CHAPTER X.

'If the canopy of heavens were a bow, and the earth the cord thereof and if Almighty God, the tremendous and glorious, were the unerring archer, to whom could the sons of Adam flee for protection?" The Caliph Aalee answered-' The sons of Adam must flee unto the Lord.'

EASTERN METAPHOR.

AT no period of her existence, perhaps, had Ellen been so happy as now. The clouds, and they were dark ones which had shadowed her early years, were breaking away from the bright sky of youth and innocence. Her labors were blessed at home and abroad, her mother had nearly regained her health and spirits, and her father, whose deviation from virtue had been the origin of all their woes, had set the seal to her happiness by a pledge of future abstinence from vice.

'I trusted in God, mamma,' said she, and he never fails to reward my faith.'

'Trust in him forever, Ellen,' was the reply, ( come weal, come want, come wo.' I have not given you the best lessons of submission, but you have learned them from a better teacher

-experience. Your poor father might receive strength from such a faith.'

'Dear papa! I do think he is beginning to look in the right place for aid. I have seen him shed many tears over the Bible,and at church when declarations of pardoning love have been cited, that could only flow from depths of devotional feeling. His mind is in the most fit condition to receive abiding religious impressions, and it is natural that, having thrown off the shackles of vice and folly, it should turn to some high and holy purpose. Papa may yet become, professedly and practically, a devout christian.'

"Oh "consummation devoutly to be wished!" It were the crown of earthly hope the success of all my prayers.'

Clifford entered at this moment, returned from his daily toils. He smiled faintly as he met their welcoming glances, and drawing a chair to the side of his wife, leaned his head on her shoulder.

You are weary,' said she. 'You have worked too hard.'

No it is not work-it is these everlasting

blue demons that are tormenting me.

Ellen, I

used to have a flute; it is a long time

since I

have played a note upon it-perhaps there is something in it to spirit away these dark thoughts.'

The flute was brought with much alacrity. Viola and Kathleen sat down together at his feet, and Ellen drew her chair within the circle. The soft dulcet melody of the instrument with the scarce distinguishable tones of Ellen's voice, floated upon the balmy evening air in the beautiful and subduing invitation, Come ye disconsolate.' Every breath was hushed, every pulse stilled and their spirits seemed half exhaled in the ethereal melody. Clifford's power failed him the big tears ran down his pale, worn cheeks, and his flute dropped silent from his lips. Ellen continued alone-no, not alone, for a familiar, alto voice joined in the chorus. It was Clement's. He had entered the apartment noiselessly and unobserved, and stood resting his arm upon Ellen's chair.

'Sit down, Clement; glad to see you-sit down. I have lost my wits in that witching hymn, but I must try and find them again, for I have a speech to make in the council. I'm glad you've come-you have been like a son to me, and shall share in all my confidence.

Heigho! I don't like the retrospect nor the prospect. You see my wife and Ellen took on so dreadfully,' as the old women say, because I made a brute of myself, that I finally thought I would try and be a man; but I find it no easy matter to humanize myself. Reason and conscience and love are pulling me one way -appetite and a beggarly pack of temptations another. Turner and his gang are full of their cajoleries-suicide haunts me, and madness gets hold on me. If I stay here two months longer, I am a ruined man!'

Then let us go away, father,' said Ellen. 'I think it will be much better for us.'

Go

I think so too,' said Mrs. Clifford. where there is nothing to remind us of past sorrows where we can hope for brighter days than are promised us here.'

'You are right,' said her husband. I did not hope to find you so ready. What say you, Clement? How like our plan of emigration?'

'Perhaps I can better answer your question, sir, when I know how far your emigrating propensity will lead you. Where will you go?"

'I will go to the wilderness, fell the forests, and forget my past life in Utopian projects. I have

for many years been wishing, but wanting resolution to go to Illinois. I begin, however, to think with Hamlet

What is man,

If his chief good and market of his time

Be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more.
Sure he that made us with such large discourse,
Looking before and after, gave us not
That capability and godlike reason
To rust in us unused.'

I can do little good here--I have little property-no influence. I will go where I am unknown-build up a reputable character-and with God's blessing, secure the wherewithal to feed old age.'

'I do not at all like to hear you talk of going so far away. There are many stopping places this side of Illinois, Mr. Clifford.'

But I have several

'I know that very well. reasons for my preference. In the first place, I wish to hide myself a few years from the world till my good habits are established. It is my nature to be led, and the bad are always exerting an active, it seems to me a more active influence than the good of society. A wicked man will compass sea and land to make one