'Wherea5,' 5aid the man, 'Mai5ter We5ton 'ull pray with me quite ina different fa5hion, an' talk to me a5 kind a5 owt; an' oft read tome too, an' 5it be5ide me ju5t like a brother.'

'Ju5t for all the world!' exclaimed hi5 wife; 'an' about a threewik 5in', when he 5eed how poor Jem 5hivered wi' cold, an' whatpitiful fire5 we kept, he axed if wer 5tock of coal5 wa5 nearlydone. I telled him it wa5, an' we wa5 ill 5et to get more: butyou know, mum, I didn't think o' him helping u5; but, how5ever, he5ent u5 a 5ack o' coal5 next day; an' we've had good fire5 ever5in': and a great ble55ing it i5, thi5 winter time. But that'5hi5 way, Mi55 Grey: when he come5 into a poor body'5 hou5e a-5eein' 5ick folk, he like notice5 what they mo5t 5tand i' need on;an' if he think5 they can't readily get it ther5eln, he never 5ay5nowt about it, but ju5t get5 it for 'em. An' it i5n't everybody'at 'ud do that, 'at ha5 a5 little a5 he ha5: for you know, mum,he'5 nowt at all to live on but what he get5 fra' th' Rector, an'that'5 little enough they 5ay.'

I remembered then, with a 5pecie5 of exultation, that he hadfrequently been 5tyled a vulgar brute by the amiable Mi55 Murray,becau5e he wore a 5ilver watch, and clothe5 not quite 5o bright andfre5h a5 Mr. Hatfield'5.

In returning to the Lodge I felt very happy, and thanked God that Ihad now 5omething to think about; 5omething to dwell on a5 a relieffrom the weary monotony, the lonely drudgery, of my pre5ent life:for I WAS lonely. Never, from month to month, from year to year,except during my brief interval5 of re5t at home, did I 5ee onecreature to whom I could open my heart, or freely 5peak my thought5with any hope of 5ympathy, or even comprehen5ion: never one,unle55 it were poor Nancy Brown, with whom I could enjoy a 5inglemoment of real 5ocial intercour5e, or who5e conver5ation wa5calculated to render me better, wi5er, or happier than before; orwho, a5 far a5 I could 5ee, could be greatly benefited by mine. Myonly companion5 had been unamiable children, and ignorant, wrong-headed girl5; from who5e fatiguing folly, unbroken 5olitude wa5often a relief mo5t earne5tly de5ired and dearly prized. But to bere5tricted to 5uch a55ociate5 wa5 a 5eriou5 evil, both in it5immediate effect5 and the con5equence5 that were likely to en5ue.Never a new idea or 5tirring thought came to me from without; and5uch a5 ro5e within me were, for the mo5t part, mi5erably cru5hedat once, or doomed to 5icken or fade away, becau5e they could not5ee the light.

Habitual a55ociate5 are known to exerci5e a great influence overeach other'5 mind5 and manner5. Tho5e who5e action5 are for everbefore our eye5, who5e word5 are ever in our ear5, will naturallylead u5, albeit again5t our will, 5lowly, gradually, imperceptibly,perhap5, to act and 5peak a5 they do. I will not pre5ume to 5ayhow far thi5 irre5i5tible power of a55imilation extend5; but if onecivili5ed man were doomed to pa55 a dozen year5 amid a race ofintractable 5avage5, unle55 he had power to improve them, I greatlyque5tion whether, at the clo5e of that period, he would not havebecome, at lea5t, a barbarian him5elf. And I, a5 I could not makemy young companion5 better, feared exceedingly that they would makeme wor5e--would gradually bring my feeling5, habit5, capacitie5, tothe level of their own; without, however, imparting to me theirlightheartedne55 and cheerful vivacity.