was a sudden silence, and all the party at the feast turned towards him to decide the disputed question. Ernest walked firmly up to the head of the table, very pale, for what he had resolved to do went sorely against human nature; and few efforts are so painful as to trample down pride, and humble ourselves in the sight of the world.

"Let him sit down," said Ernest to the schoolmaster.

The children silently made room for their companion. "Jack Lawless," continued the peer, turning towards the boy, and speaking rapidly, whilst he could not raise his own eyes from the ground, "I regret that I unjustly

called you a liar; I recall the word now before all who heard it."

Nothing can describe the astonishment of the whole assembly as they listened to this apology from the young lord. "Brave boy, well done! He's a soldier that will not flinch!" muttered old Mr. Searle, with cordial approbation.

"He must be wild," exclaimed Mrs. Hope, "to expose himself so before a company like this! To acknowledge such a fact! Why, I would rather have died than have disgraced myself so before the world!" The lady,

however experienced in the concerns of this life, in spiritual things was more ignorant than a child, or she would have known that disgrace is in the commission of a fault, but never in the frank avowal of it.

CHAPTER XXV.

THE LAKE AMONG THE ROCKS.

"Now I saw in my dream, that by this time the pilgrims were entering into the country of Beulah."-Pilgrim's Progress.

JHE painful incident recorded in the last chapter had been to Ernest one of the most instructive events of his life, and the young lord felt that

it was so. He recognized the parental care of

his heavenly Father, in openly rebuking his pride; and was now so well aware of the peculiar dangers that attended his position, and how much they were increased by the weak indulgence of his preceptor, that he heard almost without regret, on the following day, that having come into some property by the will of a relative, Mr. Sligo was about to resign his present charge.

Oh, how gladly would Fontonore have recalled his first friend, him whose love was too sincere for flattery! This, however, was a thing quite beyond his hopes, and the boys tried to content themselves with the thought that they might soon have the pleasure of seeing their late tutor. Mr. Searle had told Ernest, when he met

him at the castle, that he expected Mr. Ewart on a visit ; and though the young peer knew that the clergyman would not come to Fontonore, as such a step might be displeasing to his uncle, he determined to go over himself to Silvermere, as soon as he should hear that his friend had arrived there.

One bright, lovely spring morning, with this idea on his mind, Ernest sauntered forth in the direction of Mr. Searle's house. Very beautiful was the scenery which lay between-so beautiful that the spot was often visited by strangers, who came from many miles round to see it.

A small lake, so small that we might better term it a pool, lay embosomed in high rocks, that hung over it as though to look at their rough crags reflected in its mirror. From this beautiful little piece of water, sleeping in their dark shadow, was fed a rapid stream, that, rushing onward, as if weary of its tranquil repose, made its way for some short distance through an opening in the rocks, and then flinging aloft showers of spray, fell with a bold leap over some lower crags into a wider lake in the valley below. There was a wooden bridge over this stream, some way above the cascade, and on this bridge Ernest had often delighted to take his station, where, on the right hand, he could see the quiet upper lake, so carefully sheltered and guarded from the wind by the tall rocks that towered around it; on the left, the wider sheet which lay outspread far below to receive

It was a

the rivulet which flowed beneath his feet. lovely spot, and a favourite haunt of one who loved to look up through nature unto nature's God. Ernest thought of the current of human life as he watched the waters bursting forth from the secluded, shady pool, rolling for some brief minutes through a narrow, darkened chasm; then, as they emerged into the sunny light, plunging with a deep and sudden fall to mix and lose themselves in the brighter waters that lay glittering in the vale.

It was some time now since Ernest had visited this scene, and this morning he felt inclined to bend his steps thither. He feared that his constant round of occupations-his studies, even his charitable pursuits—had made him of late too much neglect that quiet communing with God and his own heart, which should be a pilgrim's privilege and delight. Ernest, therefore, did not ask even Charles to accompany him; peaceful meditation on the highest subjects that can engage the mind is best enjoyed, is perhaps only enjoyed, in solitude and seclusion.

Ernest was tranquilly, but deeply happy. His discovery of his infirmity had served rather to humble than to depress him, If he had less confidence now in himself, he had more than ever in his Saviour; and what sweet security came with the thought that it was on no arm of flesh that he rested! He who had loved him