; but now Christianity went hand in hand with civilization, and the
providential government of the world, though a little confused and entangled in
foreign countries, in our favoured land was clearly seen to be carried forward
on Tory and Church of England principles, sustained by the succession of the
House of Brunswick, and by sound English divines. For Miss Lingon had had a
superior governess, who held that a woman should be able to write a good letter,
and to express herself with propriety on general subjects. And it is astonishing
how effective this education appeared in a handsome girl, who sat supremely well
on horseback, sang and played a little, painted small figures in water-colours,
had a naughty sparkle in her eyes when she made a daring quotation, and an air
of serious dignity when she recited something from her store of correct
opinions. But however such a stock of ideas may be made to tell in elegant
society, and during a few seasons in town, no amount of bloom and beauty can
make them a perennial source of interest in things not personal; and the notion
that what is true and, in general, good for mankind, is stupid and drug-like, is
not a safe theoretic basis in circumstances of temptation and difficulty. Mrs
Transome had been in her bloom before this century began, and in the long
painful years since then, what she had once regarded as her knowledge and
accomplishments had become as valueless as old-fashioned stucco ornaments, of
which the substance was never worth anything, while the form is no longer to the
taste of any living mortal. Crosses, mortifications, money-cares, conscious
blameworthiness, had changed the aspect of the world for her: there was anxiety
in the morning sunlight; there was unkind triumph or disapproving pity in the
glances of greeting neighbours; there was advancing age, and a contracting
prospect in the changing seasons as they came and went. And what could then
sweeten the days to a hungry much-exacting self like Mrs Transome's? Under
protracted ill every living creature will find something that makes a
comparative ease, and even when life seems woven of pain, will convert the
fainter pang into a desire. Mrs Transome, whose imperious will had availed
little to ward off the great evils of her life, found the opiate for her
discontent in the exertion of her will about smaller things. She was not cruel,
and could not enjoy thoroughly what she called the old woman's pleasure of
tormenting; but she liked every little sign of power her lot had left her. She
liked that a tenant should stand