"But, is it possible for money to give peace and true enjoyment, if, in the spirit, even though not in the letter, violence is done to the laws of both God and man? Can ill-gotten gain produce heavenly beatitudes?--and there are none others. The heart never grows truly warm and joyous except when light from above streams through the darkened vapours with which earth-fires have surrounded it. Oh, my husband! Turn yourself away from this world's false allurements, and seek with me the true riches. Whatever may be your lot in life--I care not how poor and humble--I shall walk erect and cheerful by your side if you have been able to keep a conscience void of offence; but if this be not so, and you bring to me gold and treasure without stint, my head will lie bowed upon my bosom, and my heart throb in low, grief-burdened pulsations. False lights, believe me, Edward, are hung out by the world, and they lure life's mariner on to dangerous coasts. Let us remain on a smooth and sunny sea, while we can, and not tempt the troubled and uncertain wave, unless duty requires the venture. Then, with virtue at the helm, and the light of God's love in the sky, we will find a sure haven at last." "It shall be as you wish, Edith," said Claire, as he gazed with admiring affection into the bright and glowing face of his wife, that was lovely in her beautiful enthusiasm. "No--no, Edward! Don't say as _I_ wish," was her quick reply. "I cannot bear that you should act merely under my influence as an external pressure. If I have seemed to use persuasion, it has not been to force you over to my way of thinking. But, cannot you see that I am right? Does not your reason approve of what I say?" "It does, Edith. I can see, as well as feel, that you are right. But, the offer of a present good is a strong temptation. I speak freely." "And I thank you for doing so. Oh! never conceal from me your inmost thoughts. You say that you can see as well as feel that I am right?" "Yes; I freely acknowledge that." "Your reason approves what I have said?" "Fully." "This tells you that it will be better for you in the end to accept of four hundred dollars from Mr. Melleville, than to remain with Mr. Jasper at six hundred and fifty?" "It does, Edith." "Then, my husband, let the reason which God has given to you as a guide, direct you now in the right way. Do not act under influence from me--for then the act will not be freely your own--but, as a truly rational, and, therefore, a wise man, choose now the way in which an enlightened reason tells you that you ought to walk." "I have chosen, Edith," was the young man's low, but firm reply. "How?" The wife spoke with a sudden, trembling eagerness, and held her breath for an answer. "I will leave my present place, and return to Mr. Melleville." "God be thanked!" came sobbing from the lips of Edith, as she threw herself in unrestrained joy upon the bosom of her husband. CHAPTER VIII.