ated to heaven, bespoke him engrossed by the fervour
of mental devotion. Constantia, silent, trembling, and almost fearing to
breathe, contrasted, by her apprehensiveness, beauty, and elegance, the
awful solemnity of her father's aspect. He was invested with the
insignia of his academical honours, and attired in his sacerdotal habit,
which, in its decay, seemed emblematical of the ruined Church for whom
he was a confessor. Meek but dignified, patient but courageous, he
looked like one of the pillars of episcopacy, who, though the beauty of
holiness was defaced, and the visible cherubim removed from the
sanctuary, continued to support the tottering edifice, deeming the ruins
of Zion a better station than the gorgeous temple of Baal. Nor did the
celebrated classical example of Antigone more forcibly illustrate the
persevering fortitude of passive heroism and enduring love in woman's
gentle bosom, than did the interesting, lovely Constantia. Like the
renowned daughter of Sir Thomas More, "she seemed to have forgotten
herself, being ravished with the entire love of her dear father," and
fearful of danger only as it pointed at him. She turned her eyes upon
the court with a boldness unusual to their general expression, to see if
in any of their faces she could trace the lineaments of justice or
compassion; but they were soon arrested by recognising, in the
president, the well-remembered face of Major Monthault. The brims of his
hat were of more than ordinary dimensions; his hair was notched into the
exact shape prescribed by the highest standard of puritanical orthodoxy;
his band was crimped, and his robes folded with prim decorum; while his
hands demurely rested on the cushion before him, holding a small edition
of the sacred volume, on which he seemed to be meditating in the
intervals between the exercise of his professional duties. But neither
the starched sobriety of his aspect, nor his newly assumed name of
Mephibosheth could obliterate her recollection of the daring libertine
who had seduced her Eustace, and attempted her honour. She pointed him
out to her father, inquiring if he might not be challenged as a personal
enemy; but Dr. Beaumont wisely thought it more prudent to avoid a
recognition, which would only confirm his enmity by exposing his former
conduct; and, reminding Constantia that as no exceptions of theirs would
be attended to, they must know Monthault only in his present character,
he entreated, as her alarm