In due course the three weddings were celebrated; and there exists no evidence to prove other than that the six individuals united by the nearest and dearest tie were, by that ceremony, made the very happiest beings in the world, and that they continued to be so for the term of their natural lives. Eustace Wilton, after all, became lord of Eglinton and beneath his roof dwelt, in honour and peace, Nathan Gomer--he would be addressed by no other name. Together they argued, discussed, and contended, and were as happy as any two old gentlemen in the wide world could wish to be. As the main incidents in this tale are founded upon facts, it will hardly be considered unnecessary to draw attention to the moral it is intended to convey. A path of rectitude is laid down in social life for all alike, rich or poor, to pursue. It is beset with snares and pitfalls; with inducements, seductions, and temptations to turn aside almost at every step. To adhere, however, to the fixed principle of acting rightly in every situation in life demands no common powers. A peculiar strength of mind, a clearness of perception to distinguish the real from the unreal, correct, which is something more than common, sense, and even a course of instruction, are deemed little less than essential to achieve the difficult task of pursuing that path unswervingly. “It is one thing to be tempted, Escalus, Another thing to fall.” When those who have been born in the lap of luxury, have been nurtured with tenderness, instructed with care, reared in plenty, surrounded by blessings, caressed with kindred’s holy affection, elevated above the incitements of want, and gifted with that knowledge of good and evil which is imparted by the cultivation of the mind and the aid of religion, yield to temptation, and fall away before seductive arts--what shall be said of her who, unaided by any of these advantages, passes through her path of fire uncharred? What is she among her human sisters, who, endowed alone with that fatal gift to the poor girl--fair looks, struggles with penury and starvation, toils from dawn far, far into the long night, with dim and weary eyelids, and aching fingers, endures the severest straits of destitution, arising from most scantily remunerated labour, yet faces her danger nobly--resists those fascinating temptations which are so terrible in their power to the beautiful but penniless of her sex--wrestles bravely with her narrowed means, and rising superior to all those allurements, which are aided by the urgings of grim want, preserves her purity and her self-respect unsullied, and her independence unabased? What is she among women who, being driven by society itself--in its hunger on the one hand after wealth, and on the other after cheapness--into the very corner of desperation, comes from her crushing ordeal unbruised and undefiled? Is she not a _Flower of the Flock?_