admirably," I said, looking round. It was valuing what he gives, perhaps by making no compliment. I never saw better ap- us realise that old school-book linepointed chambers. flight.' By-and-by I brought out this, my note-How blessings brighten as they take their book, and began to write. Ruth's knitting needles clicked awfully fast. I know she thought me trifling. "Is that your correspondence, Edward?" she inquired, in that cool voice of hers, which always makes me feel so deferential. 'No; I'm only writing about about " “Your sphere, eh, Edward?" and the voice was cooler still. "Well, yes," I answered, growing desperate, "and yours too, Ruth.' "You needn't trouble yourself about mine," she said. "Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.' That's all the sphere I care about, Ned." "That is just what I wish to illustrate," I explained. "The words are plain enough as they stand," said she. Nevertheless, Ned," my sister began, in her softer manner, "I own even the wisest take long in learning that there is no better work for them than the bit God puts into their hands. I know I have often neglected some duties, because it was out of my power to perform others." I could hardly restrain a smile to hear her use her own shortcomings as proof of But I knew it meant no harm. It was only a habit she had acquired through being the sole responsible person in the old home at Mallowe. the weakness of "the wisest." "And, Ruth," I answered, "there are also people who perform the far-off duties before those near at hand." "Ah, yes," said she, "like the young woman who could play the piano, but had not learned the use of a thimble." "And there are still others," I went on, "who yearn after blessings they cannot get, and undervalue those they have." Ah, feelings are different to deeds," she said. "To them we can scarcely say 'I will' or 'I will not.'" "I think God will help us through our yearnings for what he withholds," I remarked; "but he will surely punish our under And speaking of school-books, reminds me that many people will not learn what they may, because they cannot learn what they would, not knowing that the path of possibility often guides safely through the maze of improbability; and they seldom find out their error till too late." "Yes, truly," assented Ruth, clenching my meanderings with a proverb: "He who will not when he may, When he will, he shall have nay." And then she rose and went off about some household arrangement, leaving me to puzzle out a few more thoughts on the wisdom of doing first the thing which lieth nearest. But it would not do. The silent beauty of the prospect stretching far before my windows wooed me from my papers, and after a few ineffectual attempts at perseverance, I put them aside, got my hat (oh joy! not a dingy beaver, but a cool, light straw), and sauntered out. Now, it's just like me to want to know more about what I know already. So, instead of turning to the left and taking the road I had never seen, I turned to the right and pursued the path along which I had travelled at noon. was cooler now. The sun was getting low, and the shadows were broader and darker. Very soon I came in sight of the great farm, with its outlying houses. The young workman was still lingering by the gate, which was now mended, and beside him stood a slight figure in white cap and apron. As I drew near I recognised the pale face of my servant, Alice M'Callum. She turned and acknowledged my presence. It "A fine afternoon, Alice," I said. "Do you know, when I saw you at dinner, I fancied I had met relations of yours in the morning, and I suppose I am right." "This is my brother Ewen, sir," she answered. "And you have a grandfather too?" I went on. "I heard him singing the Scotch psalms as I passed." "Ah, he is always cheerful, sir," she said, and I thought her lips quivered a little. "Has he gone to his tea?" I inquired, looking round, for he was not in sight. "No," said the young man. "He's just inside yonder tool-house." OCCUPATIONS OF A RETIRED LIFE. The words were civil enough, though rather abrupt, but the voice startled me. Like his sister's, it was a refined voice, yet there was in it a harsh tone of defiance, as if he were ready to direct me anywhere, so as it took me away from him. I looked at the girl. Her eyes brother's face, with an expression of minwere fixed on her gled pity and terror. There was something in her countenance which made my heart ache. "I will go and speak to your grandfather, Alice," I said. As I drew near the tool-house, the old man came out. Seeing me approach him, and recognising the traveller of the morning, he gave me a sort of half-military salutation, and stood still. "I find your grand-daughter Alice is one of my household," I said. "She does not seem a very strong girl; but our service will not be hard." "Alice is quite content, sir," answered the old man cheerfully. "Were your grandchildren born in England?" I inquired. "The boy was; Alice wasn't," replied the patriarch. "Alice was born in the Highlands of Scotland. She says she can just remember the place; but I doubt, sir, that's more from my talk than from her memory. Ah, I see it as if I'd only left it yesterday aweel! I don't say it was bonnier than this, nor so bonnie maybe," and he looked round, "but for a' that, sir, to auld folk there's nae place like the auld place." those I've heard of, have prospered. If the They mostly went to Canada. All who were sent to their graves a little before Earl ever frets about the few old people their time, he may comfort himself wi' the thocht it was a good change for the many in brings good out of evil, sir.” the long run. That's the way the Lord "Your family didn't go abroad?" I queried. and his wife was a poor ailing creature, who "No, sir," he said. "I had only one son, would have died on shipboard. Yet she said harder things of the Earl than she did. had a wonderfu' spirit: there was no one At the same time, sir, if she could have shown him a kindness, I'm sure she'd hae came down here, and my son got a place as done it. So, instead of going abroad, we well, only the wife died when little Ewen manager on a farm, and we all did very dren were 'most grown up. We have had was born. My son lived till both his chilhard lines, sir, since then, but I'm glad he died when he did." 66 Why, how is that?" I inquired. "Ah, sir, it's a terrible story, and might and however you may judge about the boy, be better untold. But you seem kind, sir, what I can tell will help you to understand Alice." "Your grand-daughter certainly looks unhappy, Mr. M'Callum," said I. man, with a strange pathos of solemn calmShe's just witherin' up," said the old ness. down the lane past the farmhouse, and as During our conversation we had strolled M-Callum spoke thus, he paused beside a rude fencing which enclosed a low-lying woody meadow, through which ran a narrow stream. "What made you leave it?" I asked. "Ye may well believe, no o' my ain will," said he," but the Earl, to whose forefathers mine had paid honest rent for a hundred years, took it into his head to make a great sheep farm. So we had notice to quit. Not us only, sir. More than thirty homes were broken up on the same day. One or two hearts were broken, too, I'm feared. Yet the Earl was a kind man, sir, and had never been hard after a bad season. suppose he didn't kuow people could care I for old walls that had no 'scutcheons on them. I don't doubt he did it never thinking. But that didn't save our sorrow." Was there any resistance? "No, sir; there were a few fierce words at first, but we understood well enoo' that the Earl could do as he willed wi' his own. And if his agents were kind-hearted folk, why should we make their work painfu' tae old man, with a humility like that of a child "I'll come - I'm comin'," answered the them? And if they were cruel, why should detected in some indiscretion. we resist what we couldna' withstand, and he whispered, "it has nothing to do with gie them the pleasure o' conquerin,' as they her, except that it's hurrying her away to Mind, sir," were sure to do? We don't like being be an angel in heaven." "It happened there!" he said. white and breathless. But Alice came running behind us, quite cried, "Ewen is waiting for you to go to "Grandfather," she tea. You know he must make haste back to an appealing look, as if she only wished she finish his work," and as she spoke she gave knew what was told and what remained unsaid. - 46 We retraced our steps very slowly, for the old man was unmistakably feeble. Alice walked by his side in silence. We found Ewen waiting for us where we had left him. Their home lay down a narrow lane, leading from the road. I caught a glimpse of it a rude wooden cottage, with bulging windows. "I have put your tea ready, grandfather," said Alice. "Thank ye, my girl; and I'm sure, sir, we're kindly obliged to Mistress Garrett for giving her leave to run out whiles, and do us a turn at housekeeping. Good evening, sir." "Good evening, Mr. M'Callum," I answered; "good evening," I added, turning to the young man, but he walked away as if he had not heard. Alice stepped before me and opened the garden gate. She held it while I passed in. Then she said timidly," Don't think hardly of my brother, sir. His manner is strange, but he has been through seas of trouble." "Is he quite ashore now, Alice?" I inquired. She did not answer for a minute, but her lip and brow quivered. "I'm afraid, sir, it's as right as it ever will be," she said, and burst into tears. "My dear girl," I began, "I don't want to hear anything you do not wish to tell, but " "You'll hear it all soon enough, sir," she said, with a desperate effort to stop her tears; "but I wanted you to know us a little before you heard." "Yet, would it not be best for you to tell me your own story? Why should I be left to hear what other people say?”. "Then I've got no story to tell, sir," she answered with sudden calmness. "The only story is what the people say, and they say a lie!" There was a clear emphasis in her voice which made me look down at her. Her tears were dried, and her eyes were bright and fixed, like those of a person fronting a railing mob. "Then I should not heed them, Alice." "Yes, sir, you would," she replied. Her flat contradiction was quite respectful. She saw life from a position in which I had never stood. She was the wisest in this matter. By this time we had reached the hall. I held out my hand to her, as Mr. Lambert had given me his on the day I heard of Lucy's death. "Well, at least, Alice," I said, "remem ber, I am ready to hear whenever you wish to tell. Do not be too sure that a friend's aid is useless." She let her hand stay in mine for about a minute. It was very cold. Then she raised her eyes and opened her mouth, so that I saw rather than heard her thanks. I went into the parlour. My papers still lay about the table, and Ruth had not returned. I wondered if she knew anything of the tragedy of which I had caught a glimpse. I resolved not to ask her about it yet, for I believed she had a practical person's strong dislike to mystery. And what was this mystery? It seemed connected with that handsome, abrupt young workman, scarcely more than a youth. His sister denied its truth, whatever it might be, but I knew that loving women have a happy gift of disbelieving what they choose. Her grandfather had certainly spoken less decidedly; and I could not forget his words as we stood beside that low, deserted meadow, with its sluggish stream. "It happened there." What happened? It pained me greatly to see the suffering written on my servant's face. When she brought in our tea she was as composed as possible; but I had been behind the scenes, and I knew there was a reason for her worn cheeks, and for the strange note that sounded occasionally in her voice. Yet what could I do to help ber? It occurred to me, I might find an opportunity of speaking to the young man alone. I know some people suffer from a strange reserve, which makes them more willing to open their hearts to strangers than to their dearest friends. This arises from a morbid sensitiveness which cannot bear constantly to meet eyes that understand all about us. Now this disposition ought not to be punished or preached at. It is a spiritual disease, and must be pitied and cured. At the same time, I doubt if it ever wholly disappears. To this day, I am glad Ruth never guessed about Lucy Weston. After tea, my sister resumed her knitting, and as I fumbled with my papers, I caught her dark eyes watching me with an arch expression. Presently she said "How did you like your afternoon walk, Edward? Had you any adventures ? " "Hem I answered, guiltily; "at least, I met Alice in the lane, talking to her brother and grandfather. The old man seems a shrewd, pleasant Scotchman, and he sent his thanks to you for permitting Alice to look after his household arrangements." no "Ah, poor man! I should think myself a hard woman if I denied him any comfort | lady's maid there, and she left because all in my power to give," said Ruth. "Any special reason for saying so?" I inquired. "I believe the young man is as bad as he can be," returned my sister. "There's one very dark story whispered about him in the neighbourhood. He was tried for a fearful deed and acquitted. So, of course, human eyes must henceforth regard him as innocent. I'll not repeat the story, for I don't know any particulars." "I gathered something of this from their talk in the afternoon," I said. "At any rate, his sister believes him guiltless." "She's one of those women who are made to be heart-broken," remarked Ruth; "she'd not love him less if she knew him guilty." "Thank God for such love," I said. helps us to understand His own." "It my Yes, that's all very fine," returned sister, "but it seems hard one should be a martyr that others may learn a lesson." "Yet it is often God's will," said I. "Well, Edward," she answered, "I don't suppose He wishes it, but as He permits it, of course we must be satisfied. He will make it up to the sufferers in His own good time." "He makes it up now," I said. "Love is ever its own reward. It purifies the heart which holds it." "So does fire purify silver," retorted Ruth," but I doubt if the silver likes the process while it is going on." "Yet I am sure Alice would not.give up her sisterly love even if she could," I pleaded. "Ah, she can't give it up, so that settles the question," returned Ruth. "There is no laying down the crosses that grow out of our own hearts, and they are always heaviest !" "The heaviest cross makes the brightest crown," I said. "I suppose so," she answered. "But when one is over tired with carrying a burden on a long journey, one has not always strength to look forward to the very end. The little bit of road under each footstep is often quite enough!" "Just so," I said, "and so doing, we shall suddenly find ourselves on the threshold of Home!" the servants took sides against her brother, and that she could not bear. Besides she wished to be nearer her relations in their trouble,' as she called it. So I offered to take her, and she was quite thankful to come, though our service is much inferior to what she left at the Hall. I told her plainly she was a simpleton. But she only answered Never mind.'" 66 Well, Ruth," I said, "I am truly thankful you acted as you did. Few women would have courage to engage a servant who expressly wished to be near a relation with a very dark story.'' "I am not in the habit of judging individuals by their connections," she answered, "and I liked the girl's faithfulness. Besides, for the matter of fear, I may as well tell you I keep pistols." Bless me, Ruth!" I ejaculated. "Well," said she coolly, turning her needles, and beginning another row. "Better do that, than not do what you wish because you're frightened." "When did you begin that custom?" I inquired. "Twenty years ago," she answered; "at the time when I hired a youth to be messenger and odd man about the house and garden at Mallowe.” "Then you took two or three means of protection at the same time," I said. "I didn't know whether the lad would be a protection," she replied drily. "He had been a convict, and he hung about the village, saying he could not do anything, because no one would give him a chance. I resolved he should not have that excuse any longer. So I rode to Hopleigh and bought two pistols, and took some lessons in their use. Then I hired him, and he slept in the room over mine. He never knew about the firearms. He thought I trusted him entirely. I think it was a harmless deception. Had he shown himself unworthy of trust he would have found out his mistake." "Then you were not disappointed in him?" "No," she said, "he is now highly respectable, and is head man on one of the best farms near the village." "Ruth," said I, gazing earnestly at her, as she sat opposite me, as upright as a dart, you never told me this before." Then followed a long silence. At last I" asked, “From what service did you take Alice M'Callum ?" "From Mallowe Hall," answered Ruth. "I knew her by her coming to my old shop, and I always had a liking for her. She was Why should I?" she replied, returning my gaze with a sharp glance from her keen bazel eyes. "You would have urged me not to do it, or not to do such things again, as the case might be. And yet I'll engage But you've been doing the like in London. | apples I have seen, which have green, tart We're all willing to be a little brave or rinds, yet are very sweet at the core. kind ourselves, but we're prone to wish our if God has ever sent my sister one of those friends to shut themselves into safe, selfish special sorrows with which "a stranger incupboards, just to save our own feelings termeddleth not," she must have suffered and fears." very much, as such strong natures do. They always shut their sorrows in their own hearts, which is very like covering a crown of thorns with an iron helmet. God bless her! I almost wish she had been born to rank and wealth—she seems just the woman to save a country, like Joan of Arc, or Elizabeth, or Maria Theresa. "Well, Ruth," I said (thinking this was a good opportunity), "I've come to the conclusion I'll have a little conversation with young Ewen M'Callum myself." "Very well," she replied, “only you need not speak to him beside pools in lonely fields." "But supposing the best opportunity occurs in such a locality?" I said, smiling. "I cannot get into you to direct your conscience," she answered. "But don't follow my example in everything except the pis tols!" At that moment Phillis brought in our supper, and our conversation fell into very ordinary channels, until we finally said good night, and retired to our respective chambers. I wonder if Ruth has really had no romance in her life. I am not so sure of it as I was last night. She is certainly like some Yet, after all, but few are needed to do these out-of-the-way tasks which startle the world, and one may be most useful just doing common-place duties and leaving the issue with God. And when it is all over, and our feet will run no more, and our hands are helpless, and we have scarcely strength to murmur a last prayer, then we shall see that instead of needing a larger field, we have left untilled many corners of our single acre, and that none of it is fit for our Master's eye, were it not for the softening shadow of the Cross. CATES'S BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY.* | selle" occupied the first place among biographical dictionaries, the French apLAST year saw the completion of the best pearing to have a special talent for works biographical dictionary which has ever yet of this nature. England has never been been published in any country. The "Nou- particularly distinguished for works of refvelle Biographie Générale," published by erence of this class, the dictionary by MM. Firmin Didot, under the superintend- Chalmers, although it occupies thirty-two ence of Dr. Hoefer, was commenced in volumes, being very far from satisfactory as 1855, and thus eleven years elapsed between far as regards completeness; as is likewise the issuing of its first and its last parts. It the case with the otherwise exceedingly contains forty-six large volumes, printed in valuable biographical section of Mr. Charles double columns, and therefore is able to Knight's "English Cyclopædia." In the afford to each name of importance a fair former, men of letters occupy an undue share of its text. The articles are carefully share of space, in the latter it is often very written, and it is altogether a highly cred- difficult to find out on what principle the itable performance. Previous to its appear- selection of names has been made, very ance, the well-known "Biographie Univer-exhaustive articles having been written A Dictionary of General Biography; with a Classified and Chronological Index of the Principal Names. Edited by W. L. R. Cates. London: Longmans. upon some comparatively unimportant individuals, while others who seem to have merited a better fate have been altogether omitted, or treated with undue curtness. |