OR THE STRUGGLE FOR INDEPENDENCE. BY T. S. ARTHUR. (_Concluded from page 112._) CHAPTER VII. ELLISON was no longer, either in sentiment or purpose, an artist. His whole character had undergone a sudden, though temporary change. He reveled no more in Italian dreams. Beautiful creations arose not, in imagination, under his pencil. The ideal of his life had taken a new form. His end was no longer perfection in the Art at whose shrine genius had made him a worshiper. He had turned to another god; and bowed his knee on the threshold of the house of Mammon. What splendid castles arose in the air all around him! He saw his land cleared of its trees a century old; and fields of grain brightening in the sunshine and waving in the breeze, where now the light could scarcely penetrate the gloomy forest. In the centre of his estate a site was selected for a splendid dwelling, and he saw it rising up before him as if by the touch of enchantment. But for no very long time was this vain dream to be indulged. An overseer, to give practical attention to the cutting of logs in the woods, two miles away from his mill; to look after their transportation to the place where they were to be manufactured into boards, and to have a general supervision of every thing connected with the business, could not be had for less than five hundred dollars a year. Besides this individual, an engineer to run the mill, hands to attend it, and wood-cutters and teamsters, were all to be employed. Six yoke of oxen had also to be purchased; and the expense of feeding them was something of an item in itself. The whole weekly cost of this force, independent entirely of his personal expenses, was about fifty dollars. A month passed, and, though a dozen trials had been made to start the mill, the gearing and machinery were found so defective that they would not work. All hands but the overseer and engineer were then discharged, and millwrights employed to half build the mill over again. They kept at work nearly three months, by which time Ellison’s cash being nearly all expended, he was beginning to be in no very enviable state of mind. A good many things had occurred, in the meantime, to cause more than a doubt as to the success of his scheme to cross his mind. His overseer was a practical man, and able to apply tests to the whole business unknown to Ellison. One day, it was nearly five months from the time the mill came into the young man’s possession, and after some part of the new gearing had given way in an attempt to get it started, the overseer said to him— “I’m afraid you will find this a losing business, manage it as you please. It’s my opinion that it will cost you more to cut the timber, haul it to the mill and saw it up, than the lumber will bring after it is produced.”