"I would say," exclaimed Louis, "that he is the merriest devil I ever saw, if I could give so poor a name to so rich a wit!"
"Call him Belial," said the Pastor, with a meaning smile; "and you will name him rightly."
Louis laughed; and replied,--"If you will have him a fallen angel, he must be Satan himself:
For such high-reaching thought, and port superb, Could ne'er be native with the grov'ling crew That sunk in raging Phlegethon!"
The Pastor shook his head with another smile; and Louis ran on, talking of the Duke's lofty demeanor at one season; of its playful condescension at another: and in the guileless exhilaration of his own heart, described the air with which Wharton drank his Burgundy; how he graced each draught with a brilliant song, adapted by himself to words of Horace or Anacreon, in their original language. Then he spoke of the Duke's eloquent criticisms on the classics; of his wit in apt references to them, and to the best writers of France and Italy; and of the sportive manner with which he trifled, with the foibles of the company around him;--"seeming," continued Louis, "to stoop from his native height, merely' to skim the grosser element, in condescending fellowship with those heavy sons of earth. And the Duke tells me the change is pleasant; for it is only burrowing a little amongst the gnomes, to enjoy with keener relish the etherial joys of the upper regions!"
"Here, my Lord," continued the Pastor, in his narrative to the Marquis, "was the snare I had dreaded. When we were alone, I declared my apprehensions to my nephew; but he combated my suspicions with all the pleadings of ingenuous enthusiasm. Louis had never felt more than general kindliness for any of the young men of his acquaintance. For, I am sorry to say that education is not a principle of these times: and my boy found few to understand any part of his intellectual pursuits, till he met this highly-gifted nobleman. Wharton is also master of every avenue to an unsuspecting heart. This, too, was the first time that any thing like his own ideas of friendship had come before my nephew; and when they were proffered by so specious a character, it was hardly surprising that even the short intimacy of a fortnight should bewilder his imagination and captivate his heart. When I became aware of the depth of the impression, I took up the subject in the serious light it demanded. I narrated several instances of the Duke's ill-conduct in various relations of life; and shewed at once to Louis the deleterious cup he was so tenaciously holding, since it had already induced him to confound right and wrong, by denominating the ruffian violence he had received in his helpless childhood, _mere folly and frolic_! His countenance betrayed there was a powerful contention in his mind. I conjured him to reflect on what I had said; to hearken to my warning voice, as he would to that of his distant father, or to the last admonitions of his departed mother. Tears burst from his eyes; and kissing my hands, he solemnly pledged himself never again to be a willing resident in the same house with the Duke of Wharton. His Grace had separated from the travelling party, and was gone to Ireland. But that did not prevent me calling on Sir Anthony; and though he did not see the reasonableness of my alarm, he was prevailed on to make me a promise that he would not again be instrumental in bringing his nephew into the society of the Duke.