eat mind to wear a beard myself. It would be a prodigious comfort to
dispense with the razor in cold winter mornings, to say nothing of the
ornament. And now that I think of it, it is just the season to begin."

"You would look like a bear, Mr. Bernard," said his wife.

"It would be too near an imitation of the old Puritans for you,
Judge," said Faith.

"You, at least, my little Puritan," cried the Judge, "would not
object. But do not fancy that in avoiding Scylla I _must_ run upon
Charybdis. Be sure I would not imitate the trim moustaches and peaked
chins of those old dandies, Winthrop and Endicott. I prefer the full
flowing style of Wykliffe and Cranmer."

"We should then have two Holdens," exclaimed Mrs. Bernard, "and that
would be more than our little village could live through."

"Fancy papa running an opposition beard against Mr. Holden!" said
Anne.

The idea was sufficiently ludicrous to occasion a general laugh, and
even Armstrong smiled.

"I am a happy man," said the Judge; "not only mirthful, myself, but
the cause of mirth in others. What a beam of light is a smile, what a
glory like a sunrise is a laugh!"

"That will do, Judge Bernard, that will do," said his wife; "do not
try again, for you cannot jump so high twice."

"Tut, tut, Mary; what do you know about the higher poetics? I defy you
to find such sublimities either in Milton or Dante."

"I can easily believe it," said Mrs. Bernard.

At this moment some other visitors entering the room, the conversation
took another turn; and Mr. Armstrong and his daughter having remained
a short time longer, took leave and returned home. Let us follow the
departing visitors.

Upon his return, Mr. Armstrong sank upon a seat with an air of
weariness.

"Come, Faith," he said, "and sit by me and hold my hand. I have been
thinking this evening of the insensibility of the world to their
condition. How few perceive the precipice on the edge of which they
stand!"

His daughter, who was accustomed to these sombre reflections, bent
over, and bringing his hand to her lips, kissed it without saying
anything, knowing that he would soon explain himself more perfectly.

"Which," continued Armstrong, "is wiser, the thoughtless frivolity of
Judge Bernard, or the sad watchfulness of Holden?"

"I am not competent to judge, dear father; but if they both act
according to their convictions of right, are they not doing their
duty?"

"You ask a difficult question. To be