England, that the mere possession of wealth and property did not confer on their owners the right of universal dominion in society. Thus situated, the haughty heirs of oriental grandeur, the richly-freighted merchant, the casual inheritor of accumulated legacies, the lately-gifted fortune-hunter, were constrained to feel that they no longer held the empire over the souls of men which they had been wont. But pride could not be so easily subdued in the hearts of these idols of fortune, so that they were obliged to have recourse to other measures, (the safety-valves, as it were, of their constitutions,) for the purpose of gratifying their darling passion. Sunday Schools, which had struggled for years with patient virtue, suddenly found ne patronesses, and while they lost some part of their orginal independence, partook most abundantly of unexpected opulence. Charitable institutions of all kinds, hospitals, societies for the avowed promotion of good, all caught the genial torrent in its flow, and although these benefactions excited for a time the surprise of the many, their cause might be easily traced to the new light which had arisen in the minds of these moneyed grandees. The rude, unshodden peasant shuddered to find himself caressed by the dame of high degree. Literature dawned upon the unlearned, and the most uncouth tenant of the plain was suddenly consigned to the schoolmaster and the patroness.

Mrs. Hamilton's wealth was immense, almost unbounded. The widow of a banker whose capital had been accustomed to double itself during each interval of seven years, the infinity of her resources had placed great advantages at her disposal.

Her family consisted of a son, Augustus, and three daughters, of whom, Jane, the second, was esteemed the prettiest.

It might be supposed, that Alderbury Park was a display of gorgeous pageantry, blazoned with every ornament, and adorned with all the gilded finery of a toyshop, that its inmates were distinguished for their dazzling and expensive apparel, and that ostentation glowed throughout every department. Not so: Mrs. Hamilton had not so ill availed herself of the modern tactics of society, as to allow so conspicuous an array of undis

guised arrogance. Her dress, and that of her daughters, were studiously simple; even her domestics were restrained with all practicable strictness from parade in clothes, and a more offensive person could not be seen at her gate than a powdered and silked lacquey. The house, too, was in keeping with the external humility, and, which was more strange, the only son, the squire, affected a plainness and condescension which were irresistible.

This conduct, added to their extensive charities, made the family of the Hamiltons, in the eyes of the neigbourhood, patterns of modesty and virtue. But although thus outwardly unostentatious, Mrs. Hamilton was cautious of introductions, and took care to conciliate by every possible art the noblesse and higher gentry of the county. For this purpose, she was not sparing of her invitations, nor, if they were accepted, of her dainties. Then it was, that profusion and elegance were rivals in her banquets, and the frugal cover yielded to the costliest delicacies. Her daughters too, still plain and unadorned, were instructed on those occasions to strain their efforts to please, and to display all their accomplishments; a part which they fulfilled with the strictest obedience, for what young lady does not flutter at the sight of a coronet, and what mother regards not with envy an alliance with nobility?

Idle were the complaints of the Dobbinses, and the Browns, of the villages, of that truly unpretending class, who breathe but for tales of gentle gossip, and who comprehended not the gulf-like distinction which lay between them and the objects of their displeasure. In vain they proclaimed the genealogies of the Hamiltons in the tea-sipping circles around them; the rich heard them not, and the poor (until the happening of a circumstance which shall be related by and by) were captivated by the generosity of these new patrons, and obedient to the hand which fed them, sounded aloud the gratitude and devotion which they felt.

The acquaintance between this opulent family and the Mortimers had arisen, as is the case with most introductions among strangers, by accident. Mrs. Hamilton was pleased with the gay and easy manners of the young land-owner, and her daughters viewed him with

an eye no less favourable. All knew the pretensions which he had to family, and imagined, besides, that his fortune was equal to his rank. Jane, the second daughter, in particular, admired the address which distinguished Mortimer, and which he had inherited from his father; and as a preference of this sort is not slow of discovery, a mutual regard soon sprang up between a sprightly lad of two-and-twenty and a fair damsel of nineteen. Neither, however, entertained any idea that they were in earnest, for Mortimer, as we have seen, never dreamed of a marriage-contract, and Jane Hamilton was too strongly beset by the attentions of others, some wooing her, some her fortune, to be irrecoverably entangled in the first campaign. However, certain it is, that an attachment existed on both sides, yet with so slender a foresight, that the want of noble blood might be urged with as much probability on the one hand, if the matter should become serious, as the inequality of wealth on the other. Of the progress of this courtship, of the rivals which Mortimer met with, and various incidents of importance which took place at this moment, we shall proceed to speak in subsequent chapters.

CHAPTER II.

THE CALVINISTS.

"Hypocrisy is folly. It is much easier, safer, and pleasanter to be the thing which a man aims to appear, than to keep up the appearance of what he is not."-CECIL.

EACH of the young ladies at Alderbury Park had her share of admirers, and we may add, supposed admirers, as one sometimes speaks of a manor, or reputed manor, For, fond of triumph, and the "swelling train" of captives, the gay and beauteous bells of every age delight in ideas of extended conquest, feeling, in the fulness of their power, those magic words of Cæsar, "I came, I saw, I conquered." But of this gaudy group of flatter

ers, few, indeed, will venture beyond the very brim of the cup, conscious, like some crafty wasp on the brink of sweets, that to fall below would commit them to a hopeless struggle.

Jane Hamilton was more fortunate than her sisters, -than her neighbours; indeed, it may be said, than her sex in general, considering the vast and increasing monopoly of club-houses. She had, perhaps, three serious suitors, two of whom, though under the ban of a refusal, yet lingered on in soul-alluring hope; the third was Roger Mortimer. Of the first, little need be said, because, notwithstanding his being the principal in a duel, which will be mentioned before the chapter closes, his name is otherwise of little importance in this history. He was the soft-hearted son of a country gentleman, whose residence lay at no great distance from the park, and was tempted to his grand experiment more through the importunities of a coaxing mother, than his own natural desire either for adventure or for a change of his condition. Miss Hamilton had declined his advances, in a manner which betokened as much contempt as decision, and he retired to his chimney corner, which he loved, to hear the consolations of his doating parent, and imbibe from her fresh expectations of overcoming his obdurate beauty. Passing him by for the present, we introduce a different character on the stage.

James Priminheere was descended from the Priminheeres of Callow Hall. He had one brother, Charles, and these two represented that ancient house, their parents having long since left them in possession of the family estate. They could trace their ancestry from a remote period, though it had been but lately that the name had been admitted among the gentry of Bedfordshire; for their forefathers had made common cause with the Buttons, the Hallinghams, and the Udalls, those early Puritans in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, and endured the various fortunes which befel that devoted body of men during a period of nearly two centuries. Emancipated at length from the scourge of active persecution, they still shared, in common with many of their brethren, the obloquy and neglect which so often pursue those who dissent from a vast majority,

It was even as lately as the beginning of the nineteenth century, that the professors of methodism and puritanism had no cause to shrink from a public avowal of their religious sentiments.

Titus Priminheere, the father of the James and Charles above mentioned, succeeded, under political circumstances of great advantage, to the property which amidst many wrecks and revolutions still remained to him. The Dissenters had increased in numbers; amongst them the Calvinists (to which particular sect Mr. Priminheere belonged): the spirit of the age favoured a far more liberal state of things than had ever existed, or could have been imagined by the most sanguine; the government of the country felt the necessity of securing the affections of every man in the kingdom, and the Separatists of all sorts were regarded on all sides, even by high Mother Church, with more respect than heretofore, and occasionally even with distinction. Yet, at the very moment when it no longer became dangerous or disgraceful to espouse the cause which conscience approved, (such is the will of Providence, or the perversion of reason, or the instability of human affairs, as people may choose to call it,) luxury, ease and carelessness crept in tranquilly on the other side. These syrens lulled to sleep the descendants of those same men who had suffered and even fought for so many years, that simplicity and self-denial might, in their persons at least, be substituted for display and indulgence.

But Titus Priminheere had not retrograded at once from the primitive plainness of his profession. Living in affluence as he did, he yet maintained for some time the rigid discipline of those who had gone before him, amidst the wiles of luxury, and the temptations of extravagance. He never entirely abandoned the fastnesses of his education, nor surrendered himself to intemperance and vice; but while he thus refrained from violating the principles of the sect by his own example, he allowed his children more than the customary freedom of old. Pride, too, would make strange inroads upon him during the latter years of his life, so that he exclaimed, if not in voice, in heart: "Behold the goodly heritage which I have chosen!" It was rumoured in his neighbourhood, that at the last hour his end was not undisturbed;