influence of that subtle sphere to which we refer.

Everywhere and at all times are we exposed to the action of these
mental and moral spheres, which act upon and impress us in thousands
of different ways, now carrying us along in some sudden public
excitement in which passion drowns the voice of reason, and now
causing us to drift in the wake of some stronger nature than our own
whose active thought holds ours in a weak, assenting bondage.

You understand what we mean. Now take the pervading sphere of an
occasion like the one we are describing, and do you not see that to
go against it is possible only to persons of decided convictions and
strong individuality? The common mass of men and women are absorbed
into or controlled by its subtle power. They can no more set
themselves against it, if they would, than against the rush of a
swiftly-flowing river. To the young it is irresistible.

As Ellis Whitford, with Blanche leaning on his arm, gained the
supper-room, he met the eyes of his mother, who was on the opposite
side of the table, and read in them a sign of warning. Did it awaken
a sense of danger and put him on his guard? No; it rather stirred a
feeling of anger. Could she not trust him among gentlemen and
ladies--not trust him with Blanche Birtwell by his side? It hurt his
pride and wounded his self-esteem.

He was in the sphere of liberty and social enjoyment and among those
who did not believe that wine was a mocker, but something to make
glad the heart and give joy to the countenance; and when it began to
flow he was among the first to taste its delusive sweets. Blanche,
for whom he poured a glass of champagne, took it from his hand, but