dependent position; yet she loved her cousin as well as she had ever done, would as readily have sacrificed her own wishes to oblige him, and was as anxious as ever for his welfare. How was this? The explanation was simple. Gratitude and obedience were the governing principles of Susan's life; her education had been solid and useful, and her heart rather than her imagination cultivated. Accustomed to look up to her aunt as to a mother and guide, she thought not of questioning her wishes or analyzing her own feelings; ; nor was it until rendered free, by her cousin forming another attachment, that she ever really reflected on her position, and came to wonder how it was she felt so little regret at the change in it, and so little sympathy with her aunt's lamentations over disappointed hopes. And there was another subject on which her aunt had latterly dwelt, which occupied a corner in Susan's mind-the marked attention, the evident regard of Mr. Montgomery. This was recurred to with pleasure, for she esteemed him highly; she pitied his lonely situation, and admired his polished and agreeable manners. But, although Susan was by no means an imaginative or romantic young lady, and had set up in her mind no ideal of impossible perfection, she did not exactly feel as if she could like Mr. Montgomery for a husband, or bestow upon him that exclusive preference which ought to be felt for such a relation. Therefore had she withdrawn to a distance; and therefore now did she avoid all private conversations, and make her stay as short as possible.

But short as had been her visit, it had not been without its effects. Matilda, freed from the example of her sister, awakened to something like thought and reality by the excitement of the nuptials, and acted upon by Susan's example and precepts, underwent some slight change, and began to take a little interest in her father's comforts and the government of the house; and his commendations and thanks incited her to fresh exertions; for to her each endeavour was a positive exertion-each moment snatched from her engrossing novels a period of self-denial. It is not fair to value actions without taking into account the disposition and habits of those by whom they are performed; for what in one person is an every day custom, may in another be an instance of great self-control; indeed, with our limited means of perception, we cannot and ought not to judge each other, or presume to condemn this or praise that excepting in a charitable spirit. We see the actions, it is true; but God alone can read the heart and appreciate its strength or weakness, its rectitude or perversion. After a month spent in all the pleasures Paris could afford, during which honeymoon the bride and bridegroom had winged their way from flower to flower, extracting from each the honey of gaiety and enjoyment, they returned home to plunge into the giddy vortex of dissipation; and poor Matilda, whose good resolutions were but as the seed sown among thorns, was soon drawn into its eddies, and all her transient reformation swallowed up therein,

A marriage is considered as an apology for unnecessary expenses, follies, and dissipations. First comes the trousseau, then the déjeuner, then the wedding trip, then the " at home," and return of the visits; then the parties innumerable, and the necessary returns of these ; each involving a needless expenditure, which often makes a serious hole in the income of the first, if not of the second and third years of wedded life, and paves the way for debts and involvements which exercise a pernicious influence over a long period. This is another sacrifice at the altar of the deity Custom-an offering in many cases as blind and idolatrous as ever was made by the heathens of old.

The partners in the firm, of which Charles Stephenson was the junior, remonstrated with him on his extravagances; and one who had been his father's friend spoke most kindly and with much feeling, and made a transient impression on the mind of the young man. But it was like writing on sand; the first wavelet of inclination and of the influence of the lovely bride obliterated every trace of it, and they sprang onwards together in their career of pleasure, heedless of everything but the gratification of the moment.

Again was Charles admonished by his seniors, and again was their advice disregarded, their experience scoffed at. How strange that human nature will not learn by the experience of others, but persists in buying its own, and too often at a fearful price!

The third rebuke came, and with it the resolution of the other partners to pay to him the value of his share, and buy him out; they could not peril the interests of the firm thus.

"What does it matter!" exclaimed the thoughtless Julia.

"What indeed!" echoed her husband, although in his heart he was severely mortified at being thus cast off by the oldest friends of his family. "It will be easy enough to find an equally good investment for the money."

66

Yes, and how many splendid fortunes are made now-a-days by lucky speculations. Why, there's the Bartons were nothing but peddling shopkeepers in a little provincial town, and now see what style they live in, with their town and country houses, and carriages and servants. They could not have had one quarter the amount of capital to start with that you have, dear. Never shake your head so solemnly, Pa! You'll see that all will turn out for the best."

But Mr. Montgomery could not feel so sanguine, and strongly urged them to place the money in the bank until some good use could be found for it.

"What need to take all that trouble for only a few days, or at most weeks?" observed Julia.

“Well, I think it unnecessary myself!" was her husband's remark. "It is safe enough here."

"Suppose there should be a fire, or the house should be broken into?" argued the father, in what Julia scornfully designated his croaking tone. Besides, when the money is so handy you will be tempted to spend more."

"Now really, Sir, this is treating us too much like children!" exclaimed Charles.

Mr. Montgomery had not sufficient firmness to stand his ground, good and tenable as he knew it to be, and with a few vague warnings which did more harm than good, he left the thoughtless couple to dress for a ball to which they were going, and devoted the next few days to a diligent inquiry after some eligible investment. His researches were crowned with success; an undeniably advantageous opening of fered itself, and he hurried to their residence to point it out to Charles.

They were not up, and when they did make their tardy appearance, Julia replied to his gentle remonstrance by the remark that now her husband was no longer fettered to the drudgery of business, she saw no reason why he should get up as early as a milkman.

His mission was soon communicated. "What a pity I did not hear of it sooner!" observed Charles. "Yesterday I consented to enter into a speculation in which Barton has sunk a large sum; he is a knowing one, so it is safe enough."

"And is better than my father's proposal, for it does not chain you to business, love, and to petty gains; but will, if successful, realize a handsome fortune without trouble," said Julia, as she adjusted her pretty morning cap in the glass.

"If it is successful!" echoed Mr. Montgomery, with a sigh.

Really now, Pa, I wish you would leave off that melancholy air and tone! You will become a perfect hypochondriac soon, if you go on so. I wonder that Matilda can muster a smile, living under the influence of such a gloomy atmosphere. How do you like this peignoir, Matty? Charles chose the ribbons; he thinks this colour so becoming to me. Come up stairs; I have such a love of a bonnet to show you, a paille d'Italie, trimmed with lace and roses."

"Why it was only last week you bought that sweet pink crape chapeau, Ju! What can you want with another?"

"I did not absolutely want it, but it was so elegant and becoming."

"You must reform though, Julia!" observed her husband; "your bills are outrageous."

"Reform your milliner's bills,' eh! Is that what you would say? Now confess that you are never better pleased than when I am the best dressed as well as the best looking woman in company."

Charles had not yet learned to resist the spell of his wife's beauty, and a smile and kiss were his reply, the latter of which was received with an injunction not to disarrange her cap.

How many changes may occur in the space of twelve fleeting months! how much of sorrow or joy may be felt! how many loved faces may have departed from the social circle to that land whence no traveller returns! We will pass over a year, and again take up the thread of our

narrative.

A lady, attired with quaker-like simplicity, în

deep mourning, was attracting the attention of sundry dirty ragged urchins who were playing in one of the narrow pestiferous courts which are to be found in some of those purlieus of the gigantic metropolis, devoted to poverty, misery, and too often crime. It was seldom that any respectably dressed persons found their way even into the low street from which this cul-desac opened; and with gaping mouths and wondering eyes they gazed upon the rare apparition, who quietly pursued her way to the very last house in the row. For a moment she paused, and looked up at the dilapidated edifice with its windows patched with paper and rags, and its dark melancholy aspect. A girl of some ten years old, squalid and dirty, with hair like a door mat, sat on the step nursing a baby that bore a closer resemblance to a ragman's doll than to aught human; the girl was singing to it, not with the clear cheerful voice of childhood, but in a husky treble, yet not totally devoid of melody; and it was a simple hymn she sang, which sounded strangely amid the boisterous shouts of the other children, and the deep bass of a quarrel between two coal-heavers.

"By your leaf, marm!" exclaimed one of these grimy fellows, roughly pushing past the lady, and entering the dark filthy passage. "Is mother at home, Nance? Do ye hear me, wench! cease that howling and answer your father. Is that the duty they teaches at the Sunday schools!"

"Mother's out a washing, and won't be home afore eight."

The man turned off with an oath.

"Is there a person of the name of Stevens lodging here, my good girl?" inquired the lady. "Yes, ma'am, in the three pair back."

The stranger passed on, and the girl resumed her chaunt. Up that broken staircase, with its damp discoloured walls, and its steps soft with the accumulated filth of years; past chambers reeking with every unpleasant smell, and from the ill-closed doors of which issued angry tones, complaints, moans, or sobs, she wended her way, stumbling often during the dark ascent; for although it was noon, and in the streets and squares a bright sun was shining, gladdening the heart with its beams, here was a dusky twilight fitted to hide the misery of the place. The door of the apartment to which she had been directed stood ajar; the lock had long ago been wrenched off and sold by some needy occupant; a low wooden chair with the back half gone, a box which might do duty for table or seat, and an indistinct dark mass in the corner which probably was the bed, were all the visitor could at first descry; but as she moved, so as to obtain a better view of the interior, she perceived a form crouched on the floor, and as it were doubled over something which lay in its lap. She knocked to give notice of her presence, but the sound was unheeded; she entered and spoke; what she said was in a choking voice, unintelligible; indeed she scarcely knew what she would have uttered; but had it been the sound of a trumpet it could not have acted more

electrically upon the being at her feet. The woman sprang up, gazed wildly upon her, then placing the child, over which she had been cowering, in her visitor's arms, cried in a wild shrilly tone, "Save my boy, Susan! he is perishing with cold and hunger!" and sunk helpless on the floor.

For a few seconds Susan wept, then brushing away her tears prepared to act. Quickly she sped down the stairs, and finding the girl still in her old place, despatched her to summon the woman she would find in a coach at the end of the passage.

The girl executed her errand, and then proved a most efficient auxiliary in getting a fire, warming some water in a tin shaving-pot, and fetching something to make food for the baby; her own nursling meanwhile crawled about below stairs, got into mischief, and squalled with such hearty good-will as to prove that its lungs were as yet unaffected by the foul vapours around.

When Mrs. Stevens recovered her senses her child was lying on the visitor's lap, stretching out its little limbs to the warmth, and imbibing some food; an elderly woman stood by her side holding in her hand the glass from which she had been administering to her hot brandy and water. She raised herself on one elbow, and putting back the dishevelled tresses of her hair from her brow, gazed doubtingly and wildly around. Her visitor smiled, but there were tears on her cheek.

"I do not dream then! It is Susan come to save my child!" she exclaimed.

"And you too, I hope, dearest Julia!"

We left Charles in the possession of every comfort, and exulting in the idea of having discovered a short road to fortune. Nor was he the only one thus sanguine; even Mr. Montgomery was deluded by the glittering bait, and whirled with the rest into the vortex of ruin. The bubble--for such it was-burst; the more wary speculators had withdrawn in time from the falling ruin, but Charles Stephenson and his father-in-law, with many other novices, saw their property vanish as a dream from before their eyes, and found themselves reduced to beggary. It is true that Mr. Montgomery had still his official situation, but three months must elapse before another amount of salary would become due, and meanwhile how were they to live; and above all, how were Charles's debts to be paid?

The first effects of this misfortune fell on Julia. The shock of this sudden destruction of all her bright visions of the future brought on a premature confinement, and a delicate babe was added to the number of the sufferers.

The up-hill of life is almost always a steep, laborious journey, over which the traveller can only proceed at a foot's pace; but the downward path is as rapid a transit as that of the Russian ice-hill, and every stranger stands aside that he may not impede the trajet, while friends too often coolly look on, and speculate on the conduct of those thus hurled down from among them, and this generally in a very opposite spirit to that charity which "thinketh no evil.”

There are two kinds of poverty: that of the poor-those born and bred among its trials, its miseries, and deprivations-and that of the middle classes, when reduced by misfortune or folly.

"Yes, we were starving; he could not bear to hear the feeble moans of our child-to look upon me-to endure the pangs of hunger himself. He rushed out yesterday; I would have followed him, but my weary limbs refused to bear me quickly enough; and the cold air seemed to augment the sufferings of the poor babe. I returned, and sat down here to await him; and I think I must have slept, for nothing is clear to me afterwards."

Susan endeavoured to sooth the wife's anxiety, although her own heart misgave her. She had come to take them from that wretched abode, and wished to do so; but Julia would not quit it without her husband; no representations or persuasions could induce her to move; she would await his return, and herself be the herald of good news. And her friend, finding her so determined, had no resource but to make that poor place as comfortable as circumstances would admit; and then leaving the elderly woman behind to minister to the feeble mother and child, she set off to her lawyer's to take his advice as to the best means of finding and benefiting her cousin. As she passed the housedoor, the child gave a loud coo of delight as it groped in its sister's lap for the bright crown piece the lady dropped there.

are used to it and to all its contingencies; but to the latter, to the delicately nurtured in body, the refined in manners, the educated, it is a martyrdom: not alone the actual want, but the violent contrasts, the revolting scenes, the debasing habits, the state in which man is but little removed from brutes-these force the iron into the soul, and destroy every energy.

Bitter indeed to Charles was the cup from which he had to drink; his early life surrounded by every comfort, guarded from every annoyance, followed by indulgence in all the luxuries and pleasures money or credit could purchase, had enervated his mind, and fruitless repinings occupied the time which should have been spent in action; while false pride prevented him from seeking those who might have saved or at least assisted him; lower and lower he sank, dragging down his wife with him, until they reached that point of misery at which we have found them. But that fate which paralyzed his energies seemed to arouse those of his wife. It was the vain, frivolous Julia who alone had struggled, who alone had endeavoured to earn; who strove to awaken him from his lethargy, and incite him to action; she bore his reproaches, she wept over the stings of her own conscience; but she struggled on for her child's sake, for the sake of that little helpless being who at the commencement of their misery had come into

this world to suffer for the sins of its parents; its innocence seemed to purify her heart, to awaken in it natural and womanly feelings, to banish that demon, Self, and to lead her to God. | The rock had been struck, and the waters gushed forth, becoming purer and purer as they flowed on; humility, patience, industry, and self-denial, were among the fountains thus opened by the hand of adversity and the holy spirit of maternal affection.

And she had much to bear! Charles hid himself in their lodgings, shrinking from contact with the new world around them, and from communication with that from which he had fallen; besides, his debts made it dangerous to his liberty to be seen abroad; therefore the once fastidious Julia must brave the annoyances alone: she must strive to earn, must cook their scanty morsel of food, wash their remnants of clothes, do everything for her child, and soothe the peevishness and bear the reproaches of her husband. How different all this from her former life! And yet it is nothing unusual. Could we, Asmodeus-like, peep into the secrets of houses and families, we should see as great changes as these worked in hundreds of our sex.

The moody fretfulness of Charles at length | gave way to depression, then to despair, and under the influence of this latter feeling he had rushed from his garret with a vague sense of finding some kind of relief.

Susan Adams had returned to her old friend immediately after the wedding, to resume her post of companion. The lady was ordered abroad, and with her went Susan, who tended the invalid with a daughter's care; soothed her last moments; accompanied her corpse back to England; and then, to her astonishment, found that she was heiress to the wealth of her departed friend.

To seek her cousin and friends was her first task. For some time past she had been rather startled at receiving no letters from them; but Charles was always a bad correspondent, and foreign posts were so very uncertain. On her arrival at the house, the home which had sheltered her infancy, and been the scene of so many happy hours, what was her astonishment to find it "To Let," and that it evidently had been vacant some time. From a neighbouring shop the information came that "the family had been sold up and run away." "The Montgomerys too were gone, and at the father's office she heard that he was ill and not expected to live, and obtained an address where she found him a mere shadow of himself, and tended by a slovenly girl, in whom it was difficult to recognize Matilda, as she hastily concealed a ragged-looking, well-thumbed book, which she had been reading, and rubbing two tears from her eyes with her dirty hand, set a very dusty chair for her guest. Poor Matilda had not real sorrows enough but she must indulge in the fictitious ones created by the "thrilling works" of a penny circulating library.

From the Montgomerys Susan obtained some slight clue, which she diligently followed out

until she discovered Julia as we have described.

Charles wandered from his wretched home aimless, hopeless, with the vague sense of seeking some means of crushing the misery which was gnawing at his heart, and escaping from the sound of his infant's feeble wail and the sight of its mother's silent anguish. After hours of wandering he stood upon one of the bridges just as night was closing in. A ceaseless stream of people was passing over it, each one pursuing his own objects; few, if any, wasting a moment's thought on the concerns of the fellowbeings they brushed past; the gas-lights shone out cheerily, the horses pranced or stumbled; coaches, omnibuses, and carts rattled; and every now and then came up the sound of music or the hum of voices, as some steam-boat with its living freight passed under one of the arches. Charles felt no interest in anything around him but the dark water, which, as it flowed silently on, seemed to soothe him.

"Release me, Sir, and mind your own business!" was the reply, muttered in a fierce tone. Good God! do my ears deceive me? Can it be Charles Stephenson!" exclaimed the stranger.

"Barton! Leave me. your advice began!"

Let me finish what

"Not so! Come with me. Here take my arm; we shall have a regular mob in a minute. Get away with you, you young rascals, cannot two gentlemen stop to talk but you must look on!"

"I say, Bill, look at that gemman; why the All hot' man's got a better coat on his back!"

The sequel is soon told. Barton, who was really a good-hearted fellow, assisted our hero to regain a respectable path of life, which was the more easily accomplished as Susan Adams's solicitor had orders to pay all just debts. The lesson had been a severe one, but it was not lost on any of the parties; the furnace of adversity purified them from many follies, taught them much that was good, and paved the way for still more.

Even returning prosperity brought with it none of its former temptations; Charles and his wife were altered beings; their very attachment was no longer the same; it was founded on a calmer, firmer basis than mere meretricious attractions and similarity of pursuit; self had ceased to be the idol they worshipped.

Mr. Montgomery recovered his health and resumed his duties; and Matilda, once more under the influence of her better angel, resolved to reform, and to a certain extent acted up to her resolution. We are but fallible mortals at best.

Susan never married; she was independent, she was useful; she had the means and will to benefit her needy fellow-creatures, and moreovet

In the glad mazes of the merry dance
All joyous and all lovely things appear;
Bright eyes of woman, and the softer glance
Of high-born youth and graceful cavalier;

.

hear.

There, in the lamplight fair, half quenched and shy,
Scarce may it glimmer on the glittering wall,
But tremblingly and faint its beams all quivering fall.