t
reigneth, but an angel whispered it in his ear, and strengthened him,
and he defied the lion, and smote him, and killed the lion. Thus doth
the Lord continue to perform his marvellous works, for he is faithful
and true, and his mercy endureth for ever to them that love him."

Of course, Armstrong could have no correct idea of what Holden alluded
to, nor did he inquire. It was to him only another instance, added by
his enthusiastic friend, to the long catalogue of those in the
sacred record, for whom faith had triumphed over danger, and wrought
deliverance.

"It is, indeed," he said, "a mighty means to bring down the divine
blessing."

"As is the law of gravitation to the worlds," said Holden, looking out
upon the clear sky, filled with stars, "which is the constant force
flowing from the living centre of all things, and retaining them in
harmonious movement in their orbits; so is faith to the human soul.
When it is present all is peace, and harmony, and joy; when it is
absent, a wild chaos, whirling in darkness and confusion, over which
the Spirit hath never brooded like a dove."

At this moment the door opened, and Miss Armstrong, attended by
William Bernard, entered the room. She advanced towards Holden, and
gave him her hand, which he took into both of his, and looking fondly
at her, said:

"Dear child, thy mother's image, the room is brighter for thy
presence."

"There, William," said Faith, smiling, "a lady seldom receives so
delicate a compliment."

"Mr. Holden," said Bernard, "belongs to the old school of politeness,
of which Sir Charles Grandison is the model. Modern degeneracy might
strive in vain to compete with it."

There was a slight, a very slight, an almost imperceptible tone of
irony about the words, which did not escape the sensitive ear of
Holden. He turned towards Bernard, and fastened his large eyes upon
him, in silence, awhile, before he said:

"The secret of politeness is to be found in warmth and goodness of
heart. Flame blazes not up from ice." The words, the tone, the look,
conveyed his estimate of the character of the young man, and was not
without influence on one, at least, of his auditors. "But," continued
he, "thy presence, Faith, is truly, to me, as light. Deemest thou me
capable of unmeaning compliments?"

"No," answered Faith, suspecting the little feeling of resentment, and
desirous to soothe it, "I do not. Forgive my absurd observation."

"And I hope," said Bernard, i