the inward monitor say to the good man: "Thou hast done well; rejoice at thy own well-doing." It will oftener say: "Thou hast done better this time than the last

but by whose aid? Alas! that thy good

acts are so few and far between." And still oftener will it say: "For what thou hast done, thank the Great Giver, who has made thee, unworthy as thou art, a steward of His merciful gifts!"

Consider, beneficent friend, whoe'er you are why did you drop your copper into that blind old woman's basket? Did any one else the same before you? And did you feel ashamed to be outdone in charity by another? Why that halfpenny to the shirtless brat, or to the young mother who carries a diseased infant in her arms, and tenders for your purchase a bunch of infected flowers? Did they pester you by running and begging at your side? Why so generous a donation to this or that Benevolent Society? Does it please your vanity

to set forth your name as governor, or visitor, or chairman? Doubtless, without your name the example, say you, would be lost? Why, to go further, didst thou give soup and bread to the emaciated wretch who sits always at thy gates, or get a hospital ticket for that poor thing whose horrible sores have eaten through its flesh, and left bare the bones, that are full of rottenness? Say, art thou by nature tender-hearted? And did these sights which daily greeted thee, excite commiseration, till thou couldst no longer bear the presence that so disturbed the "even tenor of your way?" Perhaps, thou hast a sin or two it would be as well to blot out, and hopest to make some acceptable immolation, “pro remedio animæ tuæ." Perhaps thine eyes have this day glanced upon a warning passage, making thee feel more squeamish than is thy custom; and thou hast relieved thy stomach by casting up a mite from out the treasure whereof the warning impertinently told thee thou didst possess above thy share. Is it

so? Confess truly! And, of all the blessings wafted up to the throne of Mercy from the lips of want-say how many thou expectest reflected back upon motives like these!

In Pierce's charity there was something of penitence, something of novelty, something of soft-heartedness and natural sympathy, something of self-gratification, and something of duty and Love; which last alone deserved the "equivalent" he yearned for.

If it had been possible, as certainly it was not at this early stage of his progress, for the last of these motives to have actuated him unalloyed by any baser ones, he would have persevered without need of more encouragement. But having only journeyed as far as the first "meadow," like Christian, he could not discern the light beyond the wicket-gate;" and with certain misgivings as to the path that lay beyond, he had to encounter the ordinary temptations which in

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the moment of despondency suggest a turning back. He flinched a little, and as giving way to one temptation always creates a vacuum that is instantly filled by another, he found it inconvenient to visit the widow's court one day, and out of the question the next, because he had promised to call on Lady Pumpton.

CHAPTER V.

LADY PUMPTON's small parties were almost the only parties he ever went to. Restricting himself to this moderate indulgence of society, he naturally enjoyed himself with greater zest when he did go out. In his secret heart, though he would not have admitted the idea, in his secret heart there was a sort of excitement in the society of Lady Pumpton. It was singularly seductive after the monastic life in his Whitehall lodgings. Lady Pumpton made much of him; she was fond of him; she did not hesitate to show her preference, even when