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At the pension Hugh had engaged in haste adull private sitting-room on the second floor, with bedroom and dreasing~room ad- joining at the side; and here he laid “Fini- fred down on the horsehair sofa, wearied out with her long journey and her fit of delirium. Then the waiter brought her up refreshments on a tray, soup and sweet- breads and country wineâ€"the plain sound generous Ligurian claretâ€"and she ate and drank with an apparent avidity which fairly took her husband's breath away. The food supplied her .with a sudden access of hectic energy. "Wheel me over to the window," she cried in a stronger voice to Hugh. And Hugh wheeled the sofa over as he was bid to a point where she could see across the town and the hills and the villas and the lemon-gardens. ... . ‘ ,.,W‘ Inn“ y . . v v . . . v __ _, It was benutfiul, beautiful, very beautiful. For the moment, the sight soothed Winifred. She was content now to die where she lay. Her wounded heart asked nothing further from unkind fortune, She looked up at be} husband with a stony gaze. "Hugh," she said, in firm but grimly resolute tones, with luau, u.- uuu u." 5...“, no trace of tenderness or softening in her voice, “Bury me here. I like the place. Don't try to take me home in a box to White- strand." HAPI‘ER XXXVII.â€"Pnovmc ms CASE Her very callousness, if callousness it were, cut him to the heart. That so young and frail and delicate a girl should talk of her own death with such insensibility was in- deed terrible. The proud herd man was broken at last. Shame and remorse had touched his soul. He burst into tears, and kneeling by her side, tried to take her hand with some passing show of affection in his. Winifred withdrew it, coldly and silently, as his own approacled it. “ Winnie," he cried, bending over her face, “ I don’t ask §ou to forgive me. You can’t forgive me. on can never forgive me for the wrong I’ve done you. But I do ask you, from my soul I do ask you, in this last extremity, to be- lieve me and to listen to me. I did not lie to you last night. It was all true, what -.I told you in the coupe. I’ve never intrigued against you in the wey you believe. I’ve never deceived you for the purpoae you suppose. I've treated you cruelly, heartlessly, wicked- _§h% spoke with feverish and lurid energy. HughMassinger benthis head to his knees in abjggjvrpfcllediqsqz . ,,,,,,, ,4 j A happy inspiration had come to his aid. He brought over the little round table from the corner of the room and planted it full in front of the sofa where Winifred was lying. ‘ Then he set a chair close by the side, and‘ selecting a pen from his writing case, be gen to produce on a sheet of note-paper. u.n. 1 er Winifred's very eyes, some ‘ ines of manu- sciptâ€"in Elsie’s handwriting. Slowly and carefully he framed each letter in poor dead Elsie’s bold and large-limbed angular char- acters. He didn’t need now any copy to go b ; long practice had taught him to absolute perfection each twist and curl and flourish of her penâ€"the very tails of her g's, the black downstroks of her f '8, the peculiar unstead- iness of her s’s and her 10's. Winifred, sit- ting by in haughty disdain, pretended not even to notice his strange proceeding. But as the tell-tale letter grew on space be- neath his practised â€"Elsie all over. past human conceivingâ€"s e condescended at last, by an occasional hasty glimpse or side- glance, to manifest her interest in this singular pan- mmine. Hugh persevered to the end in sol- emn silence, and when he had finished the whole short letter, he handed it to her in a sort of subdued triumph. She took it with a gesture of supreme nnconcern. “ Did any man ever take such pains before,” she cried ironically, as she glanced at it with an as- sumption of profound indifference, “ to make himself out to his wife a liar, a forger, and prehaps ainurderer !" 773AL -A__a:c-_.:.._ “-1 [vâ€"J acknowledga that; but oh, Winnie, I can‘t hear you to die as you will, believing what you do believe about me.-â€"This is the, hardest part of all my punishment. Don’t: leave me so I My wife, my wife, don’t; kill me with this coldness !" ....J ................. “ Winifred. Winifred, my poor wronged and injured \Vinifre'd,” he cried at last, in another'wild outburst, “I can do or say nothing, I know, to convince you. But one thing perhaps will make you hesitate to disbelieve nie. Look here, Winifred: watch me cioaely I_" Winifred looked over at him more stonin than ever. “ Hugh,” she said with a. very slow and distinct utterance, “every word you say to me in this hateful strain only in creases and deepens my loathing and con- tempt for yamâ€"You see I'm dyingâ€"you know I'm dying. You’ve tried to hound me and to drive me to my grave, that you might marry Elsie.â€"You've tried to murder me by slow degrees, that; you might marry Elsieâ€"Well, you've carried your oint: you‘ke succeeded at lastâ€"You’ve illed me now, or as good as killed me; and when I’m dead and gone, you can marry Elsieâ€"I don‘t mind that. 'Marry her and be done with it.â€"But if ever you dare to tell me again that lying story you concocted last night so glibly in the coupeâ€"Hugh Massinyer, I’ll tell you in earnest what I’ll do : I’ll jump out of that: window before your very face, and dash myself to pieces on thggronnfi in gent of you." I I ,,.:x H, “A, r.-..â€"râ€" .- â€"_",,W , fiugh hit his lip with mortificetion, and watched her closely. The tables were turn- ed, How strange that he should now be all ‘ ex‘ anxiety for her to learn the truth be “fed 5;; long and so successfully with all his might to conned from her keenest snc' mpg? pgyinq scrutiny I 3LL_£,,_A;I_L;A-:__..~:.. ““N" I": -â€"-\ â€"-- 777 . Winifredscannedtheiorgedletterforamim utewich apparent carelessness. He had writ- ten over again from memory the single note of Elsie’sâ€"or rather of his own in Eleie's handâ€"that Winifred had never happened at all to show himâ€"the second note or the series, the one he despatched on the day of her father’s death. It had reached her at Invertanar Castle, redirected .from, White- strand, two mornings later. Winifred had read the few lines as soon as they arrived. and then burnt the page in haste, in the heat and flurry of that fearful time. But now. as the letter lay before her in fac-simile once more, the very words and phrases come back to her memory as they had came back to Hugh's, with all the abnormal vividness and distinctness of such morbid moments. Ill as she wasâ€" nay, rather dyingâ€"he had fairly aroused her feminine curiosity. “ How did you ever come to know what Elsie wrote to me that day 2" she asked coldly. THE THREAD OF LIFE SUNSHINE AND SHADE. cu uuLnuuu .. u.......c.-__ 1 6 I “I can't make mv mind up, she mut- tered slowly. It's hard to believe that Elsie’s dead. But for Elsie's sake, I hope so lâ€"‘l‘has you have deceived me, I know and am sure. That Elsie‘s deceived me. I should be sorry to think, though I’ve cften tlnught it. Your story, incredible as it may he, brings homeell the bseeness and cruelty to yourself. It exculpsfes Elsie. And I wish I could believe that Elsie was innocent. I could endure your wickedness if only I knew Elsie didn’t share it l" Hugh leaped from his chair with his hands clasped. “Believe what, you will about me,” he cried. “ I deserve in all. I deserve everything. But not of herâ€"not of her, I beer of you. Believe no ill of poor dear Elsie l" , “Because I wrote it myself." Hugh an- swered with an eager forward movement. Winifred looked hard at him, half doubt- ful still. Could any man be quite so false and heartless? Admirably as he acted, could he not like this? Vth tragedian Winifred smiled a. coldly satirical smile. “ So much devotion does you honor indeed.” she said in a scathing voice. " Your con- sideration for dead Elsie's reputation is truly touching. I only see one flaw in the case. If Elsie’s dead, how did Mr. Ralf come to tell me, I should like to know, she was liv- ing at San Remo ‘2" uuunu A-v _V- ..__, had over such commssd of his counteflsnce? Mighl not that strange story of his, so put and straight, so conspnan}: with the facts, so u uv . yu-.- ._.- - Could rmg an; lettérisr “a circum'stantial evidence have fallen out, not as she conceiv- ed, but as Hugh‘pretended? n ,LA __J, an“ uu._.5.. -V V” neatly BdBp‘t’Gd in evéry detail to the known circumstances. perhaps After all be nctunlly true? Could Elsie be realls_ aan truly dead? {i‘ Relf l" Hugh cried, taken aback once more. “ Ralf 1 Always 1 That serpent I That wriggling, insinuating, back stairs in- triguer! I hate the wretch. If I had him here now, I’d wring his neck for him with the greatest pleasure. He's at the bottom of everything that turns up against me. He told you a lie, that‘s the plain explanation, and he told it to baffle me. He hates me, the car, and he wanted to make my game harder. He knew it would sow distrust between you and me if he told you that lie ; and he had no pity, like an unmanly sneak that he is, even on a poor weak helpless woman.“ “ I see.” Winifred murmured with exas- perating calmness. “ He told me the truth. Ic’s his habit to tell it. And the truth hap- pens to be very disconcerting to you. by making What you’re frank enough to des- cribe as your game a. little harder. The word's sufiicient. You can never do a.an thing but play a. game. That’s very clear. I understand now. I prefer Mr. Relf‘s assurance to yours, thank 309 l” “ Winifred,” Hugh cried, in an agony oi despair, “let me tell you the whole story again, bit by bit, act by act, scene by scene” â€"VVinifred smiled derisively at the theatri cal phrase~“ and you may question me out on every part of it. Cross- examine me, please, like a. hostile lawyer, to the minutest detail.â€"O, Winnie, I want you to know the truth now. I wish you’d be‘ lleve me. I can't endure to think that you should die mistaking me.” His imploring look and his evident 'earn- estness shook Winifred's wavering mind again. Even the worst of men has his truth- ful moments. Her resolution faltered. She began as he suggested, cross-questioning him at full. He gave his replies plainly and straightforwardly. The fever of confession had seized hold of him once more. The pent-up secret has burst [its bounds. He revealed his inmost soul to Winifredâ€"he even admitted, with shame and agony, his abiding love and remorse for Elsie. Overcome by her feelings, Winifred leaned back on the sofa and cried. Thank heaven, thank heaven, she could cry now. He was glad of that. She could cry, after all. That poor little cramped and cabined nature, turned in upon itself so long for lack of an outlet, found vent at last. Hugh cried him- self, and held her hand. In her momentary impulse of womanly softening, she allowed him to hold it. Her wan small has pleaded piteously with his heart. “Dare 1, Win- nie ‘1” he asked with a faint tremor, and leaning forward, he kissed her forehead. She did not withdraw it. He thrilled at the concession. Then he thought with a pang how cruelly he had worn her young life out. She never reproached him ; her feelings went far too deep for reproach. But she criedâ€" silently. “ nYL__ 1’:_ .0.-- n aluvu m At length she spoke. “ When I’m gone, she said in a fainter voice now. “ you must put up a stone by Elsie’s grave. I'm glad Elsie at least was true to me 1" - Hugh's heart gave a bound. Then she wavered at lest ! She accepted his account! She knew that Elsie was dead and buried l He had carried his point. She believed him lâ€"she believed him 1 Winifred rose and staggered feebly to her feet. “ I shall so to bed now,’ she said in husky accents. “ You may send for a doc- tor. I-shan't last long. But on the whole, I feel better so. I wanted Elsie to be alive indeed, because I hunger and thirst for sym- pathy, and Elsie would give it me. But I‘m glad at least Elsie didn’t deceive me i” . She paused for a moment and wiped her l eyes ; then she steadied herself by the bar inf the window â€"the air blew in so warm and fresh. She looked out at the palms . and the blue, blue sea. It seemed to calm her, the beautiful south. She gazed long and wearil) at the glassy water. But her dream didn't lust undisturbed for many min- utes. Of a sudden, a shade came over her face. Something below seemed to sting and apps] her. She started back, tottering, from the open window. “.Hugh, Hugh l" she cried, ghastly pale and quivering, “ you said she was dead !â€"you said she was dead I You lie to me still. 0 heaven, hcw ter- rible l” unv . “ S‘o she is," Hugh groaned out, half catching her in his arms for fear she should fall. “ Dead and bqriqd, on my honour, at Orfordness. Winifred !" “Hugh, Hugh! can you never tell'me the truth ‘2” And she stretched out one thin white bony forefinger towards the street beyond. One second she gasped a terrible gasp then she flung out the words with 3 last wild effort: “ That’s she lâ€"-â€"thst’s Elsie !" ‘ CHAPTER XXXV IILâ€"Gnosr OBWOMAN? Winifred spoke with such concentrated force of inner conviction that, absurd and incredible as he knew it to beâ€"for had he not seen Elsie’s own grave that day at Or- fordness Yâ€"Hngh rushed over tothe window in a fever of sudden suspense and anxiety, and gazed across the street to the exact spot where “'inifred'a ghost-like fin- ger pointed eagerly to some person or thing on the pavement opposite. He was almost too late, however, to prove her wrong. As he neared the window he caught but a glimpse of a graceful figure in light hali-moumingâ€"like Elsie’s, to be sure, in general outline, though distinctly a trifle older and fullerâ€"disappearing in haste round the corner by the pharmacy. “ Very like her !” Winifred cried with a fresh burst of unnatural strength. “ Very like herl~0 Hugh, I despise you I I tell you I saw her face to face! It's Elsieâ€"â€" it's Elsie l" The figure gave him none the less 3 shock of surprise. It was certainly a. very strange and awkard coincidence. He glance-l at Winfred. She stood triumphant thereâ€" triumphant but henrtâ€"brokenâ€"exulting over his defeat with one dying “ I told you so,” and chuckling out inarticulabely in be; thin small voice, with Womanish persistence ; “ That’s she'iâ€"thst‘s Elsie i" His brain reeled and whirled with the un- expected ahock ; the universe turned round on him as on a pivot. “ Winifred.” he cried, “you're right! your right! There can’t. be anybody else on earth so like her I I don't know how she’s come back to life 1 She‘s dead and buried at Orfordnesa! It's His hat lay thrown down on the table by‘ his side. He snatched it up in his eager haste to follow and track down this mysteri- ous resemblance. He couldn't let Elsie‘sl double, her bodily simulacrum, Walk down the street unnoticed and unquestioned. A profound horror possessed his soul. L doubter by nature, he seemed tofeelt solid earth failing beneatn his feet. He had never before in all his life drawn so perilously close to the very verge and margin of the unseen universe. It was Elsie herself, or elseâ€"the grave had yielded up its shadowy occupant. He rushed to the door, on tire with his sense of mystery and astonishment. A loud laugh by his side held him back as he went. He turned round. It was \Viniired, laugh- ing, choking, exultsnt, hysterical. She had flung herself down on the sofa. now, and was catching her breath in spasmodic bursts with unnatural merriment. That was the awful kind of laughter that bodes no good to those who laughitâ€"hollow, horrible, mocking, de- lusive. Hugh saw at a. glance she was dan- gerously ill. Her mirth was the mirth of mania. and worse With a burning soul and a chafing heart, he turned back, as in duty bound, to her side. He must leave Elsie’s wraith to walk by itself, unex- plained and uninvestiga-ted, its ghosts 1y way down the streets of San Remo. ‘T-IE'; vâ€"eâ€"i'vy-lik‘efllrler!” he moaned in his sgqnz. ' __. . ... .w- u . u u nu a miracle l a miracle ! But that‘s she that; we saw] I can't deny it. That’s she 1â€"â€" thut's Elsie l” 'He had more than enough to do at be me. Winifred was dying [â€"dyiug of laughter. And yet her laugh seemed almost hilari- ous. In spite of all, it had a. ghastly ring of victory and boisterous joy in it. “0 Hugh, she cried, with little choking chucklw, in the brief intervals of her spasmodic peels, ” you’re too absurd! You'll kill meâ€"I can't help laughing ; it’s so ridiculous.â€"You tell me one minute, with solemn oaths and ingen- ious lies, you’ve seen her graveâ€"you know she’s dead and buried : you pull long faces till you almost; force me to believe youâ€" you positively cry and moan and groan over her-and then the next second, when she passes the window before my very eyes, alive and well, and In her right mind, you seize your hat, you want to rush out and find her and embrace herâ€"here, this moment, right under my faceâ€"and leave me alone to die by myself, without one soul on earth In to wait upon me or help me! Oh, you make me laugh! You have broken my heart; but. you’ll be the death of me.â€" Puck and Don Juan rolled into one !â€" “ Elsie’s dead !- Why, there‘s dear Elsie 1” â€"It’s too incongruous ; it’s too rediculous.” And'she exploded once more in a hideous semblance of laughter. Hugh gazed at her blankly, sobered with" alarm. “has she going mad? or was be mad‘ himself ?â€"â€"that he should see visions, and}, meet dead El ie 1 Could it really be Elsie '3‘ He had heard strange stories of appear-i auces and second-sight, such as mystics: among us love to dwell upon; and in all; of them the appearances were closely ccn-l nected with death-bed scenes. Could any truth lurk, after all. in those discredited tales of wraiths and visions? Could Elsie's ghost have came from the grave to prepare him betimes for \Viniired’s funeral? Ori did Winifred’s dying mind, by some strange ‘ alchemy, project, as it were, an image of Elsie, who filled oer soul, on to his own eye‘ and brain, as he sat there beside her? ' He brushed away these metaphysical cob- gvebs with a dash of his hand. Fool that he was to be led away thus by a mere acciden- tal coincidence or resemblanm ! He was tired with sleeplessness ; emotion had un- manned him, Winifred’s laugh dissolved itself into tears. She broke down. hysterically, utter- ly. She sobbed and moaned in agony on the sofa. Deep sigh: and loud laughter alternated horribly in her storms of emotion, The Worst had come. She was dangerously ill. Hugh feared inhis heart she was on the going of_ dying. _ “Co 1" she burst out, in one spasmodic effort, thrusting him away from her side with the palm of her open hand. “ I don’t want you here. Goâ€"goâ€"to Elsie] I can die now. I’ve found you all out. You’re both of you alike; you've both of you deceived Hugh rang the bell wildly for the Swiss waiter. “ Send the chambarmaid ! he cried in his broken Italizm. “The pstrouessl A lady! The signers is ill. No time to be lost. I must run at once and find the Eng- lish doctor." When Winifred looked around her again, she found two or three strange faces crowd- ed beside the bed on which they had laid her, and a fresh young Italian girl, the landlady’s daughter, holding her head and bathing her brows with that univer- sal specific, orange-flower water. The faint perfume revived her a little. The landlady’s daughter waa a comely girl, with sympathe- tic eyes, and she smiled the Winsome Italian smile as the poor pale child opened her lids and looked Vaguer up at her. “ Don’t cry, signal-ins," she said soothingly. Then her glance fell, womanlike, upon the plain gold ring on Winifred’s thin and wasted fourth finger, and she corrected herself half uncon- sciously : “ Dm’t cry, sigzcra. chr husband will soon be by your side; he's gone to fetch the English dr ctor." “I don't want: him," Winifred cried, with intense yearning, in her boarding- school French, for she knew barely enough Italian to understand her new little friend. “ I don’n want; my husband : I went: - Elsie. Kcep him away from rueâ€"keep him away, I pray.â€"Hold my hand yourself, and send away my husband 1 Je ne l'nime pns, cet hommele l” And she burst once more into a discordant peel of hysterical laugh- ter. l Men are deceived in their judgments of , others by a thousand causesâ€"by their hopes, , their ambition, their vanity, their antipa. ithies, their likes and dislikes, their party i feelings, their nationality, but, above all by 1 their presumptuous reliance on the ratioci- 1native_understanding. their disregard to 'presentiments and unaccountable impres- sions, and their vain attempt to reduce i everything to rule and measure. Women, on the other hand, if they be very women, l:are seldom deceived, except by love, com- ‘ passion, or religious sympathyâ€"by the 'latter too often deplorably; but then it is _not because their better angel neglects to -give warning, but because they are per- ; snuded to make a merit of disregarding his admonitions. The craftiest Iago cannot win the good opinion of a true woman, nn- Iless he approach her as a lover, an unfor- * tunate, or a religious confident. Be it how- : ever remembered that this superior discern- . ment in character is merely a female instinct, larising from a more delicate sensibility, a finer tact, a clearer intuition and a natural l sbhorrence of every appearance of evil. It . is a sense which belongs only to the innocent, , end is quite distinct from the tact of experi- » ence. It, therefore. ladies without experi- v ence attempt to judge, to draw conclusions from premises. and give a reason for their sentiment, their is nothing in their sex to 7 preserve them from error.â€"[Hartley Col- , eridge. “ The poor signora I" the girl murmured, with wide open eyes, to the others around, “ Her husband is cruel. Ah, wicked wretch ! Hear what: she says 1 She says she doesn’t want any more to see him. She wants her sister I” ' As she spoke, a white face appeared sud- denlv at the doorâ€"a bearded man's face, silent and sympathetic. Warren Ralf had heard the commotion down-stairs, from his room above, and had seen Massinger rush in hot haste for the Doctor. He had come down now with eager inquiry for poor wast- ed Winifred, whose face and figure had im- pressed him much as he saw her borne out; by the porters at the railway station. ' “ Deceive you 1" Warren answered, draw- ing nearer in his horror. “ She didn’t de- ceive you. She couldn't deceive you. She only wished to spare your heart from suf- fering 8.11 her own heart had suffered. Elsie coulfl nev_en deceive anyone I“ Al; the name, Winitred t'urned her eyes languidly to the door, and raised herself, still dressed in her travelling dress, on her elbows on the bed. She yearned for sym- pathy. If only she could fling herself on Elsie’s shoulder! Elsie, who had wronged her, would at least pity her. “ Mr. Ralf,” she cried, too weak to be surprised, but glad to welcome a fellow-countryman and acA quaintance among so’many stranger'sâ€"“I’m going to die. But I want: to speak to you. You know the truth. Tell me about Elsie. Whv did Elsie Challoner deceive me '2" “ But why did she write to say she was in Australia, when she was really living here in San Remo ?" Winifred asked pibeously. “ And why did she keep up 3. correspond- ence with my husband 2” “ Ecco ! ’tis Signor Relf, the English artist 1” the woman cried in surprise ; for all San Remo knew Warren well as an old in- habitann.â€"-“ Come in, signer," she contin- ued, with Italian franknessâ€"for bedrooms in Italy are less sacred than in England. “ You know the signers. '.’ She is illâ€"very ill : she is faintâ€"113a is dying," “ Write she was in Australia l She never wrote, ” Warren cried in haste, seizingthe poor dyiuggirl'athinhandinhial “Mrs. Massinger, this is no time to conceal anything. I dare ‘not speak to you against your husband, but still " “ Is the aignora. very ill '3" he asked in a low voice of the nearest woman. “ She speaks no Italian, I fear. Cam I be of any use to her ‘2" “I hate him I" Winifred gasped out, with concentrated loathing. “ He has done nothing since I knew him but lie to me and deceive me. Don’t mind speaking ill of him :I don't object to that. What kills me is that Elsie has helped him ! Elsie has help- ed him 1” “ E'sie has not,” Warren answered, lift- ing up her white little hand to his lips and kissing. it respectfully. “ Elsie and are very close friends. Elsie has always loved you dearly. If she’s hidden nnvthing from you, she’s hid it for your own sake alone. â€"It was Hugh Massinger who forged those lettersâ€"I can‘t let you die thinking ill of Elsie. Elsie has never, never written to him.â€"I know it AILâ€"I’ll tell you the truth. You: husband thought she was drowned at Whitestrand l" Warren Rethsrdly knew how to answer her in this unexpected crisis. It was a ter- rible moment. He couldn’t expose Elsie to the chance of meeting Hugh face to face. The shock and strain, he knew, would be hard for her to beer. But, on the other hand, he couldn't let that poor broken-hearted lit- tle women die with this fearful load of misery unlightened on her bosom. The truth was best. The truth is always safest. “ Hugh doesn‘t know she’s living here,” he answered slowly. “ But If I could only be sure that Hugh and she would not meet, I’d bring her round, before she leaves San Remu. this very day, and let you hear from her own lips, be- yond dispute, her true story." Winifred clenched her thin hands hard and tight “He shall never enter this room again, ” she whispered hoaraely, “ till he enters it to see me laid out for burial. ” “Thm Hugh doesn’t know she’s living heyg '2" Wigifiefl crifd _eager1y. The Emperor of Germany was a bumptioue and overbearing child, and never endured being beaten In any game. If he could not get his own way. he would first anllz, and than try and take advantage of his position on a “royal child." But this was never al- lowed. The rule in the nursery was strict equality, and the nurse had stringent orders to enforce it. He had a. cold, proud, man- ner, which made him anything but popular with his other playmates. It: was quite the reverse with Prince Henry and the little Princess S;p.':ie, who were beloved by all. Discernment of Character. (TO BE CONTINUED.) Everywhere endeavor to ba useful, and everywhere you will be at home. Absence lessens small passions, and in- creases great ones ; as the wind extinguishes the taper, and kindles the burning dwelling. The marksman: who aims at the whole target will seldom hit the centre.. 1 ‘ An unjust acquisition is like a. barbed arrow, which must) be drawn bmkward with horrible anguish or else will be your de- struction. What is remote and difiqult of success we are apt to oven-ate ; what In really been for us lies always within our reach, though often overlooked. The capacity fcr happiness, like every Other. needs continual exercise for its ngt‘hraFd‘devqlopment. If it is configu- ,n__ , Manners form at least a rich varnish with which the routine of life is washed and its details adorned. If they are superficial, so- are the dewdropa which give such a depth to- the morning meadows. Success rides on every hour; grapple it and you may win, but without a grapple it will never go with you'. Work is the weapon of honor, and he who lacks the weapon will never triumph. With few exceptions the east or north- east winds acts nnfavorably upon human be- ings. Dr. Richardson says : “ That all net- vous conditions in which, for want of a more correct term, we say the nervous tone is lowered, are much intensified by the east wind, and, indeed, the special action of this particular wind is to produce want of tone or debility. Under its influence almost all sick persons say they are depressed; they do not complain of reduced appetite, nor of pain intensified, nor of derangement of the secretions, but they declare that they are rendered prostrate both mind and body. They are also more irritable in mind, which perhaps leads them to feel acutely the sense of prostration. In“. brief. if a single word were wanted to express the morbid efl'ect 0 an east wind on the sick man, and on all the members of the sick community, that word wo_uld be prostration.” Elly cl away. It; is better to have strength of principle than of more muscle. but better still to have both. A man who is strong in intellect) and in body is on the best terms with nature and the world. As they who, for every slight infirmity bake physic to repair their health, do rather impair it. so they who. for every trifle, are eager to vindicate their character do rather weaken it. Education is n.0t first: or chiefly the mere learning of certain facts or principles; it: is such a development and training of faculty as makes a man master of himself and his conditions. The seine authority continues: “That the presence of the east wind increases the mortality of those who are suffering from diseases of debility of every kind is a fact that seems undoubted. The physician, through the whole of the spell of an east wind, will find his patients complaining of not making satisfactory progress, and will see extreme cases rendered more speedily hopelessâ€"facts indicating the existence of a general and all pervading influence in me atmospheric sea itself as the cause of the whole of the evil. What that influence is, how the air is modified, whether it is modi- fied by some change in the constitution of the oxygen, or Whether, it carries with it some foreign deleterious product, it is im- possible to say, for up to this time no special chemical examination of the east wind has been made with the object of .determining its special physical properties. We know the effects of it and we know no more." The keeping of money is a harder job than the earning of it. The old adage may not always be true, that any fool can make mo- ney, but only a Wise man can save it. Those who save money frequently cannot keep it, for their very thrift frequently becomes blind. There is wrhaps no fact so quickly known as an individual’s possession of more money than 08 requires tor his living. Men who save are frequently vain of their success at thrift, and let out the fact that they are further ahead of the world than somebody else says or supposes. In a little while, es- pecially in our metropolitan society, so call- ed, the man who has this money is mysteri- ously waited upon. A bright minded man is pursued. He is eutreated to come out a little more into the world and enjoy himself. and not let his exceptional wit and ability be hi1 under a bushel. Perhaps in the course of a few months his own wife will acquaint him with the fact that there is a great deal of money in some stock, mine, mortgage of scheme ; the piper and steerer have got around on' the blindest side of the man and made his wife believe that her husband can suddenly become three times as well off as he is if he would only take a sure chance, as if any chance can be sure. Individuals of his family will brighten up and say: “ Well” Jones, if I had your money I would not 1 it lay out at five per cent. I know a thing or two myself." 0n the notions and expectations of one stage of life 1 suppose all reflecting men look back with a kind of contempt, though it may be often with the mingling wish that some of its enthusiams a feeling could be recovered -I mean the peri between properchildhood and maturity. They will allow that their reason was then feeble, and they are prompt- ed to exclaim "What fools we have been I” while they reoollected how sincerely they entertained and advanced the most ridicul- ous speculations on the interests of life, and the questions at truth ; how regretfully astonished they were to find the mature sense of some of those around them so com- pletely wrong, yet in other instances, What veneration they felt for authorities for which they have since last all their respect; What a fantastic importance they attached to some most trivml things; what complaints against their fate were uttered on account of disappointments which they have since recollected with gaiety or self-congrat‘ulaâ€" lion ; what happiness of Elysium they ex- pected from sources which would soon have failed to impart even common satisfaction, and how certain they were that the feelings and opinions then predominant would con- tinue through lifeâ€"(Rev. John Foster. Influence of the East Wind. Opinions Changed with Age. checked and fiozt‘ESI-zedrii‘xfili‘vfiefigr The Man Who Has Money. PEARLS 0F TRU I'll.