Sensibility [pp. 79-87]

SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER.
foundation of their virtue. but demolishes the whole
fabric at once, by telling them, that if capable of performing a few brilliant actions, such a halo will shine
around them, as will entirely conceal from the eyes of
every beholder their want of sincerity, truth, fidelity,
or moral honor. Wo to my country, when the public
sentiment shall be so far corrupted, as to think that
heroism, and what is known by the name of glory, can
compensate for the want of true, consistent, undying
virtue!"
MNontague chanced to be looking at Margarette when
Mr. Claremont began to speak, and the look she gave
Mr. Gordon fixed his attention upon her, though he
heard not the remark that called it forth. He watched
her countenance with deep interest, as it gradually
lighted up to a glow of admiring approbation, strangely
intermingled with a shade of sadness. "I will have her
opinion on this subject from her own lips," thought he;
and placing himself near her, he said "What is your opinion of Lord Nelson, Miss Claremont?"
" 0, exactly the same as my uncle's," said Margarette. "And how could it be otherwise? when I have
so often heard my dear father express sentiments exactly similar. He very carefully taught me, never to
let any external glory, any meretricious glare, blind me
to real defects, or to the want of intrinsic and solid excellence." Her eye, as she finished speaking, sparkled
through a tear, which was not unobserved by either
Montague or Gordon.
"There is, then, a fountain of feeling within," thought
Montague, as he still looked upon her-" A fountain of
deep, pure, noble feeling!"
"By Jupiter, there is a tear!" thought Gordon"and Montague has had the good fortune to call it forth.
Who would have thought, that to talk of Lord Nelson,
was the way to touch her heart? I would have given a
thousand dollars, rather than he should have had this
triumph!"
One morning Montague called at Mr. Claremont's,
but found that both the young ladies were out. Mr.
Claremont, however, was in the parlor, and he and
Montague had passed a very pleasant half hour, ere
Alice and Margarette came in. Margarette bade Montague'good morning'-but Alice just nodded at him,
and hastened to her uncle, and seating herself on his
knee, exclaimed "Dear uncle, I am so glad you are in! I want to ask
a great favor of you."
"What is that, my dear?" said Mr. Claremont.
"I am half afraid to tell," said Alice, "you will think
me so extravagant. But, dear uncle, Margarette and I
have seen the two most beautiful pearl necklaces at
Wendall's, you ever beheld!"
"And you want them?"
"0, I do, most sadly," said Alice.
"And do you, Margarette?"
"I think not, sir," said Margarette-while Alice at
the same moment cried " 0, Margarette can have whatever she wants, she
is so rich!-not a poor beggar like your own Alice,
dependent on the bounty of another for every thing"and bursting into tears, she hid her face on her uncle's
shoulder.
Sweet sensibility, 0, la!
"I heard a little lamb cry, bah!"
said Mr. Claremont. "Come, Alice, don't cry about it,
but tell me the price of the neckllaces."
"How can I," said the sobbing Alice, "when you
make such cruel sport of my feelings? Indeed, uncle, it
is cruel!"
"I never make sport of your feelings, my dear, when
there is any thing that ought to awaken them," said
Mr. Claremont. "But come, tell me the price of the
pearl necklaces."
"They are fifty dollars apiece."
"Whew!" said Mr. Claremont. "And so I must
spend a hundred dollars to adorn the necks of my
nieces?"
" 0, Margarette can buy her own, you know uncle,
and so you will have to give away but fifty."
"I hold Miss Claremont's purse-strings, you know,"
said Mr. Claremont, "and I shall serve you both alike."
Margarette's, as well as yours, must be the gift of her
uncle."
"I do not wish for one, my dear sir," said Marga rette, but Mr. Claremont heeded her not, and opening
his pocket book, gave them fifty dollars each. Alice
loaded her uncle with kisses and thanks, while it was
with evident reluctance that Margarette took hers in
her hand. But as some ladies at that instant entered
the room, without saying more, she put it in her purse.
As soon as the visiters had withdrawn Alice went to
her chamber, and Margarette siezed the opportunity of
being alone with Mr. Claremont, to restore to him the
fifty dollars.
"My dear sir," said she, "I cannot accept this money,
and should have declined it at the moment, only I could
not explain before strangers. You will relieve me
greatly by taking it again."
"By no means, my dear-I should be much pleased
that you and Alice should have necklaces alike."
"But I do not want a necklace, sir, and should feel
very badly to spend fifty dollars on a useless ornament."
"Then purchase something else with it, Margarette."
"I am in want of nothing, sir, and had much rather
restore it to you."
"Can you find no use for it, my dear?" asked Mr.
Claremont.
" O yes, sir-I could find enough to do with this, and
ten times more. But perhaps you would think it injudiciously expended."
"What should you do with it, Margarette?" asked
Mr. Claremont.
"Give every cent of it away, sir," Margarette replied.
"Very well," said Mr. Claremont. "It is yours, my
dear, to throw at the birds, if you please. I can depend
on your judgment and principles, that it will not go to
indulge idleness or vice."
"0, I thank you most sincerely, my dear uncle,"
said Margarette with warmth-" in behalf of those who
are suffering from want. It will give me great delight
to be your almoner."
There was a very narrow lane ran past the foot of
Mr. Claremont's garden, in which stood a little hut,
occupied by a poor, but pious old man, who earned a
scanty livelihood by gardening. He was known all
over the town by the title of Commodore, merely because
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