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Immediately on the return of her parents from their
walk, Miriam, with that calm self-possession ever the
result of a consciousness of well meaning, detailed to
them all the particulars of the interview with Langley.
The mother listened with somewhat painful anxiety,
the father with evident disapprobation. When the
daughter had concluded, he addressed her with stern
solemnity, as follows—

“Miriam—you know I always act on principle—I
feared, nay, I foresaw this, and for that reason forbade
all intercourse with that profane young man, who
would doubtless lead thee to the path of destruction.
He is one of the followers of Belial, and were he to
become thy guide in this world would shipwreck thy
hopes of that which is to come. Tell me—I know

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thou wilt speak the truth, even on a subject where
maidens think it seemly to deceive even their parents—
tell me, hast this young Philistine touched thy heart?
Come, do not blush and hang thy head. Remember,
I am thy father, and thy mother is a woman.”

Miriam did indeed blush and hang her head, and
hesitated before she answered—

“Father, I know not what thou meanest by touching
the heart; but if to think often, and sometimes
dream of him—if to wish for his presence and regret
his absence—if to feel myself awakened to a new
existence, and to live and move in a world I never
dreamed of before, is to be touched at the heart, then,
I fear, I am indeed touch deeply.”

“Enough—enough, my daughter,” said Susan;
“thou remindest me of the days of my youth. I
recognize thy symptoms—say no more.”

“Miriam,” spoke Harold, after a silence of deep,
intense thought, “listen to what I am about to say.
The young man hath disclosed his love to thee, and
thou hast sufficiently disclosed thine to thy parents.
Thy innocent heart is indeed deeply touched, as I well
can see. Providence, for some inscrutible purpose,
perhaps to try thee in the fire, hath baffled all my
precautions. As a father I have a right to forbid thee
to think more of that reprobate young man.”

“Reprobate!” exclaimed Miriam, timidly. “For
aught I have ever seen of him, he is good and amiable,
honest and true.”

“It may be so in the estimation of those who judge

[figure description] Page 084.[end figure description]

a man by his acts rather than his faith, and substitute
the filthy rags of good works for the sublime mysteries
of the incomprehensible Creator. But whatever he
may be, he is not of thy faith, nor are his habits, manners,
and mode of thinking like ours. He belongs to
a church which hath persecuted thy father and thy
mother; to a party which hath forced them into exile
from their country, whose principles are in eternal
warfare with mine and thine, and to whose members
our habits and principles are subjects of ridicule, if
not abhorrence. To live in harmony with such a man
under one roof, and in all the intimate relations of
life, either thou must assimilate with him, or he with
thee. In the natural, not to say inevitable course of
things, the former would be the case; the weaker
vessel would yield, and thou wouldst become not only
a backslider from thy faith, but its deadly foe. All
that I have done and suffered in the hope of at last
enjoying the freedom of my immortal soul, and transmitting
the like to my children to the latest posterity,
will thus be rendered vain. Thou wilt become an
apostate, and thy children will follow thy example.”

He paused, deeply affected by the picture he had
drawn, and Miriam approached, took his hand, and
said—

“Believe it not, my father. The persecutions of
the living and the dead of my family; the blood thou
hast shed of others, and thine own, and the sacrifices
thou hast made, have caused thy faith to be too precious
to me ever to offer it up on any worldly altar.

[figure description] Page 085.[end figure description]

Speak thy commands. I will not say I am convinced
by thy arguments, but I will obey thy will.”

Harold kissed her pale cheek affectionately, and
proceeded—

“I command nothing—I will nothing; for I now
see that to do so is only to lift a feather against the
wind. While I thought it might avail, I strove to
prevent what has happened, as I too plainly see, by
forbidding all intercourse between you. But it is
done, and I will interfere no more. If Master Langley
Tyringham offers thee marriage, with the approbation
of his father, I leave thee to thy own free will to
decide. Only remember this, Miriam; if by indulging
the wishes of thine heart, thou shouldst break that
of thy father; and, if in vainly reaching after happiness
in this world thou should forfeit that in the world
to come, the penalty will be the just meed of the
offence, for thou alone wilt be to blame. Thou wilt
have offered up thy soul a victim to thy heart.”

Overcome by this appeal, Miriam cast herself on his
bosom, and sobbed out—

“Father, never while thou livest will I leave thee;
never while I live will I disobey thy commands, for I
know thou wilt never bid me do wrong. Be satisfied—
all is over.” He pressed her to his heart, and this
prompt obedience made him almost regret this harsh
exertion of his authority. Susan, who had remained
a silent witness of the scene, now drew her daughter
away, and by her womanly sympathy calmed her into
quiet resignation.

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In the meantime the old Cavalier had received a
full and true account of the state of his heart, and his
position towards Miriam, from Langley, whose frank
and manly spirit scorned all concealment. He was
answered by a tremendous explosion of wrath, levelled
at Crop-ears, Roundheads, Rebels and Republicans,
not forgetting Oliver Cromwell and the Rump Parliament.
He denounced them all in a lump, for divers
grievous offences, such as making long prayers, singing
psalms through their noses, and cutting their hair
in an unseemly fashion; swore they were no better
than Jews, because they ate cold dinners on Sunday,
and concluded, as was not unfrequently the case
when the froth had subsided into sediment, with something
like a sensible observation, to wit: that enthusiasm
might be respectable enough in its growing
state, because it was sincere; but that nothing was
more contemptible than enthusiasm in its decline,
since it was always replaced by hypocrisy.

Master Langley, as was his invariable custom when
the old gentleman indulged himself in an explosion,
listened in respectful silence. But when the storm
had a little subsided, he attempted to expostulate.

“But consider, my dear sir—”

“'Slife, sir, I won't consider. I never considered
but once in my life, and then I made a great blunder.
But I have no objection to hear what you have to say,
though I tell you beforehand it will be of no use.
Come, give us an eulogium on Crop-ears, and particularly
young Crop-ear damsels.”

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Just at that moment Langley, instead of duteously
listening to his father, had conjured up right before
him the picture of a little Crop-ear damsel, whose
plain, yet touching face, graceful symmetry of form,
gently waving hair, and deep, lustrous eyes, presented
a most agreeable subject for contemplation. The
whole vision defied Puritanism, most especially the
hair, which obstinately curled, in despite of the
“Platform.” He could not help greeting it with a
smile, which, in classic phrase, “raised the old Cavalier's
dander pretty considerably.”

“What,” cried he, “you're laughing, are you? I can
tell you, though you stand there grinning, like a stone
fence, its no laughing matter, sir. If you don't instantly
relinquish all claim, right, title, interest, reversion,
remainder, and all that sort of thing, to this little Puritan
Roundhead, who rebelled against the King, put
down the bishops, brought one monarch to the block,
and exiled another,—I say, sir, if you don't pronounce,
renounce, and denounce all intercourse in thought,
word, or deed, with this witch of Endor, you're no son
of mine—damme—that's all—now laugh at that,
sir.”

“My dear father,” replied Langley, who was not
unaccustomed to these tornados, “I assure you I was
not smiling at what you said. There was nothing in
it to provoke a smile.”

“No, I should think not. You'll find it a serious
business, I can tell you. But I insist on knowing
what you were laughing at, sir.”

[figure description] Page 088.[end figure description]

“I only smiled, sir; I was not laughing.”

“Well, sir, that's only a different degree of impertinence.
What were you smiling at?”

“Why, sir, I had a delightful vision—”

“Bless me! a vision—the fellow is half Crop-ear
already. I suppose he will begin to prophecy soon.
Well, what was it, a fiend or an angel—eh?”

“An angel, sir. A little Crop-eared angel, about
the middle size, with a face as innocent as a dove;
teeth white as snow; lips red as a cherry; a neck like
a swan; a shape like Venus; hair, every thread of
which might form a chain for captive hearts, and eyes
in which you see reflected a bright heaven of love and
purity.”

“By Jupiter!” exclaimed the old Cavalier, rubbing
his hands, “I should like to see such a vision. It
must have been an angel.”

“What's that you are saying about angels, my
dear?” said Mistress Tyringham, at that moment coming
into the room, and putting to flight the angelic
vision. Now, whether this inopportune diversion in
favor of Langley grated harshly on his feelings, for
people don't like to be interrupted in giving lectures—
or that the abrupt dispersion of the vision produced
that effect, we cannot say, but certain it is the Cavalier
took it somewhat in dudgeon. Mistress Tyringham,
though a woman of ten thousand, was not altogether
lovely. In fact she was rather a contrast to
Langley's angel.

“What was I saying, my dear”—for he was

[figure description] Page 089.[end figure description]

particular in always treating his wife with gentlemanly
courtesy—except when he forgot it—“what was I
saying about angels! Why, I was telling this young
gentleman who has visions and dreams, that I would
see him hanged before he should marry the Roundhead's
daughter.”

“La! my dear, I'm sure that was not much like
an angel. Why did you so earnestly wish to see one
just at such a time? I declare I begin to be quite
curious.”

“Why my dear—because—hang me if I know
exactly. Langley, can't you tell me?” Langley
shook his head. “Well, then, I believe it was because
I see them so seldom.”

“Well my dear, that's a sufficient reason to satisfy
a reasonable woman,” and the good lady departed perfectly
contented, for she liked to tease her husband a
little sometimes, after the manner of all discreet
wives.

“Plague take the woman—no—Heaven bless the
dear, good old soul”—she was only ten years younger
than her husband. “Heaven bless her. But she has
thrown me completely out of the traces. Where was
I, Langley?”

“Why sir, according to the best of my recollection,
I think you were just about giving your full consent
and approbation to my marriage with the little Crop-eared
angel I saw in my dream, and who took your
fancy so much.”

“Why, you impudent young scapegrace! But

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enough of this—I am a man of few words. You
know my mind, and I once more repeat, that if you
marry that young Roundhead, you are no son of
mine.”

“My dear,” asked Mistress Tyringham, putting her
head inside the door—“My dear, would you like to
have the chickens roasted or fried for dinner? But
what were you saying about Langley being no son of
yours! You ought to be ashamed, my dear, of throwing
out such insinuations against an honest woman.”

“Pshaw!” said the Cavalier testily.

“Well, pshaw or no pshaw—I say you ought to be
ashamed of yourself. And, Langley, as you are, it
seems, relieved from all obligations of duty to your
respected father, I am clearly of opinion you may go
and marry Miriam Habingdon, as soon as you can gain
her consent. But, my dear, you have not decided
about the chickens.”

“'Slife, Jenny, what's got into you, to-day? What
do I care—fry them, or broil them, or roast them, or
boil them, in the devil's name, for all me.”

“Well, my dear, I suppose that means plenty of
cayenne pepper. Gregory! Gregory Moth! Please
go and tell Black Rose to tell Phebe to tell Phillis to
put plenty of cayenne inside and out of the chickens.
Her master wants them a little devilled, as he feels rather
chilly this cool morning.” The thermometer was
at ninety. The excellent matron departed, laughing
in her sleeve, contented with having made her husband
a little ashamed of himself, without resorting to

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the ultima ratio regum of matrimony—arguing the
question, which in nine cases out of ten, produces
contention. The great secret for preserving domestic
harmony is to let all parties do as they like, and if
they are rational, good-tempered people, they will
naturally like to please each other. If they are not
so, there is no use in argument.

But to return to our story. This interruption of
good Mistress Tyringham again threw the Cavalier
completely off the track; but he soon found it again,
and repeated the sentence of disinheritance with
renewed vigor.

“My dear father,” said Langley, “It is quite unnecessary,
I have just been dismissed by the young lady,
by command of her father, with strict injunctions not
to visit her again.”

“What,” cried the astonished Cavalier, “rejected—
refused—cut adrift by a Roundhead—a Crop-ear—
a rebel to his king, and a renegade from his mother
church! Why 'slife, what is the meaning of all this?
The son and heir of sixteen generations of Cavaliers,
rejected by the daughter of a Crop-ear, and turned out
of the house by a Roundhead! Here, Gregory, Gregory—
saddle old Rowley instantly. Rejected—a son of
mine, only four degrees removed from a title—by
Jupiter Amnon, the whole generation of Crop-ears shall
answer for the insult. Langley, this makes matters
ten times worse, and if you have the spirit of a man,
you will implicity obey my command. You may go—
I see Gregory coming with old Rowley.”

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Langley departed, just as Gregory entered, and as
usual, inquired what his master wanted. On being
informed of the gross insult offered to the house of
Tyringham, and that he was to be the bearer of a
defiance, as there was no gentleman in the neighborhood
to perform that office. He demurred exceedingly,
for he had an insuperable antipathy to fighting,
or having anything to do with it. He insisted that the
occasion by no means called for such decisive action;
that the honor of the family rather required no notice
should be taken of this slight; and that being so
greatly opposed to the match, his master ought to be
rather highly pleased than mortified, at what would
place an insuperable obstacle in its way.

“'Slife, Gregory, I say again for the hundredth time
at least, that you are the most astonishingly discreet
knave, for so great a fool, I ever met with. You talk
sometimes like Friar Bacon's head, and sometimes as
if you had no head at all.”

“Ah sir! when I take into serious consideration
that it is not the fashion for wise men to speak wisely
at all times, methinks it were a great pity that fools
should not enjoy the like privilege. Wise fools, sir, are
just as common as foolish wise men. The world is
divided between them.”

“Gregory Moth, I pronounce you one of the seven
champions—I mean one of the seven wise men of
Greece, who like his sacred majesty, King Charles,
according to that villain Rochester, never said a foolish
thing nor ever did a wise one. Truly, Moth, if

[figure description] Page 093.[end figure description]

your valor were only proportioned to your wisdom, you
would be as great a wonder—as—as—zounds! I was
never good at a comparison.”

“You mean, doubtless, sir, to say, that my valor is
as disproportioned to my discretion, as your discretion
is to your valor. Surely, never master and man were
so well fitted. You will defend me by the strength of
your arm, and I will enlighten you by the thickness
of my head. Thus shall we two be invincible.”

“Well, well—we won't dispute that matter; especially
as I can always get the better of you by the
argumentum ad baculinum, as we say at Oxford. I
have, or to do justice, you have thought better on this
subject. It would be making the Roundhead of too
much consequence to call him out on such an occasion.
The honor of my family is safe from such a mushroom
of yesterday.” The doughty Cavalier forgot that the
family of Habingdon could beat him hollow counting
centuries.

“To be sure, sir,” replied Gregory; “especially as
you would have the trouble of horsewhipping him
afterwards; for he would not accept your defiance.
He won't fight; he has scruples of cowardice, commonly
called conscientious scruples.”

“No, no, Gregory; to do him justice, he is no coward.
He is as brave as old Noll, and quite as ready
to meet danger as you are to run away from it.”

“I run away from danger, sir! Didn't I utterly
discomfit and put to flight the barbarians when your
house was sorely beleagured, and that with my single

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arm? If you had not shut me up in the cellar—I say
nothing, but the copper-colored caitiffs would not have
escaped scot-free as they did, to the immortal disgrace
of all Christendom.”

This sally put the Cavalier in high good humor, and
he proceeded to consult Gregory on the subject of
Langley's attachment, which he communicated as a
great secret.

“I knew it long ago, sir,” said Gregory.

“You! ah—I know—you are always wiser than
other people, especially in knowing things after they
have come to pass. How did you know it, pray?”

“Why, sir, he once threatened to crop my ears for
calling the young lady a Crop-ear; and I clearly discerned
from this, and other infallible symptoms, that
my young master had been converted by the gospel
of eyes.”

“Well, what do you advise me to do?”

“Nothing, sir; when King Brute and his valiant
Trojans—”

“D—n King Brute and his valiant Trojans;
what have they to do with this matter?”

“O, a great deal, sir. Had they not come to England,
the great university of Oxford, whose learning is
heaped up like sand, and is equally productive, would
probably have never existed, at least on that identical
spot,; and the church and the bishops might, for
aught I know, have given place to such cattle as presbyters
and conventions instead of councils and convocations.
Think of that, sir.”

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“Certainly, all this is highly interesting; but just
now I want your counsel on other matters. What do
you advise me to do with Langley?”

“Nothing, sir; let things alone. Love is like a
brush heap on fire; the more you stir it, the more
sparks and flames. Let it alone, and it will burn out of
itself. See you not, sir, that the fire always advances
against the wind?”

“Well, I believe I'll take your advice. But, harkee,
Gregory, if it turns out badly, I'll make an example
of you.”

“You can't have a better, sir,” answered Gregory,
conceitedly; and the old Cavalier departed to dress for
dinner, a custom he always observed, being resolved,
he said, to be a gentleman one half the day, at all
events.

p316-325

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