one day be thankful to be found!

Is this castle too

grand, its inhabitants too good, for those whose home will be heaven, whose companions the angels?"

Mrs. Hope, as the reader may have observed, was a very proud woman, one ready to worship rank, whoever might possess it. She was of rather low origin herself, which was perhaps one reason why she always avowed herself most particular in regard to the company that she kept. No virtue, with her, could weigh against a coronet; she valued her acquaintance-for such characters have few friends—according to their position in society. To be a companion of the nobility was her delight; to become one of them was the object of her highest ambition. For this she encouraged her husband's efforts for advancement, and had been delighted to see him a Member for Parliament. Her own poor

relations were, of course, kept at a distance; no one bearing her maiden name of Briggs had ever been known to cross the threshold of Castle Fontonore except her brother, an attorney, who once ventured in, but was never even asked to break bread in the house, and who left his sister's presence with a clouded brow, and a determination never to trouble her again. The proud worldly woman never reflected that in another state, where the high and the low, the great and the humble, shall meet together, her love of distinction, her pride of display, should appear as lighter than vanity.

:

What could be expected from the daughter of such a parent? Even a strong mind might have been ruined by the education which she received; and Clementina, who was naturally of but slender intellect, was quite spoiled by the society in which she was brought up. At a fashionable school she had learned a few accomplishments, and a great deal of folly admiration, amusement, excitement, these were the three things upon which her whole heart was set; all that she lived for was comprised in these three words. The quiet serenity of a soul that rests on one unchanging object, was of course never known to her. The slightest incident was sufficient to raise her spirits to a wild height, or sink them to the point of misery; she was transported at an invitation to a ball, wretched if a dressmaker failed her. She was like a fluttering butterfly, shining in its gay colours, driven about by every breeze on its unsteady, uncertain course. But I wrong the insect in making the comparison. The butterfly fills its allotted place in creation-it does all that its Maker intended it to do; while the frivolous, silly, selfish girl remains a blank, or rather a blot, in God's world, when she who is called to the work and the destiny of angels makes that of a butterfly her deliberate choice.

It is just possible that some thoughtless girl, whose education and character may resemble Clementina's, may in some vacant hour of leisure turn over the leaves of

my little book.

Oh, that I had an angel's voice, to rouse her to a sense of what she is and what she might be to make her feel that she is not her own, but bought with a price, such a price as the world could not have paid;—that a soul which must exist for ever and ever that a soul for which a God bled, agonized, and died is a thing too noble, a thing too precious to be thrown away at Vanity Fair.

CHAPTER XVI.

NEW AND OLD COMPANIONS.

HE Sabbath came, God's holy day, and the family attended a church which was at some

little distance. Mr. and Mrs. Hope and their

daughter, the ladies arrayed in all the splendour of fashion, went in state in the carriage, with two footmen in attendance, while the boys preferred walking over the fields with their tutor.

Ernest, as he entered the church, drew the eyes of the whole congregation upon himself, which made him more uncomfortable than ever. "Am I not to escape even here from Vanity Fair?" thought he; even these walls shut out the world!"

cannot

Straight in front of the seat which he occupied was a marble monument of singular beauty, which naturally attracted his attention. It represented the figure of a very lovely babe, sleeping amongst water-lilies, the attitude and countenance depicting the peaceful slumber of innocence. Below was an inscription, which the boy read with strange emotion :—

After service was over, Clementina took a fancy-for she was always governed by fancies-to walk home with her cousins instead of driving with her parents. She therefore pursued the path across the fields with Ernest, whilst Charles and his tutor walked a little way behind.

"I was so much diverted at church," said the young lady, in the flippant manner which she mistook for wit, "I was so much diverted to see you looking so seriously at the inscription upon your own monument. It was so funny, I could hardly help bursting out laughing, only that would have been very improper, you know.”

"The inscription made me feel anything but inclined to laugh," observed Ernest.