rdon the continuation
of a figure so illustrative of our meaning--the anatomist knows that not
only can he never hope to lay his finger upon the principle of life, but
that ere he can pry into those cells in which its mysterious processes
are evolved, they must have been dismantled of all that could have
guided him to any certain deductions respecting its nature and mode of
action. And seldom is the eye of the stranger, never that of the
professed bookmaker, suffered to rest upon our homes till they have
undergone changes that will as completely baffle his penetration. Nor is
this always designedly. It is from a delicate instinct which shrinks
from subjecting its most sacred and touching emotions to the rude gaze
and ruder comment of the world.

We have been led to these observations by certain events of which we
have lately become informed, and which we would here record, as
illustrative of some peculiarities of social life in America, and
especially of the new development of character manifested by women under
the influence of these peculiarities.

The ringing of bells, the firing of cannon, the huzzaing of the
assembling multitude on the announcement in London of the victory of
Waterloo, must have seemed a bitter mockery to many a heart, mad with
the first sharp agony of bereavement. "The few must suffer that the many
may rejoice," say the statesman and the warrior while they plan new
conquests. It may be so, but we have at present to do with the
sufferings of the few.

On the list of the killed in that battle appeared the name of Horace
Danforth, Captain in the 41st Regiment of Infantry. It was a name of
little note, but there was one to whom it was the synonyme of all that
gave beauty or gladness to life; and ere the bells had ceased to sound,
or the eager crowd to huzza, her heart was still. With her last
quivering sigh had mingled the wail of a new-born infant.

Thus was Horace Maitland Danforth ushered into life. He had been born at
the house of his maternal uncle, Sir Thomas Maitland, and as his mother
had been wholly dependent on this gentleman, and his father had been a
soldier of fortune, leaving to his son no heritage but his name, he
continued there, as carefully reared and tenderly regarded as though he
had been the heir to Maitland Park and to all its dependencies. Though
Sir Thomas had, for many years after the birth of his nephew intended to
marry, it was an intention never executed, and when Horac