of this our mortal being, provided only that happiness knows
from whom it comes, and that misery and misfortune are alleviated by
religion. Thus Electra appears before us at her Father's Tomb, the
virgin-wife of the peasant Auturgus, who reverently abstains from the
intact body of the daughter of the king. Look into Shakespeare. Rosalind
was not so lovable at court as in the woods. Her beauty might have been
more brilliant, and her conversation too, among lords and ladies; but
more touching both, because true to tenderer nature, when we see and
hear her in dialogue with the neat-herdess--ROSALIND and _Audrey_! And
trickles not the tear down thy cheek, fair reader--burns not the heart
within thee, when thou thinkest of Florizel and Perdita on the Farm in
the Forest?

Nor from those visions need we fear to turn to Sybil Lesley. We see her
in Elvar Tower, a high-born Lady--in Dalgonar Glen, a humble bondmaid.
The change might have been the reverse--as with the lassie beloved by
the Gentle Shepherd. Both are best. The bust that gloriously set off the
burnishing of the rounded silk, not less divinely shrouded its
enchantment beneath the swelling russet. Graceful in bower or hall were
those arms, and delicate those fingers when moving white along the rich
embroidery, or across the strings of the sculptured harp; nor less so
when before the cottage door they woke the homely music of the humming
wheel, or when on the brae beside the Pool, they playfully intertwined
their softness with the new-washed fleeces, or when among the laughing
lasses at the Linn, not loth were they to lay out the coarse linen in
the bleaching sunshine, conspicuous She the while among the rustic
beauties, as was Nausicaa of old among her nymphs at the Fountain.

We are in love with Sybil Lesley. She is full of _spunk_. That is not a
vulgar word; or if it have been so heretofore, henceforth let it cease
to be so, and be held synonymous with spirit. She shows it in her
defiance of Sir Ralph on the shore of Solway--in her flight from the
Tower of Elvar; and the character she displays then and there, prepares
us for the part she plays in the peasant's cot in the glen of Dalgonar.
We are not surprised to see her take so kindly to the duties of a rustic
service; for we call to mind how she sat among the humble good-folks in
the hall, when Thrift and Waste figured in that rude but wise Morality,
and how the gracious lady showed she sympathised with the cares an