and was pleased with the guests; she saw to the strangers' chambers, and presided over the presses and the linen. She was a kind, brisk, jolly-looking widow, and more than one unmarried gentleman of the colony asked her to change her name for his own. But she chose to keep that of Mountain, though, and perhaps because, it had brought her no good fortune. One marriage was enough for her, she said. Mr. Mountain had amiably spent her little fortune and his own. Her last trinkets went to pay his funeral; and as long as Madam Warrington would keep her at Castlewood, she preferred a home without a husband to any which as yet had been offered to her in Virginia. The two ladies quarreled plentifully; but they loved each other: they made up their differences: they fell out again, to be reconciled presently. When either of the boys was ill, each lady vied with the other in maternal tenderness and In his last days and illness, Mrs. Mountain's cheerfulness and kindness had been greatly appreciated by the Colonel, whose memory Madam Warrington regarded more than that of any living person. So that, year after year, when Captain Franks would ask Mrs. Mountain, in his pleasant way, whether she was going back with him that voyage? she would decline, and say that she proposed to stay a year more.

care.

And when suitors came to Madam Warrington, as come they would, she would receive their compliments and attentions kindly enough, and asked more than one of these lovers wheth

a better economist than most of them. More than one, no doubt, would have had no objection to share her life-interest in the estate, and supply the place of papa to her boys. But where was the man good enough for a person of her ladyship's exalted birth? There was a talk of making the Duke of Cumberland viceroy, or even king, over America. Madam War-er it was Mrs. Mountain he came after? She rington's gossips laughed, and said she was waiting for him. She remarked, with much gravity and dignity, that persons of as high birth as his Royal Highness had made offers of alliance to the Esmond family.

would use her best offices with Mountain. Fanny was the best creature, was of a good English family, and would make any gentleman happy. Did the Squire declare it was to her and not her dependent that he paid his addresses? she would make him her gravest courtesy, say that she really had been utterly mistaken as to his views, and let him know that the daughter of the Marquis of Esmond lived for her people and her sons, and did not propose to change her condition. Have we not read how Queen Elizabeth was a perfectly sensible woman of business, and was pleased to inspire not only terror and awe, but love in the bosoms of her subjects? So the little Virginian princess had her favorites, and accepted their flatteries, and grew tired of them, and was cruel or kind to them as suited her wayward imperial humor. There was no amount of compliment which she would not graciously receive and take as her due. Her little foible was so well known that the wags

She had, as lieutenant under her, an officer's widow, who has been before named, and who had been Madam Esmond's companion at school, as her late husband had been the regimental friend of the late Mr. Warrington. When the English girls at the Kensington Academy, where Rachel Esmond had her education, teased and tortured the little American stranger, and laughed at the princified airs which she gave herself from a very early age, Fanny Parker defended and befriended her. They both married ensigns in Kingsley's. They became tenderly attached to each other. It was "my Fanny" and "my Rachel" in the letters of the young ladies. Then, my Fanny's husband died in sad out-at-elbowed circumstances, leaving no provision for his widow and her infant; and, in one of his annual voy-used to practice upon it. Rattling Jack Fireages, Captain Franks brought over Mrs. Mountain, in the Young Rachel, to Virginia.

There was plenty of room in Castlewood House, and Mrs. Mountain served to enliven the place. She played cards with the mistress; she had some knowledge of music, and could help the eldest boy in that way; she laughed

brace of Henrico county had free quarters for months at Castlewood, and was a prime favorite with the lady there, because he addressed verses to her which he stole out of the pocket-books. Tom Humbold of Spotsylvania wagered fifty hogsheads against five that he would make her institute an order of knighthood, and won his wager.

The elder boy saw these freaks and oddities | windows with their crisp heads to hear him disof his good mother's disposition, and chafed and course. It was over the black sheep of the raged at them privately. From very early Castlewood flock that Mr. Ward somehow had days he revolted when flatteries and compli- the most influence. These woolly lamblings ments were paid to the little lady, and strove to were immensely affected by his exhortations, expose them with his juvenile satire; so that and when he gave out the hymn, there was his mother would say, gravely, "The Esmonds such a negro chorus about the house as might were always of a jealous disposition, and my be heard across the Potomac-such a chorus as poor boy takes after my father and mother in would never have been heard in the Colonel's this." George hated Jack Firebrace and Tom time-for that worthy gentleman had a suspicion Humbold, and all their like; whereas Harry of all cassocks, and said he would never have went out sporting with them, and fowling, and any controversy with a clergyman but upon fishing, and cock-fighting, and enjoyed all the backgammon. Where money was wanted for fun of the country. charitable purposes no man was more ready, One winter, after their first tutor had been and the good, easy Virginian clergyman, who dismissed, Madam Esmond took them to Will-loved backgammon heartily, too, said that the iamsburg, for such education as the schools worthy Colonel's charity must cover his other and college there afforded, and there it was the shortcomings. fortune of the family to listen to the preaching Ward was a handsome young man. His of the famous Mr. Whitfield, who had come into preaching pleased Madam Esmond from the Virginia, where the habits and preaching of the first, and, I dare say, satisfied her as much as established clergy were not very edifying. Un- Mr. Whitfield's. Of course it can not be the like many of the neighboring provinces, Vir- case at the present day when they are so finely ginia was a Church of England colony: the educated, but women, a hundred years ago, clergymen were paid by the State and had were credulous, eager to admire and believe, glebes allotted to them; and, there being no and apt to imagine all sorts of excellences in Church of England bishop as yet in America, the object of their admiration. For weeks, nay the colonists were obliged to import their divines months, Madam Esmond was never tired of from the mother-country. Such as came were hearing Mr. Ward's great glib voice and voluble not, naturally, of the very best or most eloquent commonplaces; and, according to her wont, she kind of pastors. Noblemen's hangers-on, in- insisted that her neighbors should come and solvent parsons who had quarreled with justice listen to him, and ordered them to be converted. or the bailiff, brought their stained cassocks into Her young favorite, Mr. Washington, she was the colony in the hopes of finding a living there. especially anxious to influence; and again and No wonder that Whitfield's great voice stirred again pressed him to come and stay at Castlethose whom harmless Mr. Broadbent, the Will- wood and benefit by the spiritual advantages iamsburg chaplain, never could awaken. At there to be obtained. But that young gentlefirst the boys were as much excited as their man found he had particular business which mother by Mr. Whitfield: they sang hymns, called him home, or away from home, and aland listened to him with fervor, and, could he ways ordered his horse of evenings when the have remained long enough among them, Harry time was coming for Mr. Ward's exercises. and George had both worn black coats probably And-what boys are just toward their pedainstead of epaulets. The simple boys commu- | nicated their experiences to one another, and were on the daily and nightly look-out for the sacred "call," in the hope or the possession of which such a vast multitude of Protestant England was thrilling at the time.

But Mr. Whitfield could not stay always with the little congregation of Williamsburg. His mission was to enlighten the whole benighted people of the Church, and from the East to the West to trumpet the truth and bid slumbering sinners awaken. However, he comforted the widow with precious letters, and promised to send her a tutor for her sons who should be capable of teaching them not only profane learning, but of strengthening and confirming them in science much more precious.

In due course, a chosen vessel arrived from England. Young Mr. Ward had a voice as loud as Mr. Whitfield's, and could talk almost as readily and for as long a time. Night and evening the hall sounded with his exhortations. The domestic negroes crept to the doors to listen to him. Other servants darkened the porch

gogue?-the twins grew speedily tired, and even rebellious, under their new teacher.

They found him a bad scholar, a dull fellow, and ill-bred to boot. George knew much more Latin and Greek than his master, and caught him in perpetual blunders and false quantities. Harry, who could take much greater liberties than were allowed to his elder brother, mimicked Ward's manner of eating and talking, so that Mrs. Mountain, and even Madam Esmond, were forced to laugh, and little Fanny Mountain would crow with delight. Madam Esmond would have found the fellow out for a vulgar quack but for her son's opposition, which she, on her part, opposed with her own indomitable will. "What matters whether he has more or less of profane learning?" she asked; "in that which is most precious, Mr. W. is able to be a teacher to all of us. What if his manners are a little rough? Heaven does not choose its elect from among the great and wealthy. I wish you knew one book, children, as well as Mr. Ward does. It is your wicked pride-the pride of all the Esmonds-which prevents you

from listening to him. Go down on your knees
in your chamber and pray to be corrected of that
dreadful fault." Ward's discourse that evening
was about Naaman the Syrian, and the pride
he had in his native rivers of Abanah and Phar- | Major Washington-you know I don't.
phar, which he vainly imagined to be superior
to the healing waters of Jordan-the moral be-
ing that he, Ward, was the keeper and guardian
of the undoubted waters of Jordan, and that the
unhappy, conceited boys must go to perdition
unless they came to him.

sons, and not anger your tutor. A mischief will
come-I know it will. Your mamma was talk-
ing about you to Mr. Washington the other day
when I came into the room. I don't like that

Don't

say-Oh, Mounty! Master Harry. You always stand up for your friends, you do. The Major is very handsome and tall, and he may be very good, but he is much too old a young man for me. Bless you, my dears, the quantity of wild oats your father sowed, and my own poor Mountain, when they were Ensigns in Kingsley's, would fill sacks full! Show me Mr. Washington's wild oats, I say-not a grain! Well, I happened to step in last Tuesday when he was here with your mamma, and I am sure they were talking about you, for he said, 'Discipline is discipline, and

George now began to give way to a wicked sarcastic method, which, perhaps, he had inherited from his grandfather, and with which, when a quiet skillful young person chooses to employ it, he can make a whole family uncomfortable. He took up Ward's pompous remarks and made jokes of them, so that that young di-must be preserved. There can be but one comvine chafed and almost choked over his great mand in a house, ma'am, and you must be the meals. He made Madam Esmond angry, and mistress of yours.'" doubly so when he sent off Harry into fits of laughter. Her authority was defied, her officer scorned and insulted, her youngest child perverted, by the obstinate elder brother. She made a desperate and unhappy attempt to main--and he begged me to obey Mr. Ward, and tain her power.

ry.

"The very words he used to me," cries Har"He told me that he did not like to meddle with other folks' affairs, but that our mother was very angry-dangerously angry, he said

specially to press George to do so."

"Let him manage his own house, not mine," says George, very haughtily. And the caution, far from benefiting him, only rendered the lad more supercilious and refractory.

out, and owned that he was in the wrong. Mr. Ward kept his temper-to compress, bottle up, cork down, and prevent your anger from present furious explosion, is called keeping your temper-and said he should speak upon this business to Madam Esmond. When the family met at dinner Mr. Ward requested her ladyship to stay, and, temperately enough, laid the subject of dispute before her.

He asked Master Harry to confirm what he had said, and poor Harry was obliged to admit all the Dominie's statements.

The boys were fourteen years of age, Harry being taller and much more advanced than his brother, who was delicate and, as yet, almost child-like in stature and appearance. The baculine method was a quite common mode of argu- On the next day the storm broke, and vengement in those days. Sergeants, schoolmasters, ance fell on the little rebel's head. Words passslave-overseers, used the cane freely. Our lit-ed between George and Mr. Ward during the tle boys had been horsed many a day by Mr. morning study. The boy was quite insubordiDempster, their Scotch tutor, in their grand-nate and unjust: even his faithful brother cried father's time; and Harry, especially, had got to be quite accustomed to the practice, and made very light of it. But in the interregnum after Colonel Esmond's death, the cane had been laid aside, and the young gentlemen of Castlewood had been allowed to have their own way. Her own and her lieutenant's authority being now spurned by the youthful rebels, the unfortunate mother thought of restoring it by means of coercion. She took counsel of Mr. Ward. That athletic young pedagogue could easily find chapter and verse to warrant the course which he wished to pursue-in fact, there was no doubt about the wholesomeness of the practice in those days. He had begun by flattering the boys, finding a good berth and snug quarters at Castlewood, and hoping to remain there. But they laughed at his flattery, they scorned his bad manners, they yawned soon at his sermons; the more their mother favored him the more they disliked him; and so the tutor and the pupils cordially hated each other. Mrs. Mountain, who was the boys' friend- especially George's friend, whom she thought unjustly treated by his mother-warned the lads to be prudent, and that some conspiracy was hatching against them. "Ward is more obsequious than ever to your mamma. It turns my stomach, it "Yes, Sir, punish! If means of love and does, to hear him flatter, and to see him gobble entreaty fail, as they have with your proud heart, -the odious wretch! You must be on your other means must be found to bring you to obeguard, my poor boys-you must learn your les- | dience. I punish you now, rebellious boy, to

George, standing under his grandfather's portrait by the chimney, said, haughtily, that what Mr. Ward had said was perfectly correct.

"To be a tutor to such a pupil is absurd," said Mr. Ward, making a long speech, interspersed with many of his usual Scripture phrases, at each of which, as they occurred, that wicked young George smiled and pished scornfully, and, at length, Ward ended by asking her honor's leave to retire.

"Not before you have punished this wicked and disobedient child," said Madam Esmond, who had been gathering anger during Ward's harangue, and especially at her son's behavior. "Punish!" says George.

guard you from greater punishment hereafter. be so familiar with its designs and schemes as The discipline of this family must be maintained. There can be but one command in a house, and I must be the mistress of mine. You will punish this refractory boy, Mr. Ward, as we have agreed that you should do, and if there is the least resistance on his part, my overseer and servants will lend you aid."

In some such words the widow no doubt must have spoken, but with many vehement Scriptural allusions which it does not become this chronicler to copy. To be forever applying to the Sacred Oracles, and accommodating their sentences to your purpose-to be forever taking Heaven into your confidence about your private affairs, and passionately calling for its interference in your family quarrels and difficulties-to

to be able to threaten your neighbor with its thunders, and to know precisely its intentions regarding him and others who differ from your infallible opinion-this was the schooling which our simple widow had received from her impetuous young spiritual guide, and I doubt whether it brought her much comfort.

In the midst of his mother's harangue-in spite of it, perhaps-George Esmond felt he had been wrong. "There can be but one command in the house, and you must be mistress-I know who said those words before you," George said, slowly, and looking very white, "and-and I know, mother, that I have acted wrongly to Mr. Ward."

"He owns it! He asks pardon!" cries Har

"That's right, George! That's enough: ments of the broken cup. isn't it?"

"No, it is not enough!" cried the little woman. "The disobedient boy must pay the penalty of his disobedience. When I was headstrong, as I sometimes was as a child before my spirit was changed and humbled, my mamma punished me, and I submitted. So must George. I de-ing, from a great wound on his head, and besire you will do your duty, Mr. Ward."