As to Richard Jones, we will not attempt to describe the uneasiness of mind he endured in endeavouring to follow out Rachel's advice. He did not understand its spirit, which, indeed, she could not have explained. They who make the will of God their daily law, are guided, even in apparently worldly matters,--not indeed, so as never to commit mistakes, which were being beyond humanity, but so, at least, as to err as little as possible concerning their true motives of action. Our passions are our curse, spiritual and temporal; and the mere habit of subduing them gives prudence and humility in all things:--wisdom thus becomes one of the rewards which God grants to the faithful servant. But of this, what did Richard Jones--the most unspiritual of good men, know? After three days spent in a state of distracting doubt, he came to the conclusion that it was, and must be the will of Heaven that he should have a shop. Poor fellow! if he took his own will for that of the Almighty, did he fall into a very uncommon mistake? Once, his mind was made up, he turned desperate, went and secured the shop. He had all the time been in a perfect fever, lest some other should forestall him, after which he became calm. "Did not much care about Miss Gray's opinion--did not see why he should care about any one's opinion," and in this lofty mood it was that Richard Jones went and gave a loud, clear, and distinct knock at Mrs. Gray's door. Dinner was over--the apprentices were working--Rachel was dreaming, rather sadly, poor girl! for she thought of what was, and of what might have been. Mrs. Gray was reading the newspaper, when the entrance of Richard Jones, admitted by his daughter, disturbed the quiet little household. At once Mrs. Gray flew into politics. "Well, Mr. Jones," she cried, "and how are you? I suppose you know they are raising the taxes--and then such rates as we have, Mr. Jones--such rates!" Mrs. Gray was habitually a Tory, and not a mild one; but on the subject of taxes and rates, Mrs. Gray was, we are sorry to say, a violent radical. "She couldn't abide them," she declared. "And so they axe raising the taxes, are they!" echoed Mr. Jones, chuckling. "Eh! but that won't do for me, Mrs. Gray. I'm turning householder--and hard by here too!" he added, winking. Mrs. Gray did not understand at all. She coughed, and looked puzzled. Mr. Jones saw that Rachel had not spoken to her. He continued winking, chuckling, and rubbing his hands as he spoke. "I am going into business, Mrs. Gray." Mrs. Gray was profoundly astonished; Mary's work dropped on her lap as she stared with open mouth and eyes at her father, who chucked her chin for her. "Yes," he resumed, addressing Mrs. Gray; "I had always a turn that way." "Oh, you had!" "Always, Mrs. Gray; but I hadn't got no capital; and for a man to go into business without capital, why, ma'am, it's like a body that aint got no soul."