“Who shall pretend to know the heart of man!” he answered, again inclining his head as it might be in acknowledgment of her perfect right to far deeper homage. “All are strangers, till we can read their most secret thoughts.”
“To pry into the mysteries of the human mind, is a privilege which few possess,” coldly remarked the governess. “The world must be often tried, and thoroughly known, before we may pretend to judge of the motives of any around us.”
“And yet it is a pleasant world to those who have the heart to make it merry,” cried the Rover, with one of those startling transitions which marked his manner. “To him who is stout enough to follow the bent of his humour, all is easy. Do you know, that the true secret of the philosopher is not in living for ever, but in living while you may. He who dies at fifty, after a fill of pleasure, has had more of life than he who drags his feet through a century, bearing the burden of the world’s caprices, and afraid to speak above his breath, lest, forsooth, his neighbour should find that his words were evil.”
“And yet are there some who find their pleasure in pursuing the practices of virtue.”
“’Tis lovely in your sex to say it,” he answered with an air that the sensitive governess fancied was gleaming with the growing licentiousness of a free booter. She would now gladly have, dismissed her visiter; but a certain flashing of the eye, and a manner that was becoming gay by a species of unnatural effort, admonished her of the danger of offending one who acknowledged no law but his own will. Assuming a tone and a manner that were kind, while they upheld the dignity of her sex, and pointing to sundry instruments of music that formed part of the heterogeneous furniture of the cabin, she adroitly turned the discourse, by saying,—
“One whose mind can be softened by harmony and whose feelings are so evidently alive to the in fluence of sweet sounds, should not decry the pleasures of virtue. This flute, and yon guitar, both call you master.”
“And, because of these flimsy evidences about my person, you are willing to give me credit for the accomplishments you mention! Here is another mistake of miserable mortality! Seeming is the everyday robe of honesty. Why not give me credit for kneeling, morning and night, before yon glittering bauble?” he added, pointing to the diamond crucifix which hung, as usual, near the door of his own apartment.
“I hope, at least, that the Being, whose memory is intended to be revived by that image, is not without your homage. In the pride of his strength and prosperity, man may think lightly of the consolations that can flow from a power superior to humanity: but those who have oftenest proved their value feel deepest the reverence which is their due.”
The look of the governess had been averted from her companion; but, filled with the profound sentiment she uttered, her mild reflecting eye turned to him again, as, in a tone that was subdued, in respect for the mighty Being whose attributes filled her mind, she uttered the above simple sentiment. The gaze she met was earnest and thoughtful as her own. Lifting a finger he laid it on her arm, with a motion so light as to be scarcely perceptible, while he asked,—
“Think you we are to blame, if our temperaments incline more to evil than power is given to resist?”