its bars of rest; but when we silence the duct. Religion is convinced that time and babble of the superstitions and rebuke the force are not the kernel of existence. We loud vulgarities wherein the Highest is mest search beyond these if we would be degraded in the brawls of the market. righteous. That open secret," place and the wrangle of politics, let us Goethe, with his wonderful insight, has not say that God is withdrawn from life termed it, that divine despair that comes and knowledge. "A time may come,” it into men's hearts because they feel dimly is said, “when the name of God will be I know not what of austere and tender, of once more spoken." If it come because sacred and beautiful, that would intoxicate the heart is full and love shamefaced ; if them could they but attain to it, that is the it be the silence of a sacred affection, I source of religion — make bold to prophesy that in many a more beautiful way it will express what it Thou art the wine whose drunkenness is all feels. The most solemn worship of the We can desire, O Love, and happy souls, Church is in silence; in a whisper are the Ere from thy vine the leaves of autumn fall,

Catch thee, and feed from their o'ertlowing consecrating words pronounced, and the

bowls music comes to a pause. Music itself, Thousands that thirst for thy ambrosial dew. the least inadequate expression of the spirit in a world of phenomena, cares noth. Such men lament over the blindness of ing for speech ; its foods of harmony are their fellows to whom the veil of sense is poured upon the air, and the spirit, with not a drop-scene hiding the stage, but the out words, can interpret them. Surely play itself. To rouse them from the the new creed, struggling to get itself dream of matter is to give them religion; expressed, means only this: that our and every gospel opens with the trumpet. thoughts are larger than our words, and call of the Baptist, Meravoēlme, “ Repent, that the best we know of God exceeds the put away delusions, consider the world of formal sentences we frame. God is not appearances in the light of being." This, the unknowable; he is the ineffable. If too, is the necessary asceticism of reli. a fresh rhythm is to be added to our lives, gions. If their first word is repent, their in this way let us endeavor to find it, by second is renounce; or, in milder speech, dwelling on the life within that stays our use but do not abuse. A stern evangel, life, the spirit that abides in cordis apice, which we mortals are far from welcoming; where finite and infinite mingle.

but no man can mistake its authority. All What, now, of the “ascendancy of religions, however disguised in pomp and science,” and the “scientific basis of reli: secular greatness, preach the cross.

But gion”? Can we admit them? Yes, I the cross tells us that joy and sorrow, in answer, if phenomena be their own expla. this world, are nothing. It is the symbol nation ; no, if, in the striking language of of that conviction, which, did it not lead Kant, the ground of experience sinks un- us into a "sphere of dazzling light,” would der us when we venture our weight on it. be pessimism; for it asserts that the The supreme method is that whereon sci. world of sense never did, and never will, entific methods depend for their validity; bring happiness to a single soul of man. and the supreme science is metaphysics. But though science, if it mistake its The rank of the sciences is that of the function, becomes absolutely false, in ithierarchy of being. The science of en. self it has a relative and unshaken validity. ergy must take its postulates from the Were religion to forget this, it would fall higher science which interprets the laws into superstition. Asceticism does not of energy by showing whence it is de- deny that a harmony was intended be. rived, what design it subserves, what that tween the seen and the unseen; it de. power is which controls and guides it yet mands a sacrifice only that we may be

If Mr. Harrison affirms enabled im Ganzen, Guten, Schönen; that physical science has the supreme fest zu leben.As the conservation of truth in its keeping, be affirms that energy does not overthrow but enlarge thoughts may be weighed in a cheese. our conception of miracles, so do the con. monger's scales and volition purchased quests of science bring with them a higher by the yard.

asceticism inspired by sympathy with the Nor is phenomenal science the “basis pain of the world, and intent on relieving of religion.” The religions of the world it. So many things are out of joint; there have, in every case, been established by is such need to widen tlie skirts of light. men to whom the nothingness, the vanity We should deny ourselves that we may and fleeting show of scientific realities, not be inhuman; and our searching into was the one certain truth and rule of con- | high and low should teach us that man is


is ever unseen.

saved and enlightened only by man. the curtained opening, began to play, and Here a fresh world of evolution and causal- amused himself for a while in an agreeably ity breaks on our view; it is the realm of discursive fashion. But after a time he heroes and hero-worship and redeeming felt that he was not alone. The convichuman fellowship; for "the true Shekinah tion stole upon hin gradually, though, as is man." But with the revelation of God far as he knew, there had been no sound in man Christianity begins; and when we in the further room, and he had previously have distinguished between the light and believed that everybody was out. He the medium that refracts it, we may find glanced over his shoulder more than once, in the Christian records that glory of the but saw nothing. Word incarnate which has dwelt as in a “Shall I go and look ?” he asked him. tabernacle amongst us, and in whose pres- self. “ But it may be somebody I don't ence the truths of sense and science melt know, and don't want to know. Suppose into infinite harmonies.

it should be a housemaid come to be hired, WILLIAM BARRY, D.D. and waiting till Mrs. Wilton comes in.

What should I say to the housemaid ? Or, by the way, the parson said something about Easter offerings yesterday, perhaps

this is the clerk or somebody come for From Macmillan's Magazine, them. Perhaps if I go in he'll ask me for MITCHELHURST PLACE.

an Easter offering. I think I won't risk “ Que voulez-vous ? Hélas! notre mère Nature,

it. Shall I go into the garden again ?" Comme toute autre mère, a ses enfants gâtés,

While he debated the question, he went Et pour les malvenus elle est avare et dure!"

on playing, feeling that the music justified CHAPTER XVI.

an apparent unconsciousness of the in

visible companionship. The sunshine A PERPLEXING REFLECTION

lighted up the reddish golden tint of his THE April sun was shining into two hair and moustache, and the warm flesh pleasant sitting rooms, only divided by a colors of his face. Presently his wanderpartially drawn curtain. Their long win. ing fingers slackened on the keys, and dows opened on a wide gravel walk. Be- then after a momentary pause of recollecyond this lay a garden, bright with the tion he struck the first notes of a simple airy, leafless charm of spring. The grass air, and played it, with his head thrown was as yet, the borders brown back and a smile on his lips. earth, but there were lines and patches of Near him an old-fashioned mirror hung, gay spring flowers, and a blithe activity a little slanted, on the wall, and as bis of birds, while the white clouds floated roving eyes fell on it, a beardless, sharply far away in the breezy sky.

cut face appeared in its shadows, motion. Adrian Scarlett, who was a guest in the less and pale, gazing out of the beavy house, came slowly sauntering along one frame with a singular look of eagerness. of the sunshiny paths, between the yellow Adrian started, but his surprise was so daffodils, with eyes intent on a handful of quickly mastered that it was hardly pero printed leaves. Now and again he stopped ceptible, and he continued as if nothing short, trying a different reading of a line, had happened, apparently suffering his or twisting his little pointed beard with glances to wander as before, though in white fingers, while he questioned some reality he watched the dark eyes and suldoubtful harmony of syllables. Once he len brows bent on him from the wall. took a pencil from his pocket, and with The face, appearing so picturesquely, inindignant amusement marked a misprint. terested him, and after a moment the After each of these pauses he resumed interest deepened. As he had before be. his dreamy progress, unconscious of any come gradually conscious of the man's wider horizon than the margin of his page. presence, so now did a certainty steal

Presently his loitering walk brought over him that he was somehow familiar him to one of the tall, shining windows, with the features in the mirror. and thrusting the little bundle of proofs The stranger was evidently standing into his pocket, he unfastened it and where he might see and not be seen, and siepped in. He found the room unten- he leaned on a high-backed chair so that anted, except by two or three fies, which he was partially hidden. buzzed in ihe sunny panes as if sum- 6. Who the deuce is he? and where have mer time had come. A piano stood open, I seen him? and what does he want with some music lying on it, and the here?” said Scarlett to himself, continu. young man sat down with his back to ling to play the tune which had evoked the

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apparition. “He doesn't look as if he idea that your memory is better than went round for Easter offerings. Can't mine.” want to tune the piano, or why didn't he The other was obviously taken by sure begin before I came in? Hope he isn't prise. an escaped lunatic - there's something “No,” he said, drawing back and frown. queer and fixed about his eyes; perhaps ing. “No- in fact I'm sure we haven't I had better soothe him with a softer met – at least not to my knowledge. My strain. By Jove! I have seen hiin some- name is Harding.” where, and uncommonly good-looking he Scarlett owned that the name conveyed is, too! How can I have forgotten him ? nothing to his mind, but when in return He isn't the sort of man to forget. He he mentioned his own, he was certain that doesn't look quite modern, somehow, with he caught a flash of recognition in the his full, dark hair, and his beardless face; other's eyes. “He expected that,” he or, rather, I feel as if he were not quite soliloquized, as he picked up his paper modern — but why? "

again. “Here is a mystery! Deuce take Adrian glided into the accompaniment the fellow — why did he stare at me so ? to an old song, and sang a quaint verse or He isn't as handsome as I thought he was two softly to himself. The face in the in the glass – he's ill-tempered and awk. mirror relaxed a little. After a moment ward; it isn't a pleasant face, though of the man straightened himself, drew back, course the features are good He might and vanished. Adrian finished his song, make a good picture — and, by Jove ! and then, in the silence that ensued, a that's what he was — a picture ! and I slight movement was audible, enough to didn't know him out of his frame! I wonwarrant his entering the further room, as der whether it's a chance resemblance, or if he had just suspected the presence of a whether visitor.

“ Were you ever at a place called MitchThe man of the mirror was sitting in an elhurst?"be asked abruptly. armchair, with a book in his hand. He The blood mounted to Harding's face. looked up a little hesitatingly and awk. “ Yes,” he said. wardly, as if he were doubtful whether to Then,” said Adrian," you must surely rise or not. Adrian hastened to apologize be some connection of the family at the for his musical performance.

old Place – the olid family at the old Place, “ I had no idea there was any one here,” I mean. I have made out the likeness he said. " I hope I didn't disturb you ?” that puzzled me. There is a picture

“ Not at all,” said the stranger, glancing there at the book he beld, and furtively revers- "I am connected with the family,” said ing it.

“ An enviable talent,” he added Harding, "on my mother's side. It iso't with an evident effort.

much to boast of “For one's self, perhaps,” answered “If you come to that,” Scarlett an. Scarlett. “ But I'm not sure it is desira. swered lightly, " what is ? But I'll conble in a next-door neighbor.”

fess – I dare say I ought to be ashamed He was still trying to identify his com- of myself — but I'll confess that I do care panion. The voice, uninusical and almost about such things. I don't want to boast, harsh, did not help him in the least, and, but I would rather my ancestors oddly enough, now that they were actually gentlemen, than that they were butchers face to face, he was less absolutely certain and bakers and — well, the candlestick that he ought to recognize the man. “ It makers might be decorative artists in their may be only a likeness to somebody I way, and so a trifle better." know,” he reflected. “ But to whom, then ? Harding scowled, but did not speak. And why does he look at me like that? “ You don't agree with me,'

» Adrian He seems to think he knows ine !!" went on, with his pleasant smile.

“ Well, “I hope you'll go on if you feel in- you can afford to scorn the pride of long clined,” said the stranger.

descent if you choose. And, mind you, Adrian shook his head.

though I prefer the gentleman, I dare say “Thank you, but I think I've made the tradesman night be more valuable to about noise enough for one morning.” the community at large!"

He took up the paper and skimmed a “ I hope so," said Harding with a sneer. column or two. Presently he looked from “My grandfather was a pork-butcher.” behind it, and their eyes met.

“Oh!” exclaimed Adrian blankly. “ I can't help thinking,” he said, “ that “You combine both, certainly!” He was we have met before somewhere, haven't decidedly taken aback by the announcc. we? I don't know where, but I have an ment, as the other had intended, but he


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recovered himself first. It was Harding “ Didn't you koow old Hayes was who looked sullen and ill at ease after the dead?" revelation into which he had been be. The young man drew a long breath. trayed, as if his grandfather had somehow “ No, I didn't !” recoiled upon him, and knocked him down. “ Died just a week before Christmas.

Young Scarlett felt that he could not The old house is shut up." get up and go away the moment the pork- Adrian was silent for a moment. butcher was introduced, though he half old fellow !” he said at last. " I'm very regretted that he had come from the piano sorry to hear it. And the house shut up to talk to his sulky desceadant.

- of course Miss Strange would go back you get your looks from your ancestors at to her people in Devonshire.” Reynold Mitchelhurst,” he said ; "it's quite won. looked at him silently. “I wonder who derful. I studied those portraits a good will take the old Place!” said Adrian. deal, and there's one on the right-hand "If I were rich " Their glances met side of the fireplace in the yellow drawing. once more, and he stopped short, and room, as they call it — do you know the strolled towards the window. house well?"

A castle in the air,” he said presently, “Yes, well enough. Yes, I know An- "I don't suppose I shall ever see Mitchel. thony Rothwell's picture.”

burst again, since the poor old gentleman It might be yours," said Adrian. is gone. But I shall always remember Reynold's only answer was a doubtful the place. Not for its beauty, precisely. “ Hin!”

I know when I went there first I was surA fine old house !” Scarlett remarked, prised that he should care to live in a as he rose from his chair. If his compan- corner of that great white pile. Some. ion intended to treat him to such curt, thing rather sepulchral about it. balf-hostile speeches, he would leave him ever notice it by moonlight?” alone, and ask Mrs. Wilton, or one of the Reynold Harding said yes, he had. girls, about him, later. He might satisfy “I recollect an almost startling effect his curiosity so, more pleasantly.

one night,” Scarlett continued. And But “ A fine old house!” Harding re. the avenue too — that queer avenue peated. “Yes, a fine, dreary, chilly, de. gnarled boughs, with thin foliage quiver. caying, melancholy old house." He leaned ing in the wind, and glimpses of summer back in his chair and looked up at Scar- sky shining through. I think if I were a lett. “ Did you ever see a more hopeless painter I would make a picture of those place in all your life?"

trees." “ Come! Not so bad as that !”

There was a picture of them, stripped “Well, it seems to me that there is no of their leaves, and wrestling with an hope about it,” Reynold persisted; "no October gale, before the eyes of the man hope at all. A ghastly nightmare of a to whom he spoke. They might be house. Why doesn't somebody pull it worth painting,” he said. “I suppose down?

they weren't worth cutting down. If they “ You must have seen it under unfavor. had been, I fancy there wouldn't be any able circumstances.”

avenue left." “Very likely. I was there last Octo. “I suppose not. Well, anyhow I'm ber. It might be better in the summer-glad it was spared. There's an individutime."

ality about the place — melancholy it may You stayed there?

be, perhaps dreary, as you say, but it isn't “ Yes, a few days."

commonplace, so it misses the worst “ Did they tell you I had been ?" dreariness of all.” He recurred to his Scarlett asked impulsively. “Did they first idea. “I wonder who will live there speak of me - Mr. Hayes, and — Miss now poor old Hayes is dead." Strange?”

“Rats,” said Reynold.

“ And perhaps The men looked at each other as the an old man and his wife, to take care of dame was spoken, Reynold's dark gaze it.” crossing the bright, grey-blue gleam of Scarlett stood, with a shadow on his Adrian's glance." They said something pleasant face. He had meant to go back of a Mr. Scarlett who had been there – io Mitchelhurst quite early in the summer, yes.

and he slipped a hand into his pocket, and “ And they were well, I hope ? " fingered the little bundle of printed leaves “ Well enough then."

which had played a part in his day-dream. “Then?” cried Adrian. “Then! Why, He had counted on a welcome from the what has happened sioce ?

white-haired old gentleman, whose whims

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and oddities he understood and did not the hot little gaslit stage, in their great dislike, and he had waited contentedly reconciliation scene, the scene that was enough till the time should come. In always followed by a burst of applause. fact, he had found plenty to do that win. Everybody had admired his very becoin. ter, what with Christmas visits and the ing dress, and Scarlett himself had been preparation of his poems for the press. rather proud of it. But now in a freak of As Adrian looked back, he realized that his vivid imagination, he pictured the it had been a very agreeable winter, and masquerading figure that he was, all that it bad slipped away very quickly. showy pretence, with a head full of cues The thought of Mitchelburst had been and inflated speeches, set down suddenly there through it all, but, to tell the truth, in the wintry loneliness of Mitchelhurst it had not been "very prominent. He Place, and passing along the corridors to would have spoken 10 Barbara in the au. the threshold of the dead man's room, to tumn, if he had been left to himself, yet see Barbara turn with startled eyes in the he had recognized the wisdom of the old midst of the shadows. God! bow pitiful man's prohibition, he had enjoyed the and incongruous was that frippery, as he pathos of that unspoken farewell, and the saw it in his fancy, brought thus into the sonnet which he touched and retouched presence of the last reality! with dainty grieving, and he had looked And Barbara, had she wondered at his forward, very happily, to the end of his silence during all these months ? Never probation. Barbara, who was certainly one word of regret for the old man who very young, was growing a little older had been kind to him! "I wouldn't have while he waltzed, and sang, and polished had it happen for anything !” he said to his rhymes, and made new friends wher- himself. What has she thought of me?ever he went. Adrian had too much hon. Harding, with eyelids slightly drooping, esty to pretend to himself that he had was watching him, and Scarleit suddenly been broken hearted in consequence of became aware of the fact. their separation. He had not even felt No, I suppose nobody is likely to take uneasy, for, without being boastful, he the old house,” he said hurriedly. “I had been very frankly and simply sure of used to think it must be dull for Miss the end of bis love-story. He knew Bar. Strange, shut up there with nobody but bara liked him.

her uncle." And now it seemed that his testy little “I should say it was.” white haired friend had gone out of the “ Well, Devonshire's a nice county, not great old house into a smaller dwelling that I know much of it. What part of place, and he had been reckoning on a Devonshire do the Stranges live in

do dead man's welcome. A welcome

to you know?" what? To the cold clay of Mitchelhurst “North Devon,” Reynold Harding anchurchyard ? The week before Christ. swered, and then added, half reluctantly,

Scarlett remembered that he had “Sandmoor, near Ilfracombe.” been very busy the week before Christ- “Ah, it isn't a part I know at all,” said mas, belping in some theatricals at a Adrian aloud, and to himself he repeated, couniry house. He had been called and “Sandmoor, near Ilfracombe.” cailed again, at the end of the perform- At that moment the door opened, and

And just then, at Mitchelhurst, one of the daughters of the house came the curtain had fallen forever on the little in. “Oh, Mr. Harding!” she exclaimed, part wbich Mr. Hayes had played, and advancing, and shaking hands in a quick, Barbara had looked on its black mystery. careless fashion. “ I'm afraid you've He bit his lip impatiently. There had been kept waiting a long while."

” been no harm in the theatricals, just the “It doesn't matter,'

» said Harding, usual joking and intimacy, among the standing very stifly. "Is Guy ready now, actors behind the scenes, and the usual | Miss Wilton ? love-making and embraces on the stage. “Yes, he's waiting in the hall. Bob Adrian's conscience was clear enough, got him away to the stables, and I didn't and yei the recollection of the girl who know he was there till just now; you played the heroine (painted and powdered know what those boys are when they get a little more than was absolutely neces. together. I thought Guy had better wait sary, for the mere pleasure of painting in the hall, for I'm afraid he's not as clean and powdering, as is the way with ama- as he might be.” teurs), came back to him with unpleasant“It doesn't matter," Harding replied distinctness. He could see her face, again. “He very seldom is.” close to his own, as he remembered it on " I did try to brush him," said the girl


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