the strictest requirements of honor, inasmuch as it involved the ruin of
his health, the example is noble and strengthening. It may be said, on
the other hand, that Scott was the possessor of a 'magic wand,' and did
right in attempting what to other men would be impossible. Carlyle, if I
remember his article, attributes Scott's conduct partly to worldly
pride, and thinks he should have owned at once that he had made a great
mistake, involving others in his ruin, and should have abandoned the
tremendous struggle still to bear up under such a weight. This is a
singular view of the matter, and one that a man of Scott's sense of
honor never would have felt satisfied in taking. The lives of Scott and
Charlotte Bronté are worth more than their novels, after all.

One of the minor evils of loss of fortune has, I think, been
exaggerated, and that is the idea that persons are frequently slighted,
sometimes even cut, by their fashionable acquaintances; and connected
with this is the other idea, that what some sneeringly call 'fashionable
society,' is generally more heartless than any other. For the honor of
human nature, I am glad to believe that the first is not the case, nor
does the second exactly stand to reason. In every city, there is a class
of persons, moneyed or not as the case may be, who, living only for
selfish enjoyment, pay court to those that can yield it to them, and are
sometimes rude enough to slight those who can not. Whether the
companionship of such persons is very desirable, or their loss much to
be deplored, each man must decide for himself. Persons who, when rich
themselves, have been overbearing to others, are perhaps those who
notice most difference when misfortunes overtake them. What is called
fashionable society, generally comprises a good deal of the education
and refinement of a city; with a portion of what is hollow and
worthless, it includes much that is substantial and true. Certainly, the
finer and more delicate feelings of our nature, and those which lead us