pt his goodness upon a stretch, if not beyond all human
power, certainly beyond his own. For "admiration" (as it is well said
somewhere) "is a kind of superstition which expects miracles." From
nature this gentleman had received an inordinate share of animal
propensities: he had strong passions, he was by temperament a
sensualist. He loved good eating and good wine--he loved women. The
two former blessings of the carnal life are not incompatible with
canonisation; but St. Anthony has shown that women, however angelic, are
not precisely that order of angels that saints may safely commune with.
If, therefore, he ever yielded to temptations of a sexual nature, it was
with profound secrecy and caution; nor did his right hand know what his
left hand did.

This gentleman had married a woman much older than himself, but her
fortune had been one of the necessary stepping-stones in his career. His
exemplary conduct towards this lady, ugly as well as old, had done much
towards increasing the odour of his sanctity. She died of an ague, and
the widower did not shock probabilities by affecting too severe a grief.

"The Lord's will be done!" said he; "she was a good woman, but we should
not set our affections too much upon His perishable creatures!"

This was all he was ever heard to say on the matter. He took an elderly
gentlewoman, distantly related to him, to manage his house, and sit at
the head of the table; and it was thought not impossible, though the
widower was past fifty, that he might marry again.

Such was the gentleman called in by Mrs. Leslie, who, of the same
religious opinions, had long known and revered him, to decide the
affairs of Alice and of Conscience.

As this man exercised no slight or fugitive influence over Alice
Darvil's destinies, his counsels on the point in discussion ought to be
fairly related.

"And now," said Mrs. Leslie, concluding the history, "you will perceive,
my dear sir, that this poor young creature has been less culpable than
she appears. From the extraordinary proficiency she has made in music,
in a time that, by her own account, seems incredibly short; I
should suspect her unprincipled betrayer must have been an artist--a
professional man. It is just possible that they may meet again, and (as
the ranks between them cannot be so very disproportionate) that he may
marry her. I am sure that he could not do a better or a wiser thing, for
she loves him too fondly, despite her wrongs. Under