iry
castles, and, above all, the pleasure of triumph and dominion, and the
resolution not to yield, and the delight of leading.

CHAPTER XII.

"Our hearts and all our members, being mortified from all worldly
and carnal lusts:" so speaks the collect with which we begin the new
year--such the prayer to which the lips of the young Langfords said,
"Amen:" but what was its application to them? What did they do with the
wicked world in their own guarded homes? There was Uncle Geoffrey, he
was in the world. It might be for him to pray for that spirit which
enabled him to pass unscathed through the perils of his profession,
neither tempted to grasp at the honours nor the wealth which lay in his
way, unhardened and unsoured by the contact of the sin and selfishness
on every side. This might indeed be the world. There was Jessie Carey,
with her love of dress, and admiration, and pleasure; she should surely
pray that she might live less to the vanities of the world; there were
others, whose worn countenances spoke of hearts devoted to the cares of
the world; but to those fair, fresh, happy young things, early taught
how to prize vain pomp and glory, their minds as yet free from anxiety,
looking from a safe distance on the busy field of trial and temptation;
were not they truly kept from that world which they had renounced?

Alas! that they did not lay to heart that the world is everywhere; that
if education had placed them above being tempted by the poorer, cheaper,
and more ordinary attractions, yet allurements there were for them also.
A pleasure pursued with headlong vehemence because it was of their own
devising, love of rule, the spirit of rivalry, the want of submission;
these were of the world. Other temptations had not yet reached them, but
if they gave way to those which assailed them in their early youth, how
could they expect to have strength to bear up against the darker and
stronger ones which would meet their riper years?

Even before daylight had fully found its way into Knight Sutton Hall,
there was many a note of preparation, and none clearer or louder than
those of the charade actors. Beatrice was up long before light, in the
midst of her preparations, and it was not long after, as, lamp in hand,
she whisked through the passages, Frederick's voice was heard demanding
whether the Busy Bee had turned into a firefly, and if the paste was
made wherewith Midas was to have his crown stuck with gold paper.