fraction might relief be diminished, so as not to lose the semblance of relief to those for whose special use the fund was set apart-then the calculators were necessarily in imminent peril of sacrificing on the shrine of supposed public duty, not only all the finer feelings of humanity, all the brotherly observances that man owes to man, but also the obedience due from every professing follower of Christ to the explicit, unmistakeable command of his divine Master, "Do ye unto all men even as ye would they should do unto you." Now, whatever militates against the scriptural law of love, is always found to be a hardening process. That such was the result of a persevering plan to grind the faces of the poor, though not originating in any natural propensity so to do, will be manifested but too plainly in the progress of this narrative. We are to follow a single family through vicissitudes that thousands of English families are per petually encountering; and in the progress of our tale we will drop that part of the proceeding which had no direct reference to them, and pass on to the moment when, the result of this special meeting having been duly notified for the information of the distant vestry-clerk, preparatory to a broad-day, Richard Green was called in, to bear the letter to its destination. The clergyman and doctor, having their hands full, departed as soon as the business was closed; but the rest of the party remained, consisting of the churchwarden, the overseer, and two others; of whom one, a Mr. Stratton, had earned the reputation of being the shrewdest man at foreseeing, and the most skilful at averting, impending burdens from the parish, within the whole district. Indeed the eminence thus conceded to him became doubly injurious; for in his anxiety to act up to the character, he was led into paths of deception and cruelty, from which he would otherwise have shrank. Richard, having made his bow, stood, cap in hand, awaiting his orders. A short whispering dialogue passed between the overseer and Mr. Stratton; at the close of which the latter addressed him with much kindness. "Well, my boy, I hear you are getting on with credit, and likely to make your way respectably in the world?" Richard blushed, and bowed. "The cottage that your father left is nicely kept: I often ride past and notice the good repair of all about it. Does the widow Green manage still for you?" "My grandmother, sir, has taken care of it, and of us too, ever since father died, seven years ago." "Indeed! a worthy old lady. And how many of you may there be?" "Myself is the eldest, sir; and James, and Mary, and Willy; besides Helen Fleetwood." "She's an orphan, I think ?” "Quite, sir; and she has no friend in the world to care for her except granny— and us.” "Humph! Where was she born?" "In this parish, sir; and has always lived in it all her life," answered Richard with a vivacity that showed he thought either Helen or the parish had somewhat to boast of in the circumstance. "How old are you?" asked the overseer. "Seventeen last July, and Helen is sixteen." "And James ?" "Thirteen: but being very sickly, you see, sir, he doesn't look so much. Mary is as tall as he, though she's but eleven; and Willy is just eight, if you please, sir," said Richard, who seemed highly gratified at being permitted thus to parade the objects dearest to his heart before the mental view of such fine gentlemen. A pause ensued; marked by an interchange of wise looks between the attentive auditors of this family chronology. Mr. Stratton then spoke. יי? Oh, by the way, Richard, you will be master of that cottage, won't you "Granny will be mistress of it as long as she lives, and I live," replied the boy, colouring deeply with emotion. "Very good: I approve your feeling. And the lease is for ever, isn't it?" "No, sir: for three lives." "All stout and hearty, I hope?" "Two of them are gone," said the boy, "and Mr. Hewitt is the third." A sagacious nod from the overseer directed Mr. Stratton's attention to this point, while he repeated, "George Hewitt of Oakfield-you know him." "And the present landlord," pursued Stratton, "is Mr. Grey, of Ipswich ?" "Yes, sir: we hope he'll renew the | men, and their condescending inquiries, lease, as the old landlord told father he'd was eagerly listened to by all. "How certainly do if the lives ran out in his very kind of the gentlemen to take such time." an interest in us," observed the widow, whose guileless character rendered her unsuspicious of evil. "I wish old Buckle had been there," cried Mary. "Did they make any particular inquiries about me?" demanded Mrs. Barker; and the toss of the head that ensued on hearing Richard's reluctant negative, bespoke a sense of offended dignity; while James remarked, "I wonder you wern't too dashed to speak." "Well, Richard, be a good lad; you've a deal of information, I see, and may turn out a great credit to your family. Now take this letter to Mr. Hall, and be sure you wait for an answer, and deliver it here, to the governor, this evening. Do you mind ?" "I will take care to do it, your honour:" replied the lad; then pocketing the letter, he made his obeisance, and hastened away. "A nice, sharp fellow that," observed the church-warden. "As to the place, it can never be his; but he will maintain himself respectably, I doubt not." 66 "I would rather not trust to that," said the overseer: we have fellows as sharp as he on our hands, picking oakum here in this workhouse. As to the family, they are as good as on the books already. Hewitt's life is not worth a day's purchase; Grey has promised—that is, I am sure he will find more profitable tenants than an old woman and a pack of children, who have it, besides, for next to nothing. So we may reckon on Goody Green, her girl, whose settlement is certainly here, and the whole batch of grand-children, including a sickly boy:-a rare discovery you have made for us, Mr. Stratton!" "I have sprung the game to be sure: and now suppose I wing them all into another parish, what will you say?" "That it's the best of many good turns you have done us," answered Miles, with a bow: "and moreover that if any living man can do it, Mr. Stratton is the gentleman." Helen was silent: Richard had passed very delicately over the part relating to her, merely repeating the question as to her place of birth; but she felt a sort of boding uneasiness at heart, probably from her really reflective mind catching at the obvious tendency of the examination pursued. Mrs. Barker looked at her for a moment, and exclaimed, "I shouldn't wonder"-then suddenly checking hersel, shook her head, and finished by muttering in a mysterious tone a soliloquy not new from her lips; "I know the ways of the parish pretty well." Prayer closed, as it had commenced, the peaceful and industrious day; and when the widow Green had paid a tiptoe visit to each simple couch, to ascertain that all was comfortable, with a specia. reference to that of the sickly boy, she knelt down alone, to commend anew herself and her precious charges to him who is the God of the widow, the Father of the fatherless, and who had promised that in answer to the prayer of faith he would guide her with his counsel here, and afterward receive her to glory. Two months glided on, without any ma"Well, take no notice; time will show." terial change in the affairs of our cottaWhen evening came, it found the cot-gers; but the blasts of winter that stripped tagers seated in their snug kitchen. The the trees of their few remaining leaves, widow was busy at her wheel, Helen manufacturing a suit for Willy, out of one that had done good service to James; Mary knitting; James watching the simmerings of his supper, the ingredients for which cross Mr. Buckle had not neglected to supply; and Willy, with no small satisfaction, reciting to Mrs. Barker a hymn that she had desired him to learn. Richard's arrival completed the party: and the story of his interview with the great and dashed the foam of ocean over the cliffs, bearing it even to the humble roofs that stood sheltered on their western side, proved too severe for Hewitt. He was given over; and every post might be expected to convey the tidings that William Green's cottage had lapsed to the landlord. Many shared in the concern expressed by the neighbours for the result of an application which the kind clergyman had promised to make to the land "I understand your feelings," resumed her friend; "it is very hard to leave a spot we have been attached to for years, and break up old ties; but, I doubt not, any tie would be easier for you to break than the one binding you to the children to whom you have been both mother and father these many years." ord; and in the discomfiture occasioned towards the pretty little window which by the short reply, containing merely a commanded a wide prospect. "eference to the agent, as being empowered to arrange all such matters in that quarter. This functionary being immediately, but privately applied to by Mr. Barlow, frankly told him that the rent thenceforth to be demanded was so entirely beyond the poor widow's means, that he had felt at liberty to promise a new lease to one who had closed with his terms. The clergyman wisely refrained from communicating this to the family, while as yet the life remained; but secretly busied himself in devising plans for their future support. One Saturday morning, while the widow Green was occupied in scouring up her house, assisted by Helen, two gentlemen tapped at the door. On their entrance, Mr. Stratton was recognized: the other was a stranger. A respectful reception, and ready answers to some general inquiries having been given, the visiters seated themselves, Mr. Stratton insisting that the widow should do the same, and desiring Helen to continue her employment. He then proceeded: "There is much kind feeling excited on your behalf, my good woman; matters look very unpromising as to your lease; and I suppose you are prepared for the worst." A slight quiver passed over the widow's lip, as she replied, "I trust, sir, that He who orders all things for us, will give us grace to receive it thankfully at his hand: whether it may be what we call good, or what we call evil." "Very right: a truly religious person like you can never be cast down by a change in outward affairs; particularly when, as you seem to say, what we call evil may turn out to be really for our good." "It is true, sir," answered the poor woman: "the worst pain that ever smites me is when I think we may be parted and scattered abroad—and they so young!" "And you in the decline of life, and likely soon to be wanting the comfort from them that they have found you so ready to impart," added Mr. Stratton, looking towards Helen, who was leaning on the dresser with her face concealed. "I do hope, I do trust," cried the poor widow, while her tears burst forth, "that it may please the Lord, in his goodness, to order it so as not to part us yet.” Mr. Stratton nodded to his companion, who, drawing his chair nearer to her, began: "That is what we have been considering of, my good lady. You must know, the town where I live is one of the first places in England for furnishing good, healthful, profitable employment for industrious people, from those of your own age down to the small children, whose little nimble fingers get so expert at the easy tasks given to them, that if you happened to have a little boy even of seven years old, he would make a good round sum at the week's end by his own work-or play, you may almost call it." "What work may it be, sir?' "Different sorts: you see we are great manufacturers, and have a vast deal of employment to give-so we had need, for the crowds who come begging for a share in it would distract us, if we had not. As "That is true enough," said his com- it is, the numbers who are sent away make panion, as many can testify." "This gentleman," continued Mr. Stratton, "is a friend of mine, passing through our place. He comes from a distant town where there are hundreds of families, led by different circumstances to settle there, all of whom are now thankful enough for any event that helped to fix them in such a prosperous place." The widow glanced around her, and it a difficult thing to get; but I being able to influence the gentlemen, can always secure a person against disappointment, and get you all into a capital mill." "Is it the factories?" said the widow, starting. "I don't wonder at your being surprised to hear you may be certain of employment," replied the other: "but depend on it I shan't deceive you." "I have heard much about the factories, sir, but little enough in their favour." "To be sure,” observed Mr. Stratton, laughing. "Those who succeed, settle there, and are too well engaged to run about gossipping; while the disappointed folks spread far and wide, proclaiming like the fox in the fable, how very sour are the grapes they could not reach." "That may be," remarked the widow thoughtfully. "It is, I assure you," said the stranger. "Those who are lucky enough to get fully engaged soon come to live like gentlemen. Good lodging, capital clothing, the best to eat, and plenty of it: kind neighbours, generous masters, skilful doctors" "And fine preachers," added Mr. Strat ton. "Oh, for those that like fine preaching it is as good as London itself: lots of Bible Societies, missionary meetings, tract depositories." strong healthy girl like you may earn enough, and easily, to keep her old hands both quiet and warm. Good bye to you." And the gentlemen departed. Why did you not tell them, granny," said Helen, when the visiters had left the cottage," that you had relations in the factories ?" "It would have done no good, my dear; and indeed I wanted to have their own account of the matter: for I often thought my daughter Wright had a little overrated the comforts of the place, because she went against the judgment of her friends; and she is one of those, Helen, who don't like to own they are disappointed." "But what a fine thing it must be, if all this is true." "It is'nt all true, to my knowledge; but the Parliament has been making new laws they say, and all for the benefit of the working people: so it may be truer than I "And schools?" asked the widow anx- thought at first. Well, we must wait, and iously. see how things turn out, Helen. A higher "Capital schools: day, evening and hand than ours is overruling all for good." Sunday schools to no end." "We cannot stop long now," observed Mr. Stratton. "Think over what you have heard, but don't mention a word of it to anybody at present. In the first place, my friend would be exposed to so many applications he might not be able to serve you effectually; and in the next place, the life in the lease has not yet expired: so you have a chance still." "I will not mention it, sir; unless to Mr. Barlow, who is always my true friend." "Mr. Barlow! oh, no by no means: he is the best man alive, and your friend; but then he is other people's friend too. Come, I have good reason for desiring you to promise you won't name the matter to any body till we talk it over again." The widow promised: adding that she would answer for Helen too. "Come here, Helen," said the kind neighbour, "Why you are grown quite a woman. Don't you think it would be a nice plan to stop with your good old friend, instead of going out to all sorts of drudgery?" They resumed their employments; and on the morrow the young people attended the Sunday school, with faces as cheerful and hearts as light, as any in the village. Helen taught her class, Richard his, and the three children, as usual, gave perfect satisfaction to their instructors. From the school they went in modest order to the church, where the widow Green was already in her place. They had proceeded but a few paces homeward, after the service, when a deep toll of the large bell struck them with a startling effect: they paused involuntarily. "Poor Hewitt :" remarked a gentleman who was passing, "when did he die?” "I don't know: I heard yesterday that he could not live many hours." Another step or two brought the partys painfully interested in these tidings within a few feet of the humble mound, over which a neat wooden grave-rail extended, bearing the names of William and Sarah Green and their departed children. It was almost too much for the widow; the cottage rose up before her, with all its sad "Indeed, sir, I should not mind drudgery: and sweet associations; the past and the but I could not part with her," casting her future blending with the present, in a way tearful eyes towards the old lady. they had never done before. She leaned 'Nor need you," said the stranger; "a more heavily on her grandson's arm; and as with affectionate sympathy he pressed | "What a difference there is between hers closer to his side, a sob-a sound not Mrs. Barker and cross old Buckle!" whis often heard from her patient lips-burst forth, and then the natural weakness of humanity was conquered by a sweet recurrence to her mind of the words she had just before heard quoted in the pulpit: "Be still, and know that I am God." Nothing was said on the subject: Richard fully understood the extent of what had befallen them; but he was a boy alike of resolute spirit and of sanguine disposition. The burden that then hung on his arm was dear to him as his life; and in deep devotion of soul he entered on the new path of duty into which the funeral bell had ushered him, determining that while he had hands to work, neither the aged form beside him nor the youthful beings who followed their tread should know want or sorrow. The untried path presented no obstacles to his inexperienced eye; and if Richard grieved over the loss of his little patrimony, still more did he rejoice in the conscious acquisition of what was indisputably his own-useful information, industrious habits, and an unblemished character. At the cottage door they were met by Mrs. Barker, who, with a face where concern was most legibly pictured, took the widow's hand, saying, "If I could save you from what's now likely to come upon you, by walking fifty miles on my bare feet, I'd set out this minute." "That you would, ma'am," exclaimed more than one young voice: while the widow mildly said, "I know I have a kind, true friend on earth as long as Mrs. Barker is there but now will you please to defer all talk about these things till to-morrow. We must remember the sabbath-day to keep it holy; and for all the rest, the Lord will provide.”” No word of allusion to the event was heard during the remainder of the day: all was cheerfulness, though perhaps not so bright as at some other times. The lodger's studious attentions, her many little bustling kindnesses, and looks of anxious love, tended to keep the matter very distinctly present to their thoughts; and once or twice she so far forgot herself as to mutter expressions of admiration, the origin of which none could mistake, who knew the circumstances of the case. pered Mary to Helen. But the next morning when the pail of milk was handed in, cross old Buckle spoke in tones so gentle, and stroked her head so kindly, and slipped so bright a shilling into her hand, that Mary's opinion was quite staggered: tripping backward, as usual, in Helen's path, she exclaimed, "I say, Helen, it is a good thing to be poor and in trouble: every body does be so kind to one then," Alas, poor Mary! she had much to learn. CHAPTER III. THE MIGRATION. AT the noon-tide hour, Mr. Stratton again appeared, with his friend; and after expressing regret at the recent event, said, "I am to much hurried to stop now: but to prove to you that the advice we gave is good, my friend has brought a pamphlet, printed and published, giving an account of the matter. Read it carefully, and keep your promise of saying nothing, till we see you again." Mrs. Green needed no inducement to read it carefully; she was wavering on a point of the deepest importance to her and hers: and though clinging to a faint hope of the renewal, until she should hear from Mr. Barlow the result of his visit to the agent, she pondered as inevitable the alteruative of dispersion, or migration to the factories. The pamphlet was soon read: it set forth in glowing colours the comfort, the abundance, the independence of those who engaged in the work, fully bearing out her informant in his largest statements. Could she reject such evidence! No, it would have seemed too much like spurning from her an advantage providentially placed within her grasp; and she only regretted on seeing the clergyman approach, that she was not at liberty to communicate to him her bright prospects. Mr. Barlow's entrance, however, recalled too vividly the comforts of past days |