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And so the little maiden came to know a secret, to possess which the proud earl and his friends would have given a fortune. When it was at length revealed, it filled them with fear and rage.

CHAPTER VIII.-ALICE'S DIARY.

MR. PYM PROPOSES TO "SWEEP THE HOUSE."

1640. December 1st.-Life is changed to me. I should hardly know the careless, dreaming Alice, that used to roam about the house and think all day of fine romantic doings, and of a golden future such as poets fancy.

I seemed to meet that Alice yesterday as I turned over my wardrobe, and unfolded the gowns that Janet so despised. My father says that now I am really a woman, I must pay attention to my dress, and remember that I have to support the dignity of our house in the female line. It is at times a sore vexation, and Lucy does not spare me since she heard my father commend the change. And now he says I must prepare for this visit to Winestead, where we shall meet the gentlefolks, and he will not have me go in old-fashioned clothes. Lucy is in great spirits, remodeling my mother's beautiful dresses, and telling father that I shall want many new ones. His pride in me would lead him to any extravagance; but I am Lucy's mistress, and will not spend money so foolishly. I am sick of it all, and should dread the thought of Christmas, but that it brings Andrew home.

There is little heart in the country for merry-making; yet everyone is preparing to honour the blessed time. Some are full of hope, thinking that the new Parliament will heal all the wounds that Liberty has received; others say that they are too deep to be soon cured. All look serious, and each has a different opinion from his neighbour. When will it all end? I wish we were in London to hear more news; it is so slow travelling north. Who would have thought, a year ago, that I should be fretting myself about the doings of great statesmen? Yet I would not return to the past. No, child Alice! I am better than you were. You had a happy life, but I have a happier and deeper; your soul was only half awake, with folded wings, but I have learnt to take long flights. I have felt the touch of realities, having met care, and sorrow, and even death, face to face. Yet I am more glad than you ever were. If I do not laugh so often, nor sing so gaily, yet low down in my heart a little rill of joy leaps laughing along; for I know a secret, child Alice, that you never knew. I dare not tell you, lest I lose any of its sweetness, or brush off the bloom.

Ah! well, I need not boast, old self. I can tell you nothing so wonderful and grand as the truth you learned long ago—that Christ died for Alice Lister. 'Twas in your day,

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Methought I heard one calling 'Child!'
And I replied, 'My Lord!'"

You solved the great mystery of life, and I can only take further steps in the journey you begun.

December 2nd.-I sighed for news.

To-day they have come, and one part of them has nearly frozen over that little rill that murmured so cheerily in my heart.

But first came public news, in remembering which I must try to forget that I have any cause for sorrow of my own. What a hard lesson this! Yet my father practises it daily.

Sir Harry Vane wrote, as he promised, and I was permitted to read the letter myself. He says that the members have come together with a quicker memory of their injuries, and a greater perception of their own power; and on the day of assembling this was visible in the countenances of most there. He adds that Mr. Pym is very decided, and told Mr. Hyde roundly that "they must not only sweep the house clean below, but must pull down the cobwebs which hung on the tops, that they might not breed dust, and so make a foul house hereafter. That they had now an opportunity to make their country happy by removing all grievances and pulling up the causes of them by the roots if all men would do their duties."

If all men were as brave as Mr. Pym, and as simple in heart, this might soon be, but so many will try to advance themselves and let slip this opportunity. Sir Harry speaks of Mr. Marten as being a steadfast patriot, though some of their party do not think him likely to remain constant to anything but his gaieties. It must be the same Mr. Marten of whom Master Ralph spoke, as being such a huge favourite with the ladies, and full of drollery.

Sir Harry says that the further they go into the business, the worse things look, and Sir Benjamin Rudyard declared in the House that the King's admirers had "rung a very doleful, deadly knell over the whole kingdom." There is one pleasant morsel in the letter, telling of the rejoicings in London on the 28th day of November, when Master Prynne and his two friends entered the city, being set free from imprisonment. The people met them in great multitudes, strewing the way with flowers, and wearing bays and rosemary in their hats. The Parliament has restored their liberty and given them riches, but nothing can make amends for the dreadful pains they endured, by order of Archbishop Laud; nothing can cover up the horrible mutilations that make me sick to think on. This cannot be the religion of Jesus; as one said, "What do these priests think will become of themselves, when the

Master of the house shall come and find them thus beating their fellow servants?" We are a sinful nation, oh, Lord!

With all this sadness, I did not forget that my father's birthday fell on the third day of this month, and to divert my mind, bethought me of making a pasty for to-morrow's dinner. Janet said I had best go and rest in the parlour, or take a walk with Dorothy; but I had rested all the morning since I talked to the poor people who came for medicine and broken meat, so did not heed her advice. While very busy in the buttery, Ann Marvel put her head in at the door and cried, "Oh! here you are, Alice. Janet said I had better come another time; but I found out you were somewhere in the house, so I determined to seek you. She is crosser than ever. She said you were busy ; why, you are only making a pasty; can't I stay?"

I said she might, if she would not come too near me and soil her dress with the flour.

"I never saw you cook anything before, Alice," said she.

Lucy, who was present, took upon herself to remark that Mistress Alice could make pasties before she was Ann's age, though she had no need to make them unless she had a mind.

"I never should have a mind," said Ann; "but mother says I must begin to learn. And now, let me tell you, Alice, what I came for-I have a letter from Andrew."

I gave her a look to be silent before Lucy, which she was quick enough to understand; and so she only asked if I should soon be ready.

I bade her wait a while, which tried her patience sorely, and I saw she had got something unpleasant to tell; so to humour her, and content myself, I bade the cook finish work, and took Ann to the library. "What is it, dear?" said I, sitting on the rug beside

her.

The child began to cry. "Only think, Alice, he is not coming

home for Christmas."

I could fain have kept her company in tears, but drove them back for another time, and said, "Your brother is not ill, is he?"

"No," she replied, sobbing, "he is well; but Master Wakefield is very ill, and his old father entreats Andrew to stay with them, and Andrew says they have all been so kind to him, that he cannot refuse the old man's request. So instead of coming home, he must stay down in the south of England. I know Andrew is sorry, but that does not make it any better, for he says it is bad weather for travelling, that he cannot come home now until Easter. Oh! I could cry all day!"

The child wept so, I could do nought but kiss her wet cheeks, aud pray her to refrain. "But why need Master Wakefield have fallen

ill just now?" she asked; "and Andrew has been with them all this long vacation as tutor; it is very selfish to keep him for Christmas."

When she would hear reason, I tried to console her by talking of Easter, but it seemed too far off to afford much consolation. "To make it worse," she cried, "you are going away too, Alice; all the bad things have come together."

I told her I should not be long away, and that Andrew did not go for his own pleasure. Ann left me, quite subdued, but a little relieved, I think, after sharing her burden with me. As I sat on the rug, with my head on my knees, I could not help but weep too; I realised how much I had really thought of seeing my friend, and how sad and blank the winter would seem. Yet I knew his motive was a worthy one, and if my heart told me true, he also was grieved to be absent so long.

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Ann had left her letter for me to read, saying that there was a message for me in it. It was a loving letter, with much good advice to his wild little Ann; it is not strange that she loves him so tenderly; then came my own name. Tell your dear Mistress Alice that I am sorry not to see her also, but as I hear she is going to Winestead, I am somewhat reconciled to be so far from Hull while so much of its sunshine would be withdrawn. I should have seen so little of her or the good Colonel. I had so counted on this pleasure, but it is not to be; we must learn patience, which is hard enough for me, and for you, dear Ann, an intolerable lesson at present. I think I should have declined this tutorship for the vacation had I known the result, and given up the profits for the sake of what I might have enjoyed. But it seemed best at the time. Tell Mistress Alice this, and say that I have found what I have so long been seeking—she will know what I mean. Bid her remember me as the bells ring out, and the singers tell her Christ is born!' and when the New Year dawns, bid her think of one old friend in her prayers."

I folded up the letter, and smiled to think of Andrew and his new-found rest, and liked him better for staying than if he had come home and spent every day in our society. Did he think I should forget? He does not know me yet, and, indeed, how can he, for I never told him that, night and morning, I repeat his name in my prayers?

Sitting there, thinking about many things, it somehow came to pass that I fell asleep, with my head on the great arm-chair. When I awoke my father was leaning over me, looking very grave, and Janet was standing near the table, saying, "I think, master, she is going to be sick."

"No, I am not," said I; "I was only tired."

"Tired!" said he, "but young lasses should not be tired before noon."

He lifted me up, and looked searchingly into my face. "Thou hast been shedding tears, little daughter. What has vexed you?" "Oh! they have dried up long ago," replied I; "and really they were foolish tears, dear father; so don't remind me of them."

He let me go reluctantly, but I was spared further questioning, and the matter soon passed out of his mind.

(To be continued.)

PORTRAITS OF THE PATRIARCHS.

BY MRS. HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.

VII. THE WITCH AND HEr Work.

THE story of Samson, in the Book of Judges, corresponds in some points to that of St. Christopher in medieval times. A rugged, animal nature, the impersonation of physical strength, and without much moral element, but seized on and used by a Divine impulse for a beneficent purpose. He had strength, and he used it to keep alive this sacerdotal nation, this race from whom were to spring the future apostles, and prophets, and teachers of our Christianity. Like some unknown plant, of rare flower and fruit, cast out to struggle in ungenial soil, nipped, stunted, browsed down by cattle, trod down by wild beasts, the Jewish race, in the times of the Book of Judges, showed no capability of producing such men as Isaiah, and Paul, and John, much less Jesus. Yet, humanly speaking, in this stock now struggling for bare national existence, and constantly in danger of being wiped out, was contained the capability, by Divine culture, of unfolding such Divine shoots, such heavenly blossoms as Jesus and His Apostles.

The Christian religion, with all it holds of hope and brightness for the human race, lay at this period germinant, in seed form, in this crushed and struggling race. Hence the history of Samson-hence the reason why he who possessed scarce a moral element of character is spoken of as under the guidance of the Spirit of the Lord. A blind impulse to fight for the protection of his nation against the barbarous tribes that threatened their destruction possessed him, and with this impulse caused rushes and floods of preternatural strength.

With the history of this inspired giant is entwined that of a woman whose name has come to stand as a generic term for a class

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