CHAPTER XXII.
"Ah, whence yon glare
That fires the arch of heaven?—that dark red smoke
Blotting the silver moon?"
*****
"And what were earth and stars,
If to the human mind's imaginings
Silence and solitude were vacancy?"—Shelley.
There is something sublime in being out of humour with the whole world. Discontent against an individual is called anger; that against the many, misanthropy. There is a great deal of poetry in an epithet. Lorraine indulged in the latter mood of mind for a week. His brother called—he was denied: a first conciliating note from Mr. Delawarr was unanswered—the second met a cold but bitter reply. Both grew angry, and public dispute ended in private dissension.
It is a curious fact, how violent people get upon political questions, particularly if they are
