stealing away under covert
of those still cedars, into the wilder landscape of the well-wooded
undulating park. Within, viewed by the placid glimmer of the moon, the
scene was no less characteristic of the abodes of that race which has no
parallel in other lands, and which, alas! is somewhat losing its native
idiosyncrasies in this,--the stout country gentleman, not the fine
gentleman of the country; the country gentleman somewhat softened and
civilized from the mere sportsman or farmer, but still plain and homely;
relinquishing the old hall for the drawing-room, and with books not
three months old on his table, instead of Fox's "Martyrs" and Baker's
"Chronicle," yet still retaining many a sacred old prejudice, that, like
the knots in his native oak, rather adds to the ornament of the grain
than takes from the strength of the tree. Opposite to the window, the
high chimneypiece rose to the heavy cornice of the ceiling, with dark
panels glistening against the moonlight. The broad and rather clumsy
chintz sofas and settees of the reign of George III. contrasted at
intervals with the tall-backed chairs of a far more distant generation,
when ladies in fardingales and gentlemen in trunk-hose seem never to
have indulged in horizontal positions. The walls, of shining wainscot,
were thickly covered, chiefly with family pictures; though now and then
some Dutch fair or battle-piece showed that a former proprietor had been
less exclusive in his taste for the arts. The pianoforte stood open
near the fireplace; a long dwarf bookcase at the far end added its sober
smile to the room. That bookcase contained what was called "The Lady's
Library,"--a collection commenced by the squire's grandmother, of pious
memory, and completed by his mother, who had more taste for the lighter
letters, with but little addition from the bibliomaniac tendencies
of the present Mrs. Hazeldean, who, being no great reader, contented
herself with subscribing to the Book Club. In this feminine Bodleian,
the sermons collected by Mrs. Hazeldean, the grandmother, stood
cheek-by-jowl beside the novels purchased by Mrs. Hazeldean, the
mother,--

"Mixtaque ridenti colocasia fundet acantho!"

But, to be sure, the novels, in spite of very inflammatory titles, such
as "Fatal Sensibility," "Errors of the Heart," etc., were so harmless
that I doubt if the sermons could have had much to say against their
next-door neighbours,--and that is all that can be expected