ive knowledge of the world and mankind.

Chapter XLIV.

During the time occupied by the foregoing events, Francis continued a
gloomy inmate of his uncle's house. The duke and his brother George were
too indolent and inactive in their minds to pierce the cloud that
mortification and deadened affections had drawn around the real character
of their nephew; and although he was tolerated as the heir, he was but
little loved as a man.

In losing his brother, Francis lost the only human being with whom he
possessed any sympathies in common; and he daily drew more and more into
himself, in gloomy meditation on his forlorn situation, in the midst of
wealth and expected honors. The attentions he received were paid to his
rank, and Francis had penetration enough to perceive it. His visits to his
parents were visits of ceremony, and in time all parties came to look to
their termination with pleasure, as to the discontinuance of heartless and
forced civilities.

Affection, even in the young man, could not endure, repulsed as his
feelings were, for ever; and in the course of three years, if his
attachments were not alienated from his parents, his ardor had become much
abated.

It is a dreadful truth, that the bonds of natural affection can be broken
by injustice and contumely; and it is yet more to be deplored, that when
from such causes we loosen the ties habit and education have drawn around
us, a reaction in our feelings commences; we seldom cease to love, but we
begin to hate. Against such awful consequences it is one of the most
solemn duties of the parent to provide in season; and what surer
safeguard is there, than to inculcate those feelings which teach the mind
to love God, and in so doing induce love to the whole human family?

Sir Frederick and Lady Margaret attended the church regularly, repeated
the responses with much decency, toasted the church next to the king, even
appeared at the altars of their God, and continued sinners. From such
sowings, no good fruit could be expected to flourish: yet Francis was not
without his hours of devotion; but his religion was, like himself,
reserved, superstitious, ascetic, and gloomy. He never entered into social
worship: if he prayed it was with an ill-concealed wish to end this life
of care. If he returned thanks, it was with a bitterness that mocked the
throne before which he was prostrate. Such pictures are revolting; but
their originals have and do exist; for what