very-day atmosphere of beliefs sharply outlined
by a creed. When you have sounded the entire scale of
prevailing and past theories, even to the depths of
unbelief, then alone are you able, as a reasoning being, to
translate God's dealings with you into consistent religious
faith."

And ended often with,--

"I hope you work hard, intensely, in your art. Do not think,
when you lay aside your brush, you lay aside the artist
also. Genius is unresting. A picture may shape itself in
your brain at any hour, by day or night; and don't be too
indolent, my dear boy, to give it outward embodiment, if it
does."

"I was sadly disappointed at the result of the last," she wrote once.
"Mr. Lang showed it to Mr. Peterson, the sculptor, who pronounced it
slightly below the average first attempts. Of course, from your devotion
to coloring, you did not feel sufficiently interested to put forth all
your powers; still I accept the trial as a proof of your affection.
Having greater genius for painting, you could certainly succeed in
sculpture, nevertheless, if you heartily labored at it. I could never
accept the definition of genius given by the author of 'Rab and his
Friends,' which limits it, if I remember rightly, to an especial
aptitude for some one pursuit. Genius is a tremendous force, not
necessarily to succeed only in one channel, although turned to one by
natural bent."

* * * * *

Little Annie, at my earnest request, wrote to me occasionally. It was a
brief parting with her: she feared her own self-control, possibly. I
know I feared mine; for, had she showed actual grief, I might have
pacified it at the cost of my profession or my life. She wrote in this
wise:--

"DEAR SANDY,--I know of course you are very busy, for Miss
Darry told me at Hillside that your painting was in the
Exhibition, and that you were rapidly becoming a great
artist; and this makes me think I ought to confess to you,
Sandy, that I was wrong that morning when I called Miss
Darry proud. She has been very kind to me lately. She said
it was not right that I should be taught music, and all
sorts of lovely, pleasant studies, and not know how to write
and cipher. So she teaches me with Mrs. Lang's sisters. She
says I already express myself better than I did, and I can
cast up father's account-book every Saturday night; b