brilliant reputation among her friends for dexterity and cleverness of fingers; and she is really quite heroic in her subscriptions. She could afford all that she gives in this way out of her private moneys, if she liked; but she could never bring her heart up to that measure. So she makes her friends pay for her amusements in the way of fancy-work and nicknackery; and how much soever she is laughed at, she honestly believes this to be true Christian charity, and that she is laying up for herself treasures everlasting for every little penwiper made useless by beads and plush, which she sells for half a crownextreme price of material, under fourpence. Another gives charity out of her savings; and her savings come from her bargains. She goes to market herself, and does all her own shopping; and when she has been clever enough to mulct the tradesman of a few pence or a few shillings, as the case may be, she puts the parings she has gained, neither honestly nor nobly, into the pocket of her charities, and robs Peter that she may pay Paul. She thinks it no wrong if, all in the way of business, she cheats a poor trader of his lawful margin of profits, provided she throws the proceeds of her theft into the treasury of the Lord. She has no idea of the Lord not quite liking such addition to His treasury; of a widow's mite honestly got and generously given ranking far above guineas of gold of such questionable mintage. To her the thing is her charity, not the means by which she performs it; and she never thinks for a moment of what the poor trader must feel when he watches the melting away of the margin of profit of which she has cheated him. And such a one has no mercy. She will haggle with a miserable flower-woman for a half penny or a penny quite as keenly as she will quarrel with a cabman when she pays him his exact fare only, as she stops twenty paces short of the three miles; as she will bargain with the West-end mercer for so much discount, if her bill comes to so much. She gives her savings to charity, she says; and she accounts herself blessed among women for the dexterity with which she can transform a sin into the semblance of a virtue. But she is none the less a skinflint of the most unblushing kind; and words which are by no means blessings follow her footsteps wherever she turns. A third of the same order pares her very charities. She gives away both food and clothing on occasions: but the food is the poorest and the clothing the meanest she can find. Her conscience has never dictated to her any doctrine on quality; and so long as she obeys the precept of giving, she thinks herself justified in skinning her charitable flints as closely as she can. Quite good enough,' she says, when she is settling the price she means to pay against the articles she is going to give. In consequence of which her charitytea is of English hedges, and possesses none of the refreshing properties of true Bohea; her charitywoollen is shoddy, and comes to pieces in a shower of rain; and her charity-calico is half cleaned, and chafes into sores the tender skin of the new-born infant for whom it is destined. For newborn infants are very much alike, whatever their class, and the poor costermonger's unwelcome tenth is identical in everything but the possibilities of the future with my lord's heir, and the same things which would damage the last But the damage also the first. coarse half-cleaned calico, which my lady's housekeeper might per haps make into some kind of kit chen use, 'does well enough' for the costermonger's baby; and if tender flesh is chafed, why, the charitable conscience is appeased; by which accounts are kept squared. Again, there are people who are really charitable in their givinggenerous, sufficient, almost lavish. If a thing is to be a gift, they will spend their money royally, so far as the recipient is concerned; but they too will bargain to the last farthing. To be a tradesman is, in their eyes, to be a rogue; and all prices are assumed to have dishonest excrescences, which can be trimmed and pruned, if you know how. They will give a present of five pounds, when one of five shillings would have been sufficient; but they will try to get an article worth six for the money. They are rabid against the theory of lawful profits; and if trade was conducted according to their principles, it would have to be done at cost price, and sometimes at a loss. They cannot be convinced that the labourer is worthy of his hire. They want the labourer, but object to the hire; and think anything over the bare necessities of life sufficient for the middle man. These are the people who are either praised for their generosity, or abused for their niggardliness, as the speaker has chanced to see them. They are like the famous shield, the onlookers of which at either side were both right and both wrong. The mistake lies in not recognising that there are two sides, and the pedantry in deny ing that dualism is impossible; and in maintaining that every person must be catalogued under one head only, and no modifications allowed for. This very dualism we have been speaking of this Christianity and Skinflintism-is a contradiction in terms, but not in fact; consequently, it exists as a composite characteristic among men and women who are good according to their lights, and sane. They are sincere believers in the Bible, and most of them read it assiduously, and hang their walls with texts, all preaching the same thing-obedience to God, and love of men. They are desirous of saving their souls, and they hold by the obligations of charity as one of the means, among others. They would give a prompt intellectual assent to any one's repudiation of hypocrites, and they hold cheatingwhen called cheating by the lawas infinitely shocking and shameful. But they do unwittingly act the part of hypocrites, and cheat Heaven while meaning to pay their just dues; and while seeking to save their own souls, they drift perilously near to the shallows where souls are lost, and are kept from shipwreck only by their ignorance, and their not meaning to do wrong. They, and such as they, however, ought to make us careful how we catalogue humanity; and especially lead us to doubt of concrete classification, and lumping together in a whole characteristics which ought to be carefully analysed and sifted: and even then credit given for unknown influences. DOWN TO THE SEA. Two sparkling streams, like things of life, But as they meet in yonder burn, With mutual joy and sweet consent These streams their waters mingle; Are these two streams with but one life, What though the rugged rocks appear At once they face them without fear, LONDON'S HEART. BY B. L. FARJEON, AUTHOR OF 'GRIF,' 'JOSHUA MARVEL,' AND 'BLADE-O'-GRASS.' CHAPTER XXIX. FELIX FINDS HIS OYSTER DIFFICULT TO OPEN. THE little word uttered by Lizzie in the concluding paragraph of the previous chapter is like the dropping of the curtain for a time upon the histories of the personages, good and bad, who are playing their parts in this drama of every-day life. For if it in any way resembles what it professes to be, the drama here presented should represent the doings of the time in which it is written; in so far, of course, as they enter into the ordinary life of the ordinary characters who are introduced into it. Records of the more fashionable and (from a 'society' point of view) higher phases of human life and character the writer leaves to other pens. The autumn and winter have passed, and the beautiful buds herald the yearly miracle of spring. Certain changes have taken place in the circumstances and lives of the movers in our story, and of these changes it is necessary here to make record. Lily has left the music-hall, and her simple voice and simple songs are no longer heard in the Royal White Rose, as an antidote to the coarseness and vulgarity which find prominent place on that stage. She is missed and regretted by many of the frequenters of the Royal White Rose. Her presence there was like a fountain of pure clear water in the midst of an unhealthy tract of land; it made men and VOL. XI. women forget for a time the impurities by which they were surrounded. I am glad to be able to say that her absence was regretted there, for it is a proof that indecency in word and action, and immoral suggestiveness in the nature of the songs sung in the Royal White Rose, are not vital elements in the success of such-like establishments. People laugh at these atrocious songs, and at the atrocious meanings conveyed in many of their catch-lines; they suit the trade of some who are regular frequenters of these halls. But that better sentiments can be awakened in their hearts is proved by the earnest and honest enthusiasm which is evoked by the simple singing of a simple ditty, belonging to a school whose days unfortunately are not of the present. It is but a very few weeks ago that I strolled into one of the very lowest music-halls in the metropolis, in. which, upon the occasion of my visit, there were not too many honest men and women, notwithstanding that the hall was quite filled. mong other indecently suggestive songs was one, the title of which I refrain from mentioning, but which may be heard to-day and night uttered by boys and girls-chiefly by the latter-not only in courts and alleys, and under dark arches, but, when the reign of the nightbirds commences, in the noblest thoroughfare in London, which, with the lesser veins that feed it, I have, in the commencement of this story, properly christened The Mart HH A of Shame. The title of this song is supposed to have brought much money and reputation to the Eminent Comic who invented it; if he were whipped for his ingenuity it would be a fitter reward. Whoever trades in indecency deserves some such punishment, and should receive it. After the singing of a number of similar songs, all of which were received with expressions of delight and approval, two young girls came upon the stage and sang, 'What are the wild waves saying?' and an old-fashioned duet, called, I think, 'The Cousins.' I was amazed at the enthusiasm with which these songs were received. The applause was honest, earnest, genuine. There was nothing in music-hall ethics to account for the enthusiasm. The girls were not immodestly dressed, and did not smile or wink at the audience, and yet they were recalled again and again to sing, and their songs, which could not raise a blush or an impure thought, were undoubtedly the greatest success of the entertainment. This was to me a clear proof that it is not necessary for success in music-halls to aim at the utter degradation of taste and sentiment, as seems to be their present intention. There were two reasons to account for Lily leaving the Royal White Rose. One reason was that her grandfather was alarmed for her health; a secret sorrow seemed to weigh upon her spirits and to depress them. She was not as happy in the society of her grand father as she used to be, although, as if to counterbalance this and to remove any uneasiness from him, she strove to be even more affectionate to him when they were alone. The other was, that the purpose for which Old Wheels consented to her appearing upon a stage was served. The debt of shame was paid, and Felix, feeling very sorrowful the while, was compelled to accept the balance of the hundred pounds which had been saved out of Lily's earnings. The old man made no remark conceming Felix's evident reluctance to receive the money. He merely said, 'Now we are free, Felix, and Lily can leave the music-hall. The little income I have will be sufficient to keep us, and I shall be able to watch more closely over my darling.' As the winter approached, Felix, going often to the little house in Soho, more often found the old man alone. Lily had found a companion, he said, and Alfred and she made frequent visits to their new acquaintance. 'My dear girl seems to take pleasure in her new friend,' he said, and it is but natural, for they are nearly the same age. It is but natural also that brother and sister should cling together as Alfred and Lily do. I have seen the young lady, and there is much in her that I like.' 'She has been here, then?' asked Felix. 'Yes; on two occasions. I have not been to her house, for, strange as it may sound, I have never been asked. Even if I were, I think I should not go.' 'Why, sir?' It has 'Because Alfred does not wish it, and there is antagonism between my grandson and me. sprung up gradually, and acquires strength daily. When I first discovered it, I strove to remove it; I strove to win Alfred's confidence, but I was unsuccessful. Perhaps I did not make sufficient excuse for youth and inexperience, and the result is that Alfred's mind is now set against me. And he has so strong an influence over Lilyit is but natural, Felix, as I have said that I am afraid to do any thing with reference to her of which |