But this was not all: he was now a beggar! the estates were entailed, and descended with the title; and though his father lived in somewhat gloomy retirement, yet the state with which he had surrounded his solitude De Vaux well knew could have left little accumulation from the revenues of his property. Here, then, were new evils to be encountered. Accustomed to luxury, and ease, and plenty, without one thought of that sordid ore, the want of which cramps so many a noble spirit, and stifles so many a great design, he had lived free from one of the greatest burdens upon man. He had never been lavish or extravagant, for such was not a part of his nature; but he had been generous and liberal to others, as well as at ease himself; and now he felt that every expense must be measured and gauged by considerations of economy; that every guinea must be weighed and estimated before it was parted with; that he must look upon money in a light that he had never done before; that he must make it a continual object of thought; that his mind, like the traveller in the land of the Lilliputians, must be painfully pinioned down on every side by the irritating ties of petty cares; that his ease must be at an end, and his generosity cease. There was more, however, far more bitter kept mingling in the draught. Round the idea of one's mother the mind of man clings with fond affection. It is the first sweet, deep thought stamped upon our infant hearts, when yet soft and capable of receiving the most profound impressions, and all the after-feelings of the world are more or less light in comparison. I do not know that even in our old age we do not look back to that feeling as the sweetest we have known through life. Our passions and our wilfulness may lead us far from the object of our filial love; we learn even to pain her heart, to oppose her wishes, to violate her commands; we may become wild, headstrong, and angry at her counsels or her opposition; but when death has stilled her monitory voice, and nothing but calm memory remains to recapitulate her virtues and good deeds, affection, like a flower beaten to the ground by a past storm, raises up her head and smiles among the tears. Round that idea, as we have said, the mind clings with fond affection; and even when the early period of our loss forces memory to be silent, fancy takes the place of remembrance, and twines the image of our dead parent with a garland of graces, and beauties, and virtues, which we doubt not that she possessed. Thus had it been with De Vaux: he could just call to mind a face that had appeared to him very beautiful, and a few kind and tender words from the lips of her he had called mother; but he had fancied her all that was good, and gentle, and virtuous; and now that he was forced to look upon her as a fallen being, as one who had not only forgotten virtue herself, but, in sin, had brought him into the world, to degradation and shame, what could be his feelings towards her?