And in this
rare assembly did the beautiful Mary imbibe that steady reverence for
virtue and talent which no intermixture with the ephemera of the clay
could ever after either displace or impair.
Notwithstanding this rare freedom from the chains with which her
merely fashionable friends would have shackled her mind, Miss
Beaufort possessed too much judgment and delicacy to flash her
liberty in their eyes. Enjoying her independence with meekness, she
held it more secure. Mary was no declaimer, not even in the cause of
oppressed goodness or injured genius. Aware that direct opposition
often incenses malice, she directed the shaft from its aim, if it
were in her power, and when the attempt failed, strove by respect or
sympathy to heal the wound she could not avert. Thus, whatever she
said or did bore the stamp of her soul, whose leading attribute was
modesty. By having learned much, and thought more, she proved in her
conduct that reflection is the alchemy which turns knowledge into
wisdom.
Never did she feel so much regret at the shrinking of her powers from
coming forth by some word or deed in aid of offended worth, as when
she beheld the foreign stranger, so noble in aspect, standing under
the overbearing insolence of Miss Dundas's parasites. But she
perceived that his dignified composure rebounded their darts upon his
insulters, and respect took the place of pity.
Pages:
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369