, at different
periods, to express greater zeal for the kirk than perhaps he really felt. His
family, equally of course, were trained under the same institution. Ravenswood,
as we know, was a High-Churchman, or Episcopalian, and frequently objected to
Lucy the fanaticism of some of her own communion, while she intimated, rather
than expressed, horror at the latitudinarian principles which she had been
taught to think connected with the prelatical form of church government.
    Thus, although their mutual affection seemed to increase rather than to be
diminished, as their characters opened more fully on each other, the feelings of
each were mingled with some less agreeable ingredients. Lucy felt a secret awe,
amid all her affection for Ravenswood. His soul was of a higher, prouder
character, than those with whom she had hitherto mixed in intercourse; his ideas
were more fierce and free; and he contemned many of the opinions which had been
inculcated upon her, as chiefly demanding her veneration. On the other hand,
Ravenswood saw in Lucy a soft and flexible character, which, in his eyes at
least, seemed too susceptible of being moulded to any form by those with whom
she lived. He felt that his own temper required a partner of a more independent
spirit, who could set sail with him on his course of life, resolved as himself
to dare indifferently the storm and the favouring breeze. But Lucy was so
beautiful, so devoutly attached to him, of a temper so exquisitely soft and
kind, that, while he could have wished it were possible to inspire her with a
greater degree of firmness and resolution, and while he sometimes became
impatient of the extreme fear which she expressed of their attachment being
prematurely discovered, he felt that the softness of a mind, amounting almost to
feebleness, rendered her even dearer to him, as a being who had voluntarily
clung to him for protection, and made him the arbiter of her fate for weal or
woe. His feelings towards her at such moments, were those which have been since
so beautifully expressed by our immortal Joanna Baillie: -
 
-- Thou sweetest thing,
That e'er did fix its lightly-fibred sprays
To the rude rock, ah! wouldst thou cling to me?
Rough and storm-worn I am - yet love me as
Thou truly dost, I will love thee again
With true and honest heart, though all unmeet
To be the mate of such sweet gentleness.
 
Thus the very points in which they differed, seemed, in some measure, to ensure
the continuance of their mutual affection. If, indeed, they had
