On returning to
the mansion he found Marston seated at the table in the
drawing-room, in a meditative mood. Good night, my friend!" he
accosted him.
"Ah, good night!" was the sudden response.
"You seem cast down?"
"No!-all's not as it seems with a man in trouble. How misfortune
quickens our sense of right! O! how it unfolds political and moral
wrongs! how it purges the understanding, and turns the good of our
natures to thoughts of justice. But when the power to correct is
beyond our reach we feel the wrong most painfully," Marston coldly
replied.
"It never is too late to do good; my word for it, friend Marston,
good is always worth its services. I am young and may serve you yet;
rise above trouble, never let trifles trouble a man like you. The
world seems wagging pleasantly for you; everybody on the plantation
is happy; Lorenzo has gone into the world to distinguish himself;
grief should never lay its scalpel in your feelings. Remember the
motto-peace, pleasantry, and plenty; they are things which should
always dispel the foreshadowing of unhappiness," says Maxwell,
jocularly, taking a chair at Marston's request, and seating himself
by the table.
Marston declares such consolation to be refreshing, but too easily
conceived to effect his purpose. The ripest fruits of vice often
produce the best moral reflections: he feels convinced of this
truth; but here the consequences are entailed upon others. The
degradation is sunk too deep for recovery by him,--his reflections
are only a burden to him.
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