ively at the baronet; "and who is fitter to be a colonel or a
general, than a man who is not afraid of gunpowder?"

"Colonels must have been scarce in your youth, sir," cried John, who had
rather a mischievous propensity to start the old man on his hobby.

"No, jackanapes, gentlemen killed one another then, although they did not
torment the innocent birds: honor was as dear to a gentleman of George
the Second's court, as to those of his grandson's, and honesty too,
sirrah--ay, honesty. I remember when we were in, there was not a man of
doubtful integrity in the ministry, or on our side even; and then again,
when we went out, the opposition benches were filled with sterling
characters, making a parliament that was correct throughout. Can you show
me such a thing at this day?"

Chapter XXII.

A Few days after the arrival of the Moseleys at the lodge John drove his
sisters to the little village of L----, which at that time was thronged
with an unusual number of visiters. It had, among other fashionable
arrangements for the accommodation of its guests, one of those circulators
of good and evil, a public library. Books are, in a great measure, the
instruments of controlling the opinions of a nation like ours. They are an
engine, alike powerful to save or to destroy. It cannot be denied, that
our libraries contain as many volumes of the latter, as the former
description; for we rank amongst the latter that long catalogue of idle
productions, which, if they produce no other evil, lead to the misspending
of time, _our own_ perhaps included. But we cannot refrain expressing our
regret, that such formidable weapons in the cause of morality, should be
suffered to be wielded by any indifferent or mercenary dealer, who
undoubtedly will consult rather the public tastes than the private good:
the evil may be remediless, yet we love to express our sentiments, though
we should suggest nothing new or even profitable. Into one of these haunts
of the idle, then, John Moseley entered with a lovely sister leaning on
either arm. Books were the entertainers of Jane, and instructors of Emily.
Sir Edward was fond of reading of a certain sort--that which required no
great depth of thought, or labor of research; and, like most others who
are averse to contention, and disposed to be easily satisfied, the baronet
sometimes found he had harbored opinions on things not exactly
reconcileable with the truth, or even with each other. It is qu