many of this last description amongst her acquaintances, many that kept, so to speak, on fair terms with religion, She was sur but who never sacrificed to its claims one iota of their interests, not to mention their vices. rounded with examples on the one hand, and of of profligacy convention alism on the other. Between the two extremes of open scandal and of hypocrisy, her natural love of truth inclined her to give the preference to the former, and she ascribed to the man she loved the merit of sincerity. to the It is a common and dangerous error confound the boldness of vice with fearlessness of truth. Habit too, alas! induces toleration of what would, under other circumstances, awaken a holy indignation. The absence of principle in others could not excite in her that lively astonishment which it creates in the minds of those who have always lived in the healthy atmosphere of virtue and integrity. The judgment gets warped, even while the heart, through God's grace, may remain uncorrupted. In the duties of religion she sought strength against the dangers, and consolation under the trials of the world, but she put aside all reflections on the conduct of those amongst whom she lived. She had learnt to consider the vices of society and the inconsistency of men as inevitable evils, but her own religious feelings were doubtless weakening also under the influence of an absorbing human attachment. Grace will not always struggle with such an obstacle. God withdraws Himself for a while from hearts that neglect Him, but the link, although loosened, is often not broken. He bides His time. His voice is heard again when the fever of passion subsides, and the weary spirit finds a refuge in which, though jealous in is merciful in its patience. that love, its claims, 32 Second Chapter. "Thou'lt find e'en here some mournful note that tells How near such April joy to weeping dwells." "Oh, do not look so bright and blest, MOORE. When brows like thine look happiest, MOORE. "Extremity of grief will make men mad, How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is SHAKESPEARE. THE horse-chesnuts were putting forth their rich spiral blossoms; the lilacs of the Luxembourg exhaling their sweet perfumes. Those royal gardens were crowded with gailydressed persons; the air resounded with the voices of children, the busy hum of insects, and the songs of thousands of birds. The stir of active life, the joyful exhilaration of the early days of spring, were pervading the good city of Paris, and lending to its streets and its boulevards the appearance of a holiday. liant also was the display of weddingpresents, of ornaments of various kinds, and of splendid dresses, which were spread out to view on the tables of one of the principal reception-rooms of the Hotel de Biron on the 1st of May, 1717. Bril Pearls and diamonds had been bestowed on the little Judithe; a magnificent corbeille de marriage and a rich trousseau provided for her, but as she noiselessly glided into the room, early that morning, her eyes did not rest on the Genoa velvets, the point-lace veil, or the Dresden china, or VOL. II. D |