the husband; "but old Davie read parts of it out, strong and clear against statecraft and priestcraft; and I mean to know what like the book is."

"You'll not be reading it to-night?" interposed Mary.

"I don't know why I should not," said the man, thoughtfully; "but 'tis getting late; so we'll put it by to-night, lass. But, Mary, I cannot get out of my thoughts the questions that lad put to the lecturer this night—'What shall be after death?' 'If a man die, shall he live again?' I promise it puzzled him, lass."

Many days passed away, and I saw but little of my new owner. Early in the morning before the sun had risen, he rose to take his way to the busy factory; and, except that he returned to his midday meal, he was generally absent until long after night closed in. Meanwhile, I had been placed on a shelf, with some other books, and was left in silence.

It was observable that in the young wife of my owner were pleasant qualities, which made her a suitable help-meet for her husband. Merry was she, at times, as though the troubles of the world had hitherto pressed lightly upon her; and it seemed also that the love she bore to her husband made her think little of the cares which belong to married life. Yet were there times when her countenance was disturbed with strong and angry passions, and hasty words were uttered by her lips.

It was plain, also, that the young wife felt but little sympathy with the aspirations of her husband for worldly wisdom-that wisdom which he sought by converse with books, and by listening to such instructions, in lecture-rooms and halls, as those of which he had spoken. Little cared she for these things and among the few causes of her discontent and occasional impatience was this-that her young husband persevered by such means in obtaining and increasing in knowledge.

It was apparent also, that the young wife of my owner exercised but little of that commendable thrift and wise forethought in the things of the life that now is, which I am commissioned to enjoin on all concerned, and which is depicted by me in the protraiture I give of "the virtuous woman whose price is above rubies, and whom the heart of her husband may safely trust, in that she will do him good and not evil all the days of her life."* Little of this, I fear, could have been found in her, so that, although free from the more pressing and painful privations of extreme poverty, the discomfort of carelessness and improvidence was rarely absent from that dwelling.

And yet further might it have been observed of the young wife, that, though disregarding the more solid preference of her husband for mental solace from the daily labour of his hands, she had a strong attachment to recreations less suited to domestic *Prov. xxxi. 10, 12.

peace; and in this love of exciting pleasure was she countenanced by many companions and acquaintances, so that it would not have been difficult to foretell that the wedded life of my present owner, though it had begun smoothly, would not be a scene of unruffled tranquillity throughout its course. And, alas! I was destined, in accordance with the warning of the Saviour, to be for a time the occasion of strife between them.

CHAPTER XV.

FIRST INQUIRIES.

"ALWAYS books, lad."

The words were uttered by Mary Vickers in a tone half kindly and half complaining. Her husband had been sitting an hour by his fireside, with me in his hand, at intervals turning over my pages, on which shone the feeble light of a lamp: it was one of the evenings which he passed in his own home.

"Nay, Mary, not always reading. Much working and little reading, I think: and better reading at by-times than drinking. Here's something that's gay true," he added, meaning the words on which his eyes were just then fixed; "shall I read it out, lass ?"

If he pleased he might, she said; and these

words fell from his lips: "Who hath woe? who hath sorrow? who hath contentions? who hath babbling? who hath wounds without cause? who hath redness of eyes? They that tarry long at the wine; they that go to seek mixed wine. Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth its colour in the cup, when it moveth itself aright. At the last it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder.'* I have heard these words before," Vickers added, thoughtfully; "though I do not remember where at this minute."

"At one of your temperance meetings, I guess,' said Mary; "'tis like what they talk there. But what book have you got hold of now?" she asked, suspiciously, as it seemed. And, more sharply, without waiting for a reply, after glancing at my now worn and dingy covering, she cried out, "Why, lad, you have got the Bible reading.”

"Ay, Mary: I promised old Davie I'd look into it; and, by what I can see, there's the right sort of stuff in it, here and there."

"I wish old Davie had been minding his own business, when he set you up with that book, Zech," said the young wife, with a look of vexation, which, together with the tone in which the words were uttered, caused my owner to turn towards her a puzzled countenance.

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Why, Mary, lass, what ails you?" he asked; "don't you like the book?"

*Prov. xxiii. 29-31.

"I have naught to say against the book, lad," replied his wife, "but against your reading of it, and its being in the house; I wish you would not, and it had not been."

"Eh, Mary, it had almost gone out of my mind that you were brought up a Papist," said the husband; "but it isn't much of religion any way that has troubled us since we came together; so make yourself easy, lass. The Bible won't harm us, whatever your priests may say."

"I don't know that," said the wife; "and may be, if I have given up religion for a gay bit, I might take to it again some day; and I would not like to have it on my conscience that I or mine had had aught to do with the book. So just put it by, lad, and have done with it."

"No, no; that will not do," said my owner: "you may do as you please, but I shall have no priest laying down the law like that, and no woman either, though 'tis you yourself, Mary," he added, laughing.

Little more passed at that time, and soon my owner laid me aside; yet there might have been perceived on the countenance of the wife the look of disquiet which had before marked it, on the first evening of my entrance into the house. And it was plain now that early teaching had wrought in her mind a superstitious terror of me, as of an enemy to be ever shunned on pain of eternal loss. And ere long the prejudice she had conceived