Emily Sarah Holt

“ A modish woman is a piece of live marble: she eats, she drinks, elegantly and in small quantities—she sleeps, taking care not to lie ungracefully—she walks, glidingly and smoothly—she converses, but must be careful not to mean too much—she distributes her smiles at pleasure, but never shows real interest in any person. My dear, a heart is absolute ruin to a modish woman! She may do anything she likes but feel. Now look at me. Have you seen any exhibition of feeling in me since you have known me?"
Celia felt herself quite safe in acquitting Lady Ingram on that count. ”

“ I have as much fear for all of you, except Celia, and, perhaps, Harry. Have we feared God, child, as a family? Hath there not been mere form and habit even in our devotions? Have we not shown much unevenness, and walked unequally? Have we cared to serve or please Him at all? Ah, my children! these are grave questions, and I take bitter shame to myself to have lived as many years as I have, and never thought of them. God forgive you—and me!"
"Aye, to be sure, my dear!" said old Cicely upstairs, afterwards. ”

“ To come to our own day, I dare be bold to guess that King Charles went according to his conscience,—Charles the First, I mean; I doubt his son had none. And Claverhouse, and this King Lewis, and the Pretender—ay, the Pope himself, poor old sinner!—I'll be bound they go according to their consciences. Nay, nay, Mr. Philip! When Adam fell in Eden, surely his conscience fell with him. And just as there can be nothing more sweet and gracious than an enlightened conscience and a sanctified will, so there is little worse than a blind conscience and a carnal will. ”

“ And she found it easier to talk to Charley, Lucy, and Cicely than to others. She would not have dared to quote a text to Henrietta.
"Well, but you know we can't be like Him," said Charley, reverently.
"We must, before we can go to heaven."
"Well, then, I might as well give up at once!" answered Charley, beginning to whistle.
"Oh no, Charley dear!" said Celia, so earnestly, that Charley stopped whistling, and looked up in her face. "He will help us to do right if we try. I do want you to grow up a good man, loving God and doing good to men. Won't you ask Him, Charley?" ”

“ Because God loved us, He gave His Son to die for us, that we who believe in Him might have eternal life. It is He who saves us, not we who make our own salvation; and it is because we love God that we wish to serve Him."
"Well, my dear," answered Lady Ingram, slowly, as if considering Celia's speech, "I can see very little difference between us, except that you would have all men hermits and friars instead of some. We both believe in Jesus Christ, of course; and no doubt there is a certain sense in which the religious feel love to God, and this love inclines them to the cloister. ”

“ Harry's greeting was quite as warm as Celia's, but graver.
"Who has won?" was her first question. She wondered afterwards that it should have been so.
"The allies," answered Harry, quietly. "I am Sir Edward's prisoner."
"A prisoner whom I yield to my sister, to be disposed of at her pleasure," said Edward, coming forward; and Celia, turning from Harry, greeted and thanked the real brother cordially, though a little shyly.
"Have you seen Philip?" she asked of both. Her apprehensions were beginning to subside.
We rarely know the supreme moments of our lives till they are past. ”

“ The soul, I assure you, is a mere quality of the body; it has no substance, yet is entirely material, and perishes with the body of which it is a quality."
"Sir, how can God's revelation be a fable?" was Celia's very grave reply. "And, without that revelation, what can we know of the character of God?"
"My dear Madam," replied Mr. Colville, with his pitying, patronizing smile, "these are quite obsolete, disproved notions. There can be no such thing as revelation; 'tis impossible. And there are no means of any kind by which man can understand the character of God. ”

“ If I was a well-favored young damsel with five hundred pounds in my pocket, and a silk gown, and a coach for to ride in, well, I dare say I should be as stuck-up as a peacock. But whatever has an old sinner like me to be proud of? Why, I'm always doing somewhat wrong all day long."
"I am afraid I am a greater sinner than you, Mrs. Cicely," said Patient Irvine's quiet voice in answer. "You have nothing to be proud of, and you are not proud. I have nothing to be proud of, and I am."
"Well, surely, a white devil is the worst devil," responded Cicely. ”

“ The old folks will want no dancing, I should think; they would rather have a quiet game."
"How tiresome!" said Isabella.
"Well, I don't think so," replied Madam Passmore. "When you come to my time of life, you won't want to be sent spinning about the room like so many teetotums. Yet I was reckoned a good dancer once, to be sure."
"And you liked it, Mother?" asked Celia.
"Yes, I suppose I did. I was young and foolish," said Madam Passmore, with a little sigh. "But really, when you come to think it over, 'tis only fit for children, I think. ”

“ Why, 'tis nigh a hundred mile from here to Paris, ben't it?"
"I don't know how far it is," said Celia, honestly; "but I am sure 'tis a very long way."
"Well, anyhow, you'll not forget us, dear heart?"
"I shall never do that, Cicely. But don't talk as if I were going away altogether. 'Tis only a visit. I shall soon come back—in a year, at the longest."
"Maybe, my dear," answered Cicely, quietly; "and maybe not, Mrs. Celia. A year is a long time, and we none of us know what the Lord may have for us afore then. Not one of us a-going along with you! ”

“ But you must never look astonished, no matter what happens to you. And, Celia, last night, when the Consul spoke to you, you absolutely looked perplexed."
"I felt so, Madam," said Celia.
"Is not that just what I am telling you?" replied Lady Ingram, with that graceful wave of her hands which Celia had seen before. "My dear, you must not feel. Feeling is the one thing which the mode cannot permit."
"Pardon me, Madam," answered Celia, looking perplexed now; "but it seems to me that you are trying to make me into a statue."
"Exactly so, my dear Celia—that is just it. ”

“ And as to the judgment, my dear, I have no more to do with that than the other,—a sight less, it seems to me. For we have all got to die; but if I understand the Book right, them that trust in Him haven't no judgment for to stand. If He has taken all my sins away, what am I to be judged for? Don't you see, Mrs. Celia? Eh, no! 'tis not we need think over the judgment, but the poor souls that have to stand it—who will not take Christ, and have nought of their own."
Celia sat silently gazing out of the window on the fair sward and trees of Ashcliffe Park. ”

“ I know what your grand ladies are, and what their fine breeding is! And I hope you are a true English girl, with a heart in you, and not one of these finnicking, fussy, fickle, faithless French-women!"
Philip let the sofa-cushion go when he had relieved his feelings by this burst of alliteration.
"I hope I have a heart, dear Philip," replied Celia. "But can you find no friends anywhere?"
"Just one," said Philip, "that is, beside Ned. You see, when Ned is here, he is master; but when he is away, I am not master: her Ladyship is mistress and master too." ”

“ But Patient seemed scarcely willing to impart it.
"You command me to answer you, Madam?" she said.
"I want to know, Patient," replied Celia, simply.
"'What concord hath Christ with Belial?'" answered Patient. "Madam, when I was but a young maid, I looked on the world as divided into many sects—Covenanters, Independents, Prelatists, Anabaptists, and the like, and I fancied that all who were not Covenanters (as I was) must needs be more or less wrong. Methinks I am wiser now. I see the world as divided into two camps only, and the army wherein I serve hath but one rallying-cry. ”

“ Why, my dear, I wanted Him, and I asked for Him, and I got Him. 'Tis just so simple as that. I never knew aught about it till I read the Book. I'm only a very simple, ignorant, old woman, my dear. Maybe the reason why I don't know no more is just that I am such a dunce. He can't learn me no more, because I haven't no wits to be learned. You've got plenty of wit, Mrs. Celia—you try! Why, just think the lots of things you know more than me! You can write, and make figures, and play pretty music, and such like, and I know nought but sewing, and dressing meat and drink, and reading the Book. ”

“ What is your special grief?"
"It looks like conformity to the world," answered Celia, in a low tone, for she did not expect Philip to understand her.
"Where is the world?" laughed that irreverent young gentleman. "That superb satin gown of yours, or the chocolate, or the talk? Eh, Patient? What do you say, my veteran prioress?"
"In your heart, Mr. Philip," answered Patient, setting down the chocolate-pot which she had just brought in. "The world outside, and an evil worldly human heart within, will work no little mischief. ”

“ What doctrines do they hold?"
"Now, what a remarkable attraction anything wrong and perilous has for a woman!" observed Mr. Philip Ingram, with the air of a philosopher. "Well, my dear, I have only heard one; but I believe they have a sort of confession or creed, indicating the points whereon they differ from the Church. That one is, that there is no such thing as grace of congruity, and that men are saved by the favor of God only, and by no merit of their own."
"But, Philip, that is the Gospel!" exclaimed Celia, turning round to look at him. "That is what we Protestants believe." ”

“ Colville, I lay the case before the Lord at once. I could not rest else."
"My dear old darling!" said Philip, smiling, and very affectionately, "I wish you did not look at me through such very black spectacles. There are better men than I am—many a one; but I hope there are a few worse."
"That won't satisfy me, Sir," answered Patient. "I would have Sir Edward and you the two best men in the world."
"And we are not!—at least I am not; I am not sure that Ned is not. What a pity!"
"Ay, Mr. Philip, a bitterer pity than you'll ken till you come to stand before God. ”

“ The Squire looked horror-struck.
"Nobody has made a Papist of me, if that be any consolation to you. I return as true a Protestant as I went."
"Is this woman a Tory?" gasped the Squire.
"Patient? No, Father," replied Celia, smiling, "she is a little on the other side of you. She calls Oliver Cromwell 'His Highness the Lord Protector,' and won't allow that King Charles was a martyr."
"Celia, child, thou hast been in ill company!" solemnly pronounced the Squire. ”

“ Poor souls! white-headed men there were, and tender women, and little, innocent, frightened children. It was a sight to move any human heart. I heard many a tale of worse things they did. Breaking into the houses, destroying and burning the household furniture, binding and beating the men, yea, even the women; drumming with hellish noise in the chambers of the sick, until they swooned away or were like to die; burning the houses of some and the workshops of others: all this we heard, and more."
"Patient, how dreadful!" said Celia. "Why, 'tis near what they did in the days of Queen Mary." ”