t and most enduring spirits.
There was the retirement of Horace and Mecaenas: there Brutus forgot his
harsher genius; and there the inscrutable and profound Augustus indulged
in those graceful relaxations-those sacrifices to wit, and poetry, and
wisdom--which have made us do so unwilling and reserved a justice to the
crimes of his earlier and the hypocrisy of his later years. Here, again,
is a reproach to your ambition," added Godolphin, smiling; "his ambition
made Augustus odious; his occasional forgetfulness of ambition alone
redeems him."

"And what, then," said Constance, "would you consider inactivity
the happiest life for one sensible of talents higher than the common
standard?"

"Nay, let those talents be devoted to the discovery of pleasures,
not the search after labours; the higher our talents, the keener our
perceptions; the keener our perceptions the more intense our capacities
for pleasure:(1)--let pleasure then, be our object. Let us find out what
is best fitted to give our peculiar tastes gratification, and, having
found out, steadily pursue it."

"Out on you! it is a selfish, an ignoble system," said Constance. "You
smile--well, I may be unphilosophical, I do not deny it. But, give
me one hour of glory, rather than a life of luxurious indolence. Oh,
would," added Constance, kindling as she spoke, "that you--you, Mr.
Godolphin,--with an intellect so formed for high accomplishment--with
all the weapons and energies of life at your command,--would that
you could awaken to a more worthy estimate--pardon me--of the uses of
exertion! Surely, surely, you must be sensible of the calls that your
country, that mankind, have at this epoch of the world, upon all--all,
especially, possessing your advantages and powers. Can we pierce one
inch beyond the surface of society, and not see that great events are
hastening to their birth? Will you let those inferior to yourself hurry
on before you, and sit inactive while they win the reward? Will you have
no share in the bright drama that is already prepared behind the dark
curtain of fate, and which will have a world for its spectators? Ah, how
rejoiced, how elated with myself I should feel, if I could will over one
like you to the great cause of honourable exertion!"

For one instant Godolphin's eye sparkled, and his pale cheek burned--but
the transient emotion faded away as he answered--

"Eight years ago, when she who spoke to me was Constance Vernon, her
wish might