d, 'no more pay without work for me. I will earn my
bread or starve. It seems God's will to teach me what poverty is--I
will see that His intention is not left half fulfilled. I have
sinned, and only in the stern delight of a just penance can I gain
self-respect.'

'But, my dear madman,' said his uncle, 'you are just the innocent
one among us all. You, at least, were only a sleeping partner.'

'And therein lies my sin; I took money which I never earned, and
cared as little how it was gained as how I spent it. Henceforth I
shall touch no farthing which is the fruit of a system which I
cannot approve. I accuse no one. Actions may vary in rightfulness,
according to the age and the person. But what may be right for you,
because you think it right, is surely wrong for me because I think
it wrong.'

So, with grim determination, he sent to the hammer every article he
possessed, till he had literally nothing left but the clothes in
which he stood. 'He could not rest,' he said, 'till he had pulled
out all his borrowed peacock's feathers. When they were gone he
should be able to see, at last, whether he was jackdaw or eagle.'
And wonder not, reader, at this same strength of will. The very
genius, which too often makes its possessor self-indulgent in common
matters, from the intense capability of enjoyment which it brings,
may also, when once his whole being is stirred into motion by some
great object, transform him into a hero.

And he carried a letter, too, in his bosom, night and day, which
routed all coward fears and sad forebodings as soon as they arose,
and converted the lonely and squalid lodging to which he had
retired, into a fairy palace peopled with bright phantoms of future
bliss. I need not say from whom it came.

'Beloved!' (it ran) 'Darling! you need not pain yourself to tell me
anything. I know all; and I know, too (do not ask me how), your
noble determination to drink the wholesome cup of poverty to the
very dregs.

'Oh that I were with you! Oh that I could give you my fortune! but
that is not yet, alas! in my own power. No! rather would I share
that poverty with you, and strengthen you in your purpose. And yet,
I cannot bear the thought of you, lonely--perhaps miserable. But,
courage! though you have lost all, you have found me; and now you
are knitting me to you for ever--justifying my own love to me by
your nobleness; and am I not worth all the world to