ly: I was beginning insensibly to cherish very
unamiable feelings against my fellow-mortals, the male part of them
especially; but it is a comfort to see there is at least one among them
worthy to be trusted and esteemed; and doubtless there are more, though I
have never known them, unless I except poor Lord Lowborough, and he was
bad enough in his day. But what would Frederick have been, if he had
lived in the world, and mingled from his childhood with such men as these
of my acquaintance? and what will Arthur be, with all his natural
sweetness of disposition, if I do not save him from that world and those
companions? I mentioned my fears to Frederick, and introduced the
subject of my plan of rescue on the evening after his arrival, when I
presented my little son to his uncle.

'He is like you, Frederick,' said I, 'in some of his moods: I sometimes
think he resembles you more than his father; and I am glad of it.'

'You flatter me, Helen,' replied he, stroking the child's soft, wavy
locks.

'No, you will think it no compliment when I tell you I would rather have
him to resemble Benson than his father.' He slightly elevated his
eyebrows, but said nothing.

'Do you know what sort of man Mr. Huntingdon is?' said I.

'I think I have an idea.'

'Have you so clear an idea that you can hear, without surprise or
disapproval, that I meditate escaping with that child to some secret
asylum, where we can live in peace, and never see him again?'

'Is it really so?'

'If you have not,' continued I, 'I'll tell you something more about him';
and I gave a sketch of his general conduct, and a more particular account
of his behaviour with regard to his child, and explained my apprehensions
on the latter's account, and my determination to deliver him from his
father's influence.

Frederick was exceedingly indignant against Mr. Huntingdon, and very much
grieved for me; but still he looked upon my project as wild and
impracticable. He deemed my fears for Arthur disproportioned to the
circumstances, and opposed so many objections to my plan, and devised so
many milder methods for ameliorating my condition, that I was obliged to
enter into further details to convince him that my husband was utterly
incorrigible, and that nothing could persuade him to give up his son,
whatever became of me, he being as fully determined the child should not
leave him, as I was not to leave the child; and that, in fact, nothing
would answer but th