Here it was the clergyman's turn to color a little, and there was a just perceptible tremor of the under lip.

"Pardon me," continued the lady, courteously, "but if there is any one blemish in the character of the Reverend Mr. Palsgrave, it is that the benevolence of his heart, too much warps in him the holy rigor of our Church's doctrines. For my part, as I loathe the man, I loathe the woman, and never desire to behold the child."

A pause ensued, during which it was fortunate for Pierre, that by the social sorcery of such occasions as the present, the eyes of all three were intent upon the cloth; all three for the moment, giving loose to their own distressful meditations upon the subject in debate, and Mr. Palsgrave vexedly thinking that the scene was becoming a little embarrassing.

Pierre was the first who spoke; as before, he steadfastly kept his eyes away from both his auditors; but though he did not designate his mother, something in the tone of his voice showed that what he said was addressed more particularly to her.

"Since we seem to have been strangely drawn into the ethical aspect of this melancholy matter," said he, "suppose we go further in it; and let me ask, how it should be between the legitimate and the illegitimate child-children of one father-when they shall have passed their childhood?"

Here the clergyman quickly raising his eyes, looked as surprised and searchingly at Pierre, as his politeness would permit.

"Upon my word,"-said Mrs. Glendinning, hardly less surprised, and making no attempt at disguising it-"this is an odd question you put; you have been more attentive to the subject than I had fancied. But what do you mean, Pierre? I did not entirely understand you."

"Should the legitimate child shun the illegitimate, when one father is father to both?" rejoined Pierre, bending his head still further over his plate.

The clergyman looked a little down again, and was silent; but still turned his head slightly sideways toward his hostess, as if awaiting some reply to Pierre from her.

"Ask the world, Pierre"-said Mrs. Glendinning warmly- "and ask your own heart."

"My own heart? I will, Madam"-said Pierre, now looking up steadfastly; "but what do you think, Mr. Palsgrave?" letting his glance drop again-"should the one shun the other? should the one refuse his highest sympathy and perfect love for the other, especially if that other be deserted by all the rest of the world? What think you would have been our blessed Saviour's thoughts on such a matter? And what was that he so mildly said to the adulteress?"

A swift color passed over the clergyman's countenance, suffusing even his expanded brow; he slightly moved in his chair, and looked uncertainly from Pierre to his mother. He seemed as a shrewd, benevolent-minded man, placed between opposite opinions-merely opinions-who, with a full, and doubly-differing persuasion in himself, still refrains from uttering it, because of an irresistible dislike to manifesting an absolute dissent from the honest convictions of any person, whom he both socially and morally esteems.

"Well, what do you reply to my son?" — said Mrs. Glendinning at last.

"Madam and sir"-said the clergyman, now regaining his entire self-possession. "It is one of the social disadvantages which we of.the pulpit labor under, that we are supposed to know more of the moral obligations of humanity than other people. And it is a still more serious disadvantage to the world, that our unconsidered, conversational opinions on the most complex problems of ethics, are too apt to be considered authoritative, as indirectly proceeding from the church itself. Now, nothing can be more erroneous than such notions; and nothing so embarrasses me, and deprives me of that entire serenity, which is indispensable to the delivery of a careful opinion on moral subjects, than when sudden questions of this sort are put to me in company. Pardon this long preamble, for I have little more to say. It is not every question, however direct, Mr. Glendinning, which can be conscientiously answered with a yes or no. Millions of circumstances modify all moral questions; so that though conscience may possibly dictate freely in any known special case; yet, by one universal maxim, to embrace all moral contingencies, — this is not only impossible, but the attempt, to me, seems foolish."

At this instant, the surplice-like napkin dropped from the clergyman's bosom, showing a minute but exquisitely cut cameo brooch, representing the allegorical union of the serpent and dove. It had been the gift of an appreciative friend, and was sometimes worn on secular occasions like the present.

"I agree with you, sir"-said Pierre, bowing. "I fully agree with you. And now, Madam, let us talk of something else."

"You Madam me very punctiliously this morning, Mr. Glendinning"-said his mother, half-bitterly smiling, and half-openly offended, but still more surprised at Pierre's frigid demeanor.

" 'Honor thy father and mother';" said Pierre-"both father and mother," he unconsciously added. "And now that it strikes me, Mr. Palsgrave, and now that we have become so strangely polemical this morning, let me say, that as that command is justly said to be the only one with a promise, so it seems to be without any contingency in the application. It would seem-would it not, sir? — that the most deceitful and hypocritical of fathers should be equally honored by the son, as the purest."

"So it would certainly seem, according to the strict letter of the Decalogue-certainly."

"And do you think, sir, that it should be so held, and so applied in actual life? For instance, should I honor my father, if I knew him to be a seducer?"

"Pierre! Pierre!" said his mother, profoundly coloring, and half rising; "There is no need of these argumentative assumptions. You very immensely forget yourself this morning."

"It is merely the interest of the general question, Madam," returned Pierre, coldly. "I am sorry. If your former objection does not apply here, Mr. Palsgrave, will you favor me with an answer to my question?"

"There you are again, Mr. Glendinning," said the clergyman, thankful for Pierre's hint; "that is another question in morals absolutely incapable of a definite answer, which shall be universally applicable." Again the surplice-like napkin chanced to drop.

"I am tacitly rebuked again then, sir," said Pierre, slowly; "but I admit that perhaps you are again in the right. And now, Madam, since Mr. Palsgrave and yourself have a little business together, to which my presence is not necessary, and may possibly prove quite dispensable, permit me to leave you. I am going off on a long ramble, so you need not wait dinner for me. Good morning, Mr. Palsgrave; good morning, Madam," looking toward his mother.

As the door closed upon him, Mr. Palsgrave spoke-"Mr. Glendinning looks a little pale to-day: has he been ill?"

"Not that I know of," answered the lady, indifferently, "but did you ever see young gentlemen so stately as he was? Extraordinary!" she murmured; "what can this mean-Madam — Madam? But your cup is empty again, sir"-reaching forth her hand.

"No more, no more, Madam," said the clergyman.

"Madam? Pray don't Madam me any more, Mr. Palsgrave; I have taken a sudden hatred to that title."

"Shall it be Your Majesty, then?" said the clergyman, gallantly; "the May Queens are so styled, and so should be the Queens of October."

Here the lady laughed. "Come," said she, "let us go into another room, and settle the affair of that infamous Ned and that miserable Delly."