"'Quod nunc ratio est, impetus ante fuit.'" [That which is now reason, at first was but desire.] "Ah! Mr. Elmore," said the lady, glancing towards a brace of very fine pigeons, "I cannot tell you how vexed I am at a mistake of the gardener's: you remember my poor pet pigeons, so attached to each other-- would not mix with the rest--quite an inseparable friendship, Mr. Lester --well, they were killed by mistake, for a couple of vulgar pigeons. Ah! I could not touch a bit of them for the world." "My love," said Elmore, pausing, and with great solemnity, "hear how beautiful a consolation is afforded to you in Valerius Maximus:--'Ubi idem et maximus et honestissimus amor est, aliquando praestat morte jungi quam vitae distrahi;' which being interpreted, means, that wherever, as in the case of your pigeons, a thoroughly high and sincere affection exists, it is sometimes better to be joined in death than divided in life.--Give me half the fatter one, if you please, Julia." "Sir," said Elmore, when the ladies withdrew, "I cannot tell you how pleased I am to meet with a gentleman so deeply imbued with classic lore. I remember, several years ago, before my poor cousin died, it was my lot, when I visited him at Knaresborough, to hold some delightful conversations on learned matters with a very rising young scholar who then resided at Knaresborough,--Eugene Aram. Conversations as difficult to obtain as delightful to remember, for he was exceedingly reserved." "Aram!" repeated Walter. "What, you know him then?--and where does he live now?" "In--, very near my uncle's residence. He is certainly a remarkable man." "Yes, indeed he promised to become so. At the time I refer to, he was poor to penury, and haughty as poor; but it was wonderful to note the iron energy with which he pursued his progress to learning. Never did I see a youth,--at that time he was no more,--so devoted to knowledge for itself. 'Doctrin‘ pretium triste magister habet.'" "Methinks," added Elmore, "I can see him now, stealing away from the haunts of men, 'With even step and musing gait,'-- across the quiet fields, or into the woods, whence he was certain not to re-appear till night-fall. Ah! he was a strange and solitary being, but full of genius, and promise of bright things hereafter. I have often heard since of his fame as a scholar, but could never learn where he lived or what was now his mode of life. Is he yet married?" "Not yet, I believe; but he is not now so absolutely poor as you describe him to have been then, though certainly far from rich." "Yes, yes, I remember that he received a legacy from a relation shortly before he left Knaresborough. He had very delicate health at that time: has he grown stronger with increasing years?" "He does not complain of ill health. And pray, was he then of the same austere and blameless habits of life that he now professes?"