Oswald Manse; OSWALD MANSE. OR, THE WANDERING STAR. I was tossed by the winds on a treacherous wave; Oh, Mercy! to wreck in the morning of days- Oh, no! for a STAR trembles out in the sky, EVENING SHADOWS AND EVENING LIGHT. THE prevalence of general Temperance customs and usages in the church where Oswald resided had a decided influence on him for good. He one evening said to his wife-"If we had started life here you would never have had the sorrow of being a drunkard's wife. Here I could have stood my ground, backed and cheered by the habits of thorough sobriety which everywhere prevail; and instead of my life having been a blank or blot it might have been a power for good. It is clear that only the phlegmatic can get through the whole of Scotch drinking soberly with perfect impunity." His wife consoled him by saying that at any rate his task was not difficult now. To this he replied that it was more difficult than she supposed; "for," said he, "first, there is the deep, burning desire for liquor still unquenched or removed; then there is the mental feebleness and moral debility my former habits have left as a legacy of sorrow; and besides I feel I have next to no power of close self-application to study;-in one word the drink has shorn me of my strength and blighted my glory, if not banished the Spirit of God for ever from my soul." With tears falling thick and fast he added-" I am sure that I am not very long for this world. I scarcely ever enjoy food, and when even relished the stomach seems unable to fulfil its mission; and those horrid shooting pains from the right breast to below the shoulder tell me that the region of the liver is out of sorts altogether." His wife tried to rally him, and told him that his occasional labours on the farm and horse exercise would no doubt soon restore him to health. He shook his head and replied-"It is kind of you, my dear Bella; but rely on it, you will soon have to walk the journey of life alone -at any rate without your husband. But our noble and good boys will be your protector and solace when I am taken away." He added, "If I had millions of gold and silver I would freely expend the whole if I could place you young, beautiful, and happy again in your father's house at Dalbreathe, and give you the opportunity of setting out in life afresh. Ah! for you it was a cursed day when you resolved to take me to your bosom for better or worse, for it has been all worse, until degraded and exiled you have had to flee with me to dwell in a distant land, far, far away from the hills and dales of our bonnie Scotland." His thoughts now seemed to dwell constantly on the certain approach of death, and he was anxious to write two or three addresses on the subject of the 133 bane of Great Britain; and to send one to the still surviving friends at Dalbreathe, and another for the use of the Temperance cause in general. This work engaged his earnest attention, and he threw all his soul into it. His appeals were very lucid and extremely searching and direct, and were a great relief to his own mind. His family were delighted with the healthy tone of spirit that now seemed to come over him, and thought if he could but dismiss his growing forebodings he would soon be himself again. A while after this he attended a meeting of neighbouring ministers and elders, when some twenty or more brethren were present. The hospitable table was well covered with every necessary to comfort, and some luxuries; but there was tea, and coffee, and lemonade, and bright cold waterbut no intoxicants of any kind. "There was a feast of reason and a flow of soul;" but it was reason calm and dignified, and soul under the influences of sobriety and grace. The conversation was intellectual, and all the proprieties and courtesies of life were regarded with religious exactness. And yet they were not stiff and ascetic, but warm, and imaginative, and lively. They separated, after hours of ecclesiastical business, calm and collected, respecting alike themselves and each other. Oswald got a lift in the right direction that evening. His gloom evidently now decreased; his face was bright and cheerful, and some of his public addresses savoured of his early eloquent discourses. He laboured extensively in the ministry, and became a general favourite with the good of all denominations. One evening he returned home very wet, having had to ride for miles through a drenching rain; though he immediately changed his dripping clothes and got into a warm bed, he was restless and feverish during the night. Next morning he was much worse, when a neighbouring physician was at once sent for. His long experience gave him every facility for doing all that could be done for the patient. At first he seemed pretty confident that by prompt measures the fever would be reduced; and he left saying that a few days he hoped would see the end of the attack. And so it did; but not the end terminating in life, but in death. On the morrow he found Oswald much worse, and so much beyond his fears that it was difficult to account for it. He said to Mrs. Oswald on leaving-" I cannot understand the little resistive energy my patient exhibits, and I really fear he is in danger of succumbing to the complaint; and if so he had better, while he has power to think, get all his affairs settled. Do not be alarmed," said the worthy man, "at what I say; for I hope yet we shall be able to bring him through-I mean by God's blessing. But his constitution seems to have no elastic force about it!" Next day a will was drawn up, which embraced all he desired in reference to worldly matters, which was duly signed and witnessed, and thus became a legal and valid document. On this being completed he said-" "Well, my earthly house is set in order, and I must look after the undying spiritual part of my being." He said "I know the way of salvation thoroughly. It is Christ-the one Saviour-the only Saviour-the Saviour for best and worst, and therefore for me." Oswald seemed now peaceful and resigned. The day following, his disease had greatly lowered his bodily strength, and his brain was evidently affected. His conversation was excited and incoherent. At times he laughed and uttered witty drolleries; and, what made the scene truly distressing, toasts and foolish drinking phrases now were often on his lips. He raised himself half upright in bed and said: "This won't do; come, let us have the decanter of 134 HEALTH: HOW TO SECURE AND RETAIN IT. real Glenlivet-a glass neat; or strong toddy! Come, quick! Why don't you fly at once! I cannot wait! I am sinking-I say quick!" and then he sank exhausted on his pillow. It is needless to harrow the feelings of the reader by a detail of these repeated outbursts of craving and crying aloud for drink. "What!" said he, "am I deserted? Will not one befriend a dying wretch? Not one glass to keep life in me! Cruel! cruel! heartless! Well, then, I must die! I feel I must. Whisky; angels; saints; devils-whisky, I say, quick! I am dying!" and pious for many miles round. And it was a Temperance funeral. No excited, silly maudlers followed; no reeling mourners. No; it was manifestly a sober as well as a solemn season. And now they found on the back of the will, written in pencil—“ I, John Oswald, a precocious child, talented youth, diligent student, popular preacher, idolized pastor, blessed in every relationship and path of life with power, usefulness, blessings, and immortality before me, but marred and almost damned by the use of cursed intoxicants, and at last saved by the skin of my teeth, through the sovereign mercy of God, while an exile in a distant but beloved land." Amidst those wild ravages there was the unspeakable satisfaction of knowing that they were the language of fever-dethroned reason and not of responsible consciousness. Before his death he had a day's calm interval-a lucid and clear sky for his setting sun. With a voice that could only just whisper in the ears of those around, he said, "What dreams I have had! Where have I been? I thought that demon drink had got possession of my brain again; but, thank God, it is not so. Well is it that the penalty I am called upon to pay is disease-a broken constitution-an early death-and that I am at least snatched as a brand from the burning. Yes," he said, "God's laws are just and equal, righteous and good. If men put fire into their bosoms it must burn; if they drink fire-waters they must destroy. But the better part, like the drifting passenger who has been wrecked and lost all his earthly goods, yet looks with joy to the shore with life preserved and safe, so to me an abundant entrance shall be administered, and I feel assured that through the infinite mercy of God I shall get safe to the better land." Calmly he conversed, consulted, counselled, and comforted those around him; and then he said, "I have one work to do as the dying priest of his hearth and home. Come near, Bella-close, closer still. My darling wife, now do you forgive me, really, truly, as God forgives for Christ's sake ?" With a flood of tears rolling on his dying cheek, she said, "Yes, yes! as I hope to be forgiven." "That will do," he said. "Now, may God bless you." Before his death he had a day's Health: How to Secure and Betain it. He then took his sons' hands, and those of his daughters, and said: "Now, hearken. The fiend of earth, the purveyor of hell, the foe of God, the curse of men, the kidnapper of souls, is intoxicating drink. Do you believe it? Speak, for I am dying!" They said audibly, with sobs and tears, "Yes, father, we do." "Will you abstain from, never taste, or handle, or buy, or sell, or give-I mean," said he, "as a beverage ?" "Yes," they all replied. "Will you love the temperance cause-labour to extend it-do what you can for poor drunkards ?" And they again said "Yes." "It is enough," said he. "What wait I for? No, I forgot-one word more. add to temperance godliness--real evangelical and spiritual godliness? Say quickly, my pulse lingers ;" and they again replied "Yes." "Well, now, one kiss each; the lips seem dry, and my sight is failing. Well, where are you? Hasten!" And the pledge was given and received; but the effort had been too much. With the last embrace and kiss the spirit had taken its flight, and all was now hushed by the silence of death. Will you Oswald's death had answered to his deep forebodings, and his last end was even as he had sur mised. Well, at eventide it was light. After the tempests of the day the night was calm. The sun set hopefully. It was not a gorgeous setting, but it was sufficiently bright; it was not a triumph, but an escape, at least, from the last blow of the soul's moral enemy. Yes, though he had often been overcome, yet in mercy and by grace he overcame at last. And now followed the solemn funeral obsequies, which were attended by large numbers of the good By S. B. LOUDON, Liverpool. 2.-FOOD (concluded). I HAVE dwelt thus long on the subject of food because Many people are always at a loss to know how indigestion may be cured, and, knowing no better, rush into the first apothecary's shop they see, to be dosed and drugged by the disciple of Esculapius. Now, I must again state that a change of diet-call it medical diet if you will-is what these people require and not pills. If they must have "pills" let them take "pills" of bread made from unbolted flour. Let them give up tea for a day or two, and take, like true Scotchmen, oatmeal porridge instead. And I have further to tell them that if they should continue this homely fare for the rest of their lives, they will not be ungrateful to me for recommending it! Bread made from unbolted flour, commonly called "brown bread," is much more wholesome than that made of fine flour, and the most obstinate case of constipation will yield to it. Ripe fruit of almost any kind will also have a similar effect on the bowels. Hardly any. body eats enough of ripe fruit, but a great many injure themselves very much by eating unripe fruitgooseberry fool to wit! The acids of fruits purify the blood and exercise a most salutary influence on the whole animal system. They cannot be dispensed with; and what a luxury they are! Strawberries and cream-why it is a dish fit for a prince. Baked apples, which may be had all the year round, are delicious, and I, for one, infinitely prefer them to any. thing else that can be put on the table. Apples are most wholesome; and if I have a single dyspeptic reader, I recommend him to eat them freely. Apple pie is a dish that hardly anybody will "turn up their nose" at, but the pastry had better not be made at all, or else be given to somebody whom the world CULPABLE INDIFFERENCE OF THE CHURCH.-WHEN CRIMSON CLOUDS. would not miss, and who might as well go to Kentucky and be shot as anything else! Then again, rhubarb, when in season, will be found most beneficial in constipation-in fact, it is an infallible cure. Coffee will, in many cases, aid digestion. I have known the best results to follow from the habitual drinking of coffee after dinner. At the same time it cannot be universally recommended, but I should be glad to see it take the place of those intoxicants which are so much in use, and which are only productive of evil. I think I have said enough to show that the diseases of the stomach can be remedied without recourse being had to drugs; and I put it to sensible men if it is not something worse than ridiculous to pour all manner of abominable drugs down their throats, when a much better effect can be produced by what may be called cathartic food? But no, they must have their "blue pill" and "black draught;" and there are some who are so wedded to these vile compounds, that they will neither give themselves any trouble to obviate the necessity for them, nor have recourse to what reason and common sense prescribe. Before concluding my remarks on this subject, perhaps I ought to add a word or two on the importance of avoiding all kinds of food with the nutritive property too highly condensed. In proportion as bulk is diminished and nutrition retained, in the same proportion will digestion become difficult. Those who are everlastingly eating bread and cakes made of very fine flour, will invariably suffer in this way, and for this very reason. In order to make food digestible, there must be a proper amount of bulk. Unbolted flour bread is infinitely more wholesome and digestible than that made from fine flour, because the bran increases the bulk, and causes the nutritive property to be less concentrated, while, at the same time, its effect on the intestinal canal is to stimulate and provoke to action. Sugar, honey, cream, &c., are most nutritious, but they are so condensed that if we were to eat much of either, we should soon become sick; but let them be eaten with other substances, and the quantity being increased, they neither clog the appetite nor impair digestion. Culpable Indifference of the Church. By the Rev. WM. CAINE, M.A., Manchester. It has for a long time painfully impressed itself on my mind, that the Christian Church in these countries is most culpably indifferent to the fearful miseries, both temporal and eternal, which are produced by the liquor-traffic existing amongst us. When we reflect that every week more than one thousand immortal souls of baptized and professing Christians—our countrymen and countrywomen-sink into everlasting perdition from the effects of this baneful traffic; and when we reflect on the value of even one of these undying souls, and its capability of enduring unending misery throughout eternity, it is calculated, I think, to make us shudder at the thought of not doing all that lies in our power to save even one soul of some poor brother or sister from endless woe. If the effects of this traffic were confined to the injury of the body, and the loss of property, and the diminution of earthly comfort and happiness, and did not extend to the immortal part of man-his soul-even then, it would be the duty of every good man to use all his influence to prevent such comparatively trivial evils. We are told in the Bible that "a righteous man regardeth the life of his beast," but, alas! the 135 majority of the teachers of religion in this country, who are, very many of them, good and pious men, have so little regard for the eternal life and happiness of the rational and immortal beings committed to their charge for guidance and instruction, that they will not for their sake deny themselves the use of intoxicating drinks, although, in innumerable instances, these drinks prevent them seeing any fruit of their labours. What is to be done to rouse those who are appointed watchmen in the Church to a sense of their great responsibility, as told us in the thirty-third chapter of the book of the prophet Ezekiel ? We are told by God in that chapter that, if the watchman does not perform his duty and give warning of the approaching danger, the blood of those destroyed through his carelessness will be required at his hand. How solemn are these words! Oh! that every Christian minister laid them to heart, and acted according to them in reference to the accursed soul-and-body-destroying traffic in poisoning drinks! But the ministers of religion will not see what their duty is in this matter till the Holy Spirit enlightens them. I would, therefore, with all humility, suggest to all earnest Christians who are Teetotalers, and especially to all ministers and teachers of religion who see the evils of the liquor traffic and discountenance it in every way, that they should form themselves into a society or union for private prayer for the attainment of the two things which are absolutely necessary to us in our efforts to destroy the liquor traffic in these countries. I would humbly suggest that a certain hour at certain intervals should be agreed upon by the members of the society or union I have proposed to be formed, at which they should simultaneously offer up earnest prayers to Almighty God that He would grant us these two requests, viz., that He would put it into the hearts of all ministers and teachers of religion to abstain from intoxicating drinks, and that they should not only become total abstainers themselves, but also have the honesty and the courage to inculcate on their hearers that it is their bounden duty, as professing belief in the writings of the Old and New Testaments, to abstain entirely from, and not to touch, those drinks which are causing thousands on thousands of their poor brothers and sisters, believers in the same Saviour in whom they themselves believe, to stumble and fall and sink into everlasting ruin. See Proverbs xxiii. 29-32, Habakkuk ii. 15, Amos vi. 6, Romans xiv. 21, 1 Corinthians viii. 13, and Jude 23. I commend my suggestion to the prayerful consideration of all earnest Teetotal Christians. When Crimson Clouds. WHEN crimson clouds have left the western sky, And all my thoughts are sky-ward led away; Who has the power the deep sea's wrath to stay; And full of joy I lisp His praises there, With every hope of bliss, above this world of care. Glenarm, June 28, 1863. 136 DIFFICULTIES IN THE PATH OF TEMPERANCE REFORMERS. Difficulties in the Path of Temperance pounds sterling to arrest those evils; and these large Reformers. By JAMES HAUGHTON, J.P. ON two recent occasions, the excellent and the benevolent Lord Carlisle gave utterance to some sentiments strangely at variance with the generally received impression that he is a man whose mind is filled with noble thoughts, and that from his lips should proceed none but noble utterances. On the first of these occasions to which I allude, at a dinner given by our Lord Mayor, on the 10th Nov., 1862, to celebrate the majority of the Prince of Wales, his Excellency spoke in such glowing words of the "generous wine cup," as were well calculated to allure and lead astray both the old and the young men by whom he was surrounded, and to keep alive in them their false estimate of the ruinous results of those drinking customs in which they were at the moment indulging; and in which a "silver-headed" man, as he designated himself, should be careful to repress indulgence, instead of exciting to excess by the use of glowing and unmeaning words; for to talk of the " generous wine cup" is unmeaning; and its sure effect, when coming from such a source, is, to cause a larger indulgence in that poison, alcohol, which has, for many generations past, produced untold misery in our country, without having imparted a single iota of good in return, to save it from the deserved anathema of God and man; and which is, even now, in this era of improved civilization, the great enemy to human happiness. The second similar public eulogy on alcoholic liquors, proceeding from the lips of the foremost man in Ireland, of one, around whom all men gather with a feeling of affectionate interest as he walks abroad among us,-was spoken on the 1st of July, when his Excellency was engaged in preparing for the citizens of Dublin, what we all hope may prove an unfailing and abundant supply of that healthful beverage which God liberally supplies to gladden His animate and inanimate creation-pure cold water. On the first day of July, when our popular Viceroy was surrounded by the Corporation of this city, in that valley which is intended to be, in all future time, the bounteous reservoir of that pure beverage which the thirsty all drink with delight, spoke again disparagingly of crystal water, by placing it beneath those "fire-waters" which are a ruin to the bodies and the souls of men; and which he again recommended as "the more generous beverages which are spread before you," but which are soon found to "bite like a serpent, and sting like an adder." Will Lord Carlisle, or any other man of intelligence and learning, tell us, in what consists the "generous" qualities of alcohol. It upsets the reasoning power of man, and reduces him below the level of the beasts of the field. Is this a generous quality? It turns the affectionate husband and the fond father, into a savage as ruthless as the hungry tiger. Is this another of its generous qualities? It seizes hold on many of the class represented by Lord Carlisle, and even Royalty itself is frequently grasped in its horrid fangs; and the toiling multitude are, in numberless instances, ruined and brutalized by this "generous beverage." It is the parent of most of the crime which defaces our civilization; it crowds our lunatic asylums with those hapless victims of its paralyzing influences, who are at once the objects of our pity and our fear. It fills the land with poverty and destitution, causing the annual expenditure of millions of sums of money are wasted in vain efforts to stem the flowing tide of misery which is its constant attendant. I am unable to detect in any of these results, or in the unnamed multitudinous miseries which follow on its train, any shadow even of a "generous" quality; and Lord Carlisle, in his public eulogies on this poison, has failed to point out to us any one blessing to humanity which accompanies it in its career of mischief, that compensates in the smallest measure for all the unspeakable degradation and ruin in creates. What is the meaning of this madness which impels the rich and the poor-the learned and the unlearned the patrician and the child of toil-to rush, day by day, into the arms of their unrelenting enemy? Can human reason devise no means of putting an end to this folly ? Science, which teaches us the laws of our being, pronounces our drinking usages inimical to these laws; experience in all ages and in all climes loudly proclaims that they are ever at war with man's happiness; and yet all classes unite in refusing to be guided by those dictates of wisdom, which tell us to put them away altogether, it being utterly vain and hopeless that men can use them in such moderation as to render them innocuous. There is not a man of sound intellect to be found who does not know that the way in which alcoholic liquors are generally used is mischievous, even among those who use them in what is called moderation; and that they are utterly ruinous to the health and the virtue of multitudes. There is a large and increasing minority in these kingdoms, favourable to the total abolition of our drinking usages; let these men and women be firm in their purpose and earnest in the promulgation of their opinions, and they must succeed, in the long run, in overcoming the difficulties which beset our path in this great reform, for it is a work in the success of which the happiness of our race is involved. Disease and pain, crime and misery, pauperism and destitution, have ever tracked the footsteps of the destroyer, alcohol; and such must ever be his gloomy body-guard, until man rises up in the full power of his noble lineage, and bids the demon begone for ever. And what is to prevent this noble determination, which would shed throughout all our borders the perennial sunshine of prosperity and happiness? Naught but a cowardly yielding to an insatiable appetite, and an unmanly acquiesence in social and public drinking habits, which our reason tells us are pernicious, and therefore to be avoided. Temperance reformers !-Retreat not one step from the high ground you have secured; your position is unassailable by any rational argument; it is firm as the foundations of eternal truth, it cannot be overthrown. Man's happiness is your noble aim, and God's own refulgence lights you on to victory. Dublin, Aug., 1863. A BEAUTIFUL IDEA.-In the mountains of the Tyrol hundreds of the women and children come out when it is bed time, and sing their national song until they hear their husbands, fathers, or brothers answer them from the hills on their return home. On the shores of the Adriatic, the wives of the fishermen come down about sunset and sing a melody. They sing the first verse and listen for some time; they then sing the second verse, and wait until they hear the answer from the fishermen, who are thus guided by the sounds to their own village. Many good people seem quite to forget that there is an idolatry of great names as well as of graven images. Rough Waters. CHAPTER XIV. TELLS OF ONE WHO WAS NOT WEARY IN WELL-DOING. THE way in which Mr. Catchwell got on the scent of Singleton was this-As soon as he returned to London, he went at once to Mr. Gilby's to announce his failure, which he did with the unfailing "never mind, sar, I'll nab him yet;" to which Mr. Gilby, much to his astonishment, said, "Well, I'm glad he's off, for I have heard this morning that his sister is dying— indeed, from this letter it appears they are all dying of hunger." And Mr. Gilby, hard, stern man as he was, shaded his eyes with the letter he held in his hand, for something very like a tear was there. "The title-deeds," he added, after a pause, " will give me some trouble; but I understand from Butt that the matter wont be so serious as I at first anticipated." Catchwell cared in reality very little about the forged cheque of a thousand pounds or the stolen title-deeds, but he cared a good deal about his own reputation, and felt very much annoyed that a reward of £100 had slipped through his fingers. "Would you let me see that letter, sar." He just glanced at the letter, and, taking up his hat, merely remarked, "I must be off, and you'll hear from me soon again." He kept watch for a couple of days in Elephant Row, and at last, when just going away in despair, he arrested young Singleton as we told in the last chapter. It was a terrible blow to Adelaide; she saw the corpse of a sister leave the door a few minutes ago, and before the hearse was quite out of her sight, her brother is dragged away to jail, guilty of forgery— an act for which a few years before he would have forfeited his life on the gallows. Though the blow was severe she felt equal to the emergency, and in an instant her resolution was taken; she would conceal the additional cause of sorrow from her wretched mother, and that very evening go and see Mrs. Letstieg. In all her late trials Mrs. Letstieg had been a veritable guardian angel, and in that direction now she saw help. Poor girl! in her ignorance of the world she did not know the full extent of the crime for which her brother had been arrested, she only thought of the source from which help had come so often, and she felt assured it would not fail her now. 'Tis well, when troubles come, to have a refuge, a sure and certain abiding place, where one may safely remain until the calamity be over-past, and next to our good and gracious God, a faithful friend is the best and surest retreat. Away she went to Mrs. Letstieg with the same hopeful heart that I have seen poor emigrants driven from their hearths, crowd our quays in expectation of getting that comfort and peace in a foreign land which was denied them in their own. In eager haste Adelaide Singleton went to 14, Russell Square. Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Letstieg was at home, so she waited for their return with an anxious beating heart. She had now a few minutes for reflection, and she was almost tempted to go away without seeing them. "What right have I," she thought, "to trouble them with my sorrows. Until the last week they have been perfect strangers to me. Perhaps they may think that I am now taking advantage of their kindness, and that, because they voluntarily helped us in our terrible difficulties, I now claim their assistance." These reflections forced themselves upon her and made her feel almost inclined to go away—but where would she go-her mother now lay griefstricken in the bed from which Amy, her own darling sister, had been carried to the grave a few hours ago-how could she tell Henry of this fresh sorrowpoor Henry upon whose face the mysterious shadow of death was fast creeping. She thought of one, but he was far away he had known them in happy days, and in her secret heart she kept his image cherished like some holy thing. Francis James Burcher had been the playmate of her childhood, and the little presents which he had given her had been treasured up with religious care. Four years ago he had been ordained and went to Australia. No words of love, in the usual acceptation of the term had been spokenno vows had been pledged, but there was that impression left on her mind and heart which no time or distance could efface. At his departure he gave her that volume of Tennyson's poems which was so near going to the pawn-office. She heard but twice from him, and these letters contained some of those mysterious hints which no heart can interpret but that for which and to which they are uttered. He spoke hopefully of his prospects-spoke of soon coming over-expressed his hope that all his dear friends would be glad to see him, and subscribed himself"Ever, dear Adelaide, your attached FRANCIS J. BURCHER." For the last two years she had never heard from him. How strange now it appeared, even to herself, that she did not ask Mrs. Letstieg about him-she knew him, she heard him speak of her, and now she recalled the unutterable look of sadness on Mrs. Letstieg's face as she said, "And you are the Miss Singleton he so often spoke about." What unaccountable beings we are! In our joyous happy moments how often do sad and bitter thoughts intrude themselves upon us, unwelcome visitors, checking our very smile, and bringing a tear into eyes so bright but a moment ago. On the other hand, have we not known thoughts as bitter as death dispelled for a little, by some sweet remembrance of the past, which comes unbidden, but not unwelcome. What had poor Adelaide Singleton to do at such a time with her pleasing recollections? troubles were round about her, yet, while waiting for Mr. and Mrs. Letstieg, the days of childhood, the hours of happiness, which seemed like another existence, were as vividly before her as if they had been of yesterday, and all these day-dreams were connected with Frank Burcher. Happy are they who have a bright spot in their hearts, a treasured image on which they can look with comfort. A loud knock at the door dispelled her reveries, and Mr. and Mrs. Letstieg entered the drawing-room. "No fresh sorrow I hope, Adelaide dear," said Mrs. Letstieg, the moment she saw Adelaide Singleton. Then Adelaide told all about her brother; when she mentioned Mr. Gilby's name, Mr. Letstieg turned round from the mantel-piece on which he was leaning, and asked, in rather a quick tone, "Mr. Gilby, of Street, formerly a Notary Public. ?" "Yes, sir," said poor Adelaide. "To what amount was the bill your brother forged?" "It was to a very large amount, several hundreds, I think." "Is he, do you think, really sorry for the crime he has committed ?" "Oh, sir, he has been already greatly punished; I believe he would now gladly accept the most menial employment to earn an honest livelihood. We, too, have suffered for his crime." "I know that my dear girl," he said, in that pleasing tone which went straight to her heart. |