omb, will be branded by mine as man-stealers and
murderers; and the stain of it consequently annexed to your memory.'"

But, alas! the Abolitionist will not reflect. He lives in a whirlpool,
whither he has been drawn by his own rashness. What to him is the love of
country, or the memory of Washington? John Randolph said, "I should have
been a French Atheist had not my mother made me kneel beside her as she
folded my little hands, and taught me to say, 'Our Father.'" Remember
this, mothers in America; and imprint upon the fair tablet of your young
child's heart, a reverence for the early institutions of their country, and
for the patriots who moulded them, that "God and my country" may be the
motto of their lives.

CHAPTER XXII.

"Alice," said Mrs. Weston, as they sat together one morning, before it was
time to dress for dinner, "if you choose, I will read to you the last part
of Cousin Janet's letter. You know, my daughter, of Walter's gay course in
Richmond, and it is as I always feared. There is a tendency to recklessness
and dissipation in Walter's disposition. With what a spirit of deep
thankfulness you should review the last few months of your life! I have
sometimes feared I was unjust to Walter. My regret at the attachment for
him which you felt at one time, became a personal dislike, which I
acknowledge, I was wrong to yield to; but I think we both acted naturally,
circumstanced as we were. Dear as you are to me, I would rather see you
dead than the victim of an unhappy marriage. Love is not blind, as many
say. I believe the stronger one's love is, the more palpable the errors of
its object. It was so with me, and it would be so with you. That you have
conquered this attachment is the crowning blessing of my life, even should
you choose never to consummate your engagement with Arthur. I will, at
least, thank God that you are not the wife of a man whose violent passions,
even as a child, could not be controlled, and who is destitute of a spark
of religious principle. I will now read you what Cousin Janet says.

"'I have received a long letter from Mr. C., the Episcopal
clergyman in Richmond, in answer to mine, inquiring of Walter. All
that I feared is true. Walter is not only gay, but dissipated. Mr.
C. says he has called to see him repeatedly, and invited him to
his house, and has done all that he could to interest him in those
pleasures that are innocent and ennobling; but, alas