west door to the chancel, carpet from the carriage door to the church door: bouquets of rare exotic flowers, orange blossoms, and silk and Honiton lace, all to wind up with a six weeks' tour among Paris gaieties, Italian suns, and Alpine snows,-I wonder if any of these know how their poorer brethren end their engagement in marriage, in our villages and in the more lowly parts of our towns? I do not mean to say that such things as these are objectionable. The greatest, the most ennobling, the most awful step in a human being's life may well be marked with such ceremonial as this, provided there is something deeper and more lasting beneath it. The orange blossoms may be the type of flowers that will adorn the bride hereafter, and never fade; the attendant bridesmaids may be those who will welcome the bride hereafter at her marriage with other than the husband she is wedding here; and I know not if a marriage can be too fine, I know not if the bride can be too well and simply adorned, if beneath the adorning there is a heart that sympathizes and loves, a heart that beats with charity and duty. But do such as have the means for this think of their poorer brethren in the same position? Here is a marriage amongst our villagers. The banns have been published for three successive Sundays; perhaps it is the cheaper way; but at all events it is the proper way, and in keeping with the order of the Church; and the marriage is to come off in the following week. Saturday is the day generally chosen, for there is no time or money for a "wedding tour," and Sunday following, the bridegroom can return to his work on Monday. The going to Church is performed on foot, the bride walking with her father or the bridegroom's "best man," the bridegroom escorting the bridesmaid. After the ceremony the order is reversed; they return to the bride's house, and there meeting their friends towards the evening, the marriage feast is kept up till far into the night. This is all, there is no more ceremony than this; no more finery than a white or light colored dress of some cheap material, with a white bonnet, decks the bride; and the bridegroom-he is not too proud to go to Church in cord breeches and leathern gaiters, with perhaps nothing new but a coat, or even a hat. True hands and loving hearts are joined together perhaps as well in this way as with the accompaniments of the paraphernalia of the high and rich. The words I will," are meant to be kept at the time, just as much by the ploughman or maidservant as they are by the lady or the lord.

But there is one vast difference between these two weddings, however, which I wish to speak of, and in which I think one could if they would greatly help the other. In the upper and middle classes, an engagement seldom ends in a marriage till every thing is arranged satisfactorily for the future; a house taken, furniture bought, occupation procured, provision made for after life; and often before this can be done a man may have reached far on in the years of his natural life. Thus engagements go on for years, and are often broken off altogether, because there is no prospect of being able to settle down. Among the lower classes, however, the contrary is generally

the case. No forethought, no care for the day even after marriage, is with such as these; they have no home, a room in their parent's house seems all their ambition; they have no furniture; and there is no telling how many ever expect to get any. As for money, it is a hard matter sometimes to raise enough to pay the marriage fees, and they have often to look on to the next week's wages to pay for the first dinner of their married life. In a word, they marry, for the most part, on nothing; many of them,―let us hope most of them— marry from mutual affection and respect; both these certainly are present at first, for they have nothing else to marry for no family, no riches; but some if not all of this must go out at the window, when poverty and want come in at the door.

The fact, too, that they go home and live with their parents is an evil in itself: it causes crowded cottages, indecent habits, two married couples often living in the same room, and sometimes unmarried brothers and sisters with them; and then this leads to worse matters still, fever,-insufficient ventilation, with all its injurious consequences,—and often, I fear, to sin itself.

The system of marriage among our poor is in every sense of the word, as a rule, at least, improvident; and I think we who are in a station of life above them, so far from doing all we can to stop it, do a great deal to help it on.

Many of us are rich, we own the cottages in which the poor live; we can therefore let them on what terms we please. Is it anything less than common decency, is it anything less than our duty to endeavour to put a stop to this? We can do it by letting our cottages on the understanding that no second married couple shall live in the same house as their parents. No cottage is capable of containing them with any decency. "Then they will be married and go away to some neighbouring town, and take one room; that will make matters worse." I have often heard this urged, but if they are to marry, if rather they will marry, better this, for even if they have to take their meals and sleep in the same room, yet they will have that room to themselves as their own bedroom, a room which should be to a married couple their sanctum.

Much might be done by the higher powers in a village towards making village marriages more suitable. They could do much that would raise the tone of the men and women themselves, and make the "holy estate" held more honourable, and its observance and ceremonial more decently carried out. One plan that I have heard of, would, if adopted, conduce much to the comfort of a newlymarried woman. It is, that each village girl after she has reached a certain age, to be determined on by those planning the matter, should be allowed to pay in something every week, after the manner of the Clothing Club, &c., of which I have spoken; to accumulate till her marriage; then if her character be good, if her husband have a house to take her to, and has saved money to furnish it; the amount be handed over,-say one fortnight before marriage, together with a premium in proportion to the amount put by. If,

on the contrary, she make a stupid match, and be going to live in a crowded house, making it still more crowded, then that the sum paid in be returned without any premium.

The employers of the newly married couple, too, might mark their approbation of a good and prudent match, and of their appreciation of the good conduct of those they employ. This might be done in many ways; by paying the fees due at the time, by providing the wedding dinner, giving the bride her wedding dress, making a present of some nice piece of furniture; all of these things would show an interest in the proceeding, and go far to prevent unsuitable and improvident marriages.

The Clergyman's wife often now gives the wedding dress to girls who have been in their schools, and who have led blameless lives up to the time of their marriage; but what is wanted is, that each employer should take an interest in the settling down in life of the particular men and women they employ. In a village it would hardly run to one a year to each of the farmers. Now, so far from helping, 80 far from taking an interest in things of this kind, they dock the man of his wages for the time that he is away, "Mr. Smith don't care who I marries." "Mr. Jones won't let I go to be married unless I loses my wages: he don't care what sort of place I lives in.” These are the complaints we continually hear in our villages; complaints, too, that we know are not exaggerated; complaints that we see and hear have only a too well built foundation. It is such feeling as this this miserable "self-interest"-this wretched all quid pro quo," apart from any good feeling, opposed to all that is charitable it is this that degrades and demoralises our lower orders; it is this that causes shame, and eventually brings on crime. "No one cares for me; What is the use of my trying to behave well? I am only cared for as long as I do my work." Is it any wonder that we hear such sayings as these, if the employers do not interest themselves in their employed beyond what they can get out of them. is not that the poor are bad in themselves, as many say who know nothing about them; nor are they ungrateful; but it is the bad they see in those who should set them a good example; it is the way in which they themselves are treated and cared for which makes them have no care or respect for others.

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The disrespect paid to the matrimonial ceremony by those to whom the lower order know that they should be able to look up, the disregard shewn towards it by those who have "the rule over them,” the laws passed to facilitate all sorts of irregular marriages, doing away with the religious ceremony, which seems to me to be the only safeguard; these are things which influence the lower orders, and not an innate disregard to religious ceremonies, as many would urge. One thing I will say, the poor have a great horror of a marriage without "going to Church," and with good example would, I imagine, quite ignore such compacts. Their idea of marriage as a religious ceremony seems to me great, for although they know but little about it, they frequently object to being married during Lent.

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Many will not admit much difference between those whom God through His ministers has not joined together, and those who have not entered into any legal compact to live as man and wife.

If, then, early marriages must take place, to the prejudice of health and at the expense of decency, despite kind advice and persuasive argument, then there is another plan which will prevent such objectionable unions. The fees charged now for marriages are so ridiculously small that those who have nothing to marry on, who have no where to go when married, yet find no difficulty, or at all events not much difficulty, in paying them. An old man, not many weeks ago, married an old woman from our village; instead of marrying her from her own house, he married her from his village: Why? Because the fees were some shilling or so cheaper there. This holds good with younger as with all marriages. Make the fees larger; the Parson himself will know when to remit the extra charge, or, if he can afford it, the amount altogether. One thing I must speak of here, and censure, as the breaking alike of God's law and of man's. A man or woman in our village wishes to be married contrary to the wishes of his or her parents; they do not go to their Parson because they know that he will go to their parents; or the banns of the union will be forbid. What follows? they go to some large neighbouring town, if there be any, and find some one to marry them without asking any questions. Sometimes a licence is procured; the procurer is not particular about the woman's age; sometimes the woman manages to get service, or stays with a friend for the required time, in the town where she is to be married. This, too, is often done, not only amongst the lower, but amongst the higher classes of society, and, fearful as it seems, there are friends who are ever ready in an unfriendly way to deceive the parents, and ruin the child.

Of the Parsons who marry such as these I need scarcely say anything; they serve Cæsar rather than God; they care for the loaves and fishes more than for their duty; they make no enquiries as the law directs them; they make no enquiries as their position and office demands. Let us pass them by, only praying that our Church may censure such, and that our Parsons whose congregations they thus injure may never shrink from doing their utmost to expose them.

I believe more may be done in this matter by example and teaching than by any other means; I believe that the influence of the employers, of the Parson and his family, and of the Farmers, will have greater weight in this matter than in anything with which we have to deal in our villages, for the people themselves have a respect for the ordinance, a respect which has only been displaced, where displaced, by the example of those who ought to have taught them better; and a little judicious management, and a few kindly words of advice will restore that respect to its earlier purity. And then, instead of finding the Holy Estate of Matrimony" evaded and carped at, one shall find that those "whom God has joined together” man will have no sinful desire to endeavour "to put asunder."

DEEDS SHOW.

By Thornley Grant.

CHAPTER XXV.

BREAKFAST.

Both cuckoo and hedge-sparrow retired to rest that night conscious of the impending struggle. They had never met, knew little of each other by report, and yet felt thoroughly antagonistic. One had a position to renew, the other to maintain. Both knew sufficient of the Earl's character to feel sure that he would favour the party most likely to be of service to him. Such trifles as gratitude or affection would not embarrass his decision. Hitherto he had declared for neither. He had bid Horace stay, had accepted Lascelles' return. So far it was equal. As both Chaplain and Doctor were absent, the battle must be fought with their own forces, without reinforcements or allies. Of course the Earl as an invalid did not appear at breakfast. Pounceforth brought him his chocolate of a morning, and then waited to be sworn at, and also to read the papers aloud. After this ceremony had been duly observed the more serious affair of the toilette began. The process of transforming the old mummy into a semblance of humanity usually occupied so long that the Earl rarely "showed" until three or four o'clock in the afternoon.

Horace descended to the breakfast room with an amount of nervousnes he would have been ashamed to confess to. He gave a little sigh of relief at finding it empty, and flinging himself into a great arm-chair, turned it completely in front of the fire, which he commenced poking in a way calculated to effect its speedy extinction. He was roused from his reverie by a voice proceeding from some one behind him; he looked up to see who it was that had entered so noiselessly; he saw a tall grave man, with a pale face, and eyes of molten steel; and this grave man held in his arms a large white cat which he was regarding with much complacency.

'Might I ask you to move slightly on one side? Thank you, that is quite enough. Mamselle is rather a spoilt animal, and accustomed to one favourite spot."

Horace rose with a little apology for keeping the owner of the cat from the cheery blaze, and mentally reviewed him as he placed the precious pet in the most comfortable position, which with true feline ingratitude she instantly deserted. The inspection did not reassure him, nor yet did the apparently puerile care for a pet cat lead him to despise his antagonist. He knew well that some of the greatest minds, aye, some of the most terrible, have been most given