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 *perior excellence of the object we worship arises so often to our view, that it seems but the natural consequence of our own presumption, that we should be neglected and forgotten.

Of Admiral Sir R. Mowbray, Calantha now took leave without being able to utter one word:—she wept as children weep in early days, the hearts' convulsive sob free and unrestrained. He was as much affected as herself, and seeking Lady Margaret, before he left the castle and followed his nephew who had gone straight to England, began an eager attack upon her, with all the blunt asperity of his nature. Indeed he bitterly reproached himself, and all those who had influenced him, in what he termed his harsh unfeeling conduct to his nephew in this affair.—"And as to you, madam," he cried, addressing Lady Margaret, "you make two young people wretched, to gratify the vanity of your son, and acquire a fortune, which I would