! no! I'm not come to that yet! You will never
make a victim of me! We've known each other too long,
Eleanor, so there can never be much love lost between us)
though let me tell you that a certain gentleman, not many
miles off, was imzmensely admired by the Russian ladies."
" Every person is supposed to be admired who leaves
home," answered Eleanor.  "When any young lady goes to
England, we are invariably assured by all her relations that
she has been considered the greatest beauty in London. If
she gets as far off as Rome, there are no bounds to what
may be said;-we are then generally told she is taken for
Raphael's Madonna, and mobbed wherever she appears. But
when you talk of what people admire in Russia, I should
imagine that Medusa might pass there for one of the Graces.
A propos of those frozen regions, I. hope we shall enjoy an
arctic climate for my skating-party to-morrow, when there
must be no clouds either on the sky or the earth."
Next morning a bright, joyous, laughing sunshine, and a
clear, hard frost, fulfilled Eleanor's most sanguine hopes,
and for once a party of pleasure assembled, unanimously
declaring that the weather was beyond criticism.  Loch
Deveril glittered, like a broad expanse of mirror, in one
resplendent field, and the whole surrounding country was
clad in a winding-sheet of snow, when the cavalcade of
britschskas, phaetons, pony-carriages, and riders, drew up
along its margin, and the whole cort'ge alighted in a tumnult
of joyous excitement.
Sir Alfred wrapped himself in a large cloak of sable fur,
and leaned against the trunk of a tree, while several other




222                 MODERN SOCIETY,
gentlemen impatiently launched themselves on the ice.
There is something characteristic in every action of a mane;
life, whether it be his manner of sitting, standing, walking,
dancing, entering a room, or even skating, and Eleanor felt
amused for some time with watching and criticizing the different conceptions of that art which were exhibited by various performers.
Captain M'Tartan displayed tremendous powers of velocity, which contrasted well with the graceful'evolutions of
Mr. Grant, whose light and buoyant figure skimmed along
as if he scarcely touched the ice, while Lord Alderby appeared, by his weight, to shake the whole surface of the lake.
This is already marked down as one of the white dlays
in my life!" cried Eleanor.  "Ah! there goes Sir Colin!
slow, deliberate, and vascillating, like one of his own stories.
Mr. Grant's manoeuvres remind one of the maze at Hampton
Court, where so many doublings and windings have been
contrived, that we are always moving, but never advancing.
I see he is waiting for us.  Captain M'Tartan looks like a
Dutch hulk in full sail! Now, Sir Alfred, what shall you
and I dc?"
" One vowel at a time, if you please, Miss Fitz-Patrick, for
that is all that either U or I ever profess to take care of."
"You must be the Scandinavian bear escaped from the
Zoological Gardens, Sir Alfred, for that was precisely the
answer he once made me on a similar occasion. Any one
else in this world would have had his head turned forever,
if I had so much as hinted that his escort might be acceptable."
"We are both spoilt by adulation, Miss Fitz-Patrick."
"Will nobody take down your vanity! Positively, Sir
Alfred, you grow more intolerable every day!"
" Do 1?-that is the very thing I desire!"
"Now, tell me, seriously, if one may venture to ask-are
you supposed to have complete possession of your senses?"
"I know only one or two people who have!"'Mine would very soon be distracted with listening to
such incredibilities, so good-bye, Sir Alfred! I shall never
see you again! It is scarcely worth while to be a' lady in
waiting' for any one, while there stands a lord in waiting
not far off." She pointed to Lord Alderby, and slipping on
her skates, proceeded to join some more active members of
the party, who were already at some distance, in gay and
lively emulation of each other's achievements.




OR THE MARCsH OF INTELLECT.           223
"As Ophelia says,'What a noble mind is there o'erthrown!'" observed Sir Alfred, watching Eleanor's departure, and addressing Matilda.  "Your cousin always seems
to me like a pianoforte all treble, with no full, deep tones in
her character at all."
"Perhaps you might think otherwise, Sir Alfred, if
Eleanor were in circumstances to call them forth.  At the
time of her poor mother's death she suffered deeply, and no
one would have thought her deficient in feeling then; but
amidst such scenes of festivity as she has lately enjoyed,
there is little opportunity to judge of the heart, or to know
whether people have any heart at all."
"Your zealous defence of Miss Fitz-Patrickl, for instance,
is no evidence whether judgment or feeling is the strongest,"
replied Sir Alfred, smiling at Matilda's warmth.  "' But
could a mind of any sensibility be satisfied with mere
amusemnent, in which every serious reflection, and every
kind impulse, is for the present laid aside! Could yout?"
asked he, at once resuming a tone of confidential intimacy.
" No, Miss Howard! I read the answer in your countenance,
for we are both convinced that there is a sphere of thought,
of feeling, and of enjoyment, which the world knows not of,
and which, nevertheless, no one can be happy without having
tried, in a way that your brilliant cousin has never yet done.
Nothing amuses me more than her air'when she enters the
room, which looks.as much as to say.' Here is Miss FitzPatrick, of Barnard Castle, who can neither think, say, nor
do a single thing that should'not be watched and admired.'
One might fancy, from her look sometimes, that she expected
to be received with three rounds of applause."'' Sir Alfred!" replied MIatilda, archly, " if we were to
judge of every one from  appearances, I have heard something very like that said of somebody else."
"II dare say you have! The truth is, Miss Howard, for
I wish to conceal nothing from you, that my reserve seems
unconquerable, except towards the very few whom I trust
entirely; and I care for no familiar intercourse with any one
whose sentiments are not in some degree similar to my own.
As most pleasures appear to be greater when clandestine,
so, in my deepest emotions, it often gives them a profounder
zest to think that tlhey are known only by those friends who
have my most sacred confidence.  t shall never be slow to
acknowledge opinions and principles, where it seems right to
do so, for they are my highest honor; but in proportion to




224                 MODERN SOCIETY,
my reverence for holy things, is my apprehension of hearing
them  hackneyed in ordinary conversation, as a subject for
mawkish sentiment or idle gossip."
"' I quite agree with you, Sir Alfred, in disliking a superficial interchange of unfelt truths, and all that mere jargon
which people sometimes talk in society now; but yet it appears to me a matter of duty, openly to acknowledge such
convictions as are inwardly felt, that we may not seem
ashamed of them."
1" I certainly do encourage rather a morbid sensibility in
that respect, but the moment any man publicly declares his
attachment to serious religion he becomes liable to a thousand deceptions. All those who have any object to gain by
pleasing him, adapt their conversation to his supposed inclinations, so, that in the forming of friendships, and of all
nearer ties, he is apt to be misled and disappointed. Religion is the fashion now, rather than an object of persecution,
as formerly, and my friend Leicester warned me once of
what he had to undergo, after it became generally known
that he withdrew from the world, on Christian principles.
Each lady or gentleman who wished for his confidence, professed an inclination to do likewise, but for some cruel necessity which prevented it. They all agreed to his opinions,
were convinced by his arguments, felt all he had felt, read
what he recommended, subscribed to his favorite charities,
and, in short, made him their counsellor and confessor. Every
one can talk so fluently, and read so much, that he seemed1
to live in an atmosphere of profession without principle, and
my good friend soon had really little else to do than listen
to the eloquence of those whose practice was entirely inconsistent with that knowledge they were so ready so display."
" It is certainly singular what a general familiarity prevails in every company, with the doctrines and feelings of
religion. You never encounter any one in society now who
is not able and willing to discuss that subject in an interesting manner; and though there are not many to whom it is
the first object in life, scarcely an individual I ever converse
with, does not make it the second, to be promoted at some
future time to its proper place."
" There is pain in associating with those who are entirely
ignorant of religion, but still more in hearing those who
know their Master's will, and evidently do it not.  I have
seen your cousin talk like a bishop to Dr. Murray, when the
whim takes her, and if it were understood that the subject




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            225
is one of more than common interest for me, even my friend,
Miss Charlotte Clifford, might get up a few suitable questions
and remarks."
"By allowing yourself to become so fastidious, may not
many opportunities be lost, Sir Alfred, of usefulness to others,
and gratification to yourself? I have often felt agreeably
surprised in talking to friends, on finding that the subject
excited more interest. and that their sentiments were really
more serious than might have been anticipated. With respect to Eleanor, she had early advantages, of which, I trust
and believe, we shall yet see the fruits."
"No one can be otherwise than amused by her vivacity;
but Miss Fitz-Patrick's entire want of sympathy and kindness towards one who deserves both in their highest degree,
has, perhaps, prejudiced me too strongly.  For all that gives
worth or interest to the female character, I long since looked
elsewhere, and found more than my most sanguine wishes
could desire, without having been ever on any single occasion deceived or disappointed.  I am naturally gifted with
a keen perception of character and motives, which, in a world
like this, is seldom an agreeable instinct to possess.  With
me it seems like an additional sense, the clear light in which
I can read thoughts and intentions carefully veiled from ordinary observation; and it is only when in company with
Miss Howard, and a very few others, that I have never felt
cause to regret this habitual penetration."
Scarcely had Sir Alfred done speaking, when a loud and
piercing shriek, which seemed to rend the very skies, arose
on the ice, and was repeated again and again, while Matilda,
with clasped hands and straining eyes, gazed in the direction from whence it came, vainly seeking to ascertain any
cause for so much terror and alarm; but a moment afterwards her. utmost fears were exceeded.
In gay emulation of each other's skill, the party of skaters
had careered about Loch Deveril for a considerable time,
wheeling backwards and forwards, cutting spread-eagles,
and trying races in proof of their pre-eminent grace and velocity.  At length Eleanor, unthinkingly, started with her
utmost speed towards a point which none of the party had
ventured to approach because of a rapid stream which fell
from the neighboring hills, and was known to flow across the
ice, rendering it at all times extremely unsafe. A loud cry
of apprehension from her companions was uttered in vain,
for Miss Fitz-Patriok seemed determined to out-dare them
10*




226                 MODftRN SOCIETY,
all; and, delighted with the notice she excited, as well as
ignorant of her danger, she seenled in the act of lightly
skimming along the surface, and gracefully kissing her
hands to the group of alarmed spectators behind, in laughing defiance of their warnings, when in a moinent she disappeared.
The instant Matilda became conscious of what had happened, she uttered a cry of grief and despair while rushing
forward to the margin of the lake, and hastily proceeding
onwards, almost unconscious of what she did, when her arm
was firmly grasped, and her progress arrested by Sir Alfred
Douglas.
" She is lost! —let me go! —let me try to save her,"
gasped Matilda, in breathless agitation; i" I must help her,
or perish with her!-oh! Sir Alfred, do not stop me, as you
value the life of the person dearest to you on earth."
" That is my reason for detaining you," replied he, in a
tone of such emotion that even her present terror and distress could not make Matilda entirely insensible of it.
" Promise me that you will remain here, whatever happens,
and I shall instantly go in your place."
Scarcely had Matilda given the required assurance before
Sir Alfred darted off, and proceeded on the ice at a rate
which seemed more like the flight of a bird than any mere
human effort of velocity, while she remained fixed to the
spot, with straining eyes and beating heart, watching his
progress, and uttering many an inward prayer for Eleanor,
herself. and him.
No sooner did it become obvious into what very imminent
danger Miss Fitz-Patrick's fool-hardiness had betrayed her,
than, with the most eager recklessness of danger, she was
instantly pursued by one whose courage and presence of
mind were equal to every emergency, while his very life
seemed never worth a thought when an opportunity occurred of risking it with spirit, or of losing it with honor.
Captain M'Tartan appeared to outstrip the wind, he flew
forward with such incomparable fleetness; and all the anxiety wit,h which he was followed by Mr. Grant could not
afford the smallest chance of his being anticipated or overtaken.  Instantly plunging into the gulf where Eleanor
vanished, he seemed scarcely to have left his native element,
and grasping her with a powerful arm, he buffeted his way
up the course of a torrent, which had broken through the
ice, and a moment afterwards placed Miss Fitz-Patrick safe,




Ora THE MAROCI (F iTTELLE.          22 
though nearly insensible, on the shore, amidst the loud acclaamations from the surrounding spectators, who instantly
crowded to the spot.
Miss Marabout was at once sufficiently recovered from her
recent fright to wish for a little bustle and importance on an
occasion when she felt entitled to assume the lead.  She
caused Eleanor to be instantly conveyed to the fishing-lodge
where, after banishing Matilda and every one else from the
room, she prepared to place Miss Fitz-Patrick in bed, when
Eleanor suddenly roused herself, to make a decided protest
against any such arrangement. No persuasions on the part
of. Miss Marabout could induce her to tale any precautions,
except changing her dress for one which was purchased from
the fisherman's daughter; and thus equipped she soon rejoined the party, with all her usual animation of manner,
and with more than her usual beauty, in consequence of recent
agitation having heightened her color, and given additional
lustre to her eyes.
When Matilda saw her cousin once more restored to life
and safety, she forgot for a moment everything but the joy
with which her heart was filled, and clasping Eleanor in her
arms with an exclamation of thankfulness, she burst into
tears.
" My good cousin!" said Miss Fitz-Patrick, in a tone of
more kindness than usual, "you are a perfect Niobe, and
will dissolve altogether some day, if we do not look after
you! My danger must have been greatly exaggerated, and
besides, every one is immortal till his hour is come. Depend
upon it, I am not to be drowned in Loch Deveril, so you
should- never anticipate the worst, but remember there is no
evil so bad as that which never happened.  I recollect nothing of the accident now, except a strange sensation from
having nothing to stand on."
"As for Miss Howard's alarm, that could never be compared with mine!" said Miss Marabout; "but it is not my
way to say much. Every one must see how pale I look-!
My heart still beats like a clock, and my eyes are perfectly
dim with the fright. Really our obligations to Captain
M'Tartan are incalculable, and if he were only in the
room
" Don't speak of him!" interrupted Eleanor, impatiently.
"' If I was destined to meet with an adventure, would nobody be the hero of it but Captain M'Tartan!"
"You Y mast end in being married to him at last," said




228                MODEI s socIET,
Lady Susan Danvers, in an oracular voice. "Whenever any
gentleman saves a lady's life, that is the certain ld&oeoue
ment, however unlikely at the time."
" Yes, every impediment will, of course, give way," added
Miss Charlotte, enjoying Eleanor's visible irritation. "How
delightful it was, long ago, when no young lady seems ever
to have embarked in a boat, mounted on horseback, or
staid at home, without being rescued from imminent danger,
as you were to-day, by some hero like Captain M'Tartan,
who married her three volumes afterwards!"
" I am trying to calculate," said Eleanor, gravely " whether it would have been most advantageous to the world,
that Captain M'Tartan and I should have been both saved or
both drowned-whether he would not have been as great a
riddance to you all as I am an acquisition."
"I He has done more for you," said Lady Susan, looking
maliciously at Mr. Grant, "than many people who make
finer speeches."
"' Poor Foley! We must not be too severe upon him," replied her cousin, turning away the sarcasm from himself.
" I was sure you thought the Major too complimentary this
morning, when he discovered such a family likeness between
us, but I really forgave him at last, knowing how completely
it is his foible, wishing to put ladies on good terms with
themselves." 
At this moment Captain M'Tartan entered from an inner room, where he had been engaged in performing a hnasty
toilet, having contrived with extreme difficulty to squeeze on
the Sunday clothes of a young man who seemed on a moderate computation to be about half his size.  The coat appeared in imminent danger of bursting, and the sleeves were
so short and so tight, that his elbows could not be bent, and
his wrists remained totally uncovered. A pair of white
trowsers, which were meant to be long and wide, scarcely
reached below the knees, his face and hands looked purple
with cold, and his hair stood on end, as if frozen in an upright position. Bowing rather uncouthly to the ladies, he
would have hastened past, when Miss Marabout, who was
on all occasions very attentive to middle-aged beaux, hastily
intercepted his steps, and began an oration which was meant
to be long and eloquent.
"Captain M'Tartan, let me take the first opportunity to
express our admiration and gratitudes-"
"Pshaw!-nonsense, Miss Marabout! —I hate palaver,'




oR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.             229
interrupted h1, trying to hurry on, but she skilfully intercepted him, and proceeded,"We really do consider ourselves under the deepest obligations, and Miss Fitz-Patrick feels imost grateful as well as
myself. A pretty story it would have been, Captain M'Tar.
tan, if the heiress of these wide domains had been drowned
in sight. of us all, without any one affording her the least
assistance, which would have been the case, but for your
gallantry and heroism.'
"One would think we were at a public dinner, Miss Marabout," replied Captain M'Tartan, impatiently measuring the
distance between himself and the door, with evident intentions to make a spring at it.
" Indeed, many people have had public dinners given them
for less,' persisted she.
" It would take a man several bottles of claret to stand
such a broadside as this," muttered the captain, angrily attempting to escape, but still in vain. for though Miss Marabout could not well take him by the button. she contrived to
make it almost equally impossible that he should elude her
vigilance.
"I only speak what Miss Fitz-Patrick thinks, and she
would have expressed her own sentiments on the occasion,
but unfortunately, you will perceive, she is still rather hysterical."
The truth was, that Eleanor had been for some time convulsively endeavoring to restrain a burst of laughter with
whlich she nearly greeted the entrance of her heroic deliverer, and she dared not yet venture on a second glance at
his strange-looking figure.
" This is too much for the shilling gallery," whispered she
to Mr. Grant, seeing a servant enter to announce the carriage, who was obliged to turn away unable to speak, when
his eye caught the grotesque costume before him.
" There is a great difference between empty professions
and spirited actions," continued Miss Marabout. warming
into eloquence  " and it will be seen that Miss Fitz-Patrickl
can appreciate the true value of both."
" Hem! if the coat fits put it on 1" said iMr. Grant, goodhumoredly coming up to the relief of Captain M:Tartan,
whom he perceived to be really annoyed at his detention;
"Stultz, of course," continued he, slipping his arm into the
captain's, and walking him  away.  "My good fellow, as we
Pay in Persia, may your shadow never be less!"




230                MODERN SOCIETY,
" Captain M'Tartan," said Sir Alfred, offering him his
hand with the warmest cordiality, " You nust pardon a little malice and envy from us all.  Fortune has favored you
already with so many opportunities of gaining distinction,
that your laurels might have been spared this morning to
those of us who needed them more."
The grasp of a vice could scarcely have been more powerful than that with which Captain M'Tartan seized the extended hand, but Sir Alfred returned his friendly greeting
with scarcely less em~pressemeidt, while Eleanor was restored
to instant gravity by the surprise of observing what passed.
" To be well shaken when taken," said Mr. Grant, offering his hand also, and contriving to give Eleanor a hint to
do likewise, in consequence of which she felt, bon gre' tal
gre, obliged to come forward.  Lady Susan, perceiving how
the tide set, next advanced, followed by Miss Charlotte and
the whole party, who crowded round the Captain with such a
chorus of congratulation and praise, that his stock of patience became completely exhausted.  "Ladies and gentlemen," said he, breaking through the thick array, and escaping out at the door, " I wish you would observe a rule made
in the Laird of Macfarlane's family long ago, that not above
nine of them were to speak at once!"
" I could tell you a much better story than that"-began
Sir Colin, in a slow methodical voice, which instantly cleared
the cottage of its inmates, and drove them  all for refuge
into the various carriages which were waiting to convey them
home.
" Matilda," whispered Eleanor, taking her cousin's arm,
in a tone of friendly confidence, " there certainly is something
of the sublime and beautiful about Sir Alfred very different
from other men, and you will allow that we can feel very little doubt now of his preference."
"For whom 2" asked her cousin, starting and coloring.
"Nonsense, Matilda!-you must have observed it.  Miss
Mai'about tells me his efforts to reach the place where I fell
into Loch IDeveril were perfectly superhuman, and his speech
to Captain M:Tartan was made with prodigious feeling. All
this is quite unlike his usual indifference about every one
else, and makes the affair perfectly plain to me. Besides,
it is unprecedented, his remaining so much in the saloon as
he has done lately, for Mr. Grant told me that his friend
used to have an utter contempt for any mere drawing-room
man.  Indeed, he asked me, with a particular look this




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.             231
morning, if I had never yet guessed what caused the great
change in Sir Alfred's habits, and would certainly have mentioned something interesting at *the moment, but he gave a
cautionary glance towards you, as much as to say that we
might be overheard."
"Eleanor," replied Matilda, trying to steady her voice,
while a very inconvenient blush stole into her cheek, " there
is some mistake-I am almost certain-that is to say-I
think it right to mention  --
" You don't mean to profess any doubt!" exclaimed her
cousin, with a laugh of angry surprise.  "But I see how it
is-you may talk of vanity, Matilda, but I know some young
ladies who never can think enough of any trifling attentions
which are shown to themselves.  Girls who are unaccustomed to much notice become so conscious of any little civility, that their color flits like an aurora borealis or a shot
silk whenever they are spoken to. I have had some little
experience now in these matters, Matilda, and let me tell
you, that when a gentleman has any serious intentions, his
external devoirs are all paid to some aunt, or cousin, or
grandmother — even the lap-dog and piping bull-finches
come in for a share; but it is to be hoped none of the parties will ever make the mistake of supposing they are preferred."
" Eleanor! there are limits to what I can feel justified in
submitting to from you," said Matilda, with gentle firmness.
" You put old friendship and my sense of our present relative position to a very trying test; but it would be neglecting my duty either towards myself or you, not to explain
the strong reasons I have for believing —-—'
"Pshaw, Matilda! I shall never laugh at Charlotte Clifford again, for all young ladies are alike.  I did think you
had been above those sort of missy-ish confidences; and, to
say the truth, I am tired to death of them.  Sir Alfred
scarcely ever speaks to you; but if he ever makes a formal
declaration let me know; —mcantime I believe nothing that
I am told on these subjects, and only half what I see."
Matilda could not resist a smile when she perceived how
clear-sighted Eleanor was respecting the self-deception of her
friends, while she so blindly flattered herself; but anxious
yet to put Miss Fitz-Patrick on her guard, she took her
cousin's hand before they parted, saying, with a look of frankness and affection," You may say some hasty words in a moment of anger,




282                 MODERN SOCIETY,
Eleanor, but it is impossible seriously to doubt the integrity
of my intentions, or the warmth of my friendship; so, without being overanxious about your good opinion at present,
let me only hint that I have reason to believe Sir Alfred is
not yet attached to you; that, moreover, I seriously think
you prefer Mr. Grant, who would suit you better; and that
while you are amused with attracting attention from the one,
merely because he piques your vanity, the other will be lost
forever, if he is not so already, and I scarcely know any one
whom you would have equal cause to regret. Now, Eleanor,
after all that has passed, I know what you will think of me
for venturing this opinion, but I am resolved at least to deserve your confidence."
Matilda sprung into the carriage, where Lady Montague
and Miss Marabout waited for her, and felt unable to speak
for some time from agitation on account of the effort it had
cost her to persevere in being candid with Eleanor.  At the
time when she had thus openly given an opinion of Sir
Alfred's sentiments, she considered how painfully difficult it
was fully to understand them herself, and how gratefully she
would have listened to any friend who could have acted towards her as she wished to do towards Eleanor.  Matilda
knew but little of the world and its ways; she placed entire
reliance on Sir Alfred's honor and integrity, but still he had
said nothing which a brother might not have done; and the
more she felt inclined to think of him, the stricter seemed
that vigilance with which she ought to watch over her own
peace of mind.  His eye had been the first to mark Eleanor's
want of kindness towards herself, his voice had been the first
to speak of sympathy in a sorrow which had so long distressed her, and it would have been a pleasing indulgence to
let hope and imagination picture a secret attachment on the
part of Sir Alfred, which for some inconceivable reason he
could not at once declare. Almost every young man has a
tyrannical uncle, or father, or aunt, whose wealth and caprice
might be supposed to afford plausible impediments to any decided eclaircissemenzt —but Sir Alfred entertained no expectations from any one: he was. according to the modern phrase,
"his own father," and quite independent of any one's opinion,
so Matilda determined to suppose nothing meant unless dis
tinctly expressed. It was now that she felt the benefit of
having been early practised in commanding her own thoughts.
No romantic visions of imaginary happiness were allowed to
flit through her mind; no exaggerated recollection of past




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            233'
professions, nor any fancied meaning given to words or
actions which she could not entirely forget; but after calmly
and dispassionately considering all that had passed, she became able to satisfy her heart with the reflection that her
happiness had been long since implicitly consigned to the
care of Him who ordered all things well. In praying that
every event may be ordained for the best, we know not what
Zve ask, unless that petition distinctly pledges us to suffer
cheerfully the disappointment of every earthly hope, if
necessary to our future well-being, for it is seldom that the
enjoyment of our desires in a present world is consistent with
our safe and speedy preparation for a better and more enduring inheritence.




284                  MiODERN SOCIETY,
CHAPTER XVI.
When I was yet a. child, no childish play
To me was pleasing; all my mind was set
Serious to learn and know, and thence to do
What might be gen'ral good; myself I thought
Born to that end, born to promote all truth,
All righteous things.
MILTON.
WHEN Matilda re-entered the drawing-room, before din.
ner, she perceived Dr. Murray and Sir Alfred engaged in
deep and earnest conversation, in which they had both the
appearance of being profoundly interested, while she observed with pleasure, her venerable friend's rising animatiQn
of manner, in proportion as he felt himself understood and
appreciated by the young Baronet, who delighted to take
every opportunity of drawing him aside to a private conference.
Matilda had not the slightest intention of: joining thein,
but before she was seated, Sir Alfred rose, and placed a chair,
apparently anxious that she should partake in the same
pleasure which he enjoyed so mnuch himself, while, to his no
small surprise, Eleanor accompanied her cousin as a volunteer in the little coterie.  Miss Fitz-Patrick had such a happy
confidence in herself, that she felt, on all occasions, sure of
being an acquisition; and whenever she saw people intently
conversing, her first impulse was to become one of the party,
though generally rather with an intention to lead than to
follow.  On the present occasion, however, she listened with
unusual deference to the conclusion of Dr. Murrav's discussion respecting the subjects for meditation, which are most
to be cultivated by the Christian mind; and, though what
he said had not been at first intended for so many listeners,
he continued, without showinrg any apparent consciousness
of their augmented numbers.  In describing the wide field
of thought, and the refreshing streams of pleasure which
are thus opened for the heart of man to rejoice in, his own
extraordinary powers of reflection, and his impassioned eloquence of expression, becalme strikingly obvious, and had




OR THE MARCH C F INTELLECT.             235
their usual impressive effect upon all who heard him. Even
Eleanor experienced the influence of a heart and under
standing so truly elevated; but wherever the feelings ought
to be touched, hers were seldom exactly tuned up to concert
pitch; and as she always spoke out the first thought that
occurred, without a doubt of it being right, she could not
fail to betray the nature of her own reflections.  Pleased
with all he said, and judging fiom  herself that praise must
be always acceptable, she exclaimed, in a tone of real admiration, "Dr. Murray! how completely you must feel lost in
this little country parish!"
" Lost! did you say, Miss Fitz-Patrick?" asked he, with
a look of surprise and perplexity. " In what respect "'
4 "Why, there is no opportunity here of distinguishing
yourself,-no  public  meetings,-no  platforms to  make
speeches on — and you ought to have the largest church in
the kingdom, instead of the least.:'
" Little as you think it, the responsibility is more than
sufficient, Miss Fitz-Patrick; and could I alter the extent
of this parish at all, my first wish would be to diminish it;
but the bounds of our habitation are appointed for us; therefore my only desire is to have strength given me in proportion to what is a sacred' duty towards the four thousand persons for whose welfare I am in a great degree answerable."
"But your learning and talents are thrown away upon
people who cannot possibly appreciate them."
aMy parishioners estimate me precisely as I wish," replied
Dr. Murray, with a benevolent smile, seeing that for once he
must talk of the person who was generally least in his thoughts
or conversation-/himself.    i I trust we all experience, that
there is no happiness in life equal to that of promoting the
happiness of others; and in watching over that of so many,
my greatest ambition is to be regarded as the friend and
counsellor of each individual.'I woulcd not have one of
them imagine -me above symnpathizing in their cares and sorrows, and even in their ignorance, for it has often occurred
to me that much of the dissent throughout this kingdom is
occasioned by the wide disparity in rank and intellect bet.ween the established clergy and their parishioners.  It must
seem to these poor people as if we could never have suffered
like themuselves, and could scarcely enter into their ideas,
which might account for their being enticed by the ministrations of those who do not intimidate them by a show of superiority.  Nothing pleases me more, Miss Fitz-Patrick, than




236                 MODERN SOCIETY,
to perceive the perfect readiness with which my people come
to me, and the entire confidence with which they ask my
opinion in every emergency.  Poor Donald M'Intyre consulted me yesterday, about the price of his cart-horse, and I
was quite flattered to observe the interest he expected me
to take in his purchase."
" But then, Dr. Murray, what pleasure can there be in
composing your sermons so beautifully, and delivering them
with such eloquence as I know you do?"
" Miss Fitz-Patrick, never poison your friends with praise,
-it is dangerous diet for any one to live upon; but if there
be a single individual to whom the mere composition and
delivery are of importance, then no pains should be spared
to improve both.  We must be'all things to all men, that
by anry means we may win sonze.' Yet, give me a congregation who listen profoundly, and disperse to their houses in
silence, impressed with the awful truths which I come to
promulgate, rather than one who could be moved to a tempest of emotion, and then follow it up, as people of education too often do, with a critical disquisition on the style, on
the train of argument, and on everything except the effect
intended to be produced on their own life and conduct."
" That reminds me," said Matilda, " of the panegyric
which Louis XIV. pronounced on Massillon, for I am sure
you would prefer it, Dr. Murray, to any other praise:' many
preachers makse me think a great deal of themn, but this one
teaches me to think think little of?lyself' "
" So, Dr. Murray, being myself a member of the parish,"
observed Eleanor, " I am glad for the sake of Gaelfield, that
you have no ambition for a higher sphere."
"It would scarcely be possible for me to enter on a happier one.  Miss Fitz-Patrick, those who were young when
I first came here, have grown old under my care. I have
rejoiced in the blessed progress of the just, and mourned
over the sins of the profligate.  Many parents and many
children I have buried, and I married most of those who
are now smiling in prosperity around me. It has been my
duty to soothe the sorrows of all, and to know, in every separate house, the hopes and fears. the temptations and afflictions of my people.  Could anything ever unite me as closely
to another congregation?  These are, in every sense, my
own family, and no promotion could compensate for dividing
me from all that has hitherto engrossed and interested me
in existence. It is strange, —it is deeply impressive, to be




OR THlE MARCII 1OF INTELLECT.          23'
a spectator of life so long as I have been.' To look back
upon the lapse of years, and remember it like the flitting
pageantry of a theatre.  The bloom of youth has now faded
on many a healthful cheek-the spring of hope has dried
up in many a sanguine heart — the smiling infant, the
cherished bride, and the aged patriarch, have each and all
been torn from their weeping families, while I am yet left to
declare that there has been but one anchor of hope, both sure
and steadfast. They have passed away, as it were, in a
mournful procession, and I wait till my summons comes, to
follow. Then, when dust returns to dust, my desire is to
be laid in the grave beside my own people, and beneath the
shadow of those walls where we have so often assembled
together."
There was silence for a moment. as no one could reply;
and Dr. Murray seemed anxious to proceed, though unable
at once to do so; but having considered for some time, he
added, in a tone of great feeling," Miss Fitz-Patrick! I have laid open my mind the more
clearly at present, from an anxious desire to speak once
again on the subject which we discussed yesterday, that by
revealing the deep interest I take in all my people, you may
appreciate the extent of my solicitude respecting one who
suffers so severely.  I might tell you that many sorrowful
scenes have already fallen to my share: —that I have seen
the laugh of frolicsome youth suddenly change to the cry of
despairing anguish,-that I have seen hearts alienated forever, which once were linked by the strongest ties of earthly
affection; and that, stranger and sadder than either, I have
watched over the bright intellect of man becoming gradually
darkened beneath the infirmities of age, while the senses and
the affections were sunk into a living grave; but never, oh!
never before, did I see all these united in one overpowering
calamity, and a mind, yet in the vigor of youth, struggling
against the undeserved imputations of guilt, and against the
inroads of insanity.'"
"' Dr. Murray!" replied Eleanor, starting and coloring.
"it was impossible to hear all you told me yesterday without being deeply affected, and I lost not an hour in sending
my housekeeper, Mrs. Gordon, to Gowanbank.  She says
Nanny has greatly recovered since your visit, and is urgent
for her sister's marriage to take place without delay.  She
talks of the wedding incessantly, and her eyes were perfectly
lighted -up when she spoke of it to Martha; but she has




238                 MODEiRN SOCIE TY
merely requested that William Grey shall never enter the
house till he becomes her brother.  The cold Nanny caught,
with being out so late and so improperly in the evenings,
brought on a slight feverishness and delirium, which Mrs.
Gordon assures me is perfectly cured, and I have desired no
expense to be spared in making her comfortable at home.
We shall send again, in a few days, to inquire if she continues well."
" No messenger will be necessary to-morrow, as I shall
call there myself, on our way home, to tell Nanny of the
promise you made me yesterday, Miss Fitz-Patrick.  It will
be the poor girl's best consolation to feel assured that this
whole business shall be thoroughly sifted.  Her character
must not be left at the mercy of vague suspicion any longer;
and for my own part, I have a perfect confidence in the result of your investigations."
Eleanor looked exceedingly annoyed at this unexpected
appeal to her memory, respecting a promise which had been
given in haste, and repented of at leisure.  She foresaw a
world of trouble which it would involve to disturb the harmony of her household at present, and it had appeared such
an easy way of temlporizing wvith the whole affair, to get rid
of Nanny, and let the blanie rest with her, that she fully
persuaded herself of the justice, as well as the convenience
of this measure; and now, with a peevish exclamation about
the "'plaoue of servants," she tuined hastily from the observant look with which Dr. Murray regarded her, for it was
evident that. upon this subject, lie had resolved to be persevering and decided.
W"Tell, Dr. Murray," said Eleanor, adopting her usual
plan of altering disagreeable topics, "if this country were
the Happy Valley of!Rasselas, I should still feel in your
place the same misery that'he did, about the impossibility
of ever getting away, for 1 begin to dislike it already, with
respect to Barnard Castle.": There is much truth in the French proverb," said Sir
Alfred.:'; La f6licit6 est dans le gouit, et non pas dans les
choses, ou les places.' "
"True indeed," replied Dr. Murray.  "My neighbor at
Clanpibroch Castle is poor and discontented on an almost
boundless income-and old Janet used to think herself rich
and happy with scarcely enough to purchase the necessaries
of life. Many a lesson I have received in that cottage, of




OR TIlE MAiCH OF INTELLECT.            239
cheerful self-denial, for truly our best school of practical divinity is often found in the homes of the pious poor."
"1 You must frequently wish for a larger incomle, in order
to relieve their wants?" said Eleanor. "It lmight extend
your sphere of usefulness."
" I have quite a sufficient one forl all professional purposes.
We have long been happy on little, and might be miserable
on a great deal; therefore, neither for my people nor myself do I desire an increase.  Their habits are simple, and
their wants are few."
"I do wonder, then, how people manage to keep down
their necessities," said Eleanor, with a consequential look
round her splendid rooms.  "Mine seem to increase every
day."
"You should never let them grow," said Mr. Grant, joining the circle.  " No man is poor unless he thinks himself
so, and I live upon a straw a-day without ever feeling the
want of more.  You would admire, Miss Fitz-Patrick, the
superlative dignity with which I can pay off my last guinea,
looking as if thousands more were ready to follow.": But with respect to Dr. Murray, he must really give us
a chapter like Dr. Johnson's,' On the wants of a man who
wants nothing;' for he is the first person I ever met with
who had not some good presentable reason for wishing to be
rich."
"Unfortunately, you must perceive, Miss Fitz-Patrick,
that our friend here has no expensive taste to serve as an
outlet for this imaginary large income. Dr. Murray feels
but little ambition to collect china or pictures-lie dislikes
a carriage, has no penchant for a French cook, nor the
slightest desire to set up his yacht. Besides which. if all his
friends are like me, they would rather dine with him  on a
plain joint and a bottle of sherry, than with any other per
son on champagne and turtle.  Therefore, having settled to
your satisfaction the impossibility of his spending, I believe
he would still more dislike to hoard, which retninds me of a
plan I once invented for enriching the government, to be
proposed by some able legislator like Sir Alfred.  Whenever it can be legally proved that any man has, during ten
years, not lived up to his fortune, let the surplus be confiscated on behalf of those good people who positively cannot
live within theirs; and anything that is over, to go for the
relief of taxation."
"Very good," said Eleanor; " your uncle might be kept




240                 MODERN SOCIETY,
very cheaply at the public expense, with the old gig, the old
horse, the old butler, and the old grey coat, as usual, and
what would he lose? I estimate every person's wealth by
what he spends; and an avaricious man, whatever money
may be in his name at a bank, is born a beggar, and'dies a
beggar!"
" I consider every one more or less insane in proportion
as he hoards or does not hoard," observed Mr. Grant, laughing;: yet to those who thoroughly enjoy the pleasure of saving, it is a perpetual amusement.  The richest of us cannot
be always giving or spending money, but the miser finds incessantly recurring pleasure in every pin he picks' up, or in
every scrap of paper he saves; but certainly those of iodern times enjoy less happiness than their predecessors, because a banker's book cannot be half so interesting an object
of contemplation as the chests of gold and the bright guineas
which they are represented as perpetually counting in old
pictures."
"Sir Alfred'" said Eleanor, soon after, when Dr. Murray
was called away by Sir Richard, " I see you understand canvassing better than one would suppose, by your paying attention to our parish clergyman.  He has unbounded influence over all the farmers and people about the district, if
you only persuade him to exert it."
" Can you possibly imagine, Miss Fitz-Patrick, that I am
biassed by self-interest in associating with Dr. Murray!"
replied Sir Alfred in momentary astonishment. No, believe
me, that is an honor which I appreciate for its own sake.
We never touch upon politics together, and, except where
they are immediately connected with his own profession, he
generally avoids the subject entirely."
" A'propos, Douglas," said Mr. Grant, " I have been doing a bit of popularity for you to-day. Our old adversary,
Jones, the farmer at Bannockfield, has lost a quantity of
cattle lately, so I rode over, and asked, at a venture, for his
brown cow. By good fortune there were a dozen of that
color, one of which had been complaining, so he was prodigiously pleased at the attention. We went all over the stock,
and I praised his pigs, poultry, and children most zealously,
besides talking big about the landed interest. His parting
looks promised me a vote, and, if you will believe me, Miss
Howard, nothing could exceed old Jones's disappointment
when he discovered that I was not the candidate myself!"




O1R TRE MARCH OF INTELLECT..241
i"; dare say that, for in his place I would certainly have
capitulated."
" Now, Sir Alfred's conception of canvassing is such a
contrast to mine   He rides up to the door of every farmer
or shopkeeper, with his well-mounted groom  behind, and
sends for the voters.  Out they come, hat in hand, and he
strokes his horse's head, tells them his opinions have been
fully stated, and asks for their votes in the sort of commanding tone with which I would order a pair of boots or a few
tons of hay. It takes amazingly, for he looks as if no one had
ever refused him anything, and that it was quite impossible
they should."
" There are occasions when I could be diffident enoughperhaps more so than you. Grant; but that is only where
there is much to be asked," said Sir Alfred, fixing his eyes
for a moment on Matilda, with a look of anxious interest,
which brought the ready color to her cheek.  The tone in
wb ich these few words were said, appeared so full of sensibility,
that Eleanor felt how much meaning was attached to them;
but supposing that, of course, they must be meant for herself, she turned away with a conscious smile, satisfied that
nothing could be more undoubted than his devoted attachmnent.
"Sir Alfred," said Miss Charlotte, joining the party, "I
cjnm positively assured you were so exclusive on the Continent
that you would not make a single acquaintance, and cut all
those who knew you already."
" On the contrary, I behaved particularly well!-answered
almost everybody who spoke to me, and endeavored to
endure them. But, Miss Clifford, pray write my travels,
and depend upon it I shall vouch for whatever you like to
assert"                         *
" It is a great advantage to begin the world, as you have
done, by establishing a reputation for being' odd,' as one
must never be surprised or offended at anything you say or
do," continued Miss Charlotte.  " I often tell people the
strangest stories about you, Sir Alfred, but they invariably
reply, with a laugh,'That is so like him!'"
"On the same plan, every lady at the head of a country
mansion," said Mr. Grant, " should set up for having' a way'
of her own, and then whatever habit she adopts is above all
criticism. If any visitor complains of remaining a whole
day in the house without her noticing him, as Mr. Armstrong
did yesterday, the ready answer of every one is-' Ah! that
11




24                  MODERN SOCIETY,
is her way!' If another remarks that she kept dinner waiting an hour, those who are more intimate reply, with a look
of contemptuous superiority,'I perceive you don't know'"her way"!' and if she sits a whole evening in a remote
corner of the room with one friend, to the exclusion of all
the others, still nobody could be so unreasonable as to take
offence, if it is' her way.' So, the momernt any lady establishes a way, she is at perfect liberty to be as capricious as
she likes, though, till then, I do not know a greater slave to
the whims of others than one who is determined to make her
country house agreeable."
"Well, then! here is Martin to announce dinner, and it
is'my way' not to wait till Lord Alderby comes to hand
me in," said Eleanor, looking at Sir Alfred, who felt obliged
to take the hint, and with an almost imperceptible glance
towards Matilda, who could not but observe it, he offered his
arm to Miss Fitz-Patrick, and silently conducted her to the
dining-room. The young Baronet had often maintained an
opinion that it was much more tolerable to live with those
who talk too little than with those who talk too much, and
he never felt more perfectly confirmed in any assertion than
on the present occasion. Eleanor's spirits were excited beyond even their usual pitch; and being resolved to complete
at once her supposed conquest, she spoke incessantly, and
made Sir Alfred's eyes, ears, and whole attention perfect
prisoners, so that he could scarcely snatch a momentary interval to eat, and sent the greater portion of his dinner
away untasted.  It would have been more tolerable to him
if the dinner-bell had continued ringing in his ears during
as long a time; but there being no escape, he composedly
resigned himself to his fate, and assumed an external aspect
of deference and attention, to conceal the want of real interest in what she said.  Upon this Eleanor became more than
ever confident that he must be charmed with her vivacity;
and, little guessing how different was the style of conversation he preferred, she rattled on with immeasurable rapidity,
regretting only that Matilda seldom lookled her way, or she
could not have been otherwise than convinced how fallacious
had been her own opinion of Sir Alfred's indifference.
Meantime Miss Marabout began entertaining Dr. Murray,
at another end of the table, with a most sublime and terrific
edition of Eleanor's adventure that morning on the ice. Her
account might have sufficed to bring Captain M'Tartan a
medal from the Humane Society, she enlarged upon it in




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            243.
such glowing terms; and being seldom much listened to by
any one, her eloquence rose as she proceeded, and seemed
likely to beconme endless, The object of this panegyric, who
sat near, was evidently annoyed almost beyond endurance;
he writhed about in his chair, colored, talked of other subjects, and at length, perceiving that it would never terminate,
as she appeared evidently to think praise must be secretly
gratifying: to him, Captain M'Tartan exclaimed, in an irri
tated voice,
"Miss Marabout! I would rather go into the pillory at
once than be held up in this ridiculous way!-one would
imagine I had leaped into the whirlpool of Corryvrekan!"
"Come! my good friend! take a glass of wine with Eleanor!" said Sir Richard. " I fancy you. both had water enough
for to-day."
"Why really, my cousin's white poodle might do all I
did to-day; and Blanco would have answered the purpose
better than I in one respect, that I fancy she is very much
preferred!"
" I remember hearing a remarkable instance of sagacity in
a Newfoundland dog," began Sir Colin, eagerly.
"Fletcher! a glass of Madeira?" interrupted Sir Richard.
" With pleasure!-in a Newfoundland dog, and —---
"Sir Colin! send Miss Clifford a slice of turkey," interposed Mr. Grant.
" Take my advice, old gentleman! and when you want to
spin a yarn in this house, clap on all steam, or else wait till
after dinner," said Captain M'Tartan, good-humoredly.
"The dog was given to my friend, Sir Jonathan Fowler,
by Captain Hargrave," persisted the Baronet, " one of these
Leicestershire Hargraves, a Captain in the 33rd infantry,
who distinguished himself in Spain.-Poor fellow! he lost
both.his legs.there    "
" The dog!" exclaimed Mr. Grant.
"No! Sir Jonathan Fowler," replied Colonel Pendarvis.
"You are all wrong! it was Captain Hargrave of the
33rd."
(" Rather awkward for a Captain in the Feet to lose both
his legs!" added Major Foley.'" Pray," asked Miss Murray, " how do oficers travel in an
infantry regiment? Do they take post-chaises?"
" Always in hackney-coaches," replied Mr. Grant.  "But
i am told every regiment is to have its own omnibus now."




244                 MODERN SOCIT-Y,
"In fact,' pursued Sir Colin, "the courage and saga.
city of those animals might often put men to the blush,
and   - -"
"Very true!" interrupted Miss Marabout, "and had it
not been for Captain M'Tartan's admirable boldness and
presence of      "
"Miss Marabout!" interrupted he, " if you mention
this affair in my hearing again, I shall instantly leave the
room."
"M'Tartan! will you take wine?" said Sir Alfred, in a
tone of friendly regard with which he seldom addressed any
one; and if the gallant Captain had been knighted on the
spot, he could scarcely have looked more surprised and pleased
than at this unexpected attention.
"As I was saying," continued Sir Colin, deliberately,
C" about this dog of Sir Jonathan's —-— "
"1 Fletcher, I am told you make it a rule never to tell any
story twice the same, because that would show such a want
of imagination," said Mr. Grant.  " I like the plan amazingly, for it is so much more entertaining than those dull
prosing people who have everything stereotyped on their
brain, and never can bring out a new edition. Now! last
time you told that story the dog was a poodle! yes, decidedly, a black poodle 1"
"People with luxuriant imaginations should really try to
curb them," added Eleanor.  "One must keep to fact, Sir
Colin, for there is nothing of so much consequence as to be
quite correct in the minutest details. I like even to know
whether you sat on a person's right hand or his left."
No inducement could bring either of his accusers to hear
Sir Colin's indignant protestations of rigid accuracy-the
laugh was universal, and, in despair of receiving common
justice, he turned angrily to Matilda, who compassionately
lent her eyes for half an hour, though her ears were more
amusingly entertained in listening to the lively sallies that
were passing all round the table. Sir Colin's voice sounded
like a bee buzzing at her ear, until his final titter recalled
her attention in time to take a part in the laughing chorus
with which he always wished to conclude.
When the gentlemen re-entered the drawing-room at a
late hour that evening, Mr. Grant stole round behind a large
sofa where most of the young ladies were engaged in an ani-,mated discussion, and leaning over the back of it, with a
coffee-cup in his hand, he fixed his laughing eyes on Elea



Oit THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.          24b
nor and Miss Charlotte, who had both been talking at once,
but paused suddenly on observing him near.
"Mr. Grant," said Eleanor, slyly, " listeners never hear
good of themselves. If you could adopt invisibility, and
know all we are saying, it would make you hold up your
three hands with astonishment!"
" Then it is as 1 guessed, and you were talking of me. I
was certain the subject must be more than commonly inter.
esting.  Few nerves can stand the reception we meet with
on coming up stairs after dinner.  The ladies all pause, and
look disconcerted at our entrance, which really puts a shy,
diffident man like me quite out of countenance."
"Every person living professes to be shy!!" exclaimed
Miss Charlotte; "but I certainly had an idea that you
were thoroughly bronzed, Mr. Grant."
" How little you know me, Miss Clifford! I really am
the shyest man in existence, and often wonder that young
ladies never have the charity to pay me more attention.
You should try to draw me out, and give me confidence. I
have one small merit which obscures many greater ones, and
that is modest merit."
"Matilda made precisely that remark on you five minutes ago," said Eleanor, archly.  "' My cousin is always
rather censorious, and she was wondering you ever went
into society, seeing how dull and silent it made you; but
she thinks Sir Alfred's chatty pleasant manners must render him the life of every tea-table."
" You have my free permission to believe this, if it be
possible, Mr. Grant," added Matilda; "my cousin seems to
have mistaken her own opinion for mine."
" You would never do for the heroine of a novel, being so
ready with an answer," cried Eleanor, laughing. " Now a
thorough-bred heroine ought to appear continually speechless with emotion. Another deficiency, let me take this
opportunity of remarking,-Whenever a gentleman attempted being civil to a young lady formerly, she was all
on fire to repress his hopes and to punish his presumption;
but, on the contrary, my good cousin is really forgetting her
duty towards poor Sir Colin. He has twice handed you a
cup of tea to-night, so it is full time at least to look repulsive; this morning you got up a smile at his favorite bon
mot about Sir Jonathan Fowler calling his fallen postilion a
postilioff; and you are the only young lady he knows who
can laugh at his stories, and not at himself:"




246                MODERN SOCIETY,
"You are maliciously bent on making mischief between
Sir Colin and me, Eleanor, but I shall not be your dupe,
having resolved to avoid all Missy-ish airs of that kind.
You may have the most perfect reliance on his indifference,
and I find great advantage from the attention he shows
me.";"Well! well! we shall all see what you will bring on
yet.  Mr. Grant, only imagine what a proposal it would be;
-two sheets of foolscap, with six or seven postscripts at
least."
" Imagine!" exclaimed Mr. Grant, with animation. " If it
be supposed possible for him to have so much presumption,
I- could write down every word he would say; beginning
with -"
" Hush! not now 1" exclaimed Eleanor, with sudden eagerness; and Matilda looked round expecting from her cousin's
manner to perceive Sir Colin within ear-shot: but she saw
only Sir Alfred sitting near, and the old Baronet himself, at
a great distance, haranguing to Lady Susan, who had assumed a look of animated attention.
" How I do like to see young people happy!" said Mr.
Grant, following the direction of Matilda's eyes. "Their
united ages are exactly a hundred and sixty."
" Now hear me, Matilda!" continued Eleanor, gravely. " I
know the world, and you do not, so it is quite presumptuous
to set up your judgment in opposition to mine. Depend
upon it, Sir Colin is not a man to trifle with. I once knew
an old gentleman, nearly his age, who died of an apoplexy
from disappointment; and poor General Anderson has had
the gout ever since Adelaide Montague refused him. If
you hear a story out once again, observe, I shall not be answerable for the consequences. Go now, like a good girl,
and give us some music, after which you-you might dance
us a few of your steps."
Matilda plainly perceived that Eleanor wished to monopolize the conversation of Mr. Grant, so she strolled to a
distant table for her work. Scarcely had she drawn out a
needle, however, before, to her infinite annoyance, Sir Colin
approached, and was instantly plunged into the labyrinth of
his most interminable narrative, from which nothing short
of rudeness could have disentangled her.  A  transient
smile passed over the features of Sir Alfred, when he caught
Matilda's eye wandering round the room for a pretext to escape, while she also saw her cousin and Mr. Grant watching




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECTo            247
her with the most undisguised diversion.  It seemed evl
dent that they were talking of her; and the subject became
productive of extreme amusement, which was testified by
frequent laughter.  Nevertheless, Eleanor found intervals
to cast many satirical glances and reproachful looks at Matilda. shrugging her shoulders, and turning up her eyes to
intimate what an unpardonable flirt they both considered
her.  Miss Howard felt a shrinking apprehension of ridicule;
but having resolved on all occasions, whether trifling or important, not to be biassed by it, but to act, as she believed
at the moment, to be right, without indulging too much her
own natural sensitiveness, she determined now to remain
stationary though annoyed by her cousin's bantering looks,
and inwardly intent on escaping from the thraldom of Sir
Colins ANEcdotage at the first opportunity when politeness
and good feeling rendered it possible.  At length Eleanor
hastily rose, and gravely shaking her head at her cousin, she,
walked towards the library, followed by Mr. Grant.  No
sooner had they departed, than Sir Alfred approached the
place where she sat, and made an immediate diversion in
Matilda's favor, by asking Sir Colin for his friend Sir Jonathan Fowler, and assuming an attitude of attention to the
very elaborate reply which followed, while she gladly hastened towards the pianoforte.  It was now that Miss Howard, for the first time, fully estimated the prolixity of Sir
Colin's style, when she observed Sir Alfred enduring it on
her account, and that his eye became fixed on a vacant chair
near herself, which he seemed evidently anxious to seize the
first opportunity of occupying. It was obvious with what
impatience he bore Sir Colin's tediousness; but at length,
having hastily terminated the interview, by making a short
concluding remark, in his own peculiar style, Sir Alfred proceeded a step towards the seat he had so long been preparing to take.  Matilda colored and smiled as he approached;
and nothing seemed likely to impede the pleasure of the
evening, when suddenly, and most unexpectedly, the empty
place became occupied by the very last person in the room
whom she expected to see there.
Mr. Armstrong had been for some time humming to himself the airs in I _Pzw'itanmi, while sitting near Eleanor, in the
library, when all at once he started up, after something she
said to Mr. Grant, and hurried in obvious irritation to the
drawin g-room r. It was evident from the glitter of Miss FitzPatrick's eye, that. her wit had been levelled:at him, and that




248                 MODERN SOCIETY,
she had put in what was considered a successful stroke, ro%:
the excited and furious expression of Mr. Armstrong's dark.
sallow countenance showed how it had told. Placing himself beside Matilda, he remained for some moments silent, but
his compressed lip and flashing eye spoke of the Ntorml that
raged within.  To the disappointment of seeing Sir Alfred
withdraw and join Dr. Murray instead of herself, Matilda had
the additional grievance of being placed beside the ouly
person against whom she ever entertained an unconquerable
aversion; and there was a sternness and malignity in his
eye, which, united with his meanness in remaining under a
roof where he appeared so obviously unwelcome, made her
gentle nature recoil from his approach.
"Pray, Miss Howard!" said he, abruptly, "did you ever
hear of an Irishman who sawed off the branch of a tree oD
which he was sitting himself? Your cousin may some
morning encounter such another fall as he had, and be equally
surprised."
"Indeed!" replied Matilda, seeing she was expected to
speak.  "' I should be sorry for that!"
" Perhaps you may have cause to rejoice, and I shall be
the first to light a bonfire on that occasion. If you were told
all Miss Marabout repeats of your cousin's observations on
us both, you would know better what to think upon this
subject."
" I am shocked to hear of Miss Marabout's treachery! but,
Mr. Armstrong, no man need expect to be discussed in his
absence as he would be if present, and we must make allowances for lively spirits. I could not trust the misrepresentations of any person who openly violates the mutual confidence on which all society depends, and I am sorry that the
friend my cousin so entirely relies on should be unworthy of
her kindness."
" There are secrets, Miss Howard, in the best regulated
families, and if yotrcould find them all out, I know one whichl
would be worth a trifle.  Pay your best respects to me, and
if I choose to do all that could be done-but I say nothing."
"So it appears!" replied Matilda, laughing  good-humoredly.  "Do what is just and right, Mr. Armstrong, hbut
never expect that I shall pay attention to any one fi-om
sinister motives.7'
i" What is just!" exclaimed he, twisting his features into
a tremendous contortion, expressive of mysterious caution.
" You may be rather surprised, Miss Howard, to hear what




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.           249
strict justice might involve. How should you like to have
~12,030 a-year?-answer me that! What would you say, if
with a single whisper, I could bring Lord Alderby, and all
Miss Fitz:Patrick's admirers to your feet, instead of hers?"
" Why! neither she nor I could desire it!"
" You know the old proverb, Miss Howard,'point d'argent,
point de S&isse.' It would be a friendly thing to drop a hint
of that to Miss Fitz-Patrick.  Perhaps, if I am not better
treated, her lovers may be put to the test," added Mr. Armstrong, with a look of malignity towards the next room, where
Eleanor sat laughing, with Mr. Grant, but his voice became
nearly drowned by a brilliant prelude with which Matilda
began an air of Rossini's, in order to terminate a conversation which she considered unpleasant and incomprehensible.
"Miss Howard," said he, with increasing irritability,
"your music may be good, but your cards are very ill played."
"How can I do otherwise, without knowing what the cards
are?" replied she, pausing in the midst of a cadence, and
turning her bright ingenuous contenance full upon him.
"Seriously, Mr. Armstrong, you perplex and annoy me with
hints and inuendoes which it is impossible to understand,
and which direct my thoughts toward apparent impossibilities; therefore, let there be an end to such discussions, and,
believe me, I am perfectly satisfied with the present state of
affairs, which are all more wisely ordered than either you or
I could have done. If any alteration ever comes, it shall
not be of my seeking."
"Then allow me to say but one word at parting," answered
Mr.' Armstrong, with a look of intense cunning, "and take
time to consider what you would give, Miss Howard, to have
the mystery cleared up. I could make you mistress of Barnard Castle to-morrow, with a snap of my fingers," and,
suiting the action to the word, he suddenly started up, and.
hurried out of the room.
Matilda was bewildered and amazed at his strange language, and extraordinary manner, though the more she considered, the less she thought it possible that such power
could be in his hands, as he seemed to intimate, nor did she
feel that it could have added to her happiness, if the revolution had been produced which he threatened.  Miss
Howard saw the evil effects of extreme prosperity on her
cousin, and she would have feared it for herself. She observed, also, in no very inviting colors, the unnatural position
which any young lady must hold in society, who is very richly
11*




25)3               MODERN SOCIETY,
endowed; and she perceived Eleanor often so encumbered
with the adventitious importance of her situation, besides
being viewed by every acquaintance so differently from what
she would have been without it, that Matilda sometimes remembered the fable of the peacock which asked Jupiter for
a splendid tail, and afterwards found himself so unable to
fly, and so beset by other birds of inferior plumage, that he
would gladly, at last, have dispensed with his brilliant appendage, to be placed on an equality with the rest.
Matilda had been completely abstracted for some moments,
till she perceived that the ladies were about to withdraw, and
was surprised to observe that Mr. Grant and Eleanor were
still apparently engaged in a secret conference, which ended
by his rapidly glancing round. the room, and clandestinely
slipping a letter into the heiress's hand, who received it with
a smile of animated pleasure, but at the same time, with an
equally apparent desire of concealment, for when she suddenly looked round, and caught her cousin's eye, the color
mounted to her cheeks with perplexity and annoyance, while
she hastily secreted the document in her reticule.
What it could be, Miss Howard had scarcely time to conjecture, before her cousin hastily beckoned her to follow, saying she had something particular to communicate. Matilda
had been seated for some time afterwards beside the dressing-room fire, before Eleanor seemed conscious of her presence, for she continued nearly ten minutes in an anteroom
with Pauline, giving some very lengthened directions and
explanations, which were concluded with the most earnest
injunctions on her Abigail to be speedy.  When all was
over, and Miss Fitz-Patrick at last sat down, her cousin had
too much good breeding to testify any impatient curiosity
respecting the object of her being summoned, but made a
trifling remark in hopes that the business would soon be
opened on which they had met; but whatever that might
be, it seemed for the moment entirely to have escaped her
friend's memory, who caught hold of any subject which
might be suggested, and pursued it eagerly, as if that alone
had any interest. At length it seemed necessary to recall
her cousin's attenti6n to whatever she had been so anxious
to communicate, therefore Matilda determined to lead the
way.
"You wished to speak to me this evening, I think,.Eleanor I?"
" Oh yes!-to be sure I did! —what was I going to say?




OR THRI MARCH OF INTELLECT.          251
— Now, help me, Matilda, for you can always guess what I
would be at."
"Perhaps it'was about that letter which I saw Mr. Grant
give you 2"
"A letter!-oh no!-that was only a-a copy of a newsong.  Have you seen the —' The charming woman 2' 
". You had the words of that song some time ago; but I
shall intrude on your confidence no farther, seeing you do
not wish it at present; only, dear Eleanor, beware for your
own sake, as well as Mr. Grant's, how you encourage his
intimacy without a definite decision as to what influence it
may have on the happiness of either.  He suffered all the
sorrow of unrequited affection once; so it would be your turn
next."  This was said in a jocular tone by Matilda; and yet
there appeared more of sincerity in her remark than
Eleanor liked, and a pause of some moments ensued.  "Perhaps," added she, coloring and hesitating, " you meant to
allow me one more opportunity of pleading for poor Nanny;
and at all events, I must risk your anger for this once to
preserve us both from all danger of future self-reproach."
With all the eloquence of nature and feeling, Matilda now
represented Nanny's situation, and entreated Eleanor to
judge for herself, and not to be biassed by the misrepresentations of any one, so as to deny her an opportunity of being
speedily reinstated in the good opinions of all around, by a
strenuous investigation of the whole business. It was too
late now to restore the poor girl's happiness to what it might
have been, for she understood that by Nanny's own desire,
her former lover was to be married the very next day to
Martha, according to their previous engagement; but at
least her reputation was still within the reach of justification,
and ought if possible to be cleared. Where there is a total
vacuum, the largest bell is rung in vain, and Matilda's efforts
called forth no answering look from Miss Fitz-Patrick, who
seemed entirely pre-occupied with some other subject, while
an unconquerable smile played about her mouth and lurked
in the corner of her eye.
" Well! I shall think of all this, Matilda; but now goodnight, for you must be tired of talking so much, and of listening to Sir Colin also-could you not give him the same
hint that Gil Bias did to the Archbishop of Grenada about
his homilies?  Don't you talk of flirting, for I never went
on in my life as you did this evening! after having been
fairly warned, too) so take the consequences!  Be careful




252                MonDErN Sooexnt
not to lose your way through the passages; for all the
lamps must be out; and Pauline once spent an entire night
on the staircase, in consequence of having been benighted
there. Poor creature; she is terrified at every turn after
dusk, expecting to encounter one of our Highland ghosts in
full kilt."




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            253
CHAPTER XVII,
Grace, that with tenderness and sense comnbin'd
To form that harmony of soul and face,
Where beauty shines the mirror of the mind.
MASON.
MATILDA took leave, and rapidly proceeded towards hex
own apartment. As she traversed the large gloomy entrancehall, silence reigned throughout its wide extent; and at every
door a draught of air threatened to blow out the light she
carried, which flared up in her eyes, when she ventured to
quicken her pace. At last a sudden.gust of wind extinguished
her taper, and Matilda was left in total darkness. Perfectly
acquainted with the way, however, she groped along, feeling
entire confidence, and had begun slowly ascending a steep
winding staircase which led through the turret exclusively
to her own apartment, when suddenly she became startled
and astonished to hear the distinct sound of footsteps coming
downwards.  Matilda paused and listened.  No one slept
near, nor could there be a possible cause conjectured why any
person should be in that direction; yet the noise of steps descending was distinctly audible, accompanied by the sound
of rustling silk.  Scarcely a single individual is entirely free
from- superstition; and though Matilda's well-poised mind
and enlightened understanding had never before yielded to
supernatural fear, yet the sudden remembrance thrilled
through her frame of Eleanor's stories connected with this
ancient staircase, in which it had been stated that during
more than two hundred years there had been the report of
sounds such as these being unaccountably heard on the spot
where she stood. For one moment a cold shudder passed
through her frame; but hastily dismissing these apprehensions, she regained her self-command, and nerved her resolution by the thought that she must act for herself, as no one
could possibly be summoned to her assistance.  Matilda now
called out as loudly as she could, to know if any one was
there; and as her voice became feeble from terror, she re.
peated her words again. The sound echoed upwards in




254                 MODERN SOCIETY,
harsh hollow tones, when instantly afterwards a noise of
whispering seemed audible above, a light gleamed there for
an instant, and the rush of footsteps followed in an opposite
direction, after which all was still.
Matilda stood transfixed to the spot with amazement and
fear, her heart ceased to beat, her limbs quivered, and she remained motionless, as if she had been turned into stone,
while listening with intense attention to catch the smallest
sound.  Her hearing seemed to be sharpened by apprehension, but she waited in vain.  Resolved at length to brave
the worst, she summoned a degree of desperate resolution,
and proceeded as rapidly as the darkness would permit towards her own room, where she intended to obtain a light.
In passing the dreary lumber-room opposite to her own, she
again saw a momentary gleam in the distance,-a slight
rustling noise called her attention to a white figure flitting
out of sight in the gloomiest recesses, and instantly afterwards a loud crash took place which startled and bewildered
her, so that, unable to hazard another glance around, she
rushed into her own room, and with a fluttering heart and
unsteady hand bolted the door.  Matilda could not but remark that it was wide open as she entered, though the housemaids invariably closed it, and that her fire bore traces of
having been- recently and violently stirred, though not a
servant on the establishment would have ventured up that
staircase after dusk; she therefore still trembled with nervous apprehension to find herself thus alone, and so coin
pletely unprotected.  All the theories of apparitions which
she had ever read or could remember, failed to compose her
agitated nerves.  She trembled at ever crack which the old
wainscot gave in her room, the rattling of the window-frame
startled her, and a mouse in the wall would have almost made
her faint.  " What poor weak creatures we are!" thought
Matilda, trying to imagine some plausible explanation of all
she had seen, and to compose her mind for the solemn duties
of the evening.  " But yesterday I should have been the first
to laugh at such a story as this, yet no human being can
foresee how he will feel or act under any circumstances, until
he is actually placed in them.'' Impatient for the first peep
of daylight, she opened the curtains, and looked out upon the
pale, cold moon; the deep shadows cut upon the grass, the
glittering stream rolling beneath her window, the massy
clouds careering along the sky, and the bright stars shining
in perpetual beauty. There is something which speaks peace




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            265
to the heart amidst a scene of such majestic stillness; and
Matilda now began in some degree to forget her alarm.  The
agitation which she had witnessed in Nanny's state of mind
during the previous night, forced itself on her thoughts, accompanied by a feeling of melancholy at remembering the
callousness with which Eleanor had treated those distressing
circumstances which followed, though she was consoled by
the hope, that her cousin's judgment had been in some degree perverted by the misrepresentations of Pauline and Mrs.
Gordon. The remembrance next succeeded, of all that Mr.
Armstrong had said,-or rather, according to his own phraseology, what he had not said; but the whole was so indefinite
and unpleasant that nothing remained on which she could
have any desire to rest her meditations, except those pleasing
words of Scripture,-which are consoling in every period of
similar perplexity —" He shall choose our. inheritance for
us."  But Matilda found it more difficult to banish from her
mind the increasing uncertainty she felt respecting Sir Alfred's conduct.  It was impossible to have any hesitation in
believing that she was an object of peculiar interest to him;
he always betrayed a consciousness of her presence; while
the most trifling remark she uttered evidently acquired importance in his eyes when she made it, for at whatever distance he might be off, it always seemed to reach him, and to
arrest his attention in preference to every one else.  His
favorite position in the room was near her, and she could not
but be aware how anxiously he had desired an opportunity
of speaking to her unobserved during the evening. Yet
when Matilda reflected that Eleanor was equally confident
of Sir Alfred's regard, she felt how prudent and desirable it
must be, under whatever circumstances, to maintain an uncertainty of that which was not yet declared.  Nothing cures
people so surely of their faults as to see the very same errors
exaggerated in the conduct or feelings of others, for we then
become conscious of their danger and deformity.  Miss
Howard, therefore, being unable to avoid the conviction of
her cousin's vain and unwarrantable expectations, found it
easier to diminish her own. Had she been addicted to
amusing self-deceptions, Matilda might even have begun to
flatter herself that the gay and lively Mr. Grant was be.
coming conscious of her charms, as there had been much in
his manner to her of late. which tended to that conclusion.
From the moment when he observed her soothing kindness
to the wretched Nanny, and her unaffected indifference to




256                 MODERN SOCIETY,
the interest which she herself excited on that occasion, he
adopted a new tone towards Matilda, full of respectful deference, while his attentions were frequent though unobtrusive; and the conversation which he addressed to her became
often so superior to his general character and style, that
during dinner that day she had been surprised and flattered
at the change. Eleanor might often have remarked, if
vanity did not lay observation to sleep, how different seemed
the manner of gentlemen in general towards her cousin from
what it was towards herself. A gay tone of easy familiarity
they all assumed in suiting themselves to her, and it appeared
often no better than the lively persiflage with which they
were willing to amuse a wayward child, whom they perfectly
understood, and whom it was their interest to humor and indulge in every capricious whim; but when Matilda entered
unobtrusively into the room, a look of interest became obvious
in the manner which they adopted towards her, and of pleasure in observing one who seemed so unconscious of attracting notice, and so indifferent to admiration. People are
usually most desirous to acquire that of.which they are uncertain, and while all felt secure of amusing Eleanor, many
had become anxious to please Matilda, whose remarkable
richness of mind, united with her graceful turn of expression,
her fertility of thought, and her tone of sensibility, gave a
charm to her society quite unrivalled. With Eleanor many
gay effusions of wit and vivacity sparkled under the influence
of excitement, but when once her spirits flagged, the game
of conversation "was up."  But Matilda, on the contrary,
had a quiet under-current of knowledge and observation
which varied the occasional vivacity of her ideas; and Mr.
Grant had been heard to declare, after sitting next her for
nearly an hour, in apparently serious discussion, that " he
did not know her equal at' a two-handed crack.'"
Unable yet to feel sufficiently composed for retiring to
rest, and finding it unusually difficult to banish from her
thoughts those subjects which perplexed while they interested her, Matilda rose to procure a book, and was surprised,
in passing the toilet-table, to observe a'letter laid conspicuously on her dressing-box. Snatching it hastily up, she examined the handwriting, which was unknown, and the direction, which was certainly for herself.  Matilda then turned
it over, to inspect the large and consequential-looking seal;
but she became startled to observe that it bore the impression
of a tortoise carrying the globe, which, being somewhat of a




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.           25I
herald, she at once recognized as the crest of Sir Colin
Fletcher.  Two monkeys, with long, tails, for supporters,
had often been the subject of wit among the Baronet's friends,
and the motto " Je Fais," was always quoted as particularly
inappropriate.  Eleanor's warning now flashed into Matilda's
memory-she had lately heard proposals spoken of as an
every-day occurrence, without apprehending any danger of
meeting with one herself; but, ignorant of the way in which
these events took place, she felt a pang of self-reproach for.
having acted entirely on her own judgment, and for having
allowed herself to believe that her cousin's prophecies were
merely in jest, when they ought at least to have produced
some caution.  Sir Colin's advanced age had prevented
Matilda from ever imagining the possibility of his marrying,
but Eleanor had recently assured her, that no multiplicity
of years could be any security. Coloring with vexation, as
these recollections crowded into her mind, Matilda's trepidation increased when she broke the seal and read as follows:
" DEAR MADAMr,
"' Many letters begin with the use of a possessive pronoun,
which is wanting here, seeing that I am not yet entitled to
use it towards you; but the very great encouragement with
which I have lately been honored, entitles me to believe
that before long I shall have acquired the privilege of doing
so. My friend, Sir Jonathan Fowler, who is one of the
cleverest people to be met with in society, and tells a story
better than any man I know —with a single exception-for
no rule is without one-indeed, I believe the present company
is always excepted, and I trust in this instance will be Accepted
too, which is a bown mot of which you may not discover the merit
till my letter is finished-My friend, Sir Jonathan, I say,
who had a story for every occasion, or who made an occasion
for every story, as few people had a better art of introducing them, or told one better when he set about it-I have
actually seen him entertain a circle from breakfast-time till
dinner, without stopping to take breath, when he could find
an audience. which is not easy in these talkative times, as
people have all got into an unpleasant habit of holding forth
incessantly themselves, especially young ladies, which I particularly disapprove of, being still of the old, exploded opinion, that they should be seen and not heard.  Even my
own narratives are not listened to as they used to be in former days, which is perfectly unaccountable, since I now




253 8               MODERN SOCIE'TY,
relate them with much lmore accuracy than formerly. when
many essential preliminaries were carelessly slurred overas Mr. Grant does, who tells a story-worse than any man I
know —he has such a trick of dashing out the point at once,
and setting people in a roar of laughter, without keeping
them a moment in suspense.  I really wonder that Mr. Grant
receives so much attention in company, when others, greatly
his superiors, scarcely obtain common civility.  This very
circumstance, however, has made me desirous to secure the
constant society of one who has penetration and taste to understand good conversation, and discretion also to abstain from
monopolizing too large a share of it herself, which is an undoubted proof of the soundest good sense.  Therefore, to
make a long story short-a practice by no means to be
recommended in general-let me ask a plain question,
though, by the way, we are losing sight of my friend, Sir
Jonathan's story, which nevertheless; you can have ample
leisure, to enjoy hereafter, as we shall probably be much
together, and I prefer telling a story to writing it, because
of the pleasure it affords me to watch your increasing anxiety during the progress, and the animated satisfaction with
which you at last reach the conclusion.  Few people are
more conmpetent to appreciate your fascinations than myself,
having always kept the best cook that France could produce,
and entertained personages of the highest rank and distinction at my table, besidies having travelled in Sweden, Spain,
America, and the Orkneys; yet I never saw any young lady
more highly gifted, and with whom I would prefer to spend
the rest of my life.  Hoping and believing that this good
opinion is reciprocal, and that you are desirous, like myself,
of an agreeable companion during our joint lives, I shall willingly take you for better or for worse; and should no answer reach me before breakfast to-morrow, I shall consider
the whole affair to be favorably arranged, which will save you
the trouble of a reply, and enable me to write, without delay,
to Sir Francis, as well as to announce the joyful event instantly to our mutual friends here. Meantime, I am always
and entirely yours,
a C(OLIN FLETCHER."
Matilda read over this strange farrago of nonsense several
times, with renewed astonishment and confusion. Her mind
had been agitated and bewildered by the previous events of
that evening, so that she now felt perfectly incompetent




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.             259
to fix her thoughts with deliberation on anything; but Sir
C(olin's style of writing was so complete a specimen of his
conversation, that on each revisal of his letter she felt as if
he was speaking to her, and could not resist laughing, in the
midst of all her annoyance, at the perfect certainty with
which lie evidently anticipated an acceptance.  The first
idea of its being possible for Sir Colin to marry, had been
broached in her presence some days before by Miss Charlotte Clifford, who never received the most accidental notice
from any gentleman without at once coming to a conclusion
as to his suitableness for herself; and she had remarked, in
allusion to Sir Colin, that it would be much more tolerable
to marry a really old man than one who was merely middleaged; after which she had proceeded to deliver an elaborate
panegyric on his house, which she had once seen. on his pictures, his furniture, his china, catlery and dazamsk, ending the
whole by observing  " And as for the man himself, he really
is passable enough."  It had been then very evident that
Miss Charlotte would have required no long time to deliberate bef6re accepting an offer which so greatly shocked and
annoyed Matilda, whose most prominent desire at the moment was that neither Eleanor nor Mr. Grant should ever
know  it had taken place.  Alarmed at the threat which
was contained in Sir Colin's concluding paragraph, that
the whole affair should be divulged without delay, she instantly sat down to compose a polite and peremptory refusal.  Matilda began with expressing her conviction that
if he had a little longer delayed the declaration of his
sentiments, Sir Colin must have discovered that the qualities lie had supposed her to possess, which.might render her
a suitable companion, were entirely the result of his own
imagination; which conviction might have prevented his
feeling any regret on being assured that no circumstance
could ever render it possible for her to accept his addresses.
WVith many expressions of regret that her own inconsiderate
conduct should have unintentionally appeared like an encouragement of his prieference, and with sincere good wishes
for his future happiness, though she was not herself capable
of contributing to it, Matilda then hastily concluded, and
folded up her important despatch.
Daylight had dawned before this " heavy task " was done;
and, happy that her adventures for the night appeared at
last to be terminated, she felt so utterly exhausted by the
complicated feelings which had successively assailed her




260                 MODERN SOCIETY,
that she instantly retired and fell into a broken and agitated slumber.
The first sound which awoke Matilda next morning, was
the gong giving notice that it wanted but half an hour to
breakfast; and being accustomed to employ more than
double that time in her morning duties, she hastily arose,
and hurried through her toilet, having first rung for a housemaid, to whom she intrusted the care of instantly conveying
her letter to Sir Colin's valet. adding the most urgent instructions for its being delivered without delay. Matilda hastened down with all possible despatch to breakfast, where
the whole party was already assembled in its usual state of
joyous excitement.  No place remained vacant, except a
chair between Sir Alfred Douglas and Sir Colin, of which
she reluctantly took possession, feeling the more unwilling
to place, herself there, because it was precisely opposite to
Eleanor and Mr. Grant, whose satirical eyes were instantly
fixed on her, with looks of sparkling animation and humor,
after which they exchanged a momentary glance of intelligence, as Matilda took her seat, and broke off a conference
in which they had been previously engaged, and which was
so suddenly terminated on her entrance that she could not
but feel a vague apprehension of having been its object.
" The late Miss Howard!" said Eleanor, reproachfully.
"' Has anything extraordinary occurred to detain you so long?
We were afraid you had eloped this morning; and Sir Colin,
too, has only this minute appeared."
Matilda's countenance instantly assumed its deepest hue of
pink, and she tried to avoid further notice, by making no reply.
"You were probably writing letters," observed Mr. Grant.
" That is a favorite excuse with ladies."
" I envy your correspondent, Miss Howard," said Major
Foley.
"Ah! perhaps, poor fellow! he may be more deserving
of pity," sighed Mr. Grant, sentimentally.
c" You should not leap at conclusions!" cried Eleanor,
with marked emphasis.  "But I really wonder that Mr.
Grant is ever listened to, when others, greatly his superiors,
can scarcely obtain the slightest attention."
Matilda started when she recognized these well-known
words, and again her color rose to crimson; but she remained silent while suffering from a feeling of embarrass.
ment greater than she had ever known before. A pause ensued, which appeared endless, while she was conscious that




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            261
Eleanor's laughing eyes were maliciously bent on her with
a look which she dared not venture to encounter.  The case
seemed desperate, for an alarming conjecture flashed into her
mind, that Sir Colin's letter, and her own, had been seen in
some way by her cousin, and she wondered he did not already feel conscious of these allusions to them; but, on the
contrary, Matilda saw, with increasing surprise, that her
self-satisfied admirer was composedly' stirring his tea, and
scarcely attending to what passed.
" You seem all to be spell-bound, like the seven sleepers!"
exclaimed Eleanor, delighted with the sensation she had occasioned.  " The first who speaks dies! Matilda, do you
know the game of' What is my thought like?' Pray favor
us with yours!"
Before Miss Howard could reply, she was surprised to
find a new direction given to the conversation, by Sir Alfred,
who rarely addressed any except the person next him, and
that generally in an undertone, but who now broke forth in
a voice which attracted general notice.
"There is a purpose of marriage between Henry Douglas,
commonly called Marquis of Dumbartonshire, and Lady
Emilia Arundell! If any one here present knows any just
cause or impediment   "
"Nonsense!" interrupted Eleanor, eagerly.  "You must
be quizzing, Sir Alfred! I never saw you indulge us with
a bit of gossip before!"
" That cuts you out of a very good thing, Douglas!" said
Mr. Grant, laughing.'a While your Most Noble cousin was
cruising in his yatch, many a sleepless night you must have
enjoyed, thinking how easily a single blast in the Bay of
Biscay might make you a marquis! I should have rehearsed
my maiden speech for the House of Lords pretty frequently
before now, in your place."
"I know it cannot be true," said Lady Susan; "because
Lady Emilia told me, last time we talked of him, that he
looked like a monkey just escaped from his chains; and
when I said that most people thought him rather fascinating,
she replied that he might do, then, for most people, but not
for her.  It is certainly some mistake!"
" If his own hand and seal can give authenticity to the
report, my intelligence is credible, but signatures are sometimes taken great liberties with, Miss Fitz-Patrick.  My
cousin was quite as decided in his denial of the marriage to
me ten days ago; but not from any apprehension of an im




202                 MODERN SOCIETY,
pediment on the lady's part, as Dumbartonshire often de.
clared that he would be accepted by any girl in London, if
he merely wrote her a note."
4" How I admire modest merit! But let me tell you, Sir
Alfred, there are instances recently on record, where gentlemen equally confident of success, have been told that' no
circumstances can ever render it possible for their addresses
to be acceptable!' )
Matilda stole an alarmed look towards Sir Colin, hoping
to bespeak Eleanor's forbearance on his account, if not on
her own  but she was astonished to perceive him insinuating
his butter-toast into his mouth with perfect nonchalance.
" How well he carries it off!' thought she.  "What would
I not give for the same enviable command of countenance."
"I am much entertained," continued Eleanor, in a tone
of pique, "at Lord Dumbartonshire's assurance!  I know
nothing of London yet, but his note would have been protested in Scotland often; I can answer for that!"
" Gentlemen must speak in this confident tone to each
other," observed Major Foley, bowing; "but it is a mere
flourish of trumpets to cover their retreat, as we all know
that, nine times out of ten, they are refused."
"Yes! of course," added Eleanor, laughing.  "I have
always fancied, Sir Alfred, that you were born to sing through
life the gay old song: —'I care for nobody,
And nobody cares for me.'"
" That remains to be proved," replied he, in a low tone,
which seemed only meant to reach Matilda, who instinctively
colored when he looked at her; but Eleanor's ready ear at
the same time caught the tone of manly feeling in which
these few words were spoken, and she dropt her eyes, with
an air of gratified vanity.
" Douglas!" cried Mr. Grant, " positively this morning [
begin not to despair of seeing you, some rainy day, what I
have always ardently wished,' desperately and hopelessly in
love!"'
"Thank you! there is no saying what we may all come
to at last; for I think," said Sir Alfrel, still contemplating
his letters, " some bridegroom has gone mad, and bit atl my
acquaintances."
"Pray indulge us with your budget!" exclaimed Miss
Charlotte, eagerly.  "My whole crop of London v:,rres



or TiHE MARCH OF INTELLECT.           263
pondents has failed this year, like Sir Richard's turnip-field,
and I am most wretchedly in the dark about what goes on
in the matrimonial world."
" You should apply to the clerk of St. George's, Hanover
Square," answered Sir Alfred.  "He is better informed than
most people on these subjects."
" Present company Excepted!" interrupted Eleanor, with,
an intelligent eye on Matilda.  " And I trust they may be
Accepted also, which is a bon vmot of which you cannot yet per
ceive the merit."
" That puts me in mind of a case in point," began Sir Co
lin, deliberately.  "'My friend    "
" Sir Jonathan Fowler!" interrupted Mr. Grant.  " He
is one of the cleverest men on earth! Did you meet him,
Fletcher, during your residence in Sweden, or the Orkneys."
" I never visited either of these places, and am much too
comfortable at home to think of travelling now."
" Or of changing your situation in any way?"
"Why, there's no saying!" answered Sir Colin, with an
encouraging nod  to Matilda.  " Marriage is a lottery,
and      -"
"' You and I have always drawn blanks as yet, Fletcher!n
added Mr. Grant, in a condoling voice.  "We have both
been very ill used by the ladies."
" Speak for yourself!" replied Sir Colin, indignantly. " I
never yet put it in any lady's power to refuse me, so I must
not complain of their cruelty."
"What an inexorable bachelor you are, Fletcher'!" exclaimed Sir Richard, laughing.
Matilda's eyes were gradually opened, during the progress
of this dialogue, and she plainly perceived that Eleaner had
taken advantage of her being so completely unsophisticated
in society to impose upon her credulity with a counterfeit
letter.  From the moment that an idea of' such a thing being
possible dawned upon her mind, the whole became so obvious
that she wondered at her own stupidity in not detecting the
imposture at once; but she had never before heard of such
a trick being played, and the borrowing of any person's seal
and signature was rather beyond the limits of what she
would have considered a legitimate hoax. But still she
could not help being amused at the ingenuity with which it
had been done; and feeling almost as if she deserved to
suffer for not having detected the conspiracy, During an




204                 MODERN SOCIETY,
Hclat de'ire, occasioned by a lively sally of Mr. Grant's. Sir
Alfred said to her, in an undertone, " Miss Howard, you
will easily believe that I had no share in this legerdemain
of your cousin's, but it will be an incessant annoyance till
the jest is worn threadbare, unless you brave it out boldly."
Matilda gave Sir Alfred a grateful smile for his timely
hint; and as the opposite party still levelled all their strokes
of humor at her, she resolved to show him that it was not
thrown away.
"Mr Grant," said she, in her usual animated tone, " you
should have got'my epistle franked last night, instead
of ruining me in postage! Unluckily this morning I omitted to put the answer under your cover  but fortunately it
seems to have reached the proper destination; and, though' private and confidential' was not marked on the outsideyou must have perceived that it ought to have been.  I
therefore appeal fronom Mr. Grant in a laughing. mood to
Mr. Grant in a serious one, whether it would be quite right
to make my blunder more public, or to let it reach the person who is chiefly injured by this inadvertence of mine."
The gentleman thus addressed lield up his plate, in imitation of a fan, assuming at the same timne a comical expression of dismay. while his accomplices covered their faces
with their handkerchiefs, and burst into a peal of laughter.
": Well! in my whole life I never saew people so easily
amnused," observed Sir Colin, with a bewildered look; "that
seems to me a very sensible remark of Miss Howard's.  I
have known very unpleasant blunders made about letters
often, and could relate several remarkable instances of the
kind. You may laugh, Grant,.being not much a man of letters yourself, but — "
"Capital, Sir Colin! —capital!" echoed the whole party,
glad of an excuse to indulge their irresistible inclination to
laugh, and feeling confident that he would be surprised at
no excess of risibility after a jest of his own.
" I envy you that brilliant sally, Fletcher!" said Mr.
Grant, recovering his gravity; "it is new and original!
Pray, allow me the use of it for a week or two-I shall sport
the man of letters on the hustings to-morrow, and establish my
reputation as a wit on the spot."
" The story I was about to relate," continued the Baronet, in his usual persevering tone, " is very remarkable, and
not at all generally known —— "
"Ah, Sir Colin!" interrupted Eleanor, " we all consider




t)R THE 5MARCH OF INTELLECT.           265
o7u a perfect Arabian Knigt.  Everybody allows you to be
g/ie $greatest story-teller living."
I  shall trace its origin," continued he, "to show how authentic the particulars are; but they must only be mentioned
among friends, so let me beg these circumstances may go no
larther."
" We are all quite upon honor,"  replied  Mr. Grant
gravely, "and if you will believe me, Fletcher, I never do,
by any chance, repeat a story of yours. At the same time,
it does appear unlucky that no one has ever yet acted Boswell to your Johnson.  What an incredible loss it would be
to the world if we finally lost all record of the innumerable'laughable circumstances, remarkable incidents and authentic facts,' with which the lumber-room of-your memory is
stored!"
" Very true; and it seenms astonishing to me how authors
contrive to get so much leisure," replied the Baronet, in a
tone of superiority; " for my own part, I have sometimes intended to write such a book as Boswell's Johnson, but the
only difficulty is to find tinEe."
"'Only fancy!' The Diary and Recollections of Sir
Colin Fletcher!"' said Eleanor, laughing.
" Edited by his disconsolate widow!" added Mr. Grant,
with a sly look at Matilda. " That is the fashion now, Sir
Colin.  You must marry, and then we shall have the gratification of knowing, that a month after your decease, Lady
Fletcher will be seated at her writing-desk, in deep mourning, correcting the press, with a pen in one hand, and a
pocket-handkerchief in the other."
"'What'a remarkably good hand you write, 5Miatilda i" observed Eleanor, looking archly at her cousin, as they rose
to leave the breakfast-room.'" I took a copy of your letter
this morning, that it may be ready for the next baronet who
presumes like Sir Colin."
"' Notice, to all whom it may concern," said Sir Richard,
"what is all this nonsense you are talking to-day, Eleanor?"
" Only that your niece has refused a certain gentleman,
with the most barbarous cruelty! I wonder how you could
be so hard-hearted, Matilda, for it really is not in my nature,
and if Sir Colin had only proposed to me —— "
" Eleanor, this subject does not admit of discussion. My
foolish credulity has brought his name into circumstances
where he never would have placed it himself, and let me entreat that, the mistake may now be forgotten.  You have12




ov6 MokDRN SOCIETY,
had quite as good a laugh as the joke deserves, and you owe
me a little forbearance, after all my sufferings last night.
A proposal and an apparition, both in one afternoon, form
an accumulation of horrors more than any ordinary brain
could have stood, and I really do not promise to survive such
another night."
"An apparition!!" exclaimed Eleanor, wibth breathless
eagerness, " what can you mean! tell me about it instantly!
I know nothing of this! Sir Alfred, pray close the shutters,
that we may enjoy it in perfection."
Matilda now gave an animated and amusing sketch of her
midnight progress from Miss Fitz-Patrick's room to her own,
embellished with a retrospect of the traditions with which
Eleanor had prepared her mind to be superstitious; and she
ended by candidly acknowledging the nervous fears which
had at last so nearly got the better of her.
"' And after all!" said Eleanor, in a tone of disappointment, "it was only Pauline, who stupidly lost her way, after
depositing the letter.  She had been charged, on pain of
death, not to let you see her.  How provoking! that a commencement which might have done for Mrs. Radcliffe ends
in so paltry a manner.  By the way, I am surprised that it
never occurred to me till this instant, that we might attempt
a ghost upon you, Matilda.  It might be admirably got up
in the old lumber-rooml."
"Pray never try so dangerous an experiment on any one,
Eleanor! The result has sometimes been worse than death,
and entailed endless regret on those who attempted it.  I
could not be answerable for my own nerves, because there
is a degree of latent superstition in every mind, which may
be excited by circumstances."'I G make no rash promises!" answered Eleanor, with a
mischievous laugh.
"Miss Fitz-Patrick!" said Sir Alfred, " if I thought that
we were liable to such terrifying visitations as has been described, nothing should induce me to remain here after dusk;
and I must obtain a solemnn assurance that no one more sm,
rernataral t/haw yo,wrself shall be exhibited while I remain,
or we must take advantage of what little daylight is remaining to hasten homewards.  I amn particularly afraid of
ghosts!"
There was a humorous expression in the dark eye of Sir
Alfred when he made this assertion, which showed Matilda
that what he said was on her aceount, and she felt gratiied




OR THE MAItHOI  OF INTELLEECT.        267
at the unobtrusive attention M ith which he seemed constantly
on the watch to assist her in the many little embarrassments
which she frequently encountered.' If I abstain from an apparition, then, Sir Alfred," asked
Eleanor, "will you escort us this morning to the Fairy
Bridge. It is well worth seeing, on account of its extraordinary beauty, being the highest single arch in Scotland."' Indeed!" replied Sir Alfred, sitting down to write a letter. "' I shall try to recollect the loftiest arch I ever saw,
and add a foot or two."
"But you have not heard the most important part of
my story,' continued Eleanor. " Thomas the Rhymer once
prophesied that any gentleman who ventures to throw himself over, shall find below the richest and most beautiful
young lady in the world, glittering with jewels."
"V What temptation could there be to take such a leap,
while you remain at the top?2 replied he, continuing to write;
" Unless we go over hand in hand, I could have no security
for the prophecy being fulfilled." Eleanor gave a triumphant glance at Matilda, as if to ask whether a doubt could
remain on her mind of Sir Alfred's partiality.
" Now, Sir Alfred! do bestir yourself and come while the
morning is so bright. We shall offer you a carte blanche as
to terms-a cigar and the privelege of total silence-my
footman to carry a camp-stool, and I intend to hand you over
the stiles myself."'
" Thank you," replied Sir Alfred, continuing to write;
"I am like the Frenchman who said when he reached the
summit of a misty hill,' AimVez vows le beautes de la nature?
poUr moi, je les abhorre!' As far as the eye can reach, from
this window, I am ready to admire anything you please; but
unless this ottoman could be metamorphosed into a palanquin, I do not mean to leave it, till the world is better aired.
Pray take my good wishes along with you, however."
" As much as to say, What a happy riddance you all are!"
said Eleanor, retreating towards the door.
" Not all," replied Sir Alfred, looking for a moment at
Matilda, but Eleanor heard only the tone of sensibility in
which this ambiguous sentence was uttered: and turning to
her cousin, as they crossed the staircase together, she said,
" Now, Matilda, can you doubt his sentiments any longer?
Did you observe what Sir Alfred said about leaping over the
bridge?-That was very decided."
" But, Eleanor, his rallying tone evidently showed that it




MODERN SOCIETY,
was merely in jest!-I shall never again volunteer my
opinion upon this subject; but when you ask it now, let me
assure you of my candid and conscientious belief, that his
sentiments are entirely misunderstood."
" There are none so blind as those who will not see! You
were always very obstinate, Matilda, but I shall convince you
some day, and that will be one of my greatest pleasures, when
Sir Alfred declares himself.  How delightfully odd and eccentric he is!-but I cannot make up my mind whether he
would suit me or not."
" Then try, if possible, to think that he would not!" said
Matilda, earnestly.'"My dear Eleanor, I appeal to your
own knowledge of me, whether I would deceive you, or prefer my interest to yours, if both were at stake; but it would
be unlike our former friendship, not to tell you fairly my
real opinion, that in appearing to prefer Sir Alfred to Mr.
Grant, you are mistaking your happiness, as well as your
real feelings."




ORP, THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            269
CHAPTER XVIII.
What spirits were theirs, what wit, and what whim,
Now breaking a jest, and now breaking a limbNow wrangling and grumbling, to keep up the ballNow teasing and vexing, yet laughing at all!
GOLDSMITH.
DURING their walk to the Fairy Glen, Eleanor contrived
that her cousin should again fall a victim to the prosing propensities of Sir Colin, while she proceeded at some distance
herself, with a numerous train of attendants.  Matilda had
little notice to spare for any one, as her thoughts were pleasingly engrossed with tracing the almost imperceptible attentions by which Sir Alfred contrived to testify how continually
she occupied his mind. It filled her with surprise, at the
same time, to consider how greatly he seemed embarrassed
after any unusual exhibition of his feelings towards herself,
and how instantly he became reserved when there was a
chance of his being remarked.  "What can it all mean?"
was the question which forced itself upon her thoughts in a
thousand different shapes, as she proceeded along the path
in deep, though agreeable meditation.
iMeantime, Sir Colin's voice flowed on in an uninterrupted
stream, while, a propos to an accidental remark on the extreme coldness of the day, he gave Matilda an elaborate description of all the greatcoats he had used during many successive winters; and by the time they were nearly worn out, the
subject happily diverged into a dissertation- on coughs and
colds. when the Baronet treated her to an account of a violent
rheumatism which he had very nearly caugh,'/t, about twenty
years before, owing to a window having been left open at
night, though he fortunately discovered the mistake in time
to have it closed before retiring to bed.
Sir Colin was charmed with the silent interest which Matilda manifested in the dangers he had passed. Her large,
bright eyes were intently fixed on him, and he was not aware
that their usual intelligent expression was wanting, for whenever he appealed to her, and asked whether what he related




270                 MODERN SOCIETY,
was not " wonderful, fortunate, or remarkable," she almost
unconsciously echoed his words, with a preliminary adjective,
giving additional emphasis to his expression.  Matilda had
on no previous occasion thus completely lost the command
of her attention, but Sir Colin was filled with admiration of
her good sense. He had never before met with so judicious
a young lady! so conversable! so companionable! so easily
amused, and so highly intelligent!  " How superior to her
cousin!" thought he, " whose flippant manner spoils conversation entirely! If Miss Howard continues to play her cards
as well, there is no saying what may be the consequences!
She knows what she is about!"
But Matilda was very far from " knowing what she was
about."  The varied scenery of her extensive walk was, for
the first time, unmarked by her eye, the impediments in her
path were now mechanically surmounted, and the incessant
hum of Sir Colin's voice became only obvious to her senses
when he paused for a reply, while she rapidly traced over
her whole intercourse with Sir Alfred.-The peculiar interest
he had testified on their first meeting at Barnard Castle,the deep attention he paid to all she said,-the assistance
and protection he was constantly on the alert to afford her
in Eleanor's society, and the ambiguous expressions, either
of love or of friendship, which he had long taken every opportunity of addressing Ito her.  There was lately even a
tone of diffidence in his manner of speaking to her, far different from his aspect of cold indifference to others, which
rendered the contrast only stronger; and as this change occurred to the remembrance of Matilda, her color became
brighter, and she walked with a more elastic step than before.  " But Eleanor has observed nothing of all this!"
thought she, with a sudden revulsion of feeling; "and whi
is so observant as she is, if there had been any truth in all I
have fancied! No! I will not plunge myself into the dark
abyss of disappointed affection and unavailing regret, by allowing vanity, even for this one hour, to deceive me. The
customs of society warrant all the attention Sir Alfred has
yet shown ine, and I must not imitate Eleanor in misconstruing his meaning."
Matilda's reveries were interrupted by the party in advance suddenly coming to a dead pause, and she was instaitly restored to the consciousness of Sir Colin's presence,
by hearing him conclude his long oration with a remark
which was intended to be quite new and original.




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.             271
" So, you see, Miss Howard, nothing can be more dangerous than a draught of air"
e" What is it that gives a cold, cures a cold, and pays the
doctor?" asked Mr. Grant, wheeling suddenly round. "~ Do
you give it up, Fletcher? —a draft!"
"As for curing a cold," began Sir Colin, deliberately
"there's nothing equal to —--' Leaping over a three pair of stairs' window! That is
what I always recommend to my friends, for it saves such a
fortune in lozenges."
" Now, good people 1 here is the cottage of old Janet, which
I brought you to admire," cried Eleanor, rounding an angle
in the glen, and displaying, with evident exultation, a scene
which nature and art seemed to rival each other in embellishing.  The sunbeams played gaily through the inmost
depths of a lovely valley, and streamed along the bright
edges of every tree and bramble, which glittered with the
silver whiteness of a clear hard fost.  The distant mountains were covered with patches of snow, varied by the dark
face of many a rough gigantic precipice.  The river danced
merrily along over a bed of granite, and after rushing and
tumbling through massy blocks of stone, it suddenly. shot
over the highest pinnacle of the rock, and fell in one vast
arch of foam into the dark and fathomless basin beneath.
Contrasted with the bolder features of this gorgeous landscape stood Gowanbank, a lovely rustic cottage, which seemed
formed to become the abode of peace and contentment. It
crowned a sloping bank, which rose from the margin of the
stream; a little white paling surrounded the garden, which
was fancifully planted with groups of evergreens, the varnished and sombre leaves of which were tipped with golden
light, and edged with fringes of snow.  Every bough, and
every rock, was hung with wreaths of sparkling icicles, which
were illuminated by a thousand prismatic hues, rivalling the
tints of a rainbow; and the deep overhanging roof of the
cottage had so sheltered the southern wall, that it still
bloomed with the scarlet blossoms of the pyrus japonica.
"' Now for a sonnet. or a fugitive piece of some kind, Mr.
Grant!" said Eleanor; "you ought to be an eloquent improvisatore, having resided so much in Italy!'
"Indeed, Miss Fitz-Patrick, I possess the finest poetical
vein in the worldl! It has but one little defect, that the
moment feelings shouldl be put into words, the whole evaporates! I have a thousand times seized a sheet of paper, feel



22 7 2MODERN SOrIETY,
ing precisely like Byron or Moore, but invariably, after writ
ing a large emphatic Ou! at the top of a page, I have been
obliged to desist."
"How very unlucky! for I was planning what a good
amusement it would be, if our large party were to set about
writing a Christmas Annual. You must each send a contribution, and I shall sit for the frontispiece myself. Sir
Colin's story must be limited to twenty pages; Mr. Grant
may throw in a few comic sketches; and Major Foley shall
court the muses."
c "I can be at no loss for a subject," said he, with a gratified
bow.
" That is precisely what I intended you to say! Captain
M'Tartan must toss up some good shipwrecks for us, and be
sure to invent a splendid storim."
"c If a leaf of my log-book can be of any service, you are
welcome; but otherwise, I never speak of the ship upon shore,
and would rather wave the subject.  Besides I may perhaps
publish a volume myself, to be called' Dulse and Tangle, or
Yarns at Sea,' dedicated to the first Lord of the Admiralty,
whoever that may be."
C' Colonel Pendarvis! we shall accept any of your adventures which have not already enlivened the United Service
Journal.  By the way, I must make an exception of your
trip to Calcutta, because nothing new can ever said be about
India.  My receipt for a book upon that subject would describe them  all. Begin with a tiger-hunt, then follows a
suttee; a visit to a rajah, two or three serpents, plenty of
currie, and an escape from an alligator."
"' One might quite as generally characterire all descriptions of savage countries, which are invariable repetitions of
the same thing," said Mr. Grant.  "Whether the subject be
New Zealand, Polynesia, Greenland, the South Pole, or the
North, you may bind the-m  up in alternate pages without
being found out. Describe the universal outcry for glass
beads and knives, the filthiness of the natives, their thievisb
propensities, their wonder at first seeing a ship, some detestable particulars of the food they eat, and a great deal about
the author's gentlemanlike horror at observing them  use
their fingers, as if these poor creatures ought to starve until
they had silver forks-aud the whole is wound up with a
tremendous picture of cruelty, depravity, vice, and superstition."
" There is but one use in ~reading such representationas




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.           297
said Matilda, coloring, for she felt it an effort to say any.
thing out of keeping with the general tone of the conversation.  "They render us more anxious to encourage those
who visit distant lands, and encounter all that misery, in
order to substitute knowledge for ignorance, virtue for vice,
and the light of Christian hope for the darkness of vain superstition. It is a noble endeavor, and should be nobly
encouraged."
" Now for a subscription book!!'" cried Eleanor, satiri
cally. " I like the new fashion of penny collectors best.
This is not the first time, I assure you all, that my cousin
has been reduced to beggary; for she attacked me two days
ago to assist in making out a trousseau for the daughter of
that old woman who lives at Gowanbank, and who was married, I believe, this morning. Her sister Nanny may supply
Martha with ornaments, for I am sure she has taken plenty
of mine!"
" You are not sure, Eleanor," whispered Matilda, indignantly. " No one can be sure; and till it is proved we have
no right to say so. They are in great distress," added she,
with emotion.
" Ah! that is her best apology," said the heiress; 1" she
was very pretty, and very poor; so it was, as Mrs. Gordon
said, a great temptation."
" I did not allude to her poverty, Eleanor! she is poor,
but I could be answerable for Nanny's honesty, as well as
for her mother's; and they yet hope to see these calumnies
refuted. With respect to pecuniary difficulties, they have
nothing now to complain of, for old Janet told Dr. Murray
that a gentleman from Barnard Castle, who accidentally
heard their story, called yesterday on horseback, and after
remaining there some time, left a very liberal donation,
which will enable Martha and William to begin the world
in some comfort."
" Now! who could that be?-from Barnard Castle, did
you say? A charitable incognito! how very romantic!Mr. Grant do not assume that look of amiable consciousness, for I never even suspected you!-Colonel Pendarvis?
no!-Major Foley? impossible! —Ah! Sir Colin! you are
precisely the sort of person to do good by stealth, and' blush to find it fame.' "
" I have not gone near a cottage for seven years, except
to light my cigar, Miss Fitz-Patrick! but there was a
12*




7~4'MODERN SO0CIETY,
curious incident that occurred to me in the village of
Nettleton, which may enliven us while we stand here-  "'Stop, Sir Colin! we must investigate Matilda's story
before you gain a hearing. One at a time, gentlemen, if
you please, as the countryman said to a quack doctor,
when he and his donkey both brayed at once."
"Miss Fitz-Patrick! you have rather spoilt that circumstance; it was-"
"How dare you say so, Sir Colin — Tell me that I have
improved or invented a story, and still hope to be forgiven;
but to hint that I can possibly spoil one is an unpardonable
affront. I shall not listen to a word you say for three
weeks, so now consider yourself in Coventry."
"Eleanor," whispered Matilda, slipping her arm  into
Miss Fitz-Patrick's, and drawing her aside-"dear Eleanor i! your laughter at this moment goes to my very heart;
for it would be difficult to conceive the state of heart-breaking grief in which that poor old woman has lately been'weeping beside her once cheerful fireside.  Give the subject
a moment's serious thought.  I cannot be so near without
stealing over for an instant to inquire about Janet. There
is a confused report that something very distressing occurred
at their wedding to-day, but I cannot understand what it
was, for the ceremony was to take place at Dr. Murray's,
where neither Nanny nor her mother intended to be present; and the young couple went immediately afterwards to
the village of Clanpibroch. I shall never be missed by the
party here; but let me take a kind and compassionate message from  you, Eleanor, to cheer their hearts, for they
greatly-need it. Miay:I say that your judgment of Nanny
shall be-suspended till a fair, candid, and open investigation
is made into her conduct? for.that is what'Dr. Murray
promises to bring about without delay, and: to which he says
you consented."
"Did I:2  The less done in that way: the better for Nanny~, I suspect! but she has -completely hoodwinked that
good excellent man, by her plausible stories; and we must
really get him to hear the truth from Mrs. Gordon and
Pauline."
"Eleanor!" said Matilda, taking her hand, while the
tears gathered in her eyes,: you were not always so reckless
of other people's misery as now! I remember the time
when weswept together, because Nanny was thought to be
dying, and our dear aunt Olivia could scarcely console us.




Olt THE MARCH Olt INTELLECT.
It would have been better for that poor girl to have been
cut off then, if her future years are to be darkened by disgrace and misery."
Matilda spoke with all the eloquence of intense feeling;
and she had touched the right cord at last.  Few people
whose hearts are recently hardened by worldly prosperity
can recall the tender emotions of their own childhood without sentiments of regret, and without having their benumbed
feelings softened for a moment by observing the contrast of
former and present character.
"Matilda, you are right! I begin to fear that my conduct has been rash and hasty in this business.  Poor Nanny! everything most precious in life to her is at stake.  She
certainly was a good, excellent creature long ago.  I dare
not think of it all at present though.  I see it now, as I
ought to have done from  the first.  She may possibly be
innocent, and then indeed I have been criminally careless.
All! Matilda, you are always the same, and if our dear aunt
could look back, she would see you unchanged, but oh, what
would she think of me?"  Eleanor walked rapidly on for Ia
few steps, and seemed scarcely able to refrain from bursting
into tears.  "These thoughts sometimes shoot across my
mind, Matilda, but I dare not let them  remain.  Do what
you like for poor Nanny; take all the responsibility from
me if you can.  Bring her back to Barnard Castle when you
like, and tell her we shall thoroughly and heartily investigate the whole affair.  Miserable as it would make me in
one respect to find her innocent, I shall most truly rejoice
at it, and do all that money can do-which is not a littleto make up for what she has suffered."
"' Thank you, dear Eleanor,-a thousand thanks," answered Matilda, accompanying  her cousin, who hastily
rejoined the party, as if afraid to trust herself longer on
the subject, which had evidently affected her more than she
wished to acknowledge.  A  moment' afterwards she was
talking in her usual tone of careless vivacity.
"Mr. Grant, I see you are trying to imitate the Irish
beggar we met last night; but, as papa's valet said, when
he saw the eclipse of the sun,'it is quite a failure, sir;'
even with all my love of giving alms, you would never beguile me of a single sous."
" Allow me to differ from the last speaker I I could bet
any sum on being able to maintain myself for a month, with




no other resource than the credulity of a benevolent piille.
What do you say, Miss Howard?"
"Your tone is much too whining and professional.  I.
have an instinctive perception  of impostors, and could
almost pledge myself to detect one anywhere. The Irishman, for instance, whom you describe, seems to be half
knave and half fool, but I should certainly not like to meet
s.uch a fortune-hunter on the road when I was alone, for if
ever he got anything from me it would be fear rather than
charity that extorted it."
" Ah! Matilda is easily moved, and not a bit wiser than
other people," said Eleanor, laughing; "you would have
parted with half-a-crown, as I did yesterday, if you had seen
poor Paddy-though I am certain it went straight to the alehouse, or assisted to buy lemons for his fillet of veal."
" If I had thought so, neither force nor fraud should have
got a shilling out of me," replied Matilda, smiling, while she
gradually slackened her pace, and dropt behind the other
pedestrians. At length, having caught a favorable opportu.
nity, she left them entirely, and hastened over a rustic bridge
which led to the cottage.




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT,              277
CHAPTER XIX.
"'The bursting heart, the teaflesa eye,
The cold and torpid frame,
The smothered gioan, the broken sigh,
The grief she dare not name."
WHEN Matilda swung open a little white gate, which led
through the garden to Gowanbank, and saw the whole land.
scape brilliantly lighted up with a sheet of sunshine, she remembered her first visits there in autumn, when the placid
old woman always met her with a smiling welcome at the
door, and Martha used to suspend her labors, with many ex.
pressions of pleasure and gratitude for the kindness she
showed them  in coming.  Often formerly had Matilda lin.
gered on that threshold, to breathe the fragrant air, as it
wafted the perfume of various flowers which then profusely
decorated the little enclosure; but the wind had passed over
them, and they were gone as though they had never been,
while thus it was also with the peace and cheerfulness which
once reigned within those walls.
Sad as were Matilda's anticipations of the scene which
awaited her in the cottage, she was far from being prepared
for the sight of such utter desolation as that which caught
her eye when she entered. Old Janet was alone, seated
upon a low stool, with her face buried in her hands, and
bowed down almost to her knees, the very image of feebleness
and misery.  IHer spinninglwheel, the busy hum  of which
had seldom before been silent, now stood idle and neglected;
the,furniture, usually so clean and polished, looked dusty and
disordered; the fire had nearly gone out, and her breakfast,
which seemed to have been long since prepared, lay un.
touched by her side. How impressive is the silence of extreme grief! Matilda stood for a moment immovable at the
door with surprise at the sight of such unexpected distress,
and then gently advancing to the old woman, she took her by
the hand, which was cold as death.  Janet feebly returned
the pressure of Miss Howard's fingers, and looked up with an
expression of momentary wonder, showing a face so haggard,




21i8               MODERN -SOCIETY,
so shrunk, so cold and disconsolate, that Matilda started with
astonishment; but seeing her unable to speak, she postponed all inquiries for the present, and, with characteristic
activity, gathered the remaining embers of the fire together,
and relighted them into a cheerful blaze.  She then boiled
the kettle afresh, and after preparing some tea, tried to rouse
once more the old woman's attention, by entreating her to
take some.
There is a magnetic power in the accents of real kindness
which reaches to the inmost recesses of mental suffering;
and the voice of pity and commiseration in which Matilda
addressed old Janet spoke instant peace to her mind. She
looked at first bewildered and faint, but gradually revived to
a greater appearance of consciousness, while her sympathizing visitor continued to administer refreshment to her exhausted frame.  Matilda could not but wonder to find old
Janet so entirely deserted; but seeing her still unable to
speak, she at length insisted on supporting her tottering
frame to bed, which with some difficulty she succeeded in
doing. Having now done everything for her bodily comfort,
Miss Howard ventured to begin a cautious and tender inquiry
into the cause of such unaccountable distress.
" Janet, I fear you are very unwell to-day."
"' Almost in eternity," replied the old woman, feebly, while
she turned on Matilda a countenance as perfectly white and
as rigid as if she had been already dead.
" You seem very poorly, indeed, Janet; I never saw you
unfit to work before; and why are none of the neighbors
here-or Nanny?"
": They are all gone to look for her," replied she, in a
hoarse deep voice, and speaking with great effort, for the old
woman became frightfully agitated. "' Oh, Miss Howard,"
added she, covering her face with her hands, " have you not
heard yet?  My poor Nanny! we thought she had not known
the hour of Matty's wedding-that she did not wish to see it
-but when all was over, and they came out of Dr. Murray's
house, she suddenly appeared. Her mind was gone, but yet
she gave them her blessing. She wished them happinessshe spoke to them both, and then rushed out of sight.  No
eye has seen her since. They tried to stop Nanny, but she
fled as if a spectre had pursued, and none could speed like
her. I saw her bonnet brought home fromn the river, but that
sweet face, which was the pride of my heart, we never shall
look upon again.  Oh! why did she ever leave me!"




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLCr.o             279
A burst of grief choked the old woman's utterance, and she
sobbed aloud. -Who can look upon the tears of helpless age
and not weep also?  Matilda's whole heart was melted with
pity for the afflicted mother, and she shuddered to think of
Nanny's probable fate. Even Eleanor had a place in her
thoughts at this moment, when she reflected on all the remorse that might await her for causing so much wretchedness. Matilda's tongue seemed to be chained when she gazed
on the intense agony of old Janet, and tried to think what
might be said to console her.  She longed to fly for Dr.
Murray, whose words would have more experience and authority than her own; but yet she could not go, without first
using her best endeavors to soothe and alleviate such heartrending sorrow.  She did not now take that tone of admonition and superiority with which most people in the height of
prosperity can teach others how they ought to bear sudden
calamity and anguish of spirit. She did not deal out sentences nor attempt the slightest exhibition of good sensebut Matilda had a heart to feel, and she felt and knew what
would be the effect of every word on the suffering mind she
desired to comfort.  She did not forget that it was to an aged
Christian she spoke, whose afflictions might obscure the
brightness of her hope for a moment; but who needed only
to be rieminded of the inheritance which awaited her, rather
than to be taught a due estimate of its unspeakable worth.
" This is a sorrowful hour indeed, Janet," she said in a
tone of heartfelt sympathy.  "You may well say, like Naomi,'the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me.' I
trust, however, that instead of being like Rachael, who refused to be comforted, you are spared to be an example of
that power which can support us under the severest calamities.  I weep myself, Janet, to think of your affliction, and
what must yoe feel-oh! how great are the sorrows that
this world can bring -but we are sinners, and have cause
to be thankful, whatever is laid on us, so long as we are not
eternally condemned.  Think how short a time any of us
have to mourn and how soon you will be in the presence of
that Great Being in a better world, who has always been
with you on earth."
~" Yes, Miss HIoward, death seems neither so strange nor
so distant as it used to do, and oh! it will be welcome now.
I am in the dark strait, when grief has struck me to the
heart, and resignation has scarcely yet been granted.  Age
and grey,-hairs, sickness and infirmity, have all been gather



280. MODERN  SOCIErYV
ing round me for years, and my heart was still supported
and cheerful-but my child- my poor Nanny; she has-destroyed herself; and how can I ever know peace again  My
sorrow is the only one that religion does not cure, because the
more I think, the worse it seems, that she should have died
in a way which religion forbids. Every step that approaches
nly door this day seems to bring me the last awful tidings, or
perhaps to be the sound of those who are bearing in her
lifeless body."
" We are not certain of the worst yet. She may possibly
be saved. Let us cling to hope, and remember that Nanny
was quite unconscious of what she did —her intellects have
certainly been wandering for sotne time past."
"She was deeply tried,. Miss Howard; she was disgraced
and desperate.  Oh! it comforts me to hear you still speak
of hope. No one would say this morning that they had any.
She flew straight to the river, which is deep and rapid. If I
could but see Nanny once again-if I could but hear that
she was cleared of all the evil that has been said, my eyes
would close on every earthly concern in thankfulness and
peace."
" We may trust, Janet, that her former companions who
raised these stories, will now be shocked at the mischief
they have done, and repent sufficiently to make them confess
her innocence.  Miss Fitz-Patrick was already resolved to
investigate the whole affair, and though justice is sometimes
reserved for a better world, still I hope that even now your
daughter's character will be cleared."
" You are right, my good young lady —either now or hereafter the truth will be known, and why should I be impatient! My days on earth will be few, and they must not be
wasted in vain lamentation.  That dear child is taken from
me, probably to make life less desirable, when its close is
so near-and death less a subject of regret. I have a great
work to do, for I must prepare to suffer and to die, not as
those who have no hope; and though nature feels, and my
heart seems broken for Nanny, yet the Christian may believe, in such an hour of extremity, that this sorrow is the
last which shall come throughout an endless eternity."
Matilda thought, from Janet's altered appearance, that
indeed she had not long to endure, whatever the result of
her suspense might be; and having extended her visit to
the utmost possible limit, she now prepared to withdraw, especially after having been relieved by the entrance of a




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.           281neighbor, who had hastened back from his unsuccessful
search. Before departing, however, she read the twelfth
chapter of Hebrews, which has been for ages the consolation of successive generations, while they have mourned and
wept in this world of changes.  An expression of resignation and peace gradually stole over the old woman's countenance as Matilda proceeded, far different from the ghastly
and haggard look which it had worn when she entered; and
at the conclusion, Janet slowly and solemnly raised herself
in the bed, and pronounced a devout blessing on her young
and lovely visitor. " Now," added she, "I shall endeavor
patiently to await the time, when it shall be my turn, like
the grass, to be cut down; and though she, who was as the
flower of the grass, is fallen before mle, yet the word of the
Lord endureth, and shall be my portion forever.  It comforts the heart of a poor, helpless being like me, Miss Howard, that -there are rich and precious blessings which my
prayers may bring down on one whom I have no other way
to serve, and many and constant shall they be for you. Farewell, my kind young friend; you leave me as well as I shall
be on this side of eternity; and probably our next meeting
will take place where uncertainty and sorrow will be forever at an end.  Grief and sickness are our best apprenticeship for death."




282                 MODERN SOCIETY,
CHAPTER XX.
I am unable, yonder beggar cries,
To stand or go. If he says true, he lies.
DONNE.
A HEAVY fall of snow had come on while Matilda remained at Gowanbank, but the weather now cleared up into
the very beav ideal of a winter day-bright, cold, and clear.
The air was like ice, the pure, unsullied snow lay thickly
over the buried fields, and a cloudless sunshine threw the
broad shadows of the overhanging branches along her path.
She looked upon the glittering landscape around, and experienced that rapturous pleasure of existence, which, independent of every other cause, often exhilarates the spirits
amidst such scenes of natural beauty, and gives a sensation
of happiness which can scarcely be traced to its source.
Everything seemed new and deliglitful.  The blue ethereal
sky, in its matchless splendor, proclaimed the glory of Him
who has stretched the heavens as a span, and the pure, untrodden snow reminded her, by its dazzling whiteness, of
those garments in which glorified saints shall at length be
clothed.  It would be as easy for our bodies to exist without the beating pulse within, as for our minds to live in a
religious state without meditation; and Matilda now reflected, in astonishment, how much her thoughts were lately
occupied and almost engrossed, with the amusements and
petty interests of the little circle in which she had recently
mingled. Excepting Sir Alfred, and, she could not but
add, with a smile of partial indulgence, an exception also in
favor of Mr. Grant, the visitors then at Barnard Castle
seemed in their conduct, to resemble a numuber of spoilt,
and not very amiable children, in their continual necessity
for restless excitement, their exaggerated views of every
little vexation which interrupted present gratification, their
total regardlessness of each other's real feelings, and their
almost undisguised desire of pre-eminence and distinction.
The Miss Cliffords gloried in testifying openly an abhorrence of Captain M'Tartan and Mr. Armstrong, as if they




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            283
had been themselves the highest caste of Brahumins thrown
into contact with a couple of Pariahs from the desert; while
Colonel Pendarvis and Major Foley lived in a perpetual
horror of Miss Marabout and Miss Murray, whom  they
pricked their ears and shyed ati as one of their own hunters
would have done at a donkey on the road, and whom they
classed together as a couple of undistinguishable old maids.
Lord de Mainbury at the samie time, looked down on the
Major and the Colonel, as mere soldiers of fortune, who
could scarcely keep a tolerable stud; and Lord Alderby
despised Lord de Mainbury, as a man of yesterday, while
he constantly whispered some old family tradition about his
Lordship's grandfather having once been butler at Alderby
Forest. Matilda wondered to think that all this was considered the highest refinement of good breeding, and she
could not but reflect how inferior the dancing-master and
the school of fashion are to that school of the heart which
taught how the feelings of the most insignificant are to be
treated with respect, and how each should consider another
better than himself; but religion is intended to eradicate
entirely that selfishness, which it is the utmost effort of
mere good manners to conceal, and which many who profess
to be perfectly well-bred do not even attempt to hide.
Matilda had often remarked that many people will treat
such as are decidedly their inferiors with kindness and condescension, while the whole weight of their exclusiveness
and repulsive hautevbr is reserved for those who approach the
nearest to themselves in rank and station, because then
comes the struggle for that pre-eminence which they are
anxious to assert; and even with some who affect to act on
Christian principle, it becomes a salvo to their own consciences if they stoop'gracefully to encourage those who are
far removed from themselves, and, at the same time, rudely
elbow of such as they conice in immediate contact with.
Something similar is the feeling of Christians in respect
to the doctrine and conduct of those with whom they associate-the nearer that any one approaches to their own
standard the more narrowly do they scan deficiencies; and
while they can look with pity and indulgence on many who
are near the threshold, there is a feeling of rivalship which
too often steals into the sentiments with which those are
observed who seerm as far advanced as themselves.  "How
trifling all those vain competitions appear, now that I am
removed from the scene of them!" thought Matilda;:' and




284                 MODERN SOCIETY,
it is probably with such feelings as I here contemplate the
last few days, that, in a future life: we shall all look back on
the scenes and the pleasures which are now so enticing!
The most important events in life will then appear to have
been insignificant, except in so far as they served to lead us
on in our Christian course, and thle greatest pleasures we
have ever known will seem but a dream of folly, except such
as were consistent with religion."
Her steps seemed as light as the falling snow, while
Matilda advanced speedily homewards, and rapidly entered
a long, narrow lane which led towards the approach. A
few foot-marks in the centre pointed out the path, and
showed that others had preceded her there during that
morning, or else the air of profound solitude which pervaded
the whole scene might have made it appear as if there were
not another being in the world but herself. The massy
stems of the beech-trees, like a long colonnade of pillars,
rose in majestic dignity on each side, throwing their long
branches out till they met overhead, and were curiously interlaced in the distance, like a Gothic window of some ancient cathedral.  The resplendent snow, glittering like sunshine on marble, stretched as far as her eye could reach,
and the dazzling beams of a setting sun reposed on the far
distant mountains, and shed a glow of ruddy light over the
horizon.  The air was perfectly still, and iot a sound could
be heard but her own footstep on the crisp, unyielding frost,
until Matilda was suddenly startled from her agreeable
meditations by the loud rough voice of a beggar, who
emerged from behind a hedge, and, to her no small alarm,
addressed her.  His appearance, which seemed by no
means prepossessing, answered completely to the description
she had already heard from Eleanor.' He was dressed in a
long, loose greatcoat, such as is usually worn by the' country
people in that neighborhood; a large handkerchief, which
covered his ears, was tied over the rag of a hat with which
his head was adorned.  His face seemed begrimed with
snuff, and one of his eyes was fast closed up, which gave a
strange, unnatural contortion to his whole features.  He
looked athletic, though evidently very lame, and his accent
was Irish.. " Och! long life to your honor, and many of them,
madam," said he, coming up -to her, in a tone of humor,
which called an irresistible smile into Matilda's counte
nanee.  "Sure you'll be after giving something to a poor




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            28%
distressed cratur, who has nine starving childer, besides
myself, and not a drop of comfort for any of us! Give me
a tinpenny, and, by your lave, you'll never be a farthing the
poorer."
Matilda could not help being amused at' the degag'  air
with which he addressed her, and the look of Irish humor
which glittered in his only eye; but she hurried on without
answering, being a determined enemy to imposture.
"It's you that.have the face of charity and goodness,
ma'am! sure you'll not belie such looks!-winter would
turn to summer at the sight of ye! Indeed, Miss, we are
in very indolent circumstances."
"I can give you nothing at present," replied Matilda,
trying to look very stern and decided.  "Call at Barnard
Castle to-morrow, and perhaps Sir Richard may have your
case inquired into."
" But a lady like yourself wouldn't be after walking
without a purse entirely! and you'll give something as a
token of respect. A poor boy such as I wouldn't be after
returning empty-handed as he came out; and throth, it's
not an hour since I dreamt that one like yourself came by.
Didn't I see you, as plain as my staff, take a shilling out to
give me, and return the purse into your bag 2"
"You know," answered Matilda, hurrying rapidly on,
"dreams go by contraries."
"Then it's the purse you'll give me, and the shilling
you'll keep! och, but that bates the world.  By the stick in
my hand, I'd cut a throat any day for half as much." cried
the beggar in an ecstasy of gratitude; "you're a lady, every
inch of you!  The purse then, if you plase, ma'am, and
thanks t'ye!"
He held out his hand with an air more like command
than entreaty, and Matilda began less and less to like her
persevering companion.  " We must examine into your
claims," said she, hurriedly; "I never give to people who
beg on the high road."
"Och, honey! is it into your parlor that I must come?
And for character, I'd refer you to Paddy O'Connar from
Kilkenny.  No!-he's been in jail this month past-the
drink makes fools of us all. Then there's Jerry Sullivan,
but he's gone beyond seas; just a trifle of money he lifted!
We're all tarred with the same stick; but you'll hear the
very best of me from myself, and who knows better? I'm
mortal sober always, and haven't tasted above three glasses




~2~86              P~MOIDERN SOCIETYI
to-day; but I'll drink your health this afternoon with the
two shillings you're going to give me; and may you never
die while you live."
Matilda really wished it had been less against all principle and conscience to bestow something on the poor man,
whose reckless audacity had a degree of humor along with
it, which diverted her in spite of considerable alarm which
she felt at their being so completely alone.
"Troth, ma'am," added he in a piteous tone, "you don't
know what I may be reduced to, if something is not given
me soon.":s To what?" asked Matilda, rather relenting.
" To work, ma'am! Bestow a trifle on me any how, for I
wouldn't wish to rob you."
There was something sinister in the villain's eye when he
said this, which greatly intimidated Matilda, who expected
the next instant that he would snatch away her bag, or perhaps even produce a pistol. She quickened her steps, but
became more and more alarmed on discovering that he
walked faster also; and his lameness, which had been at
first so conspicuous, became scarcely perceptible.  If he
had been walking for a wager, it would have been impossible
to keep up better with her accelerated pace. At length a
sharp turn in the lane disclosed another long, straight path,
of nearly half a mile in extent, about the centre of which
Matilda descried the distant appearance of a gentleman.
Instantly, with the speed of thought, she darted forward,
and knowing that few people could ever keep up with her
rapidity, she' flew on for protection towards the figure in
advance.  No sooner did the Irishman observe her intention to take flight, than he started forward, evidently desirous to impede her progress, and when she quickly eluded
his intention, he loudly vociferated for her to stop.  Terror
now gave wings to Matilda's feet, which scarcely touched
the ground, so that long after the beggar had ceased his
pursuit, she continued to fly, thinking she still heard the
sound of his footsteps, and his loud calls on her to return.
She even fancied, for a moment, that her own name was
reiterated in the distant air, and that a noise like laughter
echoed behind, but all this only gave fresh impetus to her
speed.  The next moment, panting, breathless, and faint,
Matilda overtook the person whose formn at a distance had
encouraged her to attempt an escape, and grasping his arm
with convulsive energy, she could not articulate a word, but




OIt'rTHE MRCH- 01 INTE,LLECT.        287
stood for some moments gasping to recover herself.  At
length, having raised her head to look at this unintentional
deliverer, she suddenly encountered the astonished gaze of
Sir Alfred Douglas.  If fear had already deprived Matilda
of utterance, agitation now completely overpowered her.
The scene she had lately gone through at Gowanbank, the
panic which had seized her about the Irishman, and the
confusion of having intruded so unexpectedly on Sir Alfred,
altogether combined to agitate her nerves so powerfully,
that every attempt to articulate only ended in a convulsive
quiver of the lips. She pointed backwards on the path
which had so lately been the scene of her flight, but not a
trace was left of the miscreant who had alarmed her, and,
overcome with the shock, she leant against a tree and burst
into tears.
After anxiously surveying the surrounding country, where
nothing appeared visible but a wild waste of snow,-and af-,
ter pausing some moments in the evident hope of an explanation, which Matilda's increasing agitation rendered every
moment more improbable, Sir Alfred at length turned to her,
with a look of respectful interest, but at the same time he
spoke with good-humored raillery, while still gazing all
round, in obvious perplexity and surprise.
" Pray, Miss Howard, what planet have you dropt from?
It is said that talking of friends always brings them into
one's presence; but if thinking~ had the same effect, you
would never be absent from me.  I am concerned to observe
how much you have been frightened: tell me what I can do.
Show me any tangible foe to exercise my valor on-I am
ready to shed the last drop of my blood, and so forth-but
rub my eyes as I may, there is really nothing to be seen.
It can scarcely be our old enemy, the ghost, in such broad
daylight?  Above all things, do not treat me to a fainting
fit, as I have no turn for nervous complaints, and could
scarcely find a drop of water within three miles at least!"
Matilda could not help smiling, and made a vain attempt
to speak, but her voice died away in inarticulate whispers.
Sir Alfred now became seriously embarrassed and distressed.
He took her hand, with a look of real sympathy, and anxiously watched Matilda's countenance.
"It is only a trifle," said she, attempting to laugh, but
still unable to finish her sentence.
" Can anything be a trifle that relates to you?" replied
he, in a tone which only increased her confusion: but at




288                M-lODBERN SOOIETVY
length, by a powerful effort, she so far recovered as to begin
some hurried explanation in broken sentences, of all that
had occurred during the morning, when, having accidentally
looked round, and giving a sudden exclamation of alarm, she
pointed to a neighboring lhedge, over which the beggar's head
had for a moment become visible, though he.instantly afterwards vanished. Sir Alfred did, however, catch a momentary glimpse of him likewise, and rushing forward, he sprung
over the fence, and seized the Irishman by the collar.  Matilda's first impulse would have been to resume her flight,
but terror chained her to the spot, an agitated spectator of
the scene.  She felt amazed at the agility and strength of
Sir Alfred, who usually appeared so inert; and temporary
suspense terminated in the inmost animated sensation of pleasure, when she saw her unexpected champion wrest the miscreant's stick out of his hand, and at once overpower him.
"I'll bet ten to one you don't do that again, Sir Alfred!"
exclaimed a voice that seemed familiar to Matilda's ears.
"You took me at a complete disadvantage, for I was more
overcome with surprise than even by your extraordinary
prowess.  Do indulge me with another round, Douglas, and
let Miss Howard be bottle-holdel!"
" Grant, your idea of a jest is rather different from mine!"
replied Sir Alfred, with as little appearance of surprise as if
lie had known him all along.  A distant laugh was immlediately afterwards heard approaching, and Eleanor appeared
rapidly advancing with the rest of her party, and exclaiming
in a tone of triumphant pleasure,'* Well this is really beyond
my hopes! Matilda is such an easy dupe that there is no
glory in imposing upon her! but you, Sir Alfred, who could
have expected it! Mr. Grant, I give you infinite credit for
executing my plan so admirably.  The giant has turned
into a wind-mill. It is the best joke, without exception, that
ever I saw!"
" Then you have been unfortunate, for I never knew a
worse,' replied Sir Alfred, looking at the pale countenance
of Matilda, who was doing her utmost to get up a laugh.
" Some people will sacrifice more for a bad jest than I would
ever do for a good one.  Miss Howard, let me hope that you
have not suffered materially'from  this amusing little jeu
d'esprit?"'" Not at all!" answered Matilda, in a tremulous voice,
while her limbs shook so that she could scarcely stand.' I




OR TMuE MAItICH OF INTELIECT.          289
Shall recover in a moment. How stupid of me not to see the
whole at once 1- I am quite well now."
"'Allow me to differ " said Sir Alfred.  "You are still
very nervous, and I must insist on your taking my arm."
"With great pleasure," replied she, coloring and smiling.' I wish it had been qmy hand that you are so willing to
accept," added Sir Alfred in an undertone; and when
Miatilda looked up for a moment, his eyes were fixed upon'her with a look of penetrating interest.  "Miss Howard,"
added he, in an altered voice, "' I trust you will believe me
incapable of lightly alluding-to a subject which is of sacred
importance to me, and in which my whole future happiness
may yet be at stake. I know not what interest it may hereafter have for you, but it involves the earthly hopes of my own
existence.  Time will enable me to explain the circumstances which have involved me for the present in a situation
of embarrassment, in which my conduct has been such as
might have been misconstrued by any one less candid and
generous than yourself.  I could not even dare to say so
"much as I have done, were it not for the fear that you may
attribute that reserve to inclination, which is only the result
of temporary necessity."
Matilda suddenly recollected at this moment what Miss
-Marabout has said respecting a promise of Sir Alfred;s to
his mother, on the subject of at least postponing any declaration or engagement; and without pausing to analyze the
emotions to which this remembrance gave rise, she made-a
lhurried and agitated reply. Sir Alfred then led the conversation into a new channel, involving an interesting discussion
of various subjects, wherein that similarity and diversity of
opinion was elicited between the parties which gives its
highest zest to conversation, leading them on insensibly to
the development of those sacred principles and engrossing
interests in which both were so deeply versed.
"Mr. Grant!" said Eleanor, looking sarcastically after
Matilda: "my cousin has got up a perfect scene on this
occasion    You should really assist in supporting  her
home!': No! ino! I have performed my part to please you, but
it went too far.  When once I get into the spirit of anything
there is no stopping nme.  I once acted Mad Tom  on the
summit of Dover Cliff, and if Douglas had not seized hold
of me in time, would hiave fairly leaped over in the enthusiasm of the moment.  But positively,;  iss Fitz-Patrick, I
I3




290,tIODE1N SOCIETY,
am afraid of your cousin, she is so very fascinafing. Such
perfect na'vWete and good humor, with so much talent and
principle, have altogether captivated me, and I would propose to her to-morrow, if you can give meia single peg to
hang a hope upon."
"Indeed 1!' said Eleanor, changing color, and with a look
of angry surprise.  "' It was scarcely necessary to tell me
this! I thought you had known the world better, Mr.
Grant, than to entertain one lady with a rhapsody on the
charms of another!'
-." Ah! Miss Fitz-Patrick! we understand each other now
and you acted very fairly long since, by putting me on my
guard in good time against presumption.  You know very
well that I went through all the agonies of death for you
last year, and how hard-a struggle it cost me to fly away on
the wings of disappointment.  As Don Whiskerandos says,
however, 6 One can't stay dying here forever!' and I should
not have ventured to your' enchanted castle at all if there
had been the least apprehension of troubling you with a relapse.  My present case is equally hopeless, unfortunate
man that I am! for every one may see how completely Sir
Alfred is devoted to BMiss Howard, and there probably exists
not a man living who presumes to imagine he could rival
him.'." You are in jest, Mr. Graut!" exclaimed Eleanor, angrily, for every word he had said spoke daggers to her vanity.
" Sir Alfred cares no mnore for my cousin than for Miss
{Marabout?. 
"' Pray convince me of that, for I shall be most willing to
believe it.  Indeed, Miss Fitz-Patrick, there are not two
Matilda Howards in the world, or I might be happy; but as
it is now, my friend Douglas deserves her, and you may depend upon it they understand each other."
Eleanor walked rapidly on, in evident agitation, and preserved an unbroken silence for some time, while Mr. Grant
endeavored, to seem unconscious of it, and sung, in the most
beautiful cadences of his melodious voice, the air of " One
struggle more!" suiting the tune to the words, for it gradually deepened into melancholy, till the sound at length
died away entirely, and, for the first time in their lives,
Eleanor and her ci-devUdzt lover pursued their course without speaking.  Mr. Grant had long wished for an opportunity of communicating to Miss Fitz-Patrick his conjecture
respecting Sir Alfred's attachmQnt, because, in his anxious




OR THE lMARiC1 OF INTELLECT.          291
solicitude for her happiness, he observed the increasing interest she took in his friend's society, and could not but
apprehend that it might be dangerous to her peace; for,
greatly valuing, as he did, the high character and., brilliant
talents of Sir Alfred, he thought it impossible to overestimate the admiration and attachment which he ought to
excite.
Nothing could be a greater mistake, however, than the
conjecture of Mr. Grant with respect to Eleanor's real feelings.  Her vanity would have become deeply wounded,
could she have been convinced that Sir Alfred viewed her
with indifference; but to imagine for a moment that he also
preferred Matilda, was so revolting to her wishes, that she
could not allow it to be possible, though the suggestion renewed in her mind that rankling'feeling of jealousy which
had long burnt fiercely within her breast, and occasioned
actual misery to herself, while it destroyed every emotion
towards her cousin but dislike.  Painful, nevertheless, and
corroding as was the state of her mind on this subject, Mr.
Grant little imagined how greatly he erred in attributing to
disappointment, on account of his friend, the sudden paleness of Eleanor's cheek, and the unnatural hectic which
succeeded it.  No one could appreciate more highly than
Miss Fitz-Patrick did the noble appearance and high reputation of Sir Alfred.  That which gave its richest embellishment to both, his unswerving principle and his deep devotion of mind, she could neither know nor value,-yet she
saw him  the object of universal respect and admiration;
she knew him to be gifted with everything that gives grace
or dignity to high station; and she had long considered it
as a triumph which she must one day achieve to see Sir
Alfred at her feet. To gain such a victory Eleanor never
paused to consider how far her own happiness or his might
be involved in the enterprise; but her feelings were in
reality no more than many young and enthusiastic minds
must frequently experience in the presence of any one
whose distinguished conduct has gained him pre-eminence
in'the world. The sentiment of profound interest and
admiration with which she regarded him might have been
transferred, almost unaltered, to the first celebrated poet,
or applauded orator, or successful hero whom she accidentally met; —it was even with a modification of the same
feeling that she admired and endeavored to please Dr.
Murray, for vanity alone rendered her desirous t-o gain a




29'2                MODERN SOCIETY,
supreme interest with-one whom every other person was
seeking to attract. But there was a deeper sentiment in
the breast of Miss Fitz-Patrick, which had lcng been smothered, but which now made itself heard with a voice that
could not be stilled.  Never till this moment had she
doubted the constancy and the fervency of Mr. Grant's
attachment, nor that the day would come when she should
be called on to choose between him and his friend. If ever
she became wearied and disgusted by the officious assiduities of her self-interested lovers, who, she was conscious,
were admirers more of her estate than of herself, she had
long been accustomed to recur with her earliest feelings of
regard to Mr. Grant's unalterable affection, for it was impossible to know him, and to doubt its entire disinterestedness. The frank and open-hearted disposition of her former
lover, his graceful manners and high tone of independence
and good feeling, had long since made an indelible impression on her heart; and there had been a degree of considerate kindness in his tone and manner of late, partaking
more of the friend than of the lover, which she had attributed to diffidence, while it pleased and gratified her.  Unaccustomed to restraint or to self-examination, Miss FitzPatrick went on recklessly following the bent of every
wayward and fantastic caprice, but forgetful that the destiny of her whole future life might be involved in the impression which her conduct conveyed at a time when she
was thus thinking only of instant gratification.  While
Eleanor felt surprised and shocked to discover Mr. Grant's
estrangement, she could not but remember now a thousand
instances in which her own careless indifference and heedless vivacity must have given him a full conviction that the
alteration was mutual. Whatever Eleanor actually possessed she became indifferent to, and saw only its defects, —
but uncertainty always brought forth its real worth; and
above all, her lover now appeared to the utmost advantage
in her eyes when he was irretrievably lost; every evidence
of his altered feelings enhanced beyond measure the merit
and the value of her liberated captive; and when he spoke
of his former admiration in a careless tone, which showed
how entirely it was considered as a " tale of other times,"
she no longer thought of his small property and uncertain
inheritance, but she felt the inestimable value of his longtried attachment; and she for the first time became fully
aware of the place he occupied in. her affections.




Ot THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            293
To conceal these thoughts from every one, and especially
from Mr. Grant, became now Eleanor's first object; and no
one who observed her brilliant spirits during that evening
and the following day, could have suspected the aching void
which she felt within her heart, the loathing with which she
viewed all that had hitherto dazzled or delighted her, and the
melancholy depression which she vainly endeavored to conquer. Life seemed to Eleanor for the time like a dreary farce,
in which she must act her part with spirit, on account of the
spectators, to whom her own private feelings were indifferent
and unknown.  Mr. Grant alone perceived the change, which
he attributed entirely to the discovery of Sir Alfred's pre.
vious attachment, though Eleanor still entirely disbelieved
that, and saw nothing in his conduct towards Matilda to disprove her own opinion.  She had no conception of strong
feeling which was not displayed; and in the silent interest
with which Sir Alfred attended to all Matilda said, and in
the unobtrusive attentions which accidentally fell under her
notice. she acknowledged no apprehensions to herself of a
deeper sentiment than the most ordinary civility.
Mr. Grant redoubled his assiduities to Eleanor, with a
friendly desire to divert her thoughts from Sir Alfred, whom
he fancied that she observed with a degree of anxious interest,t he motive for which he entirely misconceived. There
was more of gravity and feeling than usual towards her, on
account of his consciousness that she was suffering,-he
blamed himself for not having sooner put Eleanor on her
guard; and never did his powers of entertainment and fascination come out with greater effect than on the first evening
when MIiss Fitz-Patrick became conscious that she had lost
him forever.




'294                 MODERN SOCIETY,
CIIAPTER XXI.
At church, with meek and unaffected grace,
His looks adorned the venerable place:
Truth from his lips prevail'd with double sway,
And fools, who came to scoff, remain'd to pray.
GOLDS IITH.
"No muffins-and cold rolls for breakfast!-that is a sure
indication of its being Sunday," cried Eleanor, next morning, with a forced attempt at vivacity.  "I am always more
hungry to-day than any other day in the week, one has so
little to do. If anybody proposes going to church this bleak
snowy morning, I must order the carriage at twelve, and our
pew may be recommended as the best of all places for cultivating coughs, colds, rheumatisms, influenzas, and all the ills
flesh is heir- to. Lady Susan! No, by the way, this is your
letter-writing day.  I always know when to expect a line, if
you are in my debt.  Lady Montague! with that cold, it is
out of the question. Young ladies! Charlotte Clifford! your
weekly headache has come on.  Well then, the noes have it,
and we may read prayers in the library, with Miss Marabout
for chaplain."
Miss Fitz-Patrick cautiously shunned looking towards her
cousin, who felt conscious of the intended omission.  Her
color rose, but she carefully avoided appearing to notice the
oversight, and continued calmly conversing with Mr. Grant,
who had previously addressed her.
" Stop, Miss Fitz-Patrick, woe have not been polled yet,"
said he, turning hastily round;: here is one vote, I am certain, on the opposite side."
"Oh, no," whispered Matilda, anxiously, for she already
anticipated the pleasure of stealing off and proceeding alone
to Gaelfield. " I have a conveyance of my own which takes
me always to church and back again. It is the safest and
most wholesome diligence in the world, which Eleanor
knows I constantly use from preference, in all weathers and
on all occasions."
" You don't mean to walk!-it would be impossible to get
through the snow without stilts to-day."




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT,   2-          6
"And yet many who are much more delicate than I ana
will make the effort.  Yoni have no idea, MIr. Grant, what
frail old creatures will come tottering to  church this
morning-what numbers will rise fromn beds of sickness
to go there, and what hundreds have learned from Dr. Alurray to forget present inconvenience, while seeking to avoid
future misery.  If I had not a paramount interest of my
own in frequenting church, I would even go to-day for the
pleasure of sympathizing with others in the joy it gives many
to attend. Poor old Janet said yesterday that it was thle
only remaining happiness which she could feel it possible to
enjoy in this world; and for my own part, I hope and be
lieve it will survive all others.'"
" This is the first time, Miss Howard, that I ever thought
you had a tolerable opinion of me," replied Mr. Grant, in a
voice between jest and earnest. " You only speak seriously
to those who are in some degree to be trusted, and in whom
you take an interest.  I must have always appeared a mere
Tom Fool in your eyes, for I deserved nothing better, and
yet when we are together I have occasionally felt -; but
it is no matter now,' added he, in a tone of agitation, and,
turning suddenly round, he looked at Sir Alfred for a moment, in silence.  " No, I would make no change if it had
even been possible.  I do not wish it.  With all my faults,
let me never be selfish."
" Grant, my good fellow, what were you soliloquizing there
for with such a tragical look?" said Sir Alfred, taking his
arm as they left the breakfast-room. " I hope it was the rehearsal of such an oration for the hustings as shall resound
throughout the universe next Tuesday?"
"I was thinking, Douglas, of a different election, in
which your success is still more to be envied; but on both
you shall have my warmest and most hearty congratulations."
"Do not feel too sure of my requiring them  on either
occasion," said Sir Alfred with emotion.  " You are aware,
Grant, that I have no concealments from a friend like yourself,; and that I am still bound to remain in uncertainty
with respect to JMiss Howard's sentiments."
" Can you seriously mean to express any doubt of sue~ess?" asked Mri. Grcant in a tone of incredulity.  " It is
not like you, Douglas, to affect such a thing."
"If my acceptance were an affair that rested merely on
the ordinary calculations of prudence and eligibility, T




296                 MODERN SOCIETY,
might be as confident as you expect; but where principle,and inclination are alone likely to be consulted you might
feel, Grant, if you were as deeply attached as I am, what
suspense and diffidence maean."
6Say what you will; I only wish my prospects were as
happy and as securely founded as yours, Douglas; but it
is enough to have a friend whose prosperity is as dear to mle
as my own. Many an hour of good eounsel you have wastedl
on me, but the day has come when I begin to perceive its
full value, and to think that iy tile, talents, and opportunities, such as they are, might be put out to better interest
than they have ever brought ime yet." -
Sir Alfred clasped his firiend's hand in his own with
emotion, while he looked earnestly and seriously in his
countenance.  "Grant, there was but one thing wanting to
the perfect unity of our friendship.  I always believed that
this hour would arrive.  Let us talk together alone, for I
have much to say.  Perhaps you will walk with me to
church?"'
" If it rain icebergs I will.". Matilda paused before entering the church, to admire, as
she had often done before, a degree of neatness unusual in
country churchyards, which often gave her pleasure as she
passed. M- iss Murray had once described the disorder in
which she originally found it, with long rank grass, and
nettles waving in neglected luxuriance over the departed
fathers of the congregation; a few wretched, unwholesome
sheep pasturing amidst the graves, while the broken and
dilapidated wall admitted children and dogs from  the village to play their noisy gambols amidst broken and ruinous
tomb-stones, which it was a favorite amusement with the
boys to deface.  Dr. Murray often saw occasion to lamnent
such irreverence for the dead in other places, but it was one
of his earliest acts at Gaelfield to assert that respect which
is due from human beings towards each other, even in their
last stage of humiliation and decay.  He considered that
the universal feeling, even among savage nations, of veneration for their deceased friends and parents, was one of the
few natural impulses which is really respectable, and ou.ght
to be encouraged.  Hle could admire no enlightened wisdom
that raised men above those little sympathies and tendernesses of nature, and without long delay he abolished the
use of churchyard mutton in his parish-repaired the wall,
mowed down the grass, re-erected many prostrate tomb




OR THE MARCH OF IN rELLECT..297
stones, and restored to the whole scene that air of silent
and solemn dignity suited to the awful habitation of the
dead.
Matilda was seated in church for some time before -the
service began, and watched with agreeable interest the
gathering of a very numerous congregation, whose countenances wore an expression of salutary seriousness which
harmonized with the reflections of her own mind, and made
her conscious that the pleasure of sympathy is indeed a
welcome auxiliary to that of devotion, while our prayers are
mingled with those of others in the public worship of God.
Her heart expanded with joy -and peace when she considered herself placed there to enjoy the rich moral and intellectual feast, to which all who are willing may consider
themselves invited guests; and Matilda could not but think
what infinite wisdom there is in the appointment of a stated
period, when the busiest, the most ignorant, the most careless, and the most diffident may, in a moment, without effort,
without difficulty, without being ashamed, or even conspicuous, enjoy the advice and the entire concentrated knowledge
and experience of such a man as Dr. Murray, whose whole
existence was devoted to seeking out those truths which could
be told them in an hour; and Matilda reflected with what
despair men might have often dropt down on the threshold
of religion, if their own unassisted efforts had been the only
human means by which the powerful convictions of conscience must be followed up. Day by day Dr. Murray repeated over the simplest truths to his people.  Like a
mother teaching her child his simple hymn, which she rehearses again and again without making perceptible progress, till at length he is found to be thoroughly, though
gradually, versed in his lesson, so the venerable pastor constantly reverted to first principles. He varied his explanations also by a profusion of apt illustrations, by the mention of appropriate incidents, by allusions to circumstances
of general interest in the congregation, and by quoting
largely from other theologians; at the same time, Dr. Murray never mentioned from the pulpit any names, however
eminent, which are not recorded in Holy Scripture, for he
considered that no authority should be so honored, from the
seat of ministerial instruction, except such as are divinely
appointed.
When the service was about to commence, Matilda heard
a step advancing along the gallery,'which proved to be that
1 3




29(8                MODERN SOCIETY,
of Sir Alfred, who placed himself in an opposite corner of
the pew, and without giving even a transient glance around,
he opened the large Bible which lay before him, Mr. Grant
followed, and, with characteristic rapidity, threw himself
into a seat, instinctively passed his fingers through his hair,
looked at his watch, and- then folding his arms, he fell into
a profound and evidently'very serious meditation.
Dr. Murray's deep, melodious voice broke the solemn silence which prevailed, and as he proceeded in the service,
intense attention might be traced in every countenance.  So
absorbing was the interest with which Matilda listened, that
she at once forgot there was another individual in the sacred
edifice but herself and the preacher, while every word seemed
to be directed immediately to her own conscience. The energy of Dr. Murray's address, which seemed always skilfully
aimed at the heart, consisted not in vehemence of gesticulation, or in rhetorical display, but there was an impressive
dignity in his manner, and a power in the modulations of
his richly-toned voice, which enchained the most wandering
mind, while his profound vein of thought, his forcible arguments, and his awful views of life, in all its hopes, its fears,
and its responsibilities, evinced that a full conviction rested
in his own mind of the tremendous importance attached to
those subjects on which he treated, and that, whether he described the terrors or the hopes of the Gospel, his language
was that of a heart filled with reverence towards God, and with
love towards man. Dr. Murray made a rule to avoid prolixity in his sermons. Everything he did was upon reflection
a.nd principle, rather than from impulse; and as his object
was' "by any means to win some," he considered that infir
mities of age, restlessness in childhood, and languor from in,
disposition, limited the power of attention in many; while,
even to the most devout of his people, ample leisure was desirable at home to digest what they had heard by meditation
and prayer.  Many unskilful attendants'on the sick have
imagined that if, by administering a small dose of medicine,
they diminished the evil, an unlimited application would
produce instant recovery; but, as Baxter says, " It is safer
to feed your flock like chickens than to cram them like turkeys." Dr. Murray, therefore, was never heard to boast of
having found it impossible to stop, because, on all occasions,
he avoided vain repetitions, and never grudged the additional
trouble which Paley complained that it cost him to " make
his sermons short."




OR THE MARCH O  INfTELLECT.           299
When the numerous congregation at Gaelfield silently
dispersed, without having dissipated their serious impressions by any whispered gossiping, or-irreverent criticisms of
the sermon, Matilda rose also to depart, and found Sir Alfred, with his companion, waiting for her near the church
door.
" You evaded us in coming here, Miss Howard," said Mr.
Grant, reproachfully.  "I could scarcely have overtaken
such rapid movements at a gallop; but there is no chance
of escape now unless by taking actual flight in the fashion
of yesterday."
"No inducement shall make me do that again, Mr. Grant,
because it is only an old friend with a new face that I would
avoid," replied Matilda, giving him one of her sweetest smiles.
"WXe have all enjoyed the pleasure of hearing such important truths to-day that it would be impossible to think
on other subjects, and there could be no greater gratification
to me than in discussing them as we go homewards.'
" It would be difficult, indeed, I may add almost sinful,
to estrange our thoughts fronm what has been said.  The impression should last forever," replied Mr. Grant, beginning
a conversation which continued, with increasing interest,
until the party at length reached that long green lane where
Matilda met with her adventure on the preceding day. Sir
Alfred then paused in the middle of a sentence, and looked
at Mr. Grant.  " Miss Howard," added he, "we visited a
friend of yours this morning, who is very desirous to see
you soon. I made a rash promise, perhaps overestimating
my own influence, in venturing to engage that you would
accompany Mr. Grant and myself to see' her now."
"A friend of mine?-It must have been a mistake for
Eleanor!7"
I rather believe not," replied Sir Alfred, smiling to Mr.
Grant.  " We know of several, but the one in question was
praising you with great eloquence to-day."
" Ah! then you need not add another word! It must
have been good, excellent Miss Murray, who has a kind
opinion of every one."
" Still wrong! I should never have remembered the panegyric of such an indiscriminate admirer.   They who dare
not censure scarce can praise.' Our friend to-day was one
who experiences little cause to think well of the world in
general, but she said much of you, and more than you would
wish any one to believe."




300                MODERN SOCIET;,
"Sir Alfred, you are infected with Eleanor's genius fom
passing a jest upon me, but I am become very cunning and
suspicious, particularly as friends and admirers of mine are
not very abundant anywhere."
" Not even in the village?" asked Sir Alfred, archly.
"Are you going to deny being on visiting terms at the house
of that unfortunate old woman whose daughter disappeared
so strangely?"
" I guessed right, then, yesterday! It was you who acted
so generously towards poor Janet 1" exclaimed Matilda, with
a brilliant look of surprise and pleasure.
"Your own experience testifies, Miss Howard, that there
is no happiness on earth equal to that of promoting it in
others, and therefore we cannot allow you to monopolize a
privilege which all ought to share. Let-us, then, accompany
you now, and though this is the first time we have gone to
such scenes together, I trust it will not be the last."




Olt TI  MARCH' OF INTELLECT~           301
CHAPTER XXII.
Nor those blest hours on idle trifles waste,
Which all who lavish shall lament at last.
HY~IN.' WHAT untidy weather this is 1" exclaimed Eleanor, next
morning, after breakfast, while she flitted from window to
window in the library, as if she hloped at som)e one of them
to discover more sunshine than the rest displayed; but each
presented an unbroken winding-sheet of snow, which looked
as if it might defy a summer's heat, while an incessant fall
of large downy flakes were to be seen, lounging lazily down,
as if they meant to settle for weeks.  Some of the largest
were eagerly pointed out by Lord Alderby and Colonel
Pendarvis, who traced their slow, dignified descent, and betted largely on the relative rapidity of their fall, while Major
Foley acted as umpire.
" Are you trying to discover, my Lord, whether that red
spot on the sky means to pass for the sun or the moon 2"
asked Eleanor, looking wearily out; "or perhaps watching
to take a lesson how winter powders his wig, in case of ever
gsrowzing old, and feeling obliged to wear one'
"I was thinking rather of becoming young again, than of
getting old, Miss Fitz-Patrick, for we are trying a new pastime. One of my favorite amusements in travelling, is something on the same plan.  We have generally a bet who shall
see the greatest number of living animals upon his own side
of the carriage.  A donkey counts four, a turkey-cock Zwo, a
peacock five, and a cat looking in at a window is always
game! Pendarvis and I once amused ourselves the whole
way to London with no other resource, when we were going
up to attend our duties in Parliament!"
A transient expression of contempt passed over Eleanor's
beautiful countenance, and with a look of unconquerable dejection she dropt into a seat.  The gentlemen instantly
gathered round her in evident certainty of being entertained
by her lively sallies and amusing caprices, but the young
heiress felt for once incapable of exertion.  To conceal the




302                MODtRN SOCIETY,
spiritless tone of her mind, she immediately opened a large,
box, containing innumerable alphabets printed on little
squares of ivory, and spread them out on the table, desiring
each individual to select the letters which formed any word,
and having skaken them miscellaneously together, to exchange them with some one else of the party, who must exhibit his talent by the quickness with which he discovered
what was meant.  Matilda watched Eleanor transposing and
puzzling over the letters EDISARP, which had been presented
to her with such a sentimental sigh by Major Foley, that it
would not have been difficult to guess from his countenance
he intended  to express Despair.  Sir Colin and  Lord
Alderby were in agonies of uncertainty over a- handful of
letters, which Miss Fitz-Patrick had laughingly' reached
them, while Sir Alfred continued perseveringly, though with
a look of sly humor, to decline many importunate invitations
to join in the amusement.
"Amusement! that word must have a different meaning
in the dictionary from what I had ever imagined."' Do try, Sir Alfred! You are afraid of being thought
stupid, but we shall be very indulgent at first. It would
entertain you beyond measure; and I do enjoy a little diverting nonsense occasionally."'
"I rather prefer diverting sense," replied he, looking at
Matilda for an instant, and then resuming his book.
" Here is a very easy word. and exactly characteristic of
yourself! Now let us see a laudable curiosity to ascertain
what that is!"
" Excuse me; I have really no genius for spelling; it is
an accomplishment that never could be taught me. If you
will believe it, Miss Fitz-Patrick, I always spell philosopher
beginning with F, and capricious with a K."
" That is the more surprising, since the last word is so
appropriate to yourself; but it would be unpardonable to
lose this opportunity of improvement.  I shall undertake to
teach you unimpeachable spelling in six lessons."
" Indeed you have no conception how desperate the case
is. I was always of opinion with Sir William Curtis, who
hated the three R's in education, Reading, Riting, and
Rithmetic."
"There are no symptoms of your antipathy to reading,"
answered Eleanor, looking with an air of pique at Sir
Alfred's book. " I shall write a volume to-morrow, if you
will promise to sit dozing and mooning over it all day, as




OR THE MARCH- OF INTELLECT.            303'
you do often with that little volume, which seems to live in
your pocket. I have the worst opinion of books bound in
white parchment; they are all as old and dry as a Herculaneuml manuscript.  I only wish they were equally inaccessible."
" Then, pray, Miss Fitz-Patrick, if you were condescending enough to undertake the regulation of my studies, what
would be prescribed?"
" A very light diet at first, to clear your brain from the
clouds of Greek and Latin, with which it is at present darkened.  But a propos-that reminds me, Sir Alfred, what a
very untoward pupil you were formerly. I recollect once,
at Douglas Priory, making you positively promise to read
Lady Ashton's new  novel,'The Marchioness,' and being
actually so obliging as to find it for you in the library.
Afterwards, whenever we called on Lady Amelia, I used to
discover the first volume, with your mark still in it; and
though I several times slipped it a few pages backwards to
tease and puzzle you, I question whether the trick was ever
even suspected."
" That accounts for its having appeared so insufferably
tedious.  The very recollection of that book puts me to
sleep. It was the only novel in fashionable life that I ever
travelled through; and luckily for myself, I never knew
originals for any one of the characters.  It was full of false
sentiment, bad morality, and ideas only fit for milliners'
apprentices."
" You forget, Sir Alfred, that I recommended the work
as an especial favorite; but there is no improving you'r
taste."
"Very true; it is an absolute waste of time to attempt it.
You may say, Miss Fitz-Patrick, as my old tutor used to do,
that I must be allowed to' hang as I grow;' but perhaps
Miss Howard will exercise her spelling instead of me.  It
has been rumored that her education, like mine, was deficient on that- score.  As Dogberry says,'reading and
writing come by nature.'"
Matilda had been almost unconsciously standing beside
Eleanor, with an air of graceful negligence, while she listened to the preceding dialogue; but as her cousin had
constantly shunned for the last three days having any intercourse with her which could be decently avoided, she therefore colored and looked confused at being thus unetpectedly brought into prominent notice.




304                 MODERN SOCIETY,
"' Are you there, Matilda?" said Eleanor in a tone of
marked indifference; and, without adding another syllable,
she instantly busied herself with the alphabets, and pushed
towards Lord de Mainbury a confused miscellany of letters
which ought to constitute the word DISINTERESTED.  His
Lordship instantly assumed an attitude of deep attention;
but though he sat for nearly an hour, bestowing ~upon the
subject his undivided observation, and such intense study
as might have solved a problem in mathematics, or revealed
what is the square of a circle, he never was able to ascertain
the oracular word with which Miss Fitz-Patrick had favored
him.
" I wish some fairy, as bright as yourself, would give
these a touch of her wand!" said he, looking completely bewildered.  "But all their enchantments have been stolen
away by one fair lady who shall be nameless."
Matilda thought she had never witnessed such an outlay
of time bringing in so small a return of entertainment in
proportion.  She looked round to ascertain what resources
might be adopted by others of the. party.  Lady Susan was
rushing through the last new novel.  The Miss Montagues
were exhibiting their graceful figures in a game at battledore and shuttlecock in the entrance hall, where frequent
exclamations of interest were made, evidently to attract
notice.  Miss Marabout was lounging in an attitude on the
ottoman, near which she had driawn a large table, surrounded
by a wreath of the newest annuals, while she tried, with all
her might, to laugh at the one commonly called " Comic!"
Her seat commanded an excellent view of two splendid
mirrors, into which she stole hasty glances whenever a smile
had been called up, because it gave her an opportunity of
studying expression, and of seeing her teeth, which were
still tolerable. Miss Charlotte Clifford, with an air of great
importance, placed herself at the pianoforte, and opened her
small miniature music-book, decorated with a gold lock, in
which were four " treasures" of songs.  The words seemed
much as usual, and the air nothing particular, but still they
were newo-not another young lady in the world had a copy. —and they could not be hcad!  So terrified was she for their
becoming common, that none of her friends might even be
allowed to turn the leaves over when she sung, fromn an apprehension that the words might be stolen, and Mir. Grant
now made her adopt a redoubled degree of watchfulness.
He had contrived, with great quickness, when she was per



OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.             305
forming the day before, to pick up a verse, from one which
she particularly prized, and while Miss Clifford was airanging a music-stool, he stood at the fire with his newspaper,
carelessly humming the words, and singing it in such an
a.utdible key as to attract her immediate notice.
"  Where dJill you get I Tears and Smiles,' Mr. Grant?"
(sxclaimed Miss Charlotte, in a voice of alarm.:'I really forget; it's an old thing.  WtVas it my groom
who sung it? or the dairynmaid 2 —I can easily obtain a copy
for you, however, or write something else quite as good.
You know, Miss Clifford. it is a proverb, when anything is
totally worthless, that it might be sold for an old song.;
Sir Richard strolled about the room, fretting and grumbling at the weather, while he prophesied that this heavy
snow-storm would stop the post for three weeks at least.
After having exhausted every advertisement and paragraph
in the Times and ilfor'milg, Post, he turned to his daughter,
saying, " Eleanor, I once observed, in some of the unifhabited bedrooms, newspapers dangling in front of the
grates; to keep off dust, but I beg you will have them  all
carefully collected for me now.  In this remote corner it is
necessary to husband our resources of information and
amuse ment. "
" To the curious in newspapers! Well, papa, your idea
is ingenious, and there are several well-lined trunks up
stairs, which shall be added to your store."
"Life is a poor affair at best, but quite unbearable in the
country without a billiard-table! We must order one immediately, Eleanor.  All the green meadows in Invernessshire are not equal to a smooth field of green baize, fenced
in with mahogany."
" Ask Alderby to stoop in a horizontal position-his
green coat is an acre in breadth, and with the pockets would
do admirably," whispered Mr.I Grant to Eleanor.  " We
can easily provide cues, and snake Sir Richard happy at
once, for his Lordship would do anything to oblige youa."
"My windows rattled all last night like an old post
chaise!" pursued the Baronet; fretfully, "and  to-day; IX
would literally have to be dug out of the snow, if we ventured near the stable.  Thle ministry may be changeJ and
restored again before our post arrives, and Parliament dissolve sooner than the snow.  Gentlemen, would any of you
like to have the shutters closed, and a bowl of punch! I
wish, Fletcher, that Harlequin's wand could transform your




0 6                 MIODE tN SOCIETY,
inkstand into ore —the sealing-wax might be metamorphosed
into cigars also, and day into night."
Matilda. seeing Sir Colin clear his throat for a long story,
determined on stealing off- to the solitary enjoyment of her
own numerous occupations, and was amused as she left the
room, to hear Lady Montague ask her daughters, in a tone
of importance, whether they had any message for a numerous constellation of peeresses, whom she announced her intention of writing to that day, while they returned the usual
unsatisfactory answer on such appeals being mlade,: nothing
but our kind remembrances."  It otten astonished Miss
Howard to observe a rational being, whose whole thoughts
and actions were concentrated on one object so entirely as
those of Lady Montague.  In her intercourse with her own
family, or with strangers, even with shopkeepers and servants, the desire never was absent, for a single instant, to'keep up hcr owlt consequence 1' To this every domestic
pleasure, every exercise of her affections, and every aniuselment was made subservient  "If I could but acquire the
same singleness of purpose in seeking for higher attainment
in holiness!" thought Matilda, with a feeling of self-reproach,
as she drew in a. chair at her own fireside, and thought over
the whole scene she had quitted with sentiments of surprise
at that listless ennui which most of the party had exhibited.
"How truly Dr. Murray observed, that nothing desirable
can be obtained without vigorous exertion, for I perceive
than even those who seek merely for amusement must fail,
if they pursue it indolently.  The effort is the actual pleasure on all occasions.  If a sportsman could be supplied with
as many brace of birds on the 12th of August as he chose to
name, where would be his enjoyment?  If an author saw
his books ready made to his wish, what satisfaction would
they give him?  I can imagine myself placed suddenly in
possession of every earthly blessing that could be named,
and if -they be granted without limit and without difficulty,
they could confer no happiness.  Let the keenest collector
of pictures be told that he shall receive the-m in cart-loads
whenever he desires it-let the greatest miser be told that
any number of thousands he chooses to name shall be found
ready at his bank,-or even those who follow the nobler
pursuit of fame, let it be supposed that every eye is fastened
on them when they pass, and every ear listens entranced
when they speak, still the certainty and the abundance of
all these gifts would render them  disgusting.  We must




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            30o
have suspense, uncertainty, and difficulty, as a zest to suecess; and, like Alexander the Great, who gave away every
worldly possession for the pleasure of exertion and the pro.
raises of hope, I think the Christian must feel that not only
is hope the best part of every temporal object, but the worthlessness of all present possessions without it is a strong emblem how little we should gain if the whole world were our
own, without that hope which reaches beyond it, and can
never be fully realized here.  There is an aching void in
every heart until the love of God be implanted within, and
then every affection and desire has an ample field for
exercise."
Matilda resolutely detached her thoughts from any subject of immediate interest which would have naturally engrossed them; she fblt how true it is, that "en songeant
qu'on doit oublier, on s'ex soztvient;" and being accustomed to
exercise a despotic government over her own mind, she
opened some of her favorite books, the gifts of Lady Olivia,
and became so completely absorbed in the study, that it
caused a start of surprise when the gong sounded some
hours afterwards for luncheon.  \When Matilda hastened
into the drawing-room, Miss Clifford had reached her final
cadence, Miss Marabout performed her parting smile over
the Comic Annual, the Miss Montagues replaced the little
ornamental purses which they were working into small
mother-of-pearl work-boxes, and the whole party seemed
reviving with the prospect of at last finding something to
do.  Sir Alfred stood at the window, discussing with Sir
Richard and Mr. Grant some arrangements for his election
on the following day, when Eleanor, who thought herself
privileged to interrupt any conference, joined the trio, and
exclaimed, looking out at the snow, which was now falling
in almost a solid mass, and undulating in graceful wreaths
along  the park —" What a delightful day  this is, Sir
Alfred!I"
"Charming indeed!-suppose we try a walk!"
"Agreed.-I have the greatest mind to take you at your
word."
"I shall certainly venture as far as the stables soon; so
if you choose to come I can't help it."
L" How very pressing! It is impossible to resist such importunity, therefore my Esquimaux boots and ermine pelisse
shall be in requisition after luncheon."
"Before, if you please.  My horse always expects me




308                 MODERN SOCIETXY,
precisely at three, and I would not disappoint Vesuvius on
any consideration."
" But luncheon has been already announced, and this is
the only time of day when I ever feel hungry," replied
Eleanor, who, according to the etiquette of young ladies,
professed always a ravenous appetite in the forenoon, and
an utter incapacity of eating at all other meals. "' I should
die of exhaustion in an hour without taking something to
support nature."
"Then our engagement is broken off,"' replied Sir Alfred,
escaping towards the door; "I am not a good waciler."
" But, stop a moment.  You ought to remain, for papa
has ordered his favorite dish this morning-a pie of singed
sheep's head!"
"' Caf you suppose, Miss Fitz-Patrick, that I would remain in the house with such a thing!"-replied he, affecting
a look of disgust, and accomplishing his retreat.  Sir Alfied was soon after seen proceeding from the stables, where
he scarcely stopped a moment, and walking rapidly over a
neighboring eminence, clothed in a large Mackintosh cloak,
boots in which he might have waded dry-shod through the
Spey, and his hat already covered with a canopy of snow.
"' Now. where can he be going?' cried Eleanor. "; Sir
Alfred must have imistaken his way, for that road leads
only to Gowanbank, and one or two wretched little cottages.
I shall certainly have my jest upon his visiting acquaintances at Middenditch, and his leaving a card for Mrs.
Mluckleraith."
"Well, LMiss Howard," said Mr. Armstrong, approaching
Matilda with an appearance of easy and rather patronizing
familiarity, "'it would be bad policy to lose your ship for a
pennyworth of tar.  Have you thought better of what I
dropped lately?'
"' Not more than could be- helped," replied she, dryly. " I
neither wish to consider nor to discuss a subject that is
without remedy."'
"But there is a remedy in my power, if yozu  make it worth
wvhile to produce certain dlocuments which might be forthcoming."
"' Mr. Armstrong! if it is not worth while to act honorably
for conscience' sake, you shall have no inferior inducement
from  me.  A man who could suppress papers which ought
to have been produced, might also be capable of counterfeiting them."




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT,             309
i" You'll repent of this, Miss Howard.  I only wish that
it were possible to be revenged on Miss Fitz-Patrick without serving you,' said he angrily, leaving the room, where
he had _been entirely unnoticed all the morning either by
Eleanor or any of her visitors.
The day of Sir Alfred's election was at length ushered
in by such a continued snow-storm, that the gentlemen had
some difficulty in reaching the scene of action, and Eleanor
was unwillingly obliged to relinquish her hopes of seeing the
member chaired.  As a dinner was to be given at the neighboring town, from whence Sir Richard and his party were
not expected home till late in the evening, the ladies dined
early, and dispersed to their rooms, having agreed, by way
of variety, to have good appetites, and to take a severe tea at
ten o'clock, when their friends from the hustings promised to
attend also.
On Matilda's coming down at the appointed hour, she was
surprised to find a brilliantly illuminated room, decorated
with a profusion of blue ribbons and flowers,-while all the
ladies were ornamented with the same color. Some of them
wore scarfs, and others had large conspicuous bows mingled
with their hair, while each carried an artificial bouquet of
blue convolvulus and forget-me-not.  Eleanor was radiant
with animation, pouring out the tea, and singing with great
vivacity,
"He promised to buy me a bunch of blue ribbons,
To tie up my bonnie brown hair."
"Ah, Matilda!" said she, carelessly, " did not I tell you
our intention of doing honor to Sir Alfred by wearing his
colors! But the omission scarcely signifies, because you
are sure at any rate to be in blue stockings."
"No, Eleanor," replied Matilda, " I only wear that color
in-my eyes, which you do not."
"I see what you mean," cried the heiress, laughing, " Mr.
Grant was talking a great deal of his nonsense to Sir Alfred
this morning about his choosing blue in compliment to some
fair lady, and, of course, you have since been comparing' les
yezax bless et noirs," to the no small disadvantage of the
latter."
Nothing could be more rapturous than the congratulations
with which Sir Alfred and his friends were soon after received, when they entered the room, announcing complete
success. The carriage and four had driven up to the gate




310 0MODEIRN SOCIETY,
covered with favors and surrounded by outriders, most' of
whom were constituents from the neighborhood, who accomr
panied him to testify their respect, and who now dispersed.
Mr. Grant instantly proceeded to give a picturesque and
amusing description of the whole scene, commemorating all
the jests cracked, and the glasses broken, with infinite humor,
while he took off most effectively the oratory of several
spokesmen who had that day professed themselves, with every
appearance of veracity, " unaccustomed to public speaking."
Matilda forgot her own indignation at Eleanor's malicious
remarks and omissions, in the amusement with which she
now listened to Mr. Grant's lively sallies, who gave a diverting account of a deputation which he had headed to the opposite party, on which embassy Colonel Pendarvis mentioned
that he had been forcibly detained to enliven a very dull
circle. On his return to do duty for Sir Alfred, Sir Richard
laughingly related that an unaccountable onmmission having
been made in the list of toasts, where " The Croupier" was
entirely omitted, Mr. Grant got up, and after a long and appropriate panegyric, proposed his own health, which had been
immediately drunk with enthusiasm.
It was universally whispered that Sir Alfred made an appearance brilliant beyond example, but no one felt at liberty
to venture the remark within his own hearing, because every
individual present knew his unaffected desire to shun observation, and that, pre-eminent as his talents were when occasion offered for their exercise, yet he chose to wear them
almost constantly under a cdotino in general society.  Sir
Alfred, however, entered. into the humor of this evening
with more liveliness than he had ever before displayed; and
his dry, sarcastic remarks, and ready wit, formed an enlivening accompaniment to the diverting nonsense of Mr. Grant,
and the playful vivacity of Eleanor, who seemed inspired
with an extraordinary degree of amusing repartee for the
occasion.
Though the eyes of Sir Alfred were lighted up with animation, yet Matilda could not but be conscious that they
softened into a look of interest whenever he addressed herself, and though his voice had now assumed a new tone of
vivacity, it became subdued into an expression of sensibility
when he spoke to her.  The sensitive feelings of Matilda
told her of an obvious change, and that, for the first time,
Sir Alfred adopted the same manner before others which he
had so long done when they were alone. He no longer




OR TIIE MARCH OF INTELLECT.           311
seemed desirous to conceal the preference which had formerly been but hinted.  His first eager look when he entered the
drawing-room  searched for Matilda, it was to her that he at
once advanced with frankness and animation to clainm  her
congratulations, and to her he now invariably turned with a
desire to ascertain bow she felt interested by all that passed,
while he looked with evident admiration at the sparkling
smile and dazzling color which a secret consciousness of his
own attention called into her countenance.
Eleanor at length proposed music, and played, by way of
commencement, the  "Blue Bells of Scotland," while Matilda
proceeded, as had been her usual custom lately, to the library
with Sir Richard, where, with the door open to catch a distant sound of the piano, he liked her to read the Times and
Standard, as she had long ago insisted on supplying the
place of his'spectacles occasionally, and he now preferred
hearing her always to the use of his own not very available
eyes.  On this occasion, however, his niece had scarcely
been seated, and begun a few preliminary remarks of her
own, when Sir Richard looked restlessly round, and then
started up, saying, with a good-humored laugh atnd an air of
exquisite enjoyment,
" Many thanks, my dear girl, for your obliging intentions,
but we must be better employed to-night.  I have promised
to relinquish my seat this evening, and not to hear one word,
because a friend of mine is impatient to obtain an audience
himself."
Matilda scarcely looked round before Sir Richard had vanished, and Sir Alfred Douglas stood in his place.  There
was agitation and embarrassment in his manner, but yet the
expression paramount in his countenance seemed to be
pleasure, which might be traced in his heightened color and
animated smile, when he seated himself beside Matilda,
whose cheek became pale and red alternately with surprise
and agitation.
"You have not honored me by wearing the true blue,
Miss Howard!-It is most appropriate to my own feelings
at this moment, being the color of hope, and also of the uncertain sky," said Sir-Alfred, looking earnestly at Matilda.
"Must I consider you as an enemy?"
"Oh impossible!-that is to say, at least,-I-I was not
aware-no one told  me it was custonmary,-or-or expected   7"
"Miss Howard, I never'read any novel yet which could




8312               BMO DERN SOCIRET,
have held together for a single volume, if the parties had
only stated their grievances with ordinary candor, or if
some trumpery secret had not been kept, which ought to
have been told  s allow mle, therefore, to mention, that Miss
Fitz-Patrick herself sugrgested the idea of sporting the blle
cockade or I should never have presumed to ask it, and she
even permitted nie the honor of ordering from  one of lmy
principal constituents in t+he borough, his whole assortmzent
of scarfs and ribbons. which she assured me should be worn
by all who were fiiend!y to my cause.  The natural inference, therefore, oni this occasion might have been very unfavorable to my hopes; but yet, Miss Howard, I did  sot
allow myself to be discouraged.  Was I wrong?  Would
you have refused to wear my colors had you known that the
greatest pleasure I looked for on returning has been to see
you in them?"
Matilda hastily drew off her glove, and, with a modest
smlile, pointed to the torquoise-ring which she usually wore.
r  That. emblem, is, indeed, sufficient," said Sir Alfied,
suddenly seizing the beautiful hand which she had uncovered, and carrying it to his lips. "One small token of goodwill from Matilda Howard would be more dear to me than
that of all the world besides.  Do not withdraw  this precious hand till you have promised to bestow it upon me forever.)"
Matilda started in astonishment, and gently drew back.
with involuntary  confusion, at a declaration so instantaneous, but no reply was necessary, for Sir Alfred continued
to speak with agitation and rapidity. -" No heart can conceive, Miss Howard, with what impatience this momlent has
been longed for, when I might at last divulge' my whole
feelings, and ask if they are returned.  Sir Francis knew
my secret long since, but I had been surprised into a promise that for one year these hopes should be hid from  yourself.  My fortune was ample, but the wealth of Croesus can
scarcely satisfy a parent's ambition.  Mine saw only one external difterence betweea you and your cousin —she imnagined it possible I might ch4snge!  She did not know that
there is nothing transient or capricious in my attachment,
which principle and inclination have rooted with a depth
and firmness never to be altered.  Aware that this election
mlust bring me into your cousin's society here, mny mother
made it her last request that the contest should be finished
before my heart became known to you.  Could I refuse 




s R THE MAROH O.F YITELLEOT.'1
She mnre:ant it in kindness, yet who could conceive the dif'
ficulty it entailed on mle   I I did not even foresee it myself!
The apprehensica never. e'atered my thoughts, that we 3iighbt
fbe in the same house,-tha.t I should see you continually,
an object of admiration to others,-that I should be obliged
Io veil nmy own heart, and pursue an equivocal line of conduct, and that, with the perpetual fear of being misinterpreted, I should still be obliged to keep silence.  But suchA
silRenco as'mine could scarcely be mistaken for insensibility,"
added Sir Alfred, with a conscious smile.  "I can scarcely
claini the merit of having preserved it,-you must have
understood Ime.  You must have seen that from the very
first day we met, my honor was pledged,-that time had
not effaced the impression you once made on my heart, and
that absence could not diminish it.  Let me hope, since I
was not then repulsed, you will listen to me favorably now.
I do not ask you to speak.  I see you cannot; but my desire is to be allowed an opportunity,-an early opportunity
to plead my own cause,-to explain myself more-fully,-to
tell you that my utmost endeavor in life would be to merit
your affection."
Sir Alfred paused a single moment, and then added, in a
voice of persuasive eloquence —" Yet, Matilda, if you could
but grant one word or look, to assure me that I have not
loved in vain,-that every cherished hope of my heart shall
be realized,-that you consent to double all the joys of my
future life, and to share in all its sorrows, let the suspense
of months be terminated now,-let hope be changed into
certainty, and promise that you will at least endeavor to
love me,-that  you will one day consent to become mine
forever. "
Matilda looked up for a moment, and words could not
express more tenderness and ingenuous modesty than did
her young and lovely countenance. With all her natural
frankness she placed her hand in Sir Alfred's, and covered
-her eyes, overpowered with agitation, while she hung her
averted head, and tears coursed each other down her cheeks
Sir Alfred clasped Matilda's hand in his own, and there
was deep and solemn emotion mingled with the tenderness
of his manner, for language would have been feeble compared with the eloquence of silence.  He kept the hand
which had now become his own, while a pause of some
moments ensued; and he had the delicacy and consideration not even to look at Matilda, while both knew that their
t14




814                 MODEIN SOCIETY,
feelings were mutually understood.  A union of confidenee
and affection was now established between them, more than
that of friendship or love, which timne could never dissolve, and which death itself might suspend, but not finally
terminate.
"What are you two about here ";' exclaimed Eleanor,
hastening unexpectedly into the library, while Matilda, at
the same moment, darted off in an opposite direction.
" Sir Alfred, I am come to secure your first frank as a
trophy, which my correspondent shall return immediately,
that it may be framed and hung up in the library, or form
the commencement to a splendid collection of autographs.'
" You shall have all the other nine, Miss Fitz-Patrick,
but my first frank is previously engaged to go on an embassy of great importance," replied Sir Alfred, rising, while
he endeavored to conceal, by a rallying tone, his own extreme emotion.  "i Having claimed the kind congratulations
of our friends this evening already, I cannot deny myself
the pleasure of saying, Miss Fitz-Patrick, that, before long,
it is my fervent hope and expectation to receive as many
good wishes on an occasion of still greater importance, in
which the happiness of mily life has long been involved."
Eleanor gazed at Sir Alfred with surprise, and observing
how much he seemed agitated, she colored and looked down
with an air of expectation, not entirely devoid of embarrassment.
" You must have been long since aware of my ardent
attachment," continued Sir Alfred, hurriedly. "It has been
obvious to others less interested.  Sir.Richard mentioned
the subject to me this morning, when I was happy enough
to obtain his concurrence."
" Rather premature," said Eleanor, blushing.
"My friend Grant also discovered my sentiments long
since, and therefore I cannot but wonder that they should
have entirely escaped your notice, because it appeared as if
every moment must have betrayed me to such penetration
as Miss Fitz-Patrick's.  All necessity for concealment, however, is now at an end, and it is with pride and pleasure I
announce that your cousin has this moment pledged her
affections to me.  Need I say that not a wish of my heart
remains ungratified?"
For an instant Eleanor turned pale as death.  Her lips
became compressed, her eyes fixed and dilated, her whole
aDtuteon gnu   seemed to undergo a momentary Gonvulion.




IOi TIHE MARCH Ot INTLLErCYo         38!5
She passed her hand over her face, and remained silent.
At length pride restored her presence of mind, and making
a strong effort of self-command, she turned to Sir Alfred
with her usual company-smile, saying in a slow-measured
voice, "' I wish you both all the happiness that this world
can give to any one, but that, I fear, is not much."
" We expect.more-far more," replied he, with an expression in which joy seemed to be chastened for the moment
by serious reflection; "who would not pity any man for
gaining the whole world, if he could be satisfied with that!
No, Miss Fitz-Patrick, let us hope that you and I and my
own Matilda, have a better portion in view than any earthly
blessing can supply."
Eleanor looked at Sir Alfred with surprise. She had sometimes before seen reason to suspect his religious principles to
be deep and influential, but her' conjectures were carelessly
considered, until now when fully confirmed.  After Eleanor
that evening found shelter in the solitude of her own dressing-room, a pang shot through her mind as she recalled
these words of. Sir Alfred, and compared what she had once
been herself in principle and feeling, contrasted with what
she was now.
The early impressions of childhood, so long extinguished,
were for an instant revived while, breathing a deep sigh
of humiliation and regret, she retraced the past.  Many a
thought which had slumbered unheeded in Eleanor's mind
for years, now forced itself into remembrance, and wrung
her heart in solitary anguish. Religion actually appeared
in a new light, when she saw it viewed and acknowledged as
the first object in existence by a person of such distinguished
consideration as Sir Alfred, for it is singular what powerful
effect is produced by personally meeting any one highly
gifted, and yet under the influence of Divine truth. Eleanor
always knew, like every one else, that the greatest as well as
the best of men had been Christians-that Milton, the first
of poets, Newton, the chief of philosophers, Addison, the
most eleant of moral writers, Johnson, the profoundest
of scholars, Bacon, the most learned of statesmen, and a
thousand other illustrious names. derived their greatest eminence and their only happiness from the profession of a deep
and holy veneration for Christianity; but it was new to her
when she beheld one who possessed everything in life to
render it attractive, and whom she had been accustomed to
see the object of universal admiration and respect, consider



316                 Mci'OMSr SOCIETTi
ing the whole as an idle dream, except inasmuch as he was
preparing to leave those fleeting objects, and to awake in
eternity.
Miss Fitz-Patrick hastily tore out the camellias from
amidst her clustering curls, and sat for hours before a dressing-table, with her fingers passed through her hair, and her
eyes and throbbing forehead pressed upon her hands, while
her mind strayed in a wild wilderness of tumultuous emotions; but still, as she tried to collect her scattered faculties,
the young heiress could not but recollect with what incredulity she once listened to the heartfelt opinion of Lady Olivia,
that, even in this life people are happy, whatever their circumstances may be, exactly in proportion as their thoughts
are devoted to God.  Those affectionate admonitions of her
first and kindest friend had long been overlooked; and while
she thought with bitter regret of them, she also remembered
her subsequent treatment of Matilda with keen self-reproach.
Memory seemed to have become an enemy which would do
nothing but upbraid her, while for a moment she became
conscious that had such ingratitude and unkindness been
foretold in former years, her exclamation would have been
like that of Hazael, "Is thy servant a dog 2" Her thoughts
reached back into the long vista of past days, when nature.
feeling, and principle all combined with the exercise of natural affection to render her happy and to lead her on in a
course of devotion and peace.  Eleanor's heart was smitten
by the contrast, and a crushing sense of misery weighed
down her spirit. The rich gifts of fortune appeared now in
their native insignificance compared with those of nature;
for friendship, affection, peace, contentment, and cheerfulness seemed all to have been sacrificed in a mere delirium
of vanity, while she felt what a mirage of the desert had
misled her.  " Oh! that it were with me as in the days that
are past!" thought she bitterly; " bhut more easily might I
gather the scattered leaves of this fallen flower, and restore
them to life and beauty, than hope to become the same simple, unsophisticated girl I once was. Nature intended me
for better things, and providence blessed me with peculiar
advantages, but all is madly thrown away, and I will notfor I dare not-reflect or attempt to retrace my steps."




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.             31 7
CIIAPTER XXIII.
"Hearts are not flint, yet flint is rent,
Hearts are not steel, yet steel is bent."
NEXT morning, before breakfast, Matilda entered Eleanor's room, and, with all her usual tact and delicacy, announced her own happy prospects, as if they had indeed
been like sisters, and that it formed a subject of mutual interest and confidence between them.  Not a trace seemed to
remain in her memory that her cousin had mistaken the
nature of Sir Alfred's intentions, nor did she seem to entertain a suspicion that anything could arise but sympathy and
good wishes from the friend of her childhood.  Miss FitzPatrick was melted and overcome by her cousin's considerate
kindness; but pride still prevailed, and rather than show
any emotion liable to be mistaken for regret or disappointment, she answered, during the few moments that Matilda
remained, with coldness and constraint, which rendered it
a mutual relief when the interview was terminated.
Miss Howard started with surprise to discover, during
breakfast, how universally Sir Alfred had announced the
news of their engagement, for the usual reserve of his character had apparently vanished, while- Sir Richard was evidently rehearsing all the sly allusions, hints, and inuendoes
which abound on such occasions. It seemed on this day as
if the whole party had changed characters. Eleanor was
pensive and silent, her spirits were evidently forced, and a
slight nervous quiver of the lip gave evidence of internal
agitation.  Mr. Grant seemed also grave, and glanced occa-ionally at Eleanor's countenance with an expression almost
rmounting to pity, so fully had he been impressed with the
idea that Miss Fitz-Patrick was secretly attached to his
friend. There appeared a degree of emnpressezment in his attentions now, beyond what he ever testified formerly, but yet
Eleanor became thoroughly conscious, that these cares were
for her sake entirely, not for his own-that. the cloud which
agitated his spirits was one in which she had no share, and




8 108               MODERN SOCIETY,
that, while anxiously desirous to promote her happiness, his
feelings were no longer dependent on her caprice.  It seemed
to Eleanor as if everything in life had been transformed
around her, and when, after breakfast, Sir Alfred led Matilda into the library, she hastily retreated to her own room,
and in solitary retirement gave vent to every bitter emotion
which was at war within her breast, where not a single
source of comfort presented itself, to which she might turn
for relief, in brooding over past events and present circumstances.  It would have been difficult for any one, and impossible for Eleanor, to analyze her complicated sensations;
but there arose an intense and prevailing sense of wretchedness in her mind, while silently weeping such tears as are
seldom shed but once. For a moment she acknowledged, that
Matilda merited happiness, while she was herself unfit to be
the chosen companion of one so singularly gifted as Sir Alfred, and Eleanor felt humbled by the contrast of her own
mind and heart with her cousin's.  Yet, while conviction
struggled for the mastery over envy and mortified pride,
there rankled a feeling deeper than all, which pierced to the
inmost recesses of her spirit, when the belief became inevitable that Mr. Giant also had learned to view her with indifference.  It always hitherto appeared certain to her imagination, that at some time or other there would be a necessity
for choosing between Sir Alfred and her former lover, whom
she fancied that no circumstances could alienate.  Though
grander features of character in the one had dazzled and almost captivated Eleanor for a time, yet in, all the suppositions scenes with which she frequently beguiled an idle
hour, it invariably happened that the preference was given
to Mr. Grant.  She generally caused him to suffer agonies
of imaginary suspense, and made the concession of accepting him an obligation which could -never be sufficiently appreciated; but still an interview had been so frequently
rehearsed, and arranged on her own pattern, that it seemed
incredible to think it might not perhaps take place in actual
reality. If anything more trying than another could have
been added to present mortification, it was the consciousness of Matilda being preferred; and in remembering her
own ungenerous conduct to her cousin, she thought of it all
with shame and contrition, while the very possibility of
making any acknowvledgment or reparation seemed now out of
the question.
Eleanor's mind was thus tortured by vain regrets and




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.             819
temporary remorse,when these painful ruminations were interrupted by the announcement that Dr. Murray had called,
requesting to see her immediately, and alone.  Anything
seemed to promise relief friom the wretched state of her
present thoughts, and she desired that he should be ushered
into her own boudoir, where they had occasionally met already on parish business.
Thlere appeared an unwonted expression of melancholy
gravity in the eye of Dr. Murray as he entered Elearor's
presence, and his step was lingering and slow, as if unwillPign to hasten the time when lie must speak.  Having observed, after a friendly greeting on both sides, that Miss FitzPatrick seemed unusually languid and pale, he took her by
the hand wit'h a look of benevolent interest, saying he feared
she had suffered materially from her recent perilous adventure on the ice.
"'Oh dear, no!  It was scarcely worth mentioning.  1
might be in danger for a few minutes, but with so many.
friends near, and such prompt assistance; there could be little
cause for serious apprehension."
"' Miss Fitz-Patrick 1" replied he, still preserving a look
of unwonted seriousness, " the issues of life and of death
are in the hands of' Him by whose providential care you
were then preserved.  Had that alarming accident been
foreseen, without its merciful conclusion also becoming
known, think how fervent would have been your prayers
for that safety which now seems a matter of course.  It is
seldom that our thankfulness, after any interposition of this
kind, bears a due proportion to the anxiety which we previously felt; but as the servant of Him. to whom  you owe
every hour of existence, and the many blessings which render it precious, I should claim  and expect to see the most
heartfelt gratitude.  There is much to make life enticing to
you, Miss Fitz-Patrick, but there is yet more to make death
alarming, when we consider how readily you acknowledge
that the rich bounties of Providence have only served to
estrange you from the Giver.  I could have wished, I had
almost believed that, when. snatched, as it were, from the
borders of the grave, you might have considered seriously
that important purpose for which a new lease of life had
been granted.  Of that, however, let us speak hereafter;
but the business on which I come this morning calls for ur
gent haste.  You are aware, Miss Fitz-Patrick, that the




~8 20               MODERN SOCIETY,
unfortunate young girl who was a short time in your servlwc
is now no more    "
"Dead?" interrupted she, turning pale, and sinking into
a seat.  "Surely, Dr. Miurray, you cannot mean to say she
is actually dead?"
The venerable clergyman mournfully shook his head,
while Eleanor sat for a moment transfixed with anmlazement.
and then, burying her face on 7the arnm of the sofa, she remained silent during several minutes.' She is supposed to have drowned herself some days
ago," added Dr. Murray, in a subdued voice, and with ev;i
dent emotion.  "; We may trust that the poor girl was not;
a responsible being at that time, for there is unquestionable
evidence of her mind having been in a state of frightful de.lirium, brought on by distress.  It is deeply to be deplored
that more caution was not used before her being abandoned
to such extreme suffering;  and, on the part of Nanny's aged
mother, who seems now at the point of death, I come to you,
Miss Fitz-Patrick, this morning.  The only remaining wishl
of old Janet's heart is, that her daughter's character may be
cleared before she expires.  The poor woman clings to her
belief of Nanny's innocence, but she wishes to die in the
knowledge of it. Her last request then is, that you will
now investigate those accusations against her child, in the
hope that I may return, before her eyes are closed forever,
with the consoling assurance that all is done that can be
done to clear the memory of her departed daughter fromi
infamy."
"Dr. Murray," said Eleanor, rising, and speaking with
great effort, "'it appears to me this morning, as if, in the
language of David, I might say,' My sins have found ume
out!' Never till this moment did I duly reflect upon my
conduct to that girl —but now-I see it as you see it.  I
dare not take time to consider that, nor any one of the
thousand things which are crowding into my mind.  To
you, Dr. Murray, who would not speak with confidence?  I
shall do so hereafter, when you will be benevolently interested for one who little deserves it from you, or firon  an,,
person. Of all the tortures it would be possible to endure,
I believe the greatest might be to read over my past life as
it was, and to be told by my own heart and conscience what
itWought to have been-to see the unnecessary perplexities l
have plunged Into —the friends I have alienated —the unm
known miseries I have occasioned-and the opportuniti.es of




OR THE MARCH OF'INTELLECTo.8
doing good that I have maissed.  Ohl Dr. Murray. I cannot
but think, when in a future world all this is revealed to us
at once, how the very best will stand speechless and amazed.
Through infinite mercy it is never too late for repentance
here, and certainly it can never be too soon. I shall at least
show one proof of readiness to make any reparation in my
power to the unfortunate mother.  Poor Nanny! she is beyond the reach of all that compunction and sorrow can suggest; but I shall accompany you to Gowanbank myself.
Meanwhile this is no time to speak, for I must act.  Let us
consult my father what immediate steps shall be taken."
Eleanor instantly rung the bell, and sent a message for
Sir Richard; but on being informed that he had gone out,
she requested to see Mr. Grant, whom, as a justice of the
peace, she at once resolved to consult: No sooner did he
obey her summons, than with perfect candor, and no extenuation, she hastily recapitulated every circumstance relating to Nanny, taking upon herself the whole blame, and
ending by an earnest entreaty to both gentlemen, that whatever plan occurred for immediate investigation, might be
instantly put in action. A hectic spot burnt on Eleanor's
cheek, while the rest of her countenance remained pale as
marble-there was the hurry and rapidity of nervous excitement in her manner,-her lips were strongly compressed to
conceal emotion, and her eye spoke a language of grief and
anxiety so unknown there before, that Mr. Grant felt surprised and affected to observe such a sudden change.
Dr. Murray first suggested that Mrs. Gordon might be
desired to assemble the servants, which was done without
delay in the library, where they had on a former occasion
been summoned to family prayers, and therefore all attended
without hesitation or uneasiness.  Eleanor then hastened
into the drawing-room, and passing by Miss Marabout in
silence, she advanced to her cousin,.who was standing at a
window with Sir Alfred, and, unable to speak, she took Miss
Howard by the hand and made a sign for her to follow.
Matilda asked no questions; she did not even express by a
look the astonishment which it was impossible not to feel at
observing Eleanor's agitated manner, but assuming an external appearance of composure, she took her cousin affectionately by the arm, and accompanied her in silence to the
library, where they sat down together in an obscure corner,
while she looked round with wonder and apprehension to
ascertain the cause of Eleanor's distress.
14*




322 2MODERN SOCIETY,
Dr. Murray then approached to where the servants were
placed, and passing his mild benevolent eye-along the line,
in which they stood, he fixed it with penetrating earnestness on Pauline, and a solemn pause ensued. It now became evident to all, that they were assembled on no ordinary
occasion, while the increasing agitation of Eleanor, and a
look of grave and anxious interest on the countenance of
Mr. Grant, confirmed their conjectures, and caused a general impression of awe."
"I am come, my friends;" said Dr. Murray, "with a mes.
sage to'you all from the chamber of death.  A fellow-creature, now laid in the last agonies of expiring nature, whom
each of us has known, asks for one last gleam of earthly
comfort from you.  Age and infirmity, sickness and grief,
are doing their worst upon her, and yet I would rather at
this moments take her place than be the person who could
willingly cause such affliction, and who would withhold consolation. All the sorrows of life, and all the sufferings of,death, are as nothing compared with remorse; and if repentance be delayed for a few hours it may come too late. That
young and blooming girl who so lately stood amongst you is
now no more, In desperation and sorrow she has hurried
to that awful tribunal where we shall speedily meet; and I
would ask, whether in that hour, when the secrets of all
hearts shall be laid open, none of you will see cause to
lament having occasioned the wretchedness which has ended
thus fatally. If it be so, you must either repent of it in
this world, or repent throughout a hopeless eternity. Nanny
is beyond the reach either of malice or kindness-our very
prayers can no longer avail her-and the place that once
knew her shall know her no more. Yet the broken-hearted
mother seeks for peace, and would find it, were she only
assured that her child never became the guilty criminal
which has been said-that she did not forget the principles
of her early days, and that before she lost her reason, she
was incapable of flagrantly violating conscience. That her
heart had been allured into vanity-that her mind was
unstable, and that her last act is one which every Christian
must shudder to contemplate, the dying woman feels ready
to acknowledge; yet she cherishes a hope that you might
exculpate this poor girl's memory from any more aggravated
crime.  Is there one amongst you, then, who will say
whether the most trifling circumstance can be mentioned
which might give peace to her expiring parent? If you are




tO aTr  M ama  oF INTELLTeO.          823
moved by the thought of a mother's agony- if you are
touched by the remembrance of her young and lovely daughter, brought at once to shame, insanity, and death —I
solemnly adjure you to confess whether private malice, or
personal guilt, induced you to blast the good name of this
unfortunate girl, or whether you believe any one else to
have done so jblsely?"
Silence reigned throughout the room for some minutes,
while every eye instinctively turned on Pauline; but though
she trembled and became pale at the mention of Nanny's
death, it seemed evident that nothing which had been said
reached her feelings.  Unable to look any person in the face,
she stole a furtive glance around, and fixing her eyes on vacancy, preserved an impenetrable obduracy of appearance.
"If confession were made now," continued Dr. Murray,
"a we might deal leniently with those who gave such voluntary evidence of repentance-but when legal measures are
once resorted to, as they shall be, we owe it to public justice,
that the law, in all its terrors, be fully enforced.  Many articles of value belonging to Miss Fitz-Patrick are still missing.  Mr. Grant is ready to give a warrant that the house
shall be searched-and before a single individual leaves this
room it must be done.  Let me now appeal to each person
separately, whether anything can be remembered or confessed to bring out the real truth."
Dr. Murray then began'with Mrs. Gordon, and went regularly along the line, patiently and perseveringly asking
every individual what might be remembered which bore upon
the subject- in question, and whether, as far as her knowledge
extended, she believed Nanny to have been guilty of stealing the articles in question, or not.
"Pauline!" said he solemnly, when her turn came, while
his eye seemed to read her very thoughts, "you, who ought
to know most on this subject, say nothing! Tell me truly,
and you shall never have reason to regret the confession,
was Nanny falsely accused?"
With a strong effort Pauline looked up, but her eye fell
beneath his penetrating gaze, her voice quivered inaudibly,
and in an instant more, she fainted.  Measures were immediately taken for her restoration, while Dr. Murray proceeded
with his inquiries. One of the housemaids had twice seen
Pauline, late at night, near a flower-stand, where some of the
missing ornaments were afterwards discovered; while at that
untimely hour, she professed to have been sent by- Miss




324                 MODnr-m' socmr''r,
Fitz-Patrick to cut the geraniums. Sir Richard's valet, with
many expressions of contrition for having maliciously concealed the circumstance so long, acknowledged that lie had
met her dressed in the shawl which Nanny was accused of
wearing on that evening; and another lmaid produced a
skeleton key which had been found on the floor of the lady'smaid's room, a short time previously, and it tallied exactly
with that of Sir Richard's cabinet.  Still, on recovering
Pauline strenuously denied all knowledge of the robbery, and
even smiled when the threat was repeated of having a strict
search immediately instituted. Not a doubt could remain
on the mind of any one present that she was guilty, but Matilda almost despaired of the truth being elicited at this time;
and Eleanor covered her face with her hands in agonized
conviction of her maid's criminality, and yet completely at
a loss how to proceed.  Dr. Murray himself paused in silent
perplexity, when Mr. Grant unexpectedly walked forward,
assuming in his countenance an expression of tremendous
import.
"Pauline!" he said, with grave severity, " I am a nagistrate of this county.  If immediate confession is not made
where those jewels are concealed, I shall make you disgorge
your ill-gotten gains, like a leech on a plate of salt."
This oration, so suited to the capacity of his audience,
had an instant and powerful-effect.  The guilty woman
rushed for protection to Mrs. Gordon, who sternll  threw
her off with angry reproaches, hoping she might be instantly
consigned to justice. Alarmed and overcome, she then requested that some person would accompany her to an old
tool-house in the garden, where, beneath several sacks of
seeds, appeared a small box, containing not only all the trinkets which were missing, but a quantity of money in silver.
Pauline afterwards confessed the perfect innocence of Nanny
and her own criminality, declaring that her first irresistible
inducement to steal originated from Miss Fitz-Patrick's
carelessness, who left money frequently loose in her dressingbox, or carried it in a reticule, to which any one could have
constant access.
No sooner was Eleanor convinced of Nanny's innocence
than she insisted on accompanying Dr. Murray and Mr.
Grant to Gowanbank.  It seemed a relief to act rather than
to think; and leaning on Matilda, she walked there in silent
meditation. No sooner did Miss Fitz-Patrick reach the cottage, than, without losing a moment, or in the slightest de




ORt'TiI  MARCH OF iNTILLECITo EY.
gree palliating her own conduct,' she shortly and hurriedly
related to Martha, arnd to the aged sufferer herself, all that
had passed, earnestly and repeatedly assurinlg them that
Nanny's character seemed fully exculpated now in the eyes
of every one. Matilda felt alarmed to observe the convulsive
workings of old Janet's countenance while she listened, and
the death-like hue of her cheek; but Eleanor, invariably the
creature of impulse, could not be stopped, until, having
reached the conclusion of all that could be said, she sat
down by the bedside and burst into tears.
" Now, Janet," added she, in. a faltering voice, " Nanny
can never grant me pardon in this world,-but will you? —
I have caused her death,-I have hastened yours,-and embittered the remainder of nmy own days, —but still, as a
Christian, forgive mne,-pray for me, —ask that I may receive such mercy as I never showed. that my whole heart
may be changed, until I abhor myself, even more than I
do now. Speak'without delay, and give me the only consolation which a remembrance of this hour can ever afford."
The old woman feebly moved her hands, and a prayer
trembled on her lips, which seemed to be one of thankfulness
and praise."
" All is peace now!" she said in a voice of calm resignation. " My sight -has failed,-my strength is fast departing,
-and my voice will soon be heard no more; but I would'speak comfort to you while breath remains. There are no
distinctions now,-worldly honors, and worldly afflictions
accompany us to the borders of eternity, but they leave us
there.  O think, Miss Fitz-Patrick, when this hour shall
come, will all the enjoyments of life prepare you to meet it,
as sorrow has prepared me? Then do not regret that my
Iup of trial has been full, —nor that an event like this makes
you pause to reflect.  What are we all so busy and anxious
about? —This is the end of all!  -"
Janet now raised herself on the bed, and held out her hand,
apparently intending to give Eleanor her blessing, when a
deep sob stopped her utterance, she shuddered, and suddenly
her jaw stiffened, her eyes fixed, and in the very act of supplication she expired,.
When it became evident that all was over, Mr. Grant led
Eleanor, overpowered by the shock, into another room,
where, after some time, Dr. Murray followed, leaving.Martha
and William to pay the last duties,  Ever ready to take any
opportunity of impressing on his people how short a passage




826.                Idil~f)H CdMODERN SOCIETY,
this life is to eternity, Dr. Murray proposed, before leaving
Gowanbank, that they should all unite in prayer; and seeing that Eleanor's conscience needed not now to be awakened, he carefully avoided whatever might be peculiarly
painful to her feelings.  It was his rule, ill addressing the
hearts of others, never so much as to remember what were
their individual offences, but to set before all men alike the
guilt and danger of every human soul, as well as the absolute necessity of repentance, faith. and sanctification.  On
this occasion his prayer and address were deeply affecting
so that Eleanor, unable to speak, took the arm of Mr. Grant
and left the cottage in melanicholy silence. Observing, when
they reached home, the setting sun shedding its refulgence
on distant clouds and hill-tops, she paused, and for the first
time addressed her companion.'On such an evening as this, Mr. Grant, my mother died:
and it would have been well for myself and others if I had
not survived   There was sorrow then, but it was without a
sting of self-reproach.  She departed in the blessed hope of
rising again, and pointed to that glorious sun as the daily
memorial of our death and resurrection.  Many a day it
has shone brightly on me since; but you know, and have
seen, what a change it has witnessed on me, and that, forgetful of every serious thought, I have lived for the present
hour as if this were my eternal home. I could wish, even
now, that my sun had set like that old woman's, with the
same certainty of rising again in glory."
During that evening Matilda kept close beside Eleanor,
and vainly tried to engage her in conversation, for she
answered absently and indifferently, though with none of
the harshness or sarcasm of manner which had appeared
there formerly. A cloud seemed to have come over all the
party, most of whom were to disperse next morning, and
Miss Fitz-Patrick rose at last, with undisguised satisfaction,
when she found it was time to retire. Unwilling to dwell
on all the painful subjects which assailed her mind, and having never been accustomed to hold serious communion with
herself, she dismissed her maid, and hurried to bed, eagerly
seeking for that repose which might bring temporary oblivion from self-reproach; but sleep was denied her agitated
nerves.
After having tossed in feverish restlessness for several
hours, Miss Fitz-Patrick struck her repeater, for the twen
tieth time, and found that it was three o'clock. The smoul




O1r THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.            327
dering ashes were expiring in the grate, and a dim  rush
light feebly sent its checkered shadows around —all was still
and silent as the grave, when Eleanor's attention became
suddenly and fearfully attracted towards the door of a distant closet. It seemed to be slowly opening, and a tall female figure appeared there.  Emerging from the obscurity,
she noiselessly approached towards the fire, where, silently
stooping over its dying embers, she extended her fingers
above them, as if for warmth, while her hair fell in large,
dishevelled masses upon her face and shoulders.  Petrified
with horror and amazement. Eleanor seemed-neither to move
nor breathe, but became stiffened with fear.  Half-raised on
her elbow, and transfixed to the spot, her eyes were fastened
on the strange apparition with more than mortal apprehension. It seemed to Eleanor's alarmed imagination as if a
lifetime elapsed while she gazed with awe at this. mysterious
and motionless figure.  Unable to endure suspense any
longer, she at length, by a powerful effort of resolution,
stretched out her hand to the bell, and rung it with almost
frantic violence.  Instantly a fearful shriek arose, while the
object of her terror sprung forward towards the bed, and,
bursting into a wild, hysterical laugh, she fell on her knees
before Eleanor, who recognized, with astonishment and dismay, the haggard countenance of Nanny.
When, in reply to a loud and repeated summons from
Miss Fitz-Patrick's bell, several servants rushe:l into the
room, they found her stretched on the bed in a fainting fit,
while, fixed and motionless as a corpse by her side, stood
the unfortunate maniac, her hands clasped, her eyes glazed,
and her features sharpened with suffering.  How she had
stolen into the house, or where she had subsisted during the
period of her disappearance, could never be afterwards discovered, but her wasted figure and emaciated countenance
bore melancholy testimony how greatly she had endured.
Nanny was instantly removed, and medical attendance
summoned, while Matilda devoted herself to the care of her
cousin, whose feverish pulse and agitated appearance were
such as to cause extreme solicitude. Miss Fitz-Patrick lay
for several hours with her eyes half-closed, and every effort
to soothe or restore her seemed vain. She sighed often and
deeply without speaking, and only once turned feebly to
Matilda, and took her by the hand, whispering, in accents
of emotion,' Let us be thankful that, at least, she is not
dead!" Miss Howard pressed her hand, and kissed her




828  0DERN SOOCIETr
cheek, in token of sympathy. but she again relapsed into
painful, and evidently affecting runlination.
On the following day, Miis Murray, who had heard of
Nanny's unexpected restoration, arrived at Barnard Castle,
and obtained leave for her being immediately conveyed to
Gaeifield, where, under careful superintendence, she entei'tained a sanguine hope of bringing her back to composure
and recollection.  Meantime, Eleanor requested to see Miss
Murray, and a long conversation ensued. Miss Fitz-Patrick
then felt the influence of a mind which, though feeble in
itself, had been strengthened by Divine teaching, and by
Christian consistency. She wondered to think that her aged
companion could have ever appeared otherwise than venerable, and deserving of the highest respect, while she listened to her clear views of Gospel truth, and to her gentle,
admonitorShints for the future.  Her heart seemed to be
melted with sorrow and remorse, which were expressed with
a degree of freedom and candor, which could not have
been shown to any one less experienced, or less indulgent, and Miss Fitz-Patrick -found relief from having any
friend to whom her mind might be so unreservedly opened.
At length Eleanor suddenly announced an intention of
rising to join her friends in the drawing-room, though every
imaginable persuasion was used to prevent her. She seemed
actuated by some powerful influence, and merely said, in
answer to Matilda's entreaties, " I shall exert for to-daymany of our visitors are to leave this house-and after that,
nothing will remain for me in this world that is worth a
thought.  I may then reap all the misery that I have sown,
and even you must allow it is desei'ved.'
There was fever in Eleanor's eye, and hectic on her cheek,
when she appeared, and it seemed vain to attempt any disguise of the deep despondency which weighed on her spirits.
She neither eat nor spoke during luncheon, while her visitors seemed at a loss how to act.  Lady Montague and her
daughters were now about to take their final departure, and
Mrs. Clifford had an engagement to be absent for some
days.  Sir Richard, meantime, stood at the fire in vehement
altercation with Colonel Pendarvis, on discovering that hWi
britschska had arrived at the door to carry off himself and
Major Foley. - Their leave of absence was within a week of
being out, but still the hospitable Baronet tried to drive a
hard bargain for that additional period, gradually letting
down his demand on their time, like a Dutch auction, till he




OiL TrHE MAIACI{ OF INTELLEOT.         329
promised at last to be satisfied with one day more; but even
that was denied him.  Eleanor seemed scarcely conscious of
what passed, but the gallant Colonel had offered her, on the
previous evening, to settle at Barnard Castle for life, and
finding that the proposal was not duly appreciated by the
heiress, he could not remain another hour. For a somewhat
similar reason, Lord Alderby also eluded Sir Richard's
vigilance, and, feeling exceedingly ill-treated, left Barnard
Castle during the previous day, without assigning any reason, or even taking leave, which gave the Baronet a shrewd
suspicion of what had occurred; and extended that conjecture throughout the minds of all who observed his Lordship's sudden exit.
Mr. Grant stood at a window alone, watching the process
of packing Colonel Pendarvis's carriage, and humming the
tune of' Go where glory waits thee," when Eleanor rose
from table, and joined him.
": I understand," she said, " that you also leave us to-day!
and my father mentions, Mr. Grant, that you have some idea
of returning to the Continent!"
" Yes! I intend exploring Greece once more, and getting
up a little sublime melancholy there, after the pattern of
Lord Byron.
Dejected, sad, and lone, and blighted.
More than this I scarce can die!'"
"It is well, Mr. Grant, that you can jest upon grief, for
then it must be lighter than mine.  I have lately caused
such suffering as it makes me tremble to contemplate, and
whatever be my own share now, is deserved. I cannot,
however, take leave of one who has so long continued my
-my friend, without saying, that if ever we meet again,
such a change will have taken place as all who knew me
lately, and could yet continue to feel any interest in me
must have desired."
"Let me candidly acknowledge, Miss Fitz-Patrick, that
in some respects I have thought you spoilt by prosperity,
but when our cup is full it is very apt to intoxicate the
strongest head.  I dare not even answer for my own, if Sir
Evan were to give me a step.  Concerning the alteration
you threaten us with, why, long before my return you will
probably, like all young ladies, have changed your situation
for better or for worse; therefore, as an old, and very sinPere friend, my fervent hope is, that whoever may be happy




830                 MODERN SOCIETY,
enough to obtain the preference, shall prove himself deserving of you —not on account of his rank, his wealth,
or his property, but for his disinterested attachment to
yourstJ:lf
" No, Mr. Grant, that. can never be notw," replied Eleanor, in a tone of deep emotion, which it was impossible to
misunderstand.  I long since alienated the only person on
earth who might have answered your description, or who
could have ever been truly preferred.  While I live, no
other shall supply that place."
Before Mr. Grant could answer, or look round, Eleanor
vanished, and, while he was yet retracing with surprise the
few words she had said, and the undisguised agitation with
which she had spoken, Sir Richard impatiently beckoned
him to join in an excursion to the stable.  There, for the
fiftieth time, an elaborate discussion ensued upon martingales and patent bridles, fast-trotting and leaping, spavins
and broken knees.
" I'll tell you what it is, Grant!" cried the Baronet, seeing his companion's eye vacantly fixed for several minutes
on a dead wall opposite, "you are calculating the height of
that fence, but Mad Totm could clear it perfectly! As for
your own che nut, HstLun  Scaru n, he would go over with
iis legs tied; and I 11 lay a bet that any bullock in my park
could do the same.  For a standing-leap, we might back one
of those clumnsy anillmals against the most thoroughbred
hunter in your stud."
It is wonderful how ignorant people remain of what is
really passing in the minds of their associates.  Sir Richard
concluded a long interview with Mr. Grant, and set out for
his ride of some hours, perfectly satisfied that his companion's
whole heart had been in their recent discussion, while the
other slowly and thoughtfully returned towards Barnard
Castle, to prepare for inuiediate departure.
Meantime Eleanor re-entered the drawing-room, having,
by a great effort, rallied her spirits sufficiently to bid adieu
to her departing guests.  She was conversing with Miss
Charlotte Clifford on Mr. Grant's entrance, and though the
color rushed into her face, and receded as instantlyr again
when he approached, she resolutely conquered all external
agitation, and affected a tone of extraordinary vivacity.' Really these incessant leave-takings are too much for human nature," said she, forcing a laugh.  "Poor Sir Colin's
last farewell nearly overset me.  His old story about Sir




OR THE MARCH O.F INTELLECT.            881
Evan telling his guests that visitors are like fish, good the
first day, tolerable the second, and not to be endured the
third; which served as the preface to an elaborate apology
for having paid so long a visitation here, while I was evidently expected to answer, as of course I did, that he had
been the life of the company!"
"Fletcher's existence at home'must be very strange," observed Mr. Grant.  " I never yet called at his house without
being shown into the drawing-room, where he is to be found,
seated on a chair, with his back to the window, his arms
folded, his legs crossed, and not a thing to see or to do. Not
a book, fior an inkstand, nor a newspaper —neither dog, cat,
nor bird, to enliven solitude."
H is thoughts must be less intolerable to himself than
those of some people I know," replied Eleanor, mournfully;
"' but, after all, such a life reminds one of a wild beast in a
menagerie, more than of a rational being, who has talents
and affections to exercise.  It is wonderful to what a level
men sometimes degrade themselves, not merely to animal,
but actually to vegetable life."
" Yet in society no one is more sociably inclined than Sir
Colin, which causes one to wonder the more how he makes
it out alone I" said Mr. Grant.  "Everything that passes
through his mind must be spoken to the first listener, fur he
has no power of mental reflection. If he has imet an acquaintance, or mislaid a letter, or been annoyed with his valet, or
traced a figure in the clouds, or a face in the fire, it must all
be conmmunicaied at our club to the nearest person.  One of
Sir Colin's most unbearable inflictions, however, remains to
be noticed. When any person, on whose good-nature he can
entirely depend, happens to be particularly busy, perhaps
scribbling some troublesome letter of condolence or congratulation, or reading a book of more than ordinary interest,
his great delight is, on these occasions, to plant himself
close by, newspaper in hand, while he intrudes little paragraphs on their notice perpetually. I watched Miss Howard
suffering under the infliction this morning, in passing through
the library, and it might have made an owl die of laughing.
She seemed writing against time to catch the post-we all
know that her letters are not of every-day interest, and she
lad evidently secured a swarm of franks from  Sir Alfr'ed.
who was writing also.  Sir Colin began with calling your
cousin's attention to an alarming fire in a gas manufactory,
where happily no lives were lost-then followed the particu.




s3ai2 0)MODERN SOCIETY,
lars of an unfortunate climbing-boy sticking in a chimney,
and of an Irish murder, with all the usual circumstances,he next proceeded to several advertising panegyrics upon
new books, and was in full career through the prospectus of
a Newcastle railway, when Martin paraded in with the postbag for letters.  I observed Miss Howard hurriedly seal the
only cover she had time to fill, while Sir Alfred quietly stole
away the remaining franks, altered their dates for to-morrow,
and silently replaced them.  Nothing could be more brilliant
than your cousin's smile of surprise, when she found the
covers all transformed so unexpectedly."
It was a strong proof of Eleanor's being greatly changed,
that she neither seemed piqued nor displeased at the termination of Mr. Grant's narrative, but spoke- of Sir Alfred's
engagement to  Matilda with an appearance of such real
satisfaction, that it became obvious how mistaken any conjecture must have been which supposed that she had been herself attached to him. Lady Montague and Mrs. Clifford
now successively bid her farewell, but as the hour of Mr.
Grant's intended departure approached, Eleanor's countenance became paler, while she still kept up the farce of
remarkable vivacity.
"Quite a small select party!" cried she, entering the
library with Mr. Giant, to join Sir Alfred and Matilda.
"; We are reduced now to a mere whist party  -If ever a
drtnmmy is wanted, I shall be sure of Mr. Armstrong, who
seems as stationary by our fireside as the fender, and fully
more inanimate.  We hear often in Scotland of a selfcoantaiieed hoase,.but he is the only instance I know of a selfcontained man! It is astonishing, that in the inventory of
fixtures belonging'to this house, he was omitted! I often
wonder what b!ought Mr. Armstrong here, and still more,
whether anything will ever take him away!"
" A chaise and pair shall this very night," said the gentleman in question, emerging from  the deep embrasure of a
window, in which he had been reading; "but, Miss FitzPatrick, it will be one of the darkest days in your life when
I leave this house."'; Then I shall have little reason to lament a want of sunshine," replied Eleanor, -sarcastically.  " Mr. Armstrong,
you have been in the habit of using expressions towards me
lately which are entirely unwarrantable. As the friend of
Sir Philip, and as my father's guest, I'regret that you
should have heard remarks which it would give me pleasure




OR THE 5MARHR OF IHgTELLECOT.         383
to recall, but not on account of any threat or insinuation of
your own, because nothing you say or do can be of the
slightest importance to me."
" No! —indeed!" cried Mr. Armstromg, ironically; and
then changing his tone to one of intolerable anger, he added,
grinding his clenched teeth together, " perhaps, Miss FitzPatrick, I could alter your opinion upon that subject. Possibly you may not be a fixtore here very long yourself!'!"
Eleanor eyed him with a look of cold incredulity and contempt, then sitting down to the harp, she carelessly sung a
few bars of Rode's variations, apparently forgetting the
very; existence of her infuriated guest.  Mr. Armstrong
looked at her for some moments with rising fury.  Suddenly wheeling round; he then darted out of the room, and
as quickly returned, carrying a large packet in his hand.
There!" cried he, hurling it on the table with frightful
vehemence, " you will have it so, and you deserve it! My
brother was your uncle's agent, employed to draw up that
will.  He did so only two months before Sir Philip died,
and it was written in order to cut you off, Miss Fitz-Patrick.
Your satirical wit had not even spared him, and he found it
out.  That deed was dictated in a whirlwind of passion.
Sir Philip forgot to insert those legacies to friends which he
certainly intended, and which were recorded in his previous
settlement. My brother produced only that will which was
to benefit himself and me. On returning from the Continent, I was unwilling to stain his memory by revealing
this.  It seemed probable, also, that Miss Howard, who now
succeeds to everything, would have engaged to compensate
my own losses in doing so, but she played her cards better.
Arnd now, Miss Fitz-Patrick!" added Mr. Armstrong, with
a look of bitter vengeance, which seemed an ample repayment for the disgrace of his previous confession, "' I know
from  Miss Marabout all you have said of me.  She, too,
abhors your satirical temper, and suffers from  it.  I told
her that an ample revenge was in my power. Are you satisfied that it is so?-read that, and say whether I can do
nothing of importance to you?;'
"Silence, Mr. Armstrong!" said Sir Alfred, rising with
an air of authority, while lightning flashed in his eye.
" This must not be — you are in no state of mind to address
Miss Fitz-Patrick — leave the room instantly!"
Saying these words, he calmly proceeded towards the door




834                 MOD1tN  SOCIETY,
with an air of commanding dignity, and throwing it open,
made a signal for Mr. Armstrong to depart.
"Give me my papers, then," cried the enraged man, rising
however, to obey a mandate which he saw it would be irapossible to resist; "I must take back that packet!"
"No!" replied Eleanor, with a look of stern resolution
"these papers belong to me.  Come what may from them,
justice shall be done, and it is not in your option now, Mr.
Armstrong. either to bestow or to withhold it.  There are
witnesses enough here to my having retained this packet;
and, Mr. Grant, I consign it to you, requesting instantly,
and without a moment's delay, to be apprised of its nature
and contents."
" Surely not. now, Miss Fitz-Patrick? wait till Sir Richard returns.  Let your father's agent communicate with
this person,. It is no fit business, apparently, for us to enter upon."
" I never could endure suspense," answered Eleanor, with
a slight hysterical laugh, as Sir Alfred closed the door on
Mr. Armstrong.  ~ When once resolved to undergo anything, if it were the amputation of a limb, every moment
seems an age till it is done."
" Miss Fitz-Patriek," said Sir Alfred, preparing to leave
the room  " let me advise you to postpone all investigation
at present.  Be not rash or imprudent; you have a parent
and guardians to act for you, and in all probability this may
turn out to be some malicious fabrication to serve the purposes of immediate revenge."
"No, Sir Alfred, I fear it is not. On various occasions
hints and inuendoes have been dropt by Mr. Armstrong,
which leads me to suppose that he fully believes his own
statement. Neither my father nor I could understand his
meaning, but now it has become plain enough.  Let me entreat you to remain."
"Not if you intend to proceed without Sir Richard's presence.  It is due to him, as your father and guardian, to be
apprised of the circumstance before those seals are broken.
I need scarcely remind your cousin, too, that as a party
whose interests are apparently involved in this business, she
would do better not hastily to enter upon it."
Miss Fitz-Patrick answered only with a gesture of impatience, and eagerly tore the envelop asunder, while Sir Al
fred withdrew, accompanied by Matilda, as she felt the




OR THE MARCH- OF IN'tELLECT.          335
propriety and delicacy of his suggestion, though sympathy
for Eleanor would have otherwise induced her to remain.' Mr. Grant," said the heiress, unfolding an enormous
sheet of parchment, formally drawn up, and imethodically
sealed with several signatures crowded at the bottom  of
every page, " what am I to think of this?"
" Do not ask me, Miss Fitz-Patrick," he replied, looking
away with an expression of grave regret.
" It would have been well for me, Mr. Grant, and you
know it, if I had never succeeded to this property," said
Eleanor mournfully.' No one can ever imagine all that it
has cost me! my peace of' mind, the affection of those who
loved me most, and every better disposition that I once possessed.  Can you fear, then, to say that I must lose it? The
wretched girl Nanny, who is now perhaps dying, scarcely
felt more misery than I do, for she was free from self-reproach —but when I look at her-when I see Matilda,-andand —think of others who have loved me, whom I Imight have
made happy, and who are deservedly estranged, I do feel
reckless of any future evil, and it almost appears as if I
wished to see'justice dealt upon myself.  Perhaps when
sorrow and humiliation are heaped upon me, I may merit
them less by bearing them aright.  What can any external
privation be oeow. when I can say, from the agonizing experience of my own inward feelings,'a wounded spirit who
can bear!' You saw the old woman expire with words of
forgiveness on her lips, but could I forgive myself!  You
watched her daughter delirious with grief and shame, and
while my senses remain can I forget it'! You observe every
day, every hour, my generous cousin's considerate attention,
but does not that only heaps coals of fire on my head? These
are sorrows!-yet those which strike the deepest can never
be told to any earthly friend! Time, talents, opportunities
lost — all the impressions of my early days!-all the better hopes that might have cheered me now!  It seems
strange, M-r. Grant, why this should be said to you, but old
friendship may justify confidence, and my feelings could
never be either concealed or controlled.. If there were a
Protestant nunnery in this country, my state of mind would
fit me to enter it now, and abjure the world forever."
"Miss Fitz-Patrick!" said Mr. Grant, looking up, from
a state of profound reflection, " I have heard your sentiments with the deepest emotion, and let me trust that, in
ceturn, you will listen to mine. We have known each othoe




& EssorMODanMI  SoCTETY,
from the time when, as a lovely and playful child, you a.p.
peared to my youtliful fancy like a bright vision of atlmost
celestial beauty.  I have contemplated your gradual progress with rising interest, though of'ten, I will acknowledge,
of la.te with feelings of regret.  Who would not'have lamented the destroving influence of flattery and indulgence
on such talents and dispositions as have seldom been equalled.
It is impossible to sla, Miss Fitz-Patrick, when I first began
to love you.  It was my misfortune to do so themn with a degree of ardor and enthusiasllm which made your very faults
become dear to me.  You know all.  You know that though
my attachment had never been declared. it was deep and
strong as any earthly feeling has ever been.  Your sudden
acquisition of wealth raised for the timne a barrier between'
us, because, young and inexperienced as you were, I would
not take advantage of our previous intimacy to establish any
claim upon your affection.  What my sufferings were in departing, no heart need attempt to conceive, for that would be
imupossible! —where honor and principle are at stake, they
must be preserved, though  life itself be the sacrifice! I returned, Miss Fitz-Patrick, and found you, as might have
been fearind, the spoilt child of fortune, whom, as you then
were, I could view with indifference.  My spirit is proud
and independent.  I would not be obliged evea to you.  Miss
Howard was ill-treated, and it appeared unquestionable that
the heart which could be so ungenerous to such a friend
might be equally so to a lover.  It is, impossible for me to
know whether, under any circumstances, I could have ever
become acceptable to you.  I do not even ask the question
now, for what has been said is premature; but were that
change to happen which may render others indifferent, it
light revive many feelings of former days. The chief source
of your altered disposition will then be removed-the barrier
which first divided us would fall-and then, Eleanor FitzPatrick, I would ask to hear my fate.  As we are at present,
I know it already."
Hle was about to withdraw, and bad reached the door,
when Eleanor, in a scarcely audible voice, called him back.
" Mr. Grant!" said she, coloring deeply, and extending
her hand towards him,'" I would rejoice in the loss of every
earthly possession if it restored your affection to what it
WVas."
"Be mine, then, Eleanor!" said he, suddenly clasping her
in his arms; " and come what may, we shall be happy."




Olt THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.           -37
Meantime Matilda had proceeded with Sir Alfred to the
enjoyment of a walk by the river side; and as nothing increases the power of pleasing so much as a consciousness of
success, her conversation never before appeared so richly embellished with the rare fascination of deep feeling, united to
right principle, while she spoke, without effort or disguise,
every passing sentiment of her mind.
"' Matilda!" said Sir Alfred, after many mutual anticipatiops of happiness, "I have purchased lately a small addition
to my property near Douglas Priory, to which it is my impatient desire that you shall accompany me soon. - Try if
it be possible to guess where I thought you could be most
easily induced to go?"
C" an you mean Ashgrove?' exclaimed Matilda, coloring
with eagerness and animation.  "Oh! what happiness!"
added she, observing the smile with which Sir Alfred betrayed that her conjecture was right.  " My utmost wishes
are indeed fulfilled, and that place will be doubly dear to me
now, as a remembrance of your considerate attention.":" Let us hope that I shall always be able to read your
wishe.s, and to anticipate them as successfully.  I know your
love for Ashgrove so well, Matilda, that if I had brought a
bottle of water from the rivulet that dashes past the windows, or even picked the mud off my chariot wheels there,
you would'have preserved. it as a relic."
" Yes! our earliest associations are always delightful! I
have travelled in many lovely scenes since the happy days
that I passed there, but at Ashgrove and Douglas Priory
such remembrances are connected with every shrub, and
every tree, that, in my thoughts, the sun is brighter, the air
is purer, and the birds sing more sweetly amidst those woods
than elsewhere.  In the words bf your own favorite song-'The last rays of feeling and life must depart,
Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart.'"
"It pleases me to think, Matilda, that we shall visit together the early home where all those amiable qualities were
first implanted, which shall form the happiness of my future
life. This world has much to give us now,-it may have
much to take away hereafter, but we shall not forget under'
any circumstances to prepare for a happier state, where
friendship and affection, founded like ours, shall at last become perfect in its nature and unending in its duration."
"The desire of my heart is, Sir Alfred, to be indeed all
15




338                fMODERN SOCIETY,
that you think me, and all that you can continue to love,
but after having so long accustomed myself to banish you
from  my thoughts, how strange it seems that what was
always so difficult, and sometimes impossible, is no longer
necessary.?' 
" And yet, Miatilda, with every pleasure of life there comes
a duty; and for my own part, I now feel that in the purest
and holiest affections of our nature, there may be a danger
of excess.  It seems, as if in every future hour even sorrow
itself might be banished by your presence; for I need scarcely
say that my attachments diverge into few channels, and are
all the deeper where they flow; but while mutual confidence
and love are strengthened by the lapse of years, let it still
be our care to live not only. for each- other, but for the best
interests of all around us, and for the glory of Ilim to whom
our whole hearts belong."




OR1 THE MARCH OF INTELLEOT.           839
CHAPTER XXIV.
"6et ev'ry sorrow cuts a cord,
And urges us to rise."
( SUDDEN jOys, like griefs, confound at first."  Thus it
appeared in the experience of Matilda, while seated at the
window of her own room, in agitated and pleasing meditation
respecting the happy prospects which had suddenly brightened on her path; for still she had that feeling always
attendant on great and unexpected events, that they can
scarcely be real. It softens the blighting anguish of recent
sorrow when our hearts refuse to credit what our senses
have too surely announced,-and it moderates the first intoxication of pleasure when the fulfilment of hope seems yet
but a dream of fancy.  It is long before even happiness itself can make us happy; but for the first time Matilda now
felt at liberty to thinkl to hope, and to feel as her heart
directed, while the expectation of present happiness was
sanctified and enhanced by many serious anticipations' of
duties and trials, in which she should no longer have to act
or to suffer alone, and of the mutual confidence and symlpatliy with which she might hereafter hope to give and to
receive encouragement in the difficult and dangerous struggle of Christian attainment.  The remembrance of her
probable succession scarcely crossed Matilda's mind; for nothing seemed worth a thought connected with woredly objects,'but the consciousness of Sir Alfred's attachment, and the
recollection of all he had said during their recent interview,
while he traced out the origin and progress of his affection,
showing how justly he all along appreciated her motives of
action, and how thoroughly his preference had been founded
on principle, and confirmed  by perfect esteem, added to
youthful enthusiasm.
Matilda's rinid was yet agitated'by emotions unlike the
glassy smoothness and tranquillity of its ordinary state,
when her attention became slightly attracted by a gentle
tap at the door.  Before she could speak, it was slowly




.340               SIODERN SOCIETY'
opened, aud Matilda, looking hastily round, beheld Eleanor
standing near the threshold. Her cheek was pale, her eyes
were downcast, her whole countenance convulsed; and while
her lips quivered with a vain attempt to speak, it was evident that she had not voice to articulate the words which
died away inaudibly on her lips. Matilda rushed forward
and threw her arms round her cousin, embracing Eleanor
with the most fervent and heartfelt 6xpressions of affection
and endearment, while tears fell thick and fast from the eyes
of both.
"' Matilda 1" sobbed Eleanor, 1" I repulsed your affection,
and insulted your feelings, while you were in my power;
and now, when it can never be repaired-when it should
have been your turn to retaliate, I come for pardon.  Wvill
you believe that my repentance is sincere  Can you forget the past, and love me as formerly?  I know  your
generous mind, and that you will neither say a word, nor
think a thought, that could hurt my feelings. Oh, Matilda!"
added she, burying her face on her cousin's shoulder, and
weeping without control, "say that you forgive me-that
you do -not suppose the discovery of this day causes my distress-that all your injuries are buried in oblivion-that for
the sake of our.early attachment, and of the departed
friend who blessed us both, you will believe my repentance,
though late, to be sincere.  Our situations are changed-let
me learn from your kindness a continual lesson how I ought
to have treated you-let me humbly endeavor to acquire
the same spirit with which you bore every trial, and let our
future lives teach me in what way I might have better deserved your friendship."
Eleanor spoke with such rapidity and vehemence that
all Matilda's attempts at interruption were vain, but she
still riveted her arms round her cousin, and wept like herself.
"Dear-dear Eleanor," said she warmly, "if there are.
any trifles in our past intercourse, which either of us might
wish to -forget, we must think and speak of them no more."
"Youz may forget-but I never shall! —oh no, Matilda!
let me remember them forever! Any, bitterness which may
be mingled hereafter in my cup of sorrow, must be received
with a humble remembrance that I was tried by prosperity,
and that it would have corrupted and destroyed me."
" Indeed, dear Eleanor, that is a dangerous test to us all!
and while we mourn for the insignificant oversights which
may occur in an earthly friendship, how deeply should we




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLEOT.            841
both lament to think of our Omnipotent benefactor and
friend, who has loaded us with so many benefits, and whom we
are still so prone to forget. Towards him only, dearest Eleanor, you can never overestimate the penitence that we owe."
"True, Matilda! and all has been done as you wish.  I
made concession to God before another thought was permitted to dwell in my mind, praying that he would grant me that
true, deep, and influential repentance which shall never need
to be repented of. Once already I experienced the deceitfulness of my own heart when my mother died, and a few tears
of penitence seemed then an undoubted evidence of conversion,-even yet. Matilda can I hope that, though pierced to
the heart with a consciousness of sin, better feelings will
arise?  Alas! perhaps the weeds may be rooted out, and
only a blank remain."
"Eleanor! we were both often taught that every soulwhich shall be saved is twice created,-first with the love of
this world supremely governing our hearts, while it produces
an aversion to every devout feeling, —and afterwards the
Holy Spirit changes all this into penitence, belief, and obedience.  We might wonder sometimes at the wide devastation of sorrow in every house and in every heart, were it not
evident that affliction is the most ordinary means by which
grace is ordained. to sanctify nature. Moses entered a cloud
before he was permitted near access to God.  David confesses that before he was afflicted he went astray; the prodigal son would have lived always estranged from his father's
house but for sorrow; and as Elijah was carried to Heaven
in a chariot of fire, it seems generally some fiery trial by
which our hearts are first elevated above this world.  I remember hearing of a good divine who said, on his death-bed,
that he never attained to perfect peace until he felt thoroughly convinced that there was'no happiness for him in
this world.' While building upon any mere worldly foundation, we do but build upon a wave; how thankful then
should we be for any chastisement that shows its real instability!"
" Yes, Matilda! it is the privilege of established Christians
to know'for certain, that all the gifts bestowed upon them
are a blessing sent from God; and all that are taken away
are likewise an advantage, for they are given or withheld by
Infinite goodness, as well as Infinite wisdom.'Who sees not Providence supremely wise,
Alike in what he gives, and what denies?'




342                 MODERN SOCIsET
Now, Matilda, tell me, for the time is fitting, what was that
message from our beloved aunt which you once so affectionately importuned me to hear?' She first taught us, that
God's mercies do not flow most on the shallow, sparkling
channel of prosperity, and how truly it has been so with me!
I did experience yesterday that prodigious capability of
wretchedness which lives within the corrupted heart of man
while seeking rest and finding none; but now the iron band
which chained my better feelings appears to have suddenly
burst, the cloud has passed from my eyes, and, by the shock
of many events which have crowded on me, I seem at once
restored, and in my right mind!"
" Then, indeed, the prayer of Aunt Olivia is answered,
and you are happy, Eleanor!" said Matilda, again embracing
her cousin. - "How often we are enjoined to'watch and
pray!' but those who pray, and watch for the answer, cannot
long continue to doubt how greatly the intercessions of the
righteous prevail.  We are both living evidences that the
effect of His -people's supplication is not limited to their own
individual happiness, nor to the term of their lives, but that,
in the experience of devout Christians, that promise shall
be realized,-' I will bless you, and ye shall be a blessing.'
Above all things, Eleanor, we must persevere in prayer,
which is so essential and so powerful an assistance in life,
that it was truly remarked, —' We cannot possibly both
continue to pray and continue to sin.' The strength of our
earthly attachments will also be an additional motive to ardor in the cultivation of holiness.' Every thought and feeling of our hearts should originate in one common source,
and return, like the sun's rays, to one glorious centre; for
what does our frail, transitory life possess, to give it interest
or dignity, but that only object which should be dear to our
hearts-the glory of God, which leads us, as our sole means
of promoting it, to be diligent and persevering in our desire
for the salvation of ourselves and others? I Dr. Murray once
told me, that if ever he indulged a momentary carelessness
respecting the salvation of his people, he had but to imagine,
for one moment, the day of judgment, and the look of mute
despair with which a condemned soul shall hear the sentence
of his Maker.  An expression of speechless anguish then
seems turned on himself, anad he feels as if to rescue one
single fellow-creature from such unending wretchedness
would be worth the sacrifice of every earthly joy. It was
this feeling of compassion, carried to a Divine extent, which




OR THE MAINCH OF INTELLECT.        343
caused the Son of God to pity our lost condition, and to die
that we might be enabled to shun such anguish; and there
is not one human soul among the thousands in Heaven who
had not sinned beyond all hope of pardon, except through
that sacrifice and propitiation of our crucified Saviour."




844                 MODERN SOCI8foY,
CHAPTER XXV.
"How vainly, through infinite trouble and strifes
The many their labors employ!
Since all that is truly delightful in life,
Is what all, if they please, may enjoy."
M' IATILDA," said Eleanor, taking her cousin by the hand,
when their interview was nearly over, " I trust we shall both
live to see the permanence of my present feelings and resolutions, though it is easy to feel a desire for holiness, and,
oh, how difficult to attain it! During the next year I have
resolved to live in retirement and meditation, while pursu —
ing such a course of reading as our adviser and friend, Dr.
Murray, may suggest.  Meanwhile," added she, losing the
paleness of her cheek in a deep glow of carnation, i" it is
Mr. Grant's intention to travel on the Continent.  He has
been urgent with me to accompany him there, but my heart
must not yet be trusted with happiness. You know, Matilda,
how truly he was preferred to all others; and my father
having consented, I shall soon exchange.the gilded misery
which lately cheated me of real peace, for a moderate fortune.
and as much earthly happiness as can exist along with the
remembrance, which shall remain forever, of past follies, and
of worse than these, ingratitude, selfishness, and sin."
When Matidla proceeded on her way to the saloon, before
dinner, she was called by Sir Richard into his sitting-room,
and her heart sunk with apprehension respecting what he
might say of the recent discovery by Mr. Armstrong; but
he held out his hand to her with an expression of kindness,
though of extreme gravity.
" My dear girl, this has been a surprise to us all! You
need not be told that it is as great to me as to any one.  I
shall, of course, defend your cousin's claims with all the
energy in my power; but if Sir Philip's subsequent settlement be found good, then I shall yield without regret to one
who is scarcely less dear to me than Eleanor herself. You
deserve my affection, but prosperity tries us all, and no doubt
your head will become as giddy on the pinnacle as your




OR THE MARCH OF INTELLECT.           845
cousin's. We must allow, entre nous, that she became rather
spoilt. Be ready to start with us for Edinburgh to-morrow,
and in every sense, I think your father will meet with a
surprise."
On the- following week, Mr. Armstrong's packet being
put into the hands of counsel, all the ingenuity of man could
inot discover a doubt of Sir Philip's last will being valid.
For once there seemed no occasion to complain in Scotland
of "the law's delay."  Matilda Howard was not destined,
like many, to grow old in seeking for her rights, and after
lingering in weariness and suspense till she outlived the possibility-of enjoying them, to receive what is called justice, in
being allowed to bequeath for others the possession of that
which ought to have embellished her own existence. After
a short period of uncertainty, she received a visit from Sir
Richard, to announce, in terms of affection and kindness,
that Eleanor's claim was, by the concurrent advice of the
Solicitor-General and many other legal advisers, finally relinquished.
Every event happens unexpectedly, and even those which
we have daily considered for years, come when least anticipated, and cause the same astonishment as if they never were
supposed possible. Mr. Grant had been thinking rather less
than usual about the state of Sir Evan's health, when one
morning, about this time, he received letters sealed with
black. to announce that a sudden fit of apoplexy carried him
off one day while sitting after dinner.  As he had been
struck speechless at once, no opportunity occurred of acknowledging any marriage to the mother of his children, a
manceuvre which he always proposed to execute at the last
moment, thus intending to continue her dependence on his
humors while he lived, and still to' enjoy his cherished desire of vengeance on his nephew. Mr. Grant could scarcely
be expected to drop a tear over his uncle's memory, before
he blotted him out forever; but he hastened to pay Sir
Evan's remains all the decencies of respect, and to make a
liberal provision for his numerous and dependent family,
each of whom were subsequently established in a profession.
Before setting out to attend the funeral, Mr. Grant requested an interview with Miss Fitz-Patrick, and pleaded
his own cause with impassioned eloquence and genuine good
feeling, till he at length extorted from her the promise he
asked. Eleanor consented that the retirement and privacy
to which she had devoted the following year, should be found
15*




s46                 MODERN SOCI'rT,
at -Clanpibroch Castle, where he assured her that the
counsels of Sir Alfred and the convictions of his own mind,
prepared him to occupy his future life in seeking that great
object of Christian hope which had now attained its su..
preme value in the eyes of both.
Every reader of newspapers must have observed, in the
Morning Post of Thursday last, the announcement of two
marriages in high life, by the Rev. Dr. Murray of Gaelfield,
Sir Thomas Grant, Bart. of Clanpibroch Castle, Invernessshire, to Miss Eleanor Fitz-Patrick; and Sir Alfred Douglas,
Bart. of Douglas Pribry, in Mid-Lothian, and Bowmont
M anor in Yorkshire, to Miss Howard, the lovely and accomplished heiress of Barnard Castle. Among the company
present we observed Lady Susan Danvers, Lady and the
Misses Montague, Hon. Mrs. Clifford, Miss C. and Miss A.
Clifford, Miss Murray, Miss Porson, Hon. Col. Pendarvis,
Major Foley, Sir C. Fletcher, Captain M'Tartan, and a
numerous party of distinguished friends.
Among the on-dits in society it is currently reported that,
Lady Susan Danvers, once listened herself into the good
graces of Sir Colin Fletcher with such persevering patience
that, though a single yawn would have ruined her prospect
forever, he actually, with much circumlocution, came at last
to the point.  The fair lady, having long had a ready-made
attachment at. the service of any very eligible match that
offered, was found propitious on the present occasion, and
lawyers and milliners are already in the full activity of preparation.
C(aptain M'Tartan was the only man at the Senior United Service Club who perceived much cause for astonishment
when'he one day found himself unexpectedly promoted to
be an admiral and honored with a Guelphic ribbon, in consequence of his spirited conduct on board the " Champion, 74,"
of which particulars were given in his dispatches, dated the
15th September.  Sir Donald M'Tartan, having been little
on shore, is firmly persuaded that every young' lady has
much the same characteristics-that they are all. good tempered, lively, fond of music, dress, and gayety-ready to
marry the first man who asks them, and so smitten with
epaulettes, that they will admire one on naval-blue shoulders
when not to be seen upon scarlet.  Since he became an ad




OR THE MARH OFr INTELLECT.            34?
miral, Miss Charlotte Clifford, who, to the certain knowledge
of her numerous confidantes, had already refused or dis
couraged every other gentleman living, seemed in danger of
finding it necessary to be in love with Sir Donald, when, to
her great surprise, he announced an engagement to Miss
Adelaide Montague.
Major Foley, having been quartered in Ireland lately
with his regiment, was filled with, dismay one morning to
find that his little, well-turned compliments, and trifling civilities, were carefully registered in the heart and in the
head of a fair Hibernian, possessing, among other irresistible
recommendations, a squadron of brothers.  Having been
assured by them in strong terms of the pleasure with which
they allaniticipate a nearer connexion, he has found it impossible to disappoint them, and the mlarriage will take place
at Tipperary without delay.
Colonel Pendarvis succeeded lately to Yorkton Abbey
and the accumulated hoards of that avaricious old aunt,
respecting whose penurious habits it had formerly been his
amusement to relate so many anecdotes; but with the estate,
he seems to have unexpectedly inherited all her saving propensities; and the very customs which he criticised in her
have been, almost without exception, adopted by himself,
while they are observed with ridicule and contempt by his
younger brothers.
Nanny Muckleraidh is at last; restored to perfect composure and peace of mind.  She can bear to see Martha the
happy wife of <William Grey. She has even learnt to rejoice
in their contentnment; while she devotes her own time to
the charge of a school lately established in the village of
Clanpibroch, where in useful and  active employment she
finds a degree of happiness never experienced before. The
only fault her scholars find with their teacher is on account
of her being extremely rigid about discouraging all excesses
in dress, and invariably confiscating the necklaces of glass
beads and the gilt ear-rings in which the girls delight to
adorn themselves.
Dr. Murray, it is whispered, will probably be Moderator
of the General Assembly next year; and as no event of equal
importance ever occured before in the annals of his sister's
life, he has found occasion to exercise the most indulgent
forbearance in suffering a multitude of pleasing anticipations
and active preparatory measures, with which she is already
permecuting his few hours of leisure.




348                 MODERN SOCIETY.
Mr. Armstrong is commissioned, by a friend who entertains the highest opinion of his taste and judgment, to
choose some first-rate pictures abroad, for which first-rate
prices will, of course, be exacted; and he has lately been
exhibiting one or two "perfect gems" in London, which the
Duke of Cairngorum and other connoisseurs pronounce to
be chefs-d'ceuvres, beyond all price.
Miss Marabout and Miss Porson are both at present looking out for situations as " finishing governesses," having each
obtained the most satisfactory testimonials from a variety of
distinguished families, to whom  references can be given.
Both profess to teach all the usual branches of education,
music, drawing, and languages, besides every kind of useless
ur useful knowledge, and also, as Miss Marabout expressed
herselfc" PRINCIPLES OF COURSE."