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other, as you have so long most disinterestedly wished, then your father's good name becomes no less dear to myself than to you, and I can show my sense of his repentance and of his desire to make me all the compensation he could, when he planned bestowing on me, somebody that he thought it just possible I might be happy with.” If ever man's love were totally untarnished by worldly interest it was Lord Eaglescairn's, who now, with all the fervour of impassioned eloquence, poured out his whole feelings to Beatrice, in a burst of grateful emotion; and perhaps there never were two happier hours spent in this world, than those during which the two young lovers entered into mutual explanations, rallied each other with sportive humour, recriminated in jest, spoke sense and sentiment, wisdom and nonsense, planned schemes of happiness for the future, laughed till they were in tears over old recollections, and discussed as they at length strolled slowly and unwillingly homewards to dinner, many a hope of living long in a too-happy-for-this-world state of mutual confidence in each other, and of unwearying benevolence to all around. “To me,” said Lord Eaglescairn, “ever since I knew you, there have been but two places in the world,—where you are and where you are not If a heart entirely your own is worth having, mine has already bestowed on you attachment enough for a dozen of ordinary lovers.” “And I know how to value it,” said Beatrice, in a low tone of deep emotion. “My future life
shall prove that! Think what a change to me, since I thought it a duty to extinguish every hope for myself or others,—when I believed myself a waif and stray belonging to nobody! Even then your generous nature would have overlooked all, except your own too partial estimate of me."
“My spirits are soaring to-day like a balloon on a sunbeam! I am quite in a blaze of felicity to see every wish of my heart realized, and I deserve it, for hope has always been with me a perfect air plant that flourished upon nothing," said Lord Eaglescairn, in a tone of animated sensibility that became him well. « But it almost ceased to exist weeks ago, when my ardent love taught me to feel how undeserving I was, that such a heart as yours could ever be mine. Now, poor as the youngest of younger sons, how much less right had I to hope than ever!'
“ You do not, of course, allow a single momentary thought to dwell on the disparity that either was or is between us in fortune," said Beatrice, colouring deeply. “You told me, when I was a nameless foundling, that you were ready to live, starve, or die, for me, had your father then disinherited you; therefore, now that other circumstances have, as it were, again disinherited you, my happiness is, to feel how very generous an attachment it is in my power to return."
“ To return and to reward. Great is my reward, indeed, Beatrice," said Lord Eaglescairn, while tears actually started into his eyes, and he turned away for some moments, unable to speak from
emotion. “ If I know nothing else, I know
me, and more,” said Beatrice, in a tone of charming sensibility, as she glanced at the handsome countenance of her lover, lighted up with joy. “I wish you thought less of me, that you may never be disappointed.”
“ Impossible! Trust me for knowing that I have found the Koh-i-noor diamond among ladies. The rose speciosissima and grandiosa! but think what I have suffered lest another be preferred to myself !” interrupted Lord Eaglescairn. “I know my own good fortune, but can I ever be worthy of gaining such a prize! I sink into despondency when considering what the man should be who gains your affection. How shall I characterise one who can recommend himself only by his devoted attachment!"
“There have been all sorts of Lord Eaglescairns in their day, with suitable appellations,” said Beatrice, gracefully leaning on the arm of her happy lover. “ He who is now discovered to have been my grandfather, was 'The Proud Lord,'—then there was “The Priest-ridden Lord,' and 'The Extravagant Lord.' What soubriquet do you mean to deserve ?"
“I ought to be The Landless Lord, my whole property now being picturesquely situated
in the moon; but I can think of no name for myself at this moment but “The Happy Lord Eaglescairn !”” replied he, clasping the hand of Beatrice in his own, and resuming his wonted tone of vivacity. “The greatest novelty in our family would certainly be, to hear myself called • The Protestant Lord Eaglescairn!' During how many generations we have been the slaves of Rome,-ever since the time of James II., when the name of a priest and of a plotter were synonymous, and when the whole moral law was contained in the Pope's pocket, and in the coffers of
I have often lately thought of Petrarch's words, who, being in the Pope's household, fled from it as from a city of destruction, saying, “I know by experience that there is here no piety, no charity, no faith, no reverence of God, no fear; that there are here no holy, just, or upright men; that there is no care or seriousness; nothing, in short, even human. Love, shame, propriety, candour, are banished thence. I say nothing of truth, for what place is there for truth, where all is full of falsehood, the sacred recesses of the temples, the tribunes of the judges, the seat of the pontiffs, in fine, the mouths, the nods, the gestures, the voices, the countenances, the minds of men, are all false and counterfeit.' It is from being the besotted advocate of Rome, with all her absurdities, her idolatries, her errors and her abominations, that, like Petrarch, I have been delivered. On such quicksands I might have been building through life, but for the open
criminality that disgusted me in Father Eustace, and the beautiful exemplification of Christian excellence that I witnessed at Heatherbrae."
Tears of pleasure started into the beautiful eyes of Beatrice, as with smiling timidity she gave a short quick glance of intense pleasure to her companion, but she felt unwilling or unable to speak, and he continued
“I found lately in my father's library an old tract called 'New Shreds of the Old Snare,' and the snare is not worn out yet! Father Eustace would have forced me to believe everything, and drove me for a time into believing nothing. When he saw my inquiring mind stuck on the horns of a dilemma, he tried to make me swallow it, horns and all, but that was impossible. I could not accommodate my mind to his elastic code of morals, which consists entirely in becoming an automaton, growing blinder every hour, with no idea but to serve Rome in a course of small morality, of cheap absolutions, and of idle empty mechanical ceremonies. Accustomed to take from us the holy liberty of the mind, Father Eustace aims only at the destruction of the body and the despotic guidance of the soul. From such a dissolution of myself and inward annihilation, I am preserved, and from continuing in a church which is as Genebrand once said, 'not apostolical, but apostate-ical." »
“ The Popish superstition certainly is a grand falsehood, full of chimerical promises, and many of its fables are like the reverie of an opium-eater; as it affords a home to every exaggeration of fana