ant fate watched and pursued
her, tearing her prize out of her hand just as she seemed to grasp it,
and leaving her with only rage and grief for her portion. Whatever her
feelings might have been of anger or of sorrow, (and I fear me that the
former emotion was that which most tore her heart,) she would take no
confidant, as people of softer natures would have done under such a
calamity; her mother and her kinsman knew that she would disdain their
pity, and that to offer it would be but to infuriate the cruel wound
which fortune had inflicted. We knew that her pride was awfully humbled
and punished by this sudden and terrible blow; she wanted no teaching of
ours to point out the sad moral of her story. Her fond mother could give
but her prayers, and her kinsman his faithful friendship and patience to
the unhappy, stricken creature; and it was only by hints, and a word or
two uttered months afterwards, that Beatrix showed she understood their
silent commiseration, and on her part was secretly thankful for their
forbearance. The people about the Court said there was that in her
manner which frightened away scoffing and condolence: she was above
their triumph and their pity, and acted her part in that dreadful
tragedy greatly and courageously; so that those who liked her least were
yet forced to admire her. We, who watched her after her disaster, could
not but respect the indomitable courage and majestic calm with which she
bore it. "I would rather see her tears than her pride," her mother said,
who was accustomed to bear her sorrows in a very different way, and
to receive them as the stroke of God, with an awful submission and
meekness. But Beatrix's nature was different to that tender parent's;
she seemed to accept her grief and to defy it; nor would she allow it (I
believe not even in private and in her own chamber) to extort from her
the confession of even a tear of humiliation or a cry of pain. Friends
and children of our race, who come after me, in which way will you bear
your trials? I know one that prays God will give you love rather than
pride, and that the Eye all-seeing shall find you in the humble place.
Not that we should judge proud spirits otherwise than charitably. 'Tis
nature hath fashioned some for ambition and dominion, as it hath formed
others for obedience and gentle submission. The leopard follows his
nature as the lamb does, and acts after leopard law; she can neither
help her beauty, nor her courage,