refuse similar applications, because he would not believe that any means should be employed to further the Gospel, the spread of which he viewed with alarm rather than pleasure.

Neither spoke until they emerged into the main street again.

CHAPTER XII.

"I love thee as a kindred heart so closely linked with mine, That all our joys and griefs are one, and all my hopes are thine."-A.

"Few note the virtue that from view retires, few prize the worth that every moment sees;

We mark the tempest's rage, the comet's fires, forget the showers, the sunshine, and the breeze."

"Enwrapt in thick Egyptian night,

W. SMYTHE.

And fond of darkness more than light,
Madly I ran the sinful race,

Too proud to seek a hiding-place.”—BREWER.

"You must come with me to the Library, Ethel; I promised mamma I would bring you to see her this morning," said Ada, as Ethel was about to take leave.

"But I hope to call at Thurlston to-morrow. Still, if you wish me, I will go," Ethel said, fearing Ada would think her rude.

"Oh, yes, please do; mamma is so anxious to see you. Her expectations are raised very high, for I have never had a friend before; and mamma says she is quite curious to see any one I can love." "You make me nervous," began Ethel.

"Nonsense, Ethel! no one could be disappointed

with you.

But now about these blankets? I had better get in a stock, and you send the poor people up to Thurlston for them."

“Perhaps it would be the best way.”

“What a dreadful thing, to think of those poor creatures living on three shillings a-week! I had an impression, that when the parish allowed anything they always had enough to live on quite comfortably.”

“Oh, no; that could not be. It is only a sort of assistance to them, you know. Sometimes people have not quite so much as Hannah.”

"How dreadful! They must almost starve. But still, as they can do nothing, they ought to be better supported, I am sure."

“Dear Ada, we must not presume to interfere in parish matters. One thing I must say, however: the overseers are, with few exceptions, the hardest and most unfeeling set of men. Many instances of their harsh treatment have come under my observation. I have sometimes intreated them to inquire into cases of distress, which it was evidently their duty to do. I did not meet with personal abuse myself, but the poor people have. There is this to be said of them; many would impose on them if they could, which makes them suspicious of every one, and often the most deserving come in for much unjust accusation. I have heard it said, that if you were to appoint the most kind-hearted man as overseer, he would quickly become one of the hardest, on account of the bad characters he has to deal with."

"But a Christian would not," replied Ada.

"No. They would remember the injunction, ‘Be ye also merciful, even as your Father also is merciful.' But, speaking on the subject of living on a little, there was a most affecting instance came under my notice

a young woman who, I know, lived on

ten pence for a fortnight!"

Ada started in horror.

"It is true, or I should not have named it."

"But how could she? I cannot conceive such a thing."

I think she had two or three bread-cakes (such as you saw in Betty Jackson's window) during the week, and a mug of coffee now and then, which can be procured from places in the town, where they make it for the mill-people. God alone knows how this kept her alive. She worked all the time in the mill besides. She had a father and mother, who were in a dreadful state of need, and two brothers; one was half-witted, the other on his death-bed. This young man was her favourite brother, and for his sake she underwent all this privation. He had expressed a craving desire for some luxury which it was not in their power to procure for him, so the poor girl saved her money to purchase it. She would not have been obliged to endure so much, as the wages, though low, were not worse than they have sometimes been before, but she worked at a mill at a considerable distance from home, and was compelled to lodge near it, and this, and paying for washing and helping her parents, reduced her earnings to a very small sum."

"I call that an heroic girl. And I say, if ever the blessing of God descended upon a noble, generous heart, it will on that poor creature's," exclaimed Ada, warmly.

"It is indeed an affecting instance, and really made me cry when I heard of it,” replied Ethel. "And what became of her ?"

"Better times have come to the family since the

* A fact.

brother died. The father has work, and the other brother does something, and kind friends have been raised up who give them many little helps, such as tea-leaves, scraps of bread left from dinner, broken meat, &c.-things not always made useful by careless servants, but invaluable to the poor."

"I wonder what is done with ours? Why, the bread crumbled at table alone would keep a person; and as for tea, it really is wasted. Herbert will have it so very strong, that there must be a great deal that would boil over again with water added. I never thought of these things. You must tell me of some one who is in need, and I will order them to be saved for them."

"Oh, thank you, Ada! that is very kind of

you!"

"I wish you would do me a favour, Ethel."
"I will if I can, with pleasure."

"I want you to ask Herbert to have something done for these poor people. He is so generous when really interested, and he would do much if you would

ask him."

66

Indeed, Ada, I think you would be a much better advocate. I fear Mr. Raymond would think my interference an unwarrantable impertinence. Besides, dear, you really are the proper person."

No, I am not ! Herbert would do more for you than me. I dare say, if I asked him, he would give me ten or twenty pounds, and tell me to do what I pleased with it; but I want him to be interested in these poor people."

"Then I certainly think you would interest him more than I should."

as

"Ada

"Sisters cannot do so much good as stopped, and blushed violently, fearing she had gone