Scenes and Characters | Page 7

led to a bridge across a clear trout stream, the boundary of the
parish of Beechcroft.

CHAPTER III

--THE NEW PRINCIPLE

'And wilt thou show no more, quoth he, Than doth thy duty bind? I well
perceive thy love is small.'
On the Sunday evening which followed Eleanor's wedding, Lilias was
sitting next to Emily, and talking in very earnest tones, which after a
time occasioned Claude to look up and say, 'What is all this about?
Something remarkably absurd I suspect.'
'Only a new principle,' said Emily.
'New!' cried Lily, 'only what must be the feeling of every person of any
warmth of character?'
'Now for it then,' said Claude.
'No, no, Claude, I really mean it (and Lily sincerely thought she did). I
will not tell you if you are going to laugh.'
'That depends upon what your principle may chance to be,' said Claude.
'What is it, Emily? She will be much obliged to you for telling.'
'She only says she cannot bear people to do their duty, and not to act
from a feeling of love,' said Emily.
'That is not fair,' returned Lily, 'all I say is, that it is better that people
should act upon love for its own sake, than upon duty for its own sake.'
'What comes in rhyme with Lily?' said Claude.
'Don't be tiresome, Claude, I really want you to understand me.'
'Wait till you understand yourself,' said the provoking brother, 'and let
me finish what I am reading.'
For about a quarter of an hour he was left in peace, while Lily was
busily employed with a pencil and paper, under the shadow of a book,
and at length laid before him the following verses:-
'What is the source of gentleness, The spring of human blessedness,
Bringing the wounded spirit healing, The comforts high of heaven
revealing, The lightener of each daily care, The wing of hope, the life
of prayer, The zest of joy, the balm of sorrow, Bliss of to-day, hope of
to-morrow, The glory of the sun's bright beam, The softness of the pale
moon stream, The flow'ret's grace, the river's voice, The tune to which
the birds rejoice; Without it, vain each learned page, Cold and unfelt
each council sage, Heavy and dull each human feature, Lifeless and
wretched every creature; In which alone the glory lies, Which value
gives to sacrifice? 'Tis that which formed the whole creation, Which

rests on every generation. Of Paradise the only token Just left us, 'mid
our treasures broken, Which never can from us be riven, Sure earnest of
the joys of Heaven. And which, when earth shall pass away, Shall be
our rest on the last day, When tongues shall fail and knowledge cease,
And throbbing hearts be all at peace: When faith is sight, and hope is
sure, That which alone shall still endure Of earthly joys in heaven
above, 'Tis that best gift, eternal Love!'
'What have you there?' said Mr. Mohun, who had come towards them
while Claude was reading the lines. Taking the paper from Claude's
hand, he read it to himself, and then saying, 'Tolerable, Lily; there are
some things to alter, but you may easily make it passable,' he went on
to his own place, leaving Lilias triumphant.
'Well, Claude, you see I have the great Baron on my side.'
'I am of the Baron's opinion,' said Claude, 'the only wonder is that you
doubted it.'
'You seemed to say that love was good for nothing.'
'I said nothing but that Lily has a rhyme.'
'And saying that I was silly, was equivalent to saying that love was
nothing,' said Lily.
'O Lily, I hope not,' said Claude, with a comical air.
'Well, I know I often am foolish, but not in this,' said Lily; 'I do say that
mere duty is not lovable.'
'Say it if you will then,' said Claude, yawning, 'only let me finish this
sermon.'
Lily set herself to reconsider some of her lines: but presently Emily left
the room, Claude looked up, and Lily exclaimed, 'Now, Claude, let us
make a trial of it.'
'Well,' said Claude, yawning again, and looking resigned.
'Think how Eleanor went on telling us of duty, duty, duty--never
making allowances--never relaxing her stiff rules about trifles-- never
unbending from her duenna-like dignity--never showing one spark of
enthusiasm--making great sacrifices, but only because she thought
them her duty--because it was right--good for herself--only a higher
kind of selfishness--not because her feeling prompted her.'
'Certainly, feeling does not usually prompt people to give up their
lovers for the sake of their brothers and sisters.'
'She did it because it was her duty,' said Lily, 'quite as if she did not

care.'
'I wonder whether Frank thought so,' said Claude.
'At any rate you will