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things in which that professed instructor and Mentor of

the public, the editor of the Active Inquirer, had made a false

estimate of himself, as well as of his fellow-creatures. That such a

man should be ignorant, is to be expected, as he had never been

instructed; that he was self-sufficient was owing to his ignorance,

which oftener induces vanity than modesty; that he was intolerant and

bigoted, follows as a legitimate effect of his provincial and

contracted habits; that he was a hypocrite, came from his homage of

the people; and that one thus constituted, should be permitted,

periodically, to pour out his vapidity, folly, malice, envy, and

ignorance, on his fellow-creatures, in the columns of a newspaper,

was owing to a state of society in which the truth of the wholesome

adage "that what is every man's business is nobody's business," is

exemplified not only daily, but hourly, in a hundred other interests

of equal magnitude, as well as to a capital mistake, that leads the

community to fancy that whatever is done in their time, is done for

their good.

 

As the "Fun of Fire" had, by this time, exhibited most of its

beauties, the party belonging to the Wigwam left the balcony, and,

the evening proving mild, they walked into the grounds of the

building, where they naturally broke into groups, conversing on the

incidents of the day, or of such other matters as came uppermost.

Occasionally, gleams of light were thrown across them from a fire-

ball; or a rocket's starry train was still seen drawn in the air,

resembling the wake of a ship at night, as it wades through the

ocean.

 

Chapter XXII.

 

                             Gentle Octavia, Let your best love draw

to that point, which seeks But to preserve it.

 

ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.

 

We shall not say it was an accident that brought Paul and Eve side by

side, and a little separated from the others; for a secret sympathy

had certainly exercised its influence over both, and probably

contributed as much as any thing else towards bringing about the

circumstance. Although the Wigwam stood in the centre of the village,

its grounds covered several acres, and were intersected with winding

walks, and ornamented with shrubbery, in the well-known English

style, improvements also of John Effingham; for, while the climate

and forests of America offer so many inducements to encourage

landscape gardening, it is the branch of art that, of all the other

ornamental arts, is perhaps the least known in this country. It is

true, time had not yet brought the labours of the projector to

perfection, in this instance; but enough had been done to afford very

extensive, varied, and pleasing walks. The grounds were broken, and

John Effingham had turned the irregularities to good account, by

planting and leading paths among them, to the great amusement of the

lookers-on, however, who, like true disciples of the Manhattanese

economy, had already begun to calculate the cost of what they termed

grading the lawns, it being with them as much a matter of course to

bring pleasure grounds down to a mathematical surface, as to bring a

rail-road route down to the proper level.

 

Through these paths, and among the irregularities, groves, and

shrubberies, just mentioned, the party began to stroll; one group

taking a direction eastward, another south, and a third westward, in

a way soon to break them up into five or six different divisions.

These several portions of the company ere long got to move in

opposite directions, by taking the various paths, and while they

frequently met, they did not often re-unite. As has been already

intimated, Eve and Paul were alone, for the first time in their

lives, under circumstances that admitted of an uninterrupted

confidential conversation. Instead of profiting immediately, however,

by this unusual occurrence, as many of our readers may anticipate,

the young man continued the discourse, in which the whole party had

been engaged when they entered the gate that communicated with the

street.

 

"I know not whether you felt the same embarrassment as myself, to-

day, Miss Effingham," he said, "when the orator was dilating on the

glories of the republic, and on the high honours that accompany the

American name. Certainly, though a pretty extensive traveller, I have

never yet been able to discover that it is any advantage abroad to be

one of the 'fourteen millions of freemen.'"

 

"Are we to attribute the mystery that so long hung over your birth-

place, to this fact," Eve asked, a little pointedly.

 

"If I have made any seeming mystery, as to the place of my birth, it

has been involuntary on my part, Miss Effingham, so far as you, at

least, have been concerned. I may not have thought myself authorized

to introduce my own history into our little discussions, but I am not

conscious of aiming at any unusual concealments. At Vienna, and in

Switzerland, we met as travellers; and now that you appear disposed

to accuse me of concealment, I may retort, and say that, neither you

nor your father ever expressly stated in my presence that you were

Americans."

 

"Was that necessary, Mr. Powis?"

 

"Perhaps not; and I am wrong to draw a comparison between my own

insignificance, and the eclat that attended you and your movements."

 

"Nay," interrupted Eve, "do not misconceive me. My father felt an

interest in you, quite naturally, after what had occurred on the lake

of Lucerne, and I believe he was desirous of making you out a

countryman,--a pleasure that he has at length received."

 

"To own the truth, I was never quite certain, until my last visit to

England, on which side of the Atlantic I was actually born, and to

this uncertainty, perhaps, may be attributed some of that

cosmopolitism to which I made so many high pretensions in our late

passage."

 

"Not know where you were born!" exclaimed Eve, with an involuntary

haste, that she immediately repented.

 

"This, no doubt, sounds odd to you, Miss Effingham, who have always

been the pride and solace of a most affectionate father, but it has

never been my good fortune to know either parent. My mother, who was

the sister of Ducie's mother, died at my birth, and the loss of my

father even preceded hers. I may be said to have been born an

orphan."

 

Eve, for the first time in her life, had taken his arm, and the young

man felt the gentle pressure of her little hand, as she permitted

this expression of sympathy to escape her, at a moment she found so

intensely interesting to herself.

 

"It was, indeed, a misfortune, Mr. Powis, and I fear you were put

into the navy through the want of those who would feel a natural

concern in your welfare."

 

"The navy was my own choice; partly, I think, from a certain love of

adventure, and quite as much, perhaps, with a wish to settle the

question of my birth-place, practically at least, by enlisting in the

service of the one that I first knew, and certainly best loved."

 

"But of that birth-place, I understand there is now no doubt?" said

Eve, with more interest than she was herself conscious of betraying.

 

"None whatever; I am a native of Philadelphia; that point was

conclusively settled in my late visit to my aunt, Lady Dunluce, who

was present at my birth."

 

"Is Lady Dunluce also an American?"

 

"She is; never having quitted the country until after her marriage to

Colonel Ducie. She was a younger sister of my mother's, and,

notwithstanding some jealousies and a little coldness that I trust

have now disappeared, I am of opinion she loved her; though one can

hardly answer for the durability of the family ties in a country

where the institutions and habits are as artificial as in England."

 

"Do you think there is less family affection, then, in England than

in America?"

 

"I will not exactly say as much, though I am of opinion that neither

country is remarkable in that way. In England, among the higher

classes, it is impossible that the feelings should not be weakened by

so many adverse interests. When a brother knows that nothing stands

between himself and rank and wealth, but the claims of one who was

born a twelvemonth earlier than himself, he gets to feel more like a

rival than a kinsman, and the temptation to envy or dislike, or even

hatred, sometimes becomes stronger than the duty to love."

 

"And yet the English, themselves, say that the services rendered by

the elder to the younger brother, and the gratitude of the younger to

the elder, are so many additional ties."

 

"It would be contrary to all the known laws of feeling, and all

experience, if this were so. The younger applies to the elder for aid

in preference to a stranger, because he thinks he has a claim; and

what man who fancies he has a claim, is disposed to believe justice

is fully done him; or who that is required to discharge a duty,

imagines he has not done more than could be properly asked?"

 

"I fear your opinion of men is none of the best, Mr. Powis!"

 

"There may be exceptions, but such I believe to be the common fate of

humanity. The moment a duty is created, a disposition to think it

easily discharged follows; and of all sentiments, that of a continued

and exacting gratitude is the most oppressive. I fear more brothers

are aided, through family pride, than through natural affection."

 

"What, then, loosens the tie among ourselves, where no law of

primogeniture exists?"

 

"That which loosens every thing. A love of change that has grown up

with the migratory habits of the people; and which, perhaps, is, in

some measure, fostered by the institutions. Here is Mr. Bragg to

confirm what I say, and we may hear his sentiments on this subject."

 

As Aristabulus, with whom walked Mr. Dodge, just at that moment came

out of the shrubbery, and took the same direction with themselves,

Powis put the question, as one addresses an acquaintance in a room.

 

"Rotation in feelings, sir," returned Mr. Bragg, "is human nature, as

rotation in office is natural justice. Some of our people are of

opinion that it might be useful could the whole of society be made

periodically to change places, in order that every one might know how

his neighbour lives."

 

"You are, then, an Agrarian, Mr. Bragg?"

 

"As far from it as possible; nor do I believe you will find such an

animal in this county. Where property is concerned, we are a people

that never let go, as long as we can hold on, sir; but, beyond this

we like lively changes. Now, Miss Effingham, every body thinks

frequent changes of religious instructors in particular, necessary.

There can be no vital piety without, keeping the flame alive with

excitement."

 

"I confess, sir, that my own reasoning would lead to a directly

contrary conclusion, and that there can be no vital piety, as you

term it, _with_ excitement."

 

Mr. Bragg looked at Mr. Dodge, and Mr. Dodge looked at Mr. Bragg.

Then each shrugged his shoulders, and the former continued the

discourse.

 

"That may be the case in France, Miss Effingham," he said, "but, in

America, we look to excitement as the great purifier. We should as

soon expect the air in the bottom of a well to be elastic, as that

the moral atmosphere shall be clear and salutary, without the breezes

of excitement. For my part, Mr. Dodge, I think no man should be a

judge, in the same court, more than ten years at a time, and a priest

gets to be rather common-place and flat after five. There are men

that may hold out a little longer, I acknowledge; but to keep real,

vital, soul-saving regeneration stirring, a change should take place

as often as once in five years, in a parish; that is my opinion, at

least."

 

"But, sir," rejoined Eve, "as the laws of religion are immutable, the

modes by which it is known universal, and the promises, mediation,

and obligations are every where the same, I do not see what you

propose to gain by so many changes."

 

"Why, Miss Effingham, we change the dishes at table, and no family of

my acquaintance, more than this of your honourable father's; and I am

surprised to find you opposed to the system."

 

"Our religion, sir," answered Eve, gravely, "is a duty, and rests on

revelation and obedience; while our diet may, very innocently, be a

matter of mere taste, even of caprice, if you will."

 

"Well, I confess I see no great difference, the main object in this

life being to stir people up, and to go ahead. I presume you know,

Miss Eve, that many people think that we ought to change our own

parson, if we expect a blessing on the congregation."

 

"I should sooner expect a curse would follow an act of so much

heartlessness, sir. Our clergyman has been with us since his entrance

into the duties of his holy office; and it will be difficult to

suppose that the