HE Earl reached Edinburgh in the

beginning of winter, and in those

days an Edinburgh winter was a very gay season. That brilliant society, which has now become a matter of tradition, was then in its zenith. Those renowned supper-parties, where great wits, learned philosophers, and clever and beautiful women, met together, а most enjoyable company, were going on almost every night, and drawing into their various small circles everything that was most attractive in the larger circle outside.

Lord Cairnforth was a long time before

he suffered himself to be drawn in like

wise; but the business which detained him in Edinburgh grew more and more tedious: he found difficulties arise on every hand, and yet he was determined not to leave until he had done all he wanted to do. Not only in money, but by personal influence, which now that he tried to use it, he found was considerable, he furthered, in many ways, the interests of Mr. Menteith's sons. The widow, too, a gentle, helpless woman, soon discovered where to come to, on all occasions, for counsel and aid. Never had the Earl led such a busy life life-or one more active, as far as his capabilities allowed.

Still, now and then time hung on his

hands, and he felt a great lack of companionship; until, by degrees, his name and a good deal of his history got noised abroad, and he was perfectly inundated with acquaintances. Of course, he had it at his own option how much or how little he went out into the world. Every advantage that rank or fortune could give, was his already; but he had another possession still-his own as much here as in the solitudes of Cairnforth, the art of making himself "weel likit." The mob of "good society," which is no better than any other mob, will run after money, position, talent, beauty, for a time; but it requires a quality higher and deeper than these, and

distinct from them all, to produce lasting popularity.

This the Earl had. In spite of his infirmities he possessed the rare power of winning love, of making people love him for his own sake. At first, of course, his society was sought from mere curiosity, or even through meaner motives; but gradually, like the good clergyman with whom

"Fools who came to scoff, remained to pray,"

those who visited him to stare at, or pity a fellow-creature so afflicted, remained, attracted by his gentleness, his patience, his wonderful unselfishness. And some few, of nobler mind, saw in him the grandest and most religious spectacle that men

can look upon, a human soul which has not suffered

itself to be conquered by adversity.

Very soon, the Earl gathered round