walking in the night, or a flower blossoming in the shade. Yet Catherine was not without a perception of comedy. She could laugh when she could find anything laughable to her; the misfortune was, this occurred seldom. For her sense of the ridiculous had not, by any means, outgrown and dwarfed all her other faculties—a result which may be found not only in old court fools and in many of the village imbeciles of every generation, but also in a large number of men and women who have special pretensions to wisdom and wit. When Oliver warmed with his subject, his gestures grew less and less awkward, the tendency to grimace disappeared, and something of the natural dignity of the man shone forth from his goodly physique. But alas! his audience did not warm with him, though the want of sympathy, while it went to his heart, had not the power to damp his enthusiasm so as to rob him of the advantage he derived from it. As Oliver discoursed on the nobility and beauty which underlie all God’s creation and are never utterly absent, however foully or meanly marred in his fearful and wonderful handiwork man; as he bade his listeners recognise the high heroism of a rude old Westmoreland shepherd; the essential refinement of a bareheaded, barefooted, Highland girl; as he urged them to examine and ascertain for themselves the exquisite perfection of much they might be tempted to overlook, or undervalue as trifles light as air, or as possessions too universal to be of the slightest value, gaping impatience and scorn took the place of titters and grins, with few exceptions. ‘Did you ever hear such radical rant—praising them pedlars and leech gatherers and the whole band of wandering vagabonds?’ Mrs. Polley was moved to whisper to the daughter next her, during a pause in the selection of some of the quotations with which the lecture was graced. ‘I would not buy a reel of cotton from the one, or trust a silver spoon within a mile of t’other of them tramps. I would never have evened Oliver Constable to be guilty of this. I declare I begin to be frightened of this here young man. Mark my words, Ann, he’ll not stop where he has begun. It is fair impudence to deliver such a lecture to well-to-do, respectable people. As for his trash about birds’ eggs and daisies, why it is fit only for a parcel of children! He’ll be proposing Polley and me to go a bird-nesting and threading of daisy-chains next.’ ‘I would not say it to everybody, because Constable is a personal friend,’ said Jack Dadd with ostentatious loyalty, ‘but I must say I prefer a lecture in the chapel from the Dutchman when he’s sending us all to pot. We mayn’t take the whole in, and it ain’t agreeable—exactly, to be called bad names, though it’s what we bargain for from a parson, but when he comes it strong and hot it is more rousing. If this is what you call poetry, ’Liza, you and Constable may keep it to yourselves and welcome.’