well.

"Get the singers to sing it,
Put it in the mouths of bells,
Pay the ringers to ring it,
That God is well."

Therefore make a valiant stand against that ugly thing, disease. By all
Nature's remedies, hasten to be out of it. Fight it off as long as
possible, defy it when you can, and refuse "to hang up your hat on the
everlasting peg." Be reinforced in all honorable ways. If not too ill,
read the dailies; know the last measure of Congress, the price of gold,
and the news by the foreign steamer. Disabuse the world for once of its
traditional invalid, who sits mewed up in blankets, and never goes where
other people go, because it might hurt him. Be out among the activities;
don't let the world get ahead, but keep along with the life of things.
Then, if invalidism is to be accepted, meet it bravely and serenely as
may be; and if death, then approach it loftily, for no one dies with his
work undone, and no just-minded person can wish to survive his service.
None should aspire to say, with the antiquated Chesterfield, "Tyrawley
and I have been dead these two years, but we don't choose to have it
known."

But happy they on whom the deep blight has not fallen, and who day by
day restore themselves to the grand perfection of manly and womanly
estate; happy again to "feel one's self alive" and

"Lord of the senses five";

happy again to "excel in animation and relish of existence"; happy to
have gathered so much strength and hope, that, when begins the melody of
the morning birds, again shall the joy of the new dawn, with all the
possible adventure and enterprise of the coming day, thrill through the
heart.

GRIFFITH GAUNT; OR, JEALOUSY.

CHAPTER XLII.

"Be seated, mistress, if you please," said Mrs. Gaunt, with icy
civility, "and let me know to what I owe this extraordinary visit."

"I thank you, dame," said Mercy, "for indeed I am sore fatigued." She
sat quietly down. "Why I have come to you? It was to serve you, and to
keep my word with George Neville."

"Will you be kind enough to explain?" said Mrs. Gaunt, in a freezing
tone, and with a look of her calm gray eye to match.

Mercy felt chilled, and was too frank to disguise it. "Alas!" said she,
softly, "'t is hard to be received so, and me come all the way from
Lancashire, with a heart like lead, to do my duty, God willing."

The tears stood in her eyes, and her mellow voice was sweet and patient.

The gentle remonstran