They have an idol to which they consecrate themselves

high-priest, and deem it holy work to offer sacrifices of whatever is

most precious; and never once seem to suspect--so cunning has the Devil

been with them--that this false deity, in whose iron features,

immitigable to all the rest of mankind, they see only benignity and

love, is but a spectrum of the very priest himself, projected upon the

surrounding darkness. And the higher and purer the original object,

and the more unselfishly it may have been taken up, the slighter is the

probability that they can be led to recognize the process by which

godlike benevolence has been debased into all-devouring egotism.

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Of course I am perfectly aware that the above statement is exaggerated,

in the attempt to make it adequate. Professed philanthropists have

gone far; but no originally good man, I presume, ever went quite so far

as this. Let the reader abate whatever he deems fit. The paragraph

may remain, however, both for its truth and its exaggeration, as

strongly expressive of the tendencies which were really operative in

Hollingsworth, and as exemplifying the kind of error into which my mode

of observation was calculated to lead me.

The issue was, that in

solitude I often shuddered at my friend. In my recollection of his

dark and impressive countenance, the features grew more sternly

prominent than the reality, duskier in their depth and shadow, and more

lurid in their light; the frown, that had merely flitted across his

brow, seemed to have contorted it with an adamantine wrinkle. On

meeting him again, I was often filled with remorse, when his deep eyes

beamed kindly upon me, as with the glow of a household fire that was

burning in a cave. "He is a man after all," thought I; "his Maker's

own truest image, a philanthropic man!--not that steel engine of the

Devil's contrivance, a philanthropist!" But in my wood-walks, and in my

silent chamber, the dark face frowned at me again.

When a young girl comes within the sphere of such a man, she is as

perilously situated as the maiden whom, in the old classical myths, the

people used to expose to a dragon. If I had any duty whatever, in

reference to Hollingsworth, it was to endeavor to save Priscilla from

that kind of personal worship which her sex is generally prone to

lavish upon saints and heroes. It often requires but one smile out of

the hero's eyes into the girl's or woman's heart, to transform this

devotion, from a sentiment of the highest approval and confidence, into

passionate love. Now, Hollingsworth smiled much upon Priscilla,--more

than upon any other person. If she thought him beautiful, it was no

wonder.




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