they manage; but they seem to think religion would make their troubles worse, instead of lightening them." "If they were allowed to put asunder what God has joined, James;-if they might take the promises and leave the commands, secure happiness without seeking holiness, and serve God and mammon together, we should find a great many who now shun and even revile religion, very willing to take it up. But the cross is what they hate; pride will not own a crucified Saviour as the only hope, and corruption will not follow Him through trials, in the path of obedience, nor desire the sanctification that would spoil their relish for vain and sinful pleasures." "Well, granny, I do think, that is I am afraid, it is not so much the Spirit of God as the sickness I feel, that makes me care so little about idle play, and love the Bible as I do." "My darling boy, sickness alone would not wean your heart from earth, much less would it endear the blessed book to your soul; but this sickness is the cross that your loving Lord sees good to lay upon you; and because you are his own dear child, he leads you to seek refreshment at that fountain of life, and to delight in the word, which tells you that poor as you are and helpless, sick, feeble, and sinful, all things are yours, for you are Christ's." The boy dropped the long silken lashes in which tears had already gathered, and meekly replied, "I am not afraid Jesus will cast me out, granny, for I came to Him because he has invited me, and I am sure he never said what he did not mean." The widow's heart sang for joy over this simple declaration of a hope that she knew would never, never make the young believer ashamed. How light seemed the affliction which had weighed down her spirit all day, when thus, placed as it were in the balance against it, the exceeding and eternal weight of glory appeared to the eye of faith! James had never before spoken out, either as to his bodily illness, or the strong hold that his spirit had taken on the promises of the gospel, and she felt how timely was the communication, at once to solemnize and soothe her mind. But evening came, and brought a renewal of trouble. Helen's face, for the first time, appeared swollen with weeping, and Mary was in a state of excitement rendered the more evident by her struggles to conceal it. Neither entered into any explanation, but Helen, on being urged to speak, said, "I will no more dissuade you from going to the manager; for indeed I cannot much longer bear it: the work is getting beyond my strength, and they make it heavier than it need be-all because I will not go along with them in wickedness." Little did the widow suspect that the fair young girl so tenderly reared by her, to whom even the language of unkindness was never addressed, had that day been cruelly beaten by a ruffian overlooker! Mary alone knew it. However, it was evident that some sort of protection must be obtained; and without divulging to any of the family her past proceedings or farther intentions, Mrs. Green made up her mind to try an appeal to the elder brother of the house of Z. who bore the character of a very domestic man, remarkably fond of his daughters. She had never seen him, as they had been absent, and Mr. Stratton's letter was to the other Z. The house was a little way out of town, the grounds through which she had to pass were beautifully planted ; and the contrast of fresh air, green leaves, bright sunshine and the singing of birds, to the scene she had just quitted, was most reviving. She trod the velvet grass with the elasticity of a younger step; and her hope brightened as she approached the elegant, but still rural mansion. She was admitted into the library, a large and cheerful room, of which the long windows opened upon a lawn, diversified with flower-plots. Mr. Z. was attired in a plain loose morning-coat, seated at a table where books and writing materials lay before him; at a smaller table, near him, was a lovely young lady, seemingly about the age of Helen, employed in painting a group of flowers. The widow's humble curtsey was acknowledged by a slight nod from Mr. Z., and after glancing at her dress, always neat and highly respectable, he told her to sit down. Encouraged by this belief, she pro- you yourself can desire a female to be; ceeded to state the occasion of her visit; and she is obliged to hear and to see in and meeting with no interruption, she en- their worst forms, all the evil things that I tered upon the topic as especially affecting spoke of, and others that I could not even the morals and health of her young char- mention before the young lady. Let this ges. She spoke of Helen as a pious, move your compassion for her." But Mr. modest, retiring girl, who required nothing Z. had worked himself into a passion, for more than liberty to remain so, and to pur-propriety's sake. matchless! sue her work with the diligence that "Really, woman, your assurance is formed part of her character; but who, Not content with insulting because she maintained her integrity my daughter by your low conversation, among many evil examples, was not only you must now place some dirty factory girl persecuted by her fellow-labourers, but on the same level with her, and thence also oppressed, at their instigation, by the argue that I am to go, in person of course, people placed in authority over them. All and rescue your distressed damsel from that she sought was an intimation from the mill !" and he laughed in bitter scorn, the superiors of the concern to the men as he spoke. who overlooked the common hands, that they required to have virtue protected, and industry encouraged, instead of the reverse. What could the dismayed applicant do to appease him? Every attempt at explanation seemed to aggravate her offence, and at length she rose from her seat; a During her appeal for Helen, whose movement that seemed to impart no small orphan state she briefly, but touchingly satisfaction to Mr. Z. who quickly pulled described, the young lady frequently sus- the bell, and himself striding across the pended the operations of her pencil, and room, opened the door for her, saying, “I listened with looks of kind commiseration: believe you have erred more through ignoMr. Z. was silent, and a gloomy expres- rance and presumption than any positive sion gathered on his features, which might, wish to offend me: so I shall say no more: however, result from dissatisfaction at-there, go along," he added, slightly hearing of his people's mal-practices. At touching her arm to expedite her, as, at length, he glanced towards his daughter, the encouragement of this more moderate and catching one of her compassionate speech she once more strove to address looks directed to the speaker, he abruptly him, "go along, good woman, and learn exclaimed, “Amelia, go to your sisters." better manners for the future." She immediately left the room; and no sooner was the door closed than Mr. Z. commenced an angry speech, reprimanding the widow for introducing such improper subjects in the presence of a young lady, whose ears ought not to have been assailed by discourse so unfit for a delicate mind. "What have I said, sir?" asked the poor woman in amaze: "surely I avoided every word that could be thought improper; and I never spoke of, or alluded to anything indelicate." As she followed a servant through the hall, Miss Z., the innocent cause of, or rather pretext for this rude rebuff, came towards her with money in her hand; “I am so sorry for your distress," she gently said, "and perhaps you will accept this trifle to buy a few things for your orphan girl." "Dear young lady!" replied the widow, "it is not money that I want: but if I could win your father's protection for my poor girls, how thankful I should be!" "Oh," exclaimed Amelia, looking frightened, "Papa never allows any of us to interfere in the least about the mills-I must not say one word to him on that, because" "You talked of drunkards, swearers, and shameless people,' and drew a picture of misery, dirt and confusion unfit to be heard of in a place like this. It is, let me here a side door opened, and an elder tell you, no small liberty to come to my domestic appeared, who, darting a look of house on such an errand at all; but to anger at the poor woman, said in a testy talk before my daughter is unpardonable." voice, "Miss Amelia, your Mamma wants "Oh, sir, though of very humble rank, you directly. Directly, Miss," he repeated my poor Helen is modest and delicate as impatiently, as the girl was about to finish her sentence; and, seemingly with reluc tance, she walked away. The man growling in an angry under tone to his fellow servant, "Turn her out at once," followed his young mistress; and the other, a mere youth, proceeding to the door with Mrs. Green, took occasion to whisper, "You can't succeed here: you'll only make yourself enemies in the mill, by trying to get justice out of it. If the agent isn't your friend, never reckon on any good by coming to the owners; and our agent is nobody's friend but his own." agitation, while his forehead was streaked with crimson, and his light grey eyes, bloodshot and glistening, seemed ready to start from his head, he stared by turns at the pleader and at the roll of parchment which he held, until the speech was concluded, the petition was spread out, and the ink-stand placed beside it: then he sprang forward with a step that shook the room, and after cutting rather than writing his name on the skin, he returned to his place, drawing the sleeve of his smockfrock across his eyes, and with a sound between a sob and a growl, ejaculating, "Wow! neighbour Green, the man, woman, or child that wont go on bended knees morning, noon and night, to thank God for being born in Old England, ought to be made a negur slave of." Then turning to Richard, he added, "Lad, ye wor born a freeman: ye be a poor boy; but not a lord in the land can stamp his fine boot on the toe of your old shoe but ye may take the law on him. Think o' that, Dick! Liberty and old England for ever!" The scene had been talked over at night in their own dear cottage; and Mrs. Barker, with that legal knowledge which it beseemed a beadle's wife to possess, had expounded to them the law of their native land exemplifying it by a recital of cases occurring within her own recollection, where for instances of supposed aggres What a change comes over the face of creation when sadness weighs down the heart that erewhile "rejoiced in nature's joy?" The sun shone as brightly, the green turf spread as broadly, the flowers bloomed in an atmosphere as fragrant, and the little birds renewed their carols with glee as unrestrained; but no response was found in the poor widow's aching bosom to their claims on her glad attention. Sorrow had overwhelmed her spirit, always too sanguine because prone to make her own warm-heartedness the standard of anticipations respecting others. Her last hope had failed; of the agent, what she had just heard was evidently true, and too plainly the young footman had represented the uselessness of other appeal. Neither of the Messrs. Z. had chosen to enter at all on the subject of her complaint, and it was clear that an excusesion even ludicrously trivial, certain litihad been seized by this gentleman roughly to baffle her suit, as his brother had contemptuously frozen her into silence. Yet there lingered in her mind a sort of incre- All these things had tended to deepen dulity as to the possibility of such a state in the mind of our widow the feeling of of things existing in England, simply be- independence natural to it: she regarded cause it was England. She remembered the legal enactments of her country as that Mr. Barlow had once held a meeting being to every poor man "his own vine of his parishioners, in order to give them and his own fig-tree," under whose shadow an opportunity of petitioning Parliament he might securely sit; and now, despite for the total abolition of slavery in our of all present experience, she was confiwestern colonies; a gentleman attended, dent that redress was to be had, though who detailed the wrongs and described where she could not tell. There was no the sufferings of the poor negroes, pre-outrage yet committed-so far as she vious to receiving their signatures. On that occasion, a stout old farmer, of the humbler class, was seated near her; and she could not forget the feverish anxiety with which he awaited permission to write his name. Half rising from the bench, leaning his hands on the knob of a stout oaken staff, every finger trembling with gious cottagers had summoned their richer neighbours before a magistrate; ay, and obtained redress too. knew-to warrant an appeal to magisterial authority; but surely there must be some species of protection short of that. The remarks of South flashed upon her memory, and she dreaded to find his description just, to the letter: but still, she thought, we are in England; and it is not possible that in this English town there shoul "That is just the thing, granny: I'm quite sure Katy's father knows no more about the gospel than any heathen at the world's farthest end. I want you to teach him." be some thousands of slaves-white slaves The widow had heard of it before; but -free-born slaves-and my own children she only replied, "Well, my darling, among them. No: it it not possible," and blessed be God for the Bible, which she quickened her pace, as if to escape teaches us to avoid all such foolish and from the tormenting suggestion that it wicked ways." was not only possible but absolutely true. When in the evening, the party once more assembled, her attention was partially diverted by seeing Mary pull in with her a singular-looking child, from whose thick, tangled ringlets of dark auburn peeped out a little face, full of expression, and of a complexion the clear beauty of which was not wholly obscured by all the soil that had accumulated upon it. Her bright hazel eyes danced with evident pleasure, and the pretty mouth was dimpled with smiles as it uttered half-coaxingly, half-reproachfully, "Ah, then, Miss Mary, ma'am, that I wouldn't be let clean myself for the gentry to see me !" "It will make you more careful to clean yourself, Katy, if I let them see how dirty you are: come along, granny wont be cr to you." The little girl advanced, and stood smiling and blushing before the widow, who, kindly patting her cheek, said, "So, you are Mary's little friend, Katy Malony." "I'm Miss Mary's scavenger, ma'am.” "And Mary is your piecener," added Helen, who saw the old lady look grave at this distinction of ranks. "Yes, I'm Miss Katy's piecener, ma'am," said Mary in high good humour, immitating Katy's accent as she stood beside her. The little girl looked round, and laughed. After a few more remarks, Mary drew her grandmother aside, and with a face full of earnest anxiety said, "Oh, granny, that poor child's father is so weak, and so friendless, and treated so unkindly by the people where they lodge! I want you to get him in here, and talk to him; for oh, you can't think how shockingly ignorant he is! You won't believe it, but I found out that he says his prayers to the Virgin Mary-only think! to the Virgin Mary, who died one thousand seven hundred and odd years ago: and he splashes a little pump-water about every night; for what, can you ever guess? No, that you never could-he does it to frighten the devil, granny! Did you ever in all your whole life hear of any thing like that granny ?" “If you bring him here, we will do what the Lord enables us." "Thank you, thank you, my own granny! I brought Katy that she may see how kind you are, and that we are not the grand gentry she takes us for. She will soon bring her father, if you encourage her a little." So Katy was encouraged to her heart's content; and having had her "tay," as she called it, took leave with a joyous promise that she would ask her father to come next evening. This little incident gave a pleasant turn to their feelings. Mary was eloquent on the subject of Malony's unaccountable religion; and the widow gave them some insight into its souldestroying character, from the pages of inspired truth. All the missionary zeal with which Mr. Barlow had loved to inspire his little flock, on behalf of the heathen, was now kindled afresh, its object being a poor Irish papist, who was listening the while to his child's enraptured description of her new friends, and giving her the promises he sought of accompanying her to their dwelling. But when the hour of rest arrived, the widow could not help noticing the evident difficulty and pain attending the movement of Helen's arm. She questioned her, and was told that the fatigue was certainly great, and that any amelioration of her mental and bodily sufferings would be welcome. Beyond this, she owned nothing; but her frequent starts and restlessness during the night increased her friend's uneasiness to such a pitch that she resolved on making another attempt to discover where redress for factory-wrongs was to be sought and to this end she made up her mind that a visit to the clergyman whose ministry she attended would be the safest step. He was certainly a good man: he preached the truth, and bore a high character for humanity and every other right quality. He must needs know the mill-system, for he had been several years rector of that parish; and he would surely point out to her the best path to take. Once decided upon, this plan left her nothing to regret but that she had not adopted it in the first instance. So, next morning, with as little delay as possible, after setting her simple household in order, she tied on her black silk bonnet and Sunday cloak, and announced herself at the Rector's door as one of his parishioners, seeking counsel from him. The servant soon returned, bidding her sit down in a small parlour for a few minutes: and there the widow cheerfully awaited the coming of one who would as she fondly believed put her in possession of that rare philosopher's stone -justice in the factories. CHAPTER XII. FAILING HOPES. THE Rector was a man of grave, quiet aspect, more stately and reserved than Mr. Barlow, but perfectly kind both in language and manner. He listened not only with attention but with evident interest to the tale; and the significant shake of the head that marked his emphatic dissent from her conduct in yielding to Mr. Stratton's persuasion boded little good. This gesture was frequently repeated as she went on; but her heart never quaked so much as when it was used as a comment on her declaration, that certainly there must be a remedy somewhere, though she had not yet been able to discover where. "I now feel, sir, that I have done wrong, very wrong, in catching at a seeming advantage without sufficient thought and prayer; but I erred through anxiety for the welfare of those dearer to me than myself." "I make no doubt of it, Mrs. Green; but when unhappily we neglect the command to be wise as serpents, the harmlessness of the dove will not save us from the consequences of that omission.” "In all my ways, sir, I strove to acknowledge God; and I trusted that he would direct my path." mighty meaning, which is much insisted on in scripture: 'Wait.' You seem to me to have overlooked that word.” "I acknowledge my fault, sir; I own my hastiness; I take all shame to myself; and believe me, my sufferings have not been small. But now I come to ask counsel, while humbly receiving your just rebuke. Submit I must to very many privations: my future days must be passed in sorrow and anxiety; and I never can expect again to know the comfort I once enjoyed. But though we must all toil painfully and all suffer in various ways, I want my children protected from vice on the one hand, and from oppression on the other. This is what every body in a Christian, free country has a right to expect; and it is all I may now presume to crave." The rector again shook his head; "I can only direct you to seek help of God." "But he works by means, sir; and I am bound to use the means." "Your case, I lament to say, is that of many others, who on first coming to the mills are shocked at the demoralization prevailing; and not being aware that the evil has outgrown all ordinary means of checking it, persuade themselves that redress may be obtained, until experience shows them that nothing remains but to submit to their painful lot." "Yes, sir," said the widow, with some warmth, for she thought the rector treated the matter much too phlegmatically, "yes, sir, another thing remains; and that is to quit these wicked mills altogether." "Of course if you have any other means of subsistence for your family; but from what you have told me, I should fear you had not: and let me, as a friend, dissuade you from another precipitate movement." Mrs. Green was greatly distressed; she began to feel the pressure of the bonds that surrounded her on all sides, and with tears in her eyes exclaimed, "And will not you, sir, for the love of Him whose minister you are, assist me?" "Believe me," answered the rector kindly, "had I, instead of a limited parochial income, twice the revenues of this diocese at my disposal, they would not suffice to answer even a small part of the heart-rending appeals daily made to my True; but there is a little word of charity." |