"Perhaps I am, sir; and on this subject I wish others were as warm as myself. To eulogize such men as Lord Nelson, and hold them up to youth as fit objects for admiration and imitation, is laying the axe at the root of all morality. It is not, indeed, going softly to work, like a Rousseau, or Voltaire, to undermine the {83} foundation of their virtue, but demolishes the whole fabric at once, by telling them, that if capable of performing a few brilliant actions, such a halo will shine around them, as will entirely conceal from the eyes of every beholder their want of sincerity, truth, fidelity, or moral honor. Wo to my country, when the public sentiment shall be so far corrupted, as to think that heroism, and what is known by the name of _glory_, can compensate for the want of true, consistent, undying virtue!" Montague chanced to be looking at Margarette when Mr. Claremont began to speak, and the look she gave Mr. Gordon fixed his attention upon her, though he heard not the remark that called it forth. He watched her countenance with deep interest, as it gradually lighted up to a glow of admiring approbation, strangely intermingled with a shade of sadness. "I will have her opinion on this subject from her own lips," thought he; and placing himself near her, he said-- "What is your opinion of Lord Nelson, Miss Claremont?" "O, exactly the same as my uncle's," said Margarette. "And how could it be otherwise? when I have so often heard my dear father express sentiments exactly similar. He very carefully taught me, never to let any external glory, any meretricious glare, blind me to real defects, or to the want of intrinsic and solid excellence." Her eye, as she finished speaking, sparkled through a tear, which was not unobserved by either Montague or Gordon. "There is, then, a fountain of feeling within," thought Montague, as he still looked upon her--"A fountain of deep, pure, noble feeling!" "By Jupiter, there is a tear!" thought Gordon--"and Montague has had the good fortune to call it forth. Who would have thought, that to talk of Lord Nelson, was the way to touch her heart? I would have given a thousand dollars, rather than he should have had this triumph!" * * * * * One morning Montague called at Mr. Claremont's, but found that both the young ladies were out. Mr. Claremont, however, was in the parlor, and he and Montague had passed a very pleasant half hour, ere Alice and Margarette came in. Margarette bade Montague 'good morning'--but Alice just nodded at him, and hastened to her uncle, and seating herself on his knee, exclaimed-- "Dear uncle, I am so glad you are in! I want to ask a great favor of you." "What is that, my dear?" said Mr. Claremont. "I am half afraid to tell," said Alice, "you will think me so extravagant. But, dear uncle, Margarette and I have seen the two most beautiful pearl necklaces at Wendall's, you ever beheld!" "And you want them?"