The Bracelets | Page 7

me. Animated with this hope of a double triumph,
Cecilia canvassed with the most zealous activity; by constant attention
and exertion she had considerably abated the violence of her temper,
and changed the course of her habits. Her powers of pleasing were now
excited, instead of her abilities to excel; and, if her talents appeared less
brilliant, her character was acknowledged to be more amiable; so great
an influence upon our manners and conduct have the objects of our
ambition. Cecilia was now, if possible, more than ever desirous of
doing what was right, but she had not yet acquired sufficient fear of
doing wrong. This was the fundamental error of her mind; it arose in a
great measure from her early education.
Her mother died when she was very young; and though her father had
supplied her place in the best and kindest manner, he had insensibly
infused into his daughter's mind a portion of that enterprising,
independent spirit, which he justly deemed essential to the character of
her brother. This brother was some years older than Cecilia, but he had
always been the favourite companion of her youth; what her father's
precepts inculcated, his example enforced, and even Cecilia's virtues
consequently became such as were more estimable in a man than
desirable in a female.
All small objects and small errors she had been taught to disregard as
trifles; and her impatient disposition was perpetually leading her into
more material faults; yet her candour in confessing these, she had been
suffered to believe, was sufficient reparation and atonement.
Leonora, on the contrary, who had been educated by her mother in a
manner more suited to her sex, had a character and virtues more
peculiar to a female; her judgment had been early cultivated, and her
good sense employed in the regulation of her conduct; she had been

habituated to that restraint, which, as a woman, she was to expect in life,
and early accustomed to yield; compliance in her seemed natural and
graceful.
Yet, notwithstanding the gentleness of her temper, she was in reality
more independent than Cecilia; she had more reliance upon her own
judgment, and more satisfaction in her own approbation. Though far
from insensible to praise, she was not liable to be misled by the
indiscriminate love of admiration; the uniform kindness of her manner,
the consistency and equality of her character, had fixed the esteem and
passive love of her companions.
By passive love, we mean that species of affection which makes us
unwilling to offend, rather than anxious to oblige; which is more a
habit than an emotion of the mind. For Cecilia, her companions felt
active love, for she was active in showing her love to them.
Active love arises spontaneously in the mind, after feeling particular
instances of kindness, without reflection on the past conduct or general
character; it exceeds the merits of its object, and is connected with a
feeling of generosity, rather than with a sense of justice.
Without determining which species of love is the more flattering to
others, we can easily decide which is the most agreeable feeling to our
own minds; we give our hearts more credit for being generous than for
being just; and we feel more self-complacency when we give our love
voluntarily, than when we yield it as a tribute which we cannot
withhold. Though Cecilia's companions might not know all this in
theory, they proved it in practice; for they loved her in a much higher
proportion to her merits than they loved Leonora.
Each of the young judges were to signify their choice by putting a red
or a white shell into a vase prepared for the purpose. Cecilia's colour
was red, Leonora's white. In the morning nothing was to be seen but
these shells, nothing talked of but the long-expected event of the
evening. Cecilia, following Leonora's example, had made it a point of
honour not to inquire of any individual her vote previous to their final
determination.

They were both sitting together in Louisa's room; Louisa was
recovering from the measles. Every one, during her illness, had been
desirous of attending her; but Leonora and Cecilia were the only two
that were permitted to see her, as they alone had had the distemper.
They were both assiduous in their care of Louisa; but Leonora's want of
exertion to overcome any disagreeable feelings of sensibility often
deprived her of presence of mind, and prevented her being so
constantly useful as Cecilia. Cecilia, on the contrary, often made too
much noise and bustle with her officious assistance, and was too
anxious to invent amusements and procure comforts for Louisa,
without perceiving that illness takes away the power of enjoying them.
As she was sitting in the window in the morning, exerting herself to