that humble creature, feasting upon what, to wealthy, and accomplished; and I am a woher, were the words of eternal truth.” "The same book," said Anna, "is open to all; and it is the perfection of that volume, that its sacred truths are equally applicable, its moral precepts equally serviceable, and its religious consolations equally available, to the high and the low, the rich and the poor, the happy and the miserable.” Lord Carrisbrooke shook his head. "My mother forced me when a child to learn long lessons from the Bible, as a punishment when I did wrong; and I have never been able to read it since." man, young, and poor, and unprotected." "My lord, that very weakness which excites your tenderness, and that dignity which awes me into respect, are incompatible with the fair and equalizing nature of friendship." "Then call it love, if you will. It matters little what name is given to an intimacy like ours, to be dissolved in a few brief moments; but oh! do not leave me to myself. Come often; sit with me till you are weary; and, "If you would but try, my Lord," said above all things, tell me how to make death Anna. "Will you read it to me?" replied his Lordship. And then he smiled as dying men have no right to smile. "I would do anything," said Anna, in her own guileless manner, "to make you less melancholy, less desponding; and I would suffer anything, were it possible for me to be instrumental in raising your thoughts to a participation in those hopes, which alone are able to support the soul in its hour of mortal trial." "How is this?" said Lord Carrisbrooke, and while he spoke and looked earnestly at Anna, tears, burning tears, were in his eyes; and he stretched forth his thin and wasted hand, and grasped her arm with something of unearthly energy. "My course through this world has been short and eccentric; winning the wonder of the many, and the love of the few. Had I not dived beneath the shallow surface of profession, my sated vanity might have revelled in fruition; yet have I never known from my cradle until this hour one friend who cared about my soul." "Your Lordship has been very unfortunate! Amongst the first of earthly blessings which heaven bestowed upon me, was a faithful friend; a friend whose counsel and kindness have been as a light upon my path." "And will you be this friend to me?" "Impossible, my lord!" "Why impossible?" less horrible. Ah! you are going again, going to gather roses, and sit within your sunny bower, and listen to the birds that warble overhead, and feel the breath of summer fan your blooming cheek, and think not of the weary hours that I am spending. Indeed why should you? I am nothing to you, I can be nothing, and have no right to trouble you with my fruitless complainings." Anna held out one hand, while with the other she concealed her face; and wishing the miserable invalid a good morning, went her way to muse upon the various branches and bearings of the word "interesting;" a word so important in the vocabulary of the sentimentalist, that it appears to possess the talismanic property of discovering whatever is worthy of consideration either in nature or art. "How interesting!" exclaims the enthusiast, and immediately her beau ideal is clothed in a mantle of imaginary beauty. Within may be an empty void, it matters not. Vanity or vice may lurk below, they are alike unheeded. Misery and disappointment may lie shrouded beneath, they are endured with the patience of a martyr. And why? Because the object is interesting, and consequently it becomes an idol. Again-When anything earthly, or unearthly, has received the fatal condemnation of being pronounced uninteresting, how utterly hopeless and vain is every attempt to "Because you are a man, noble, and force it upon the attention of those, who have been accustomed to look only through the false medium of sickly sentiment. Unheeded, unnoticed, by them, uninteresting philosophy may labour in secret over the investigation of truth, uninteresting charity may go forth upon her errands of mercy, uninteresting resignation may watch beside the lowly bed of sickness, and offer up from unfeigned lips her last soul-felt prayer; and what to them is the incense of uninteresting piety, though it should burn upon the altar of the heart, consuming all that is gross and perishable, and purifying the immortal spirit for a new existence in the regions of eternal light. CHAPTER XIX. THE ambition of doing good, is often the last effort of expiring vanity in an amiable mind, and the resolution to do good is unquestionably laudable in the abstract; but with this excellent resolution there are not unfrequently certain accompaniments, such as these; I shall make myself valuable, I shall be more beloved, my name will be exalted among the people; and mournful it is to observe, that the mind of woman is peculiarly liable to fall away from its high purpose, into these snares and pitfalls, which are so placed along the christian's path, that there is no footing to be found upon the pilgrimage of life, without its own temptations, and besetments. Possessed with these aspiring hopes, Anna Clare retired to her own chamber; and while she turned over various volumes, and referred to different texts of scripture, which she conceived might aid her purpose, there not unfrequently flitted across her mind the encouraging assurance, that "he who converteth a sinner from the error of his ways, shall save a soul from death, and hide a multitude of sins." Having fixed at last upon the conversion of Count Struensee, Anna hastened early to the Hall on the following morning, with hope in her countenance, and triumph in her heart. "You must read it to me," said Lord Carrisbrooke, "for there is something in your voice that charms away my evil genius." So Anna opened her little volume, and sat down, and thought she had never been so well employed in her whole life; but, in spite of all her sanguine expectations, she could not help perceiving, that the thoughts of her noble auditor went not along with her, at least with her book, and that his eye never rested upon anything but her face, and when she closed the book as an experiment to try whether his attention was really fixed, he made no remark upon it, but seizing the white hand by which it was held out to him, pressed it to his lips, with every expression of gratitude and admiration. "It will not do," said Anna, as she walked home that morning: and when she met the calm countenance of her friend, she was more than ever convinced that she had been wrong; her pupils too were rejoicing in their prolonged holiday, and she herself was returning weary and dispirited, and not a little disposed to be dissatisfied with all around her. "This picture takes you a long time to paint," said Mary: and Anna who was so conscious that it might have been completed in half the time, felt a reproof in the remark which it was not intended to convey. "I can finish it at one more sitting," was her consolation as she went to rest that night; and she did finish it, and was more than ever concinced on the following morning, that the work of reformation was at an end, at least that its triumphs were not for her; that Lord Carrisbrooke had been amusing himself, and gratifying his own vanity by the interest he had excited in her mind; and that in order to give this interest a deeper character, he had expressed all, and perhaps something more, than he really thought, and felt, at the prospect of the awful doom that was impending. Oh! woman, in thy mysterious and often eventful life, thou hast many a hard lesson of humility to learn; and, perhaps, none can be more painfully instructive, than that which teaches thee, that in thy noble and generous desire to serve thy fellow creatures, thou has been aspiring too high. Learn, then, from the experience and the warning of others, learn while thy young heart is yet unscathed by disappointment, that thy sphere of merit is a lowly one; and above all things, go not forth upon the mighty ocean, in the presumptuous hope, that thou shall be able to pilot the stately vessel into port; let the heavy prow heave on upon the billows of destruction; thy feeble help cannot avail; thou canst only be drawn within the vortex, engulphed, and lost for ever. Thy little bark is made to float amongst the shoals and shallows of the shore, to warn the ignorant of danger, to gather up the wreck, to save the perishing, and to comfort the forlorn. The last meeting between Lord Carrisbrooke and Anna was a painful one, through which nothing could have supported her, but the fruits of a sorrowful experience, and a heightened sense of duty. eye seeth thee, offer up thy earnest prayers, that he who knoweth the path of the eagle in the heavens, will turn away the wanderer from the error of his ways: and, seek not thou to be the instrument. Look out upon the sufferings of thy fellow creatures; diligently watch the opportunity of fulfilling every duty; search the recesses of thy own soul, and see whether thy appointed task be not sufficient, without aspiring higher. It was some weeks after this time, at the solemn close of a sabbath evening, that Anna Clare sat alone and silent at the window of her own chamber. The golden tints of the setting sun were fading away; the hum of the village was subsiding; the shepherd was folding in his sheep; the silvery dew was falling; and one pale planet shone out from the clear and distant heavens. How strange that, upon such a scene, the principal of evil should dare intrude! Alas! for our heroine! she looked not forth with joy and thankfulness, but tears were stream ing from her eyes, and she was repining, that amidst so much peace and loveliness, her path must be alone; whether amongst flowers, or thorns. The beauty of the flowers and the anguish of the thorns, must be en "It is better, much better;" said she, as she walked home that morning; and yet tears were every instant starting in her eyes, and sometimes there seemed to be whispered in her ear, as if by a rebellious and unsub-joyed, and endured alone. dued spirit, "I was but seeking to cheer the last moments of a dying man." Unable to enter into the affairs of Mary's household, she retired to her own chamber; and here, upon reflection, she was confirmed in her belief that the path she had chosen was a wise and prudent one. The words, "touch not, handle not," were continually recurring to her mind. "These things are not for thee." Will he repent at thy bidding; who has lived to the mature age of manhood, in the habitual contempt of religion, and forgetfulness of his Creator? Will he be subdued by thy charming, whose heart is as the flinty rock! Or will thy reasoning convince him, who has exhausted the powers of an acute and penetrating mind, without having discovered the immutable excellence of eternal truth? "Touch not, handle not," but go thou into thy secret chamber, and when no Where now was her lately acquired submission, her patience, and resignation? Selfishness and vanity, had again been contending for the empire of her heart, and she was reaping the bitter fruit of their destructive warfare. For a short time her former self returned, to pine, and suffer; and when she thought of the mysterious and highly gifted character, in whose feelings she was just beginning to hold a share, when stern duty warned her to withdraw, it seemed to her, that she alone, of all mortal creatures, was singled out to resign whatever was most intimately connected with her heart of hearts. At last, her murmuring thoughts found utterance in words. "Every thing on earth has its little sphere of enjoyment, in which it can meet and participate with others. Coarse spirits have their social intercourse. Friend meets friend, around the humble hearth. In all the affairs of human life,-in commerce as well as religion, multitudes congregate together, and pursue in concert the great end of their existence. The very brutes-the flocks that feed upon yon sloping hill, enjoy the refreshing dews of night together. The birds have their companions in the woods, to whom they can utter a response. All the sweet flowers of night and day, have their appointed time for looking up in unison to heaven. The stars have their own bright family, shining through the blue expanse. Every intelligence in nature has its kindred essence; but I have nothing!" Anna's complaining ceased, and she was looking out again, when the solemn sound of a passing-bell fell upon her ear-she shuddered and turned within. In the twilight she could just perceive that some one approached. It was Mary, who came with the tidings that Lord Carrisbrooke was dead. In an instant, Anna was restored to her better self. That sudden and awful sound, and the unexpected appearance of her, who had so of ten stood beside her as a guardian angel, bringing a silent reproof, where none was spoken; the stillness of the hour, and the recollections of the past, all mingling together, might have overpowered a spirit more hardened and perverse than Anna's. "Mary," said she, laying her hand upon the arm of her friend, "there is one duty which we have never, since the days of our infancy, performed together, except in public. Let us kneel down in this quiet chamber, and enter into a fresh covenant with our Heavenly Father, that we will drink of the cup which he has poured out for us, even though it should be gall and bitterness. That we will walk in the path which he has pointed out, though it should pierce our feet with thorns; and that we will never turn away, nor be unfaithful to his service, though we know that it requires us to give up all and follow him," And then, from her eloquent lips, and overflowing heart, she poured forth her gratitude and praise to that Being who had thus far conducted her through the wilderness; who had borne with her spiritual idolatries, who had given her a friend as a faithful guide, and whom she now implored to look down from his habitation in the heavens, upon the weakest worm of his creation. Bound by fresh ties of more than earthly union, the two friends had knelt together; together they rose, and the embrace with which they separated that night was warm and pure, as in the days of their first love. Her feeble steps recalled from their slight wandering, her good resolutions confirmed after their short lapse, Anna Clare went onward in the path of duty; for she had learned to mistrust herself, and consequently to shun temptation. And having found how incompatible with true happiness is the gratification of vanity or ambition, she confined her hopes and wishes, and even her laudable desire to be of use, within the humble sphere in which her lot was cast. On the reading of Lord Carrisbrooke's will, it was discovered that he had bequeathed the sum of one thousand pounds to the artist who painted his portrait: and with this sum added to the well earned reward of her daily labours, Anna contrived not only to maintain a respectable and genteel appearance, but often to comfort the distressed, and supply the wants of the needy. Gentle reader, forgive the writer of this story, that she has no better fate in store for her heroine, even in the season of "the first grey hair," than that of a respected and respectable old maid; not a fretful, fuming thing, of false ringlets, and false smiles, but a woman of delicate and tender feeling, of calm dignity, and unbounded benevolence, who mourned no longer that earth afforded her no object, or rather no idol, on which she might lavish the warm feelings of an affectionate heart; for she had learned to pour forth into a thousand channels, "that charity which suffereth long and is kind." Alas! to the rescue of Anna Clare, from the shades of vulgar oblivion, there came no belted knight, no steel-clad warrior; no prince in disguise discovered her to be the alien daughter of his house; nor did a superannuated nabob make her the heiress of an Indian fortune; but she continued to dwell in the home of her friend, "Happy and giving happiness;" she could still look around her with delight on the charms of nature, the world was no longer a mere picture, admired only for the harmony of its colouring, and the grouping of its different objects; but for the harmony of its creation and government, and the mysterious and admirable adjustment of its different parts, beneath the wonder-working hand of the great Artificer. And she could still pause to look at the village spire, but it was not merely to observe how beautifully it arose from the masses of dark foliage, and pierced the azure sky; it was to meditate upon the privileges of living in a christian land, where the people of Christ may rest under the banner of his love, to hear his divine precepts, and to offer up their prayers together; and if there still were times when she was rapt in admiration at the splendour of the setting sun, it was with a hallowed and though highly gifted with those qualities, which might reasonably attract the attention of the wealthy and the noble, she never ventured beyond her own lowly sphere, but was content to remain, where she had not only the wish, but the power to bless. That enthusiasm which had given wayward wings to her inexperienced fancy, became tempered by religion, into energy and hope; energy, that shrank not from the humblest, as well as the most arduous duties; and hope that burned brighter and brighter, to the close of a useful and well spent life. Nor were the tastes and the enjoyments of her early years extinguished, but properly directed and re-feeling of thankfulness for that resplendent strained; for Anna Clare could still wander sign of daily assurance, that he who holds forth on dewy evenings, even when her our being in his hands, departs not from his cheek had lost its bloom; but her wanderings own wise and merciful design, in which the now more frequently terminated in errands "heavens declare the glory of God, and the of kindness to her humble friends, and though | firmament showeth his handy work." |