spirit and system, it might almost be termed persecution, was maintained by the father towards this son from his childhood upwards. He felt doubtless too the reflection, which the zealous love of the boy for his mother cast upon his own conduct in that respect. Never did Mr. Trevor forgive a proof of this spirit, shown forth by the young Eustace in the instance we are about to record. CHAPTER XI. Is there not A reverence in the very name of "mother" Could thrill the ruffian purpose? SHIEL. He is the second born of flesh And is his mother's favourite. BYRON. It was Eugene's birthday. He had coaxed Marryott to give him a treat of cakes and fruit in the garden summer-house. His brothers were invited, and even his father honoured the party with his presence. Marryott presided over the entertainment. Eustace had been out of the way, and did not arrive until the others were assembled. He made his appearance at the banquet all bright, animated expectation, having but just heard of the unwonted indulgence provided him, and prepared to partake in it with full boyish enjoyment. But at the threshold he paused. By one quick glance, his eye had taken in each individual of the collected group. A sudden thought seemed to press upon the wild beatings of his heart. A cloud overshadowed the quick brightness of his brow. "Come along, Eustace!" cried the boy Eugene, "if you mean to come at all." But no, he did not stir. There he stood, rooted to the spot, his changing countenance betokening the struggle of strong feeling passing through his breast, another glance--from which shot forth a gleam of noble fire--around, and then his dark, full eye fixed itself with calmer sternness upon his young brother's face. "No, thank you, Eugene," he said firmly, "I cannot come. My mother she is all alone in the house. I must go to _her_," and instantly he turned, and "Went away with a step strong and slow, His arch'd lip press'd, and his clear eye undimmed, As if it were a diamond, and his form Borne proudly up, as if his heart breathed through." On one occasion, Mrs. Trevor heard the voice of her husband raised in long and angry accents. She listened with trembling misgiving as to the object of his reprehension, but when to words sounds succeeded, plainly betokening bodily chastisement, she could no longer refrain, but hastened to the spot from whence they proceeded. It was Mr. Trevor's study, and on opening the door and entering, she found indeed her beloved boy Eustace under the hands of his father undergoing severe and painful punishment; Eugene standing by like a young Saul, witnessing the martyrdom of a Saint Stephen, holding his brother's coat over his arm, a little pale perhaps, but watching with a tolerably cold and steady eye the proceedings of the parental persecution.