“He’ll do better than you, with all your canting,” cried Ann. The words in a moment recalled Mark to himself; what had he been doing? what had he been saying? he, the pilgrim to heaven; he, the servant of God! With a bitterness of spirit more painful than any wrong which could have been inflicted upon him by another, he took up the Bible which had been dropped in the struggle, and left the cottage without uttering a word. [Illustration: HERDING SHEEP.] Mortifying were Mark’s reflections through that day, as he sat tending his sheep. “Keep the commandments!” he sadly murmured to himself; “how many have I broken in five minutes! I took God’s name in vain—a terrible sin. It is written, _Above all things swear not_. I did not honour my mother, I spoke insolently to her. I broke the sixth commandment by hating my brother; I struck him; I felt as though I could have knocked him down and trampled upon him! How can I reach heaven by keeping the commandments? I could as well get up to those clouds by climbing a tree. Well, but I’ll try once again, and not give up yet. There is no one to provoke me, no one to tempt me here; I can be righteous at least when I am by myself.” So Mark sat long, and read in his Bible, mended it as well as he could, and thought of Mr. Ewart and his words. Presently his mind turned to Lord Fontonore, the fair, bright-haired boy who possessed so much wealth, who was placed in a position so different from his own. “He must be a happy boy indeed!” thought Mark, “with food in abundance, every want supplied, not knowing what it is to wish for a pleasure and not have it at once supplied. He must be out of the way of temptation too, always under the eye of that kind, holy man, who never would give a rough word, I am sure, but would always be leading him right. It is very hard that there are such differences in the world, that good things are so very unevenly divided. I wish that I had but one quarter of his wealth; he could spare it, no doubt, and never feel the loss.” Without thinking what he was doing, Mark turned over a leaf of the Bible which lay open upon his knee. _Thou shalt not covet_, were the first words that met his gaze; Mark sighed heavily, and closed the book. “So, even when I am alone, I am sinning still; coveting, repining, murmuring against God’s will, with no more power to stand upright for one hour than this weed which I have plucked up by the roots. And yet _the soul that sinneth it shall die_. I cannot get rid of these terrible words. I will not think on this subject any more, it only makes me more wretched than I was. Oh! I never knew, till I tried it to-day, how hard, how impossible it is to be righteous before a holy God!”