e influence of our hero's character in the domestic circle;
perhaps a faintly-outlined circle or two beyond it. But this does
not forbid him to be ranked as one of the most distinguishing of her
children of the day he lived in. Blame the victrix if you think he
should have been livelier.

Nevil soon had to turn his telescope from politics. The torch of war
was actually lighting, and he was not fashioned to be heedless of what
surrounded him. Our diplomacy, after dancing with all the suppleness of
stilts, gravely resigned the gift of motion. Our dauntless Lancastrian
thundered like a tempest over a gambling tent, disregarded. Our worthy
people, consenting to the doctrine that war is a scourge, contracted the
habit of thinking it, in this case, the dire necessity which is the
sole excuse for giving way to an irritated pugnacity, and sucked the
comforting caramel of an alliance with their troublesome next-door
neighbour, profuse in comfits as in scorpions. Nevil detected that
politic element of their promptitude for war. His recollections of
dissatisfaction in former days assisted him to perceive the nature of
it, but he was too young to hold his own against the hubbub of a
noisy people, much too young to remain sceptical of a modern people's
enthusiasm for war while journals were testifying to it down the
length of their columns, and letters from home palpitated with it, and
shipmates yawned wearily for the signal, and shiploads of red coats and
blue, infantry, cavalry, artillery, were singing farewell to the girl
at home, and hurrah for anything in foreign waters. He joined the stream
with a cordial spirit. Since it must be so! The wind of that haughty
proceeding of the Great Bear in putting a paw over the neutral brook
brushed his cheek unpleasantly. He clapped hands for the fezzy defenders
of the border fortress, and when the order came for the fleet to enter
the old romantic sea of storms and fables, he wrote home a letter
fit for his uncle Everard to read. Then there was the sailing and the
landing, and the march up the heights, which Nevil was condemned to
look at. To his joy he obtained an appointment on shore, and after that
Everard heard of him from other channels. The two were of a mind when
the savage winter advanced which froze the attack of the city, and might
be imaged as the hoar god of hostile elements pointing a hand to
the line reached, and menacing at one farther step. Both blamed
the Government, but th