erity having, though it could not harden his heart, still sapped
the habits of perseverance, so by little and little the image of
the dying Catherine, and the thought of her sons, faded from his
remembrance. And for this there was the more excuse after the receipt of
an anonymous letter, which relieved all his apprehensions on behalf of
Sidney. The letter was short, and stated simply that Sidney Morton had
found a friend who would protect him throughout life; but who would not
scruple to apply to Beaufort if ever he needed his assistance. So one
son, and that the youngest and the best loved, was safe. And the other,
had he not chosen his own career? Alas, poor Catherine! when you fancied
that Philip was the one sure to force his way into fortune, and Sidney
the one most helpless, how ill did you judge of the human heart! It
was that very strength of Philip's nature which tempted the winds that
scattered the blossoms, and shook the stem to its roots; while the
lighter and frailer nature bent to the gale, and bore transplanting to a
happier soil. If a parent read these pages, let him pause and think well
on the characters of his children; let him at once fear and hope the
most for the one whose passions and whose temper lead to a struggle with
the world. That same world is a tough wrestler, and has a bear's gripe.

Meanwhile, Arthur Beaufort's own complaints, which grew serious and
menaced consumption, recalled his thoughts more and more every day to
himself. He was compelled to abandon his career at the University,
and to seek for health in the softer breezes of the South. His parents
accompanied him to Nice; and when, at the end of a few months, he was
restored to health, the desire of travel seized the mind and attracted
the fancy of the young heir. His father and mother, satisfied with
his recovery, and not unwilling that he should acquire the polish of
Continental intercourse, returned to England; and young Beaufort, with
gay companions and munificent income, already courted, spoiled, and
flattered, commenced his tour with the fair climes of Italy.

So, O dark mystery of the Moral World!--so, unlike the order of the
External Universe, glide together, side by side, the shadowy steeds
of NIGHT AND MORNING. Examine life in its own world; confound not that
world, the inner one, the practical one, with the more visible, yet
airier and less substantial system, doing homage to the sun, to whose
throne, afar in the infinite