was permitted to withdraw. The upper piazza of the seminary overlooked a lively little stream, which gleamed before us a moment in the sunshine, and then went singing its sweet song through the shady woods which skirted the villages. Its beauty arrested my gaze, but not my thoughts: they were too sad to be won by an appeal to the eye only, and soon the tears came trickling down my cheek, and a sob told my wretchedness. At this moment a gentle step aroused me, and an arm passed over my shoulder, while a soft voice said to me,

"Little friend, why do you weep? There is an old Arabic proverb which says, 'Running waters make the heart glad;' and can you look upon that merry brooklet and give way to sadness?" and then, drawing me towards her, while she passed her hand over my forehead, she continued,

"What grief should thy years know?

Thy brow and cheek are smooth as waters be
When no breath troubles them."

A beautiful face, as well as a sweet voice, had this fair speaker. O, how I afterwards loved that face, with its bright complexion, white forehead, dim with the shadow of rich brown tresses, with its full ruby lips, and, more than all, the large, dark, earnest eyes, from which "I drank in soul!" Helen Conway was then "just seventeen;" she was above the usual height—some called her

too tall but her head was so superbly moulded, her bearing so queenly, every movement so graceful, and this dignity was tempered with so rare a spirit of most delicate mirth, that few save the envious found her height at all detracting from her perfection.

She was the only daughter of an English gentleman of great wealth, and she had but one brother, every way worthy of Helen. They had been motherless for many years, but their father had added the tenderness of the lost parent to the pride they were so well calculated to inspire in his bosom; and certainly they were a singularly happy family.

The summer term passed quickly away, and we were busy in our preparations for the annual examination, when Helen was summoned to attend the death bed of her father. We heard from her through her letters to one of the teachers. Her father's illness had been partly the result of anxiety on learning the loss of all his landed property, and, on his decease, his whole estate was ascertained to be insolvent. Helen was therefore unable to return to school; she was resolved henceforth to sustain herself, and for that purpose must go out among strangers.

When another term brought us together again, I learned that Helen Conway, though much against her brother's wishes, had entered a Lowell factory, as an operative, to supply herself with the

means of finishing her education. To her brother's expostulations she had replied,

"It is no disgraceful thing which I would do, Philip, but one most honorable. I would not make such employment a matter of choice, nor would I perhaps seek such companions as may surround me; but at the worst, the employment will not degrade me, nor the associates contaminate, and I shall the soonest gain what I require, and I shall have the satisfaction of knowing that I have not fettered you, my dear Philip, in the course you have adopted; for impeded you would be by the maintenance of an indolent, helpless girl."

With what astonishment was this intelligence received by Helen's former schoolmates! Her mild dignity had gained for her the respect of all -her rare intellectual acquirements had commanded it, and her amiable disposition had won even the most thoughtless; but when all these had failed, the aristocratic name she bore, and the knowledge of her father's wealth, had been sufficient to gain an acknowledgment of her superiority. What was she now? "A factory girl” 66 one of the Lowell crowd". a class always placed, by the little would-be aristocrats of our number, far below the daughters of the retail grocer, or humble artisan. In spite of the circumstances which had given me my station in the

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upper circle" of our miniature world, this state

of things had made me most indignant. I did combat bravely for Nature's true aristocracy; and I uphold it still more warmly now, since a knowledge of the real world has taught me that fine apparelling may clothe the most unmitigated vulgarity, and a full purse only aid its supercilious importance and ridiculous pretensions. The right to be aristocratic and I hold there is such a right

is one which comes as a free gift of Nature; and this distinction I reverence next to the rare genius with which she sometimes endows her children. Vulgarity in a palace, displaying itself in affections of taste and refinement, so shallow that any clear eye may discern their absurdity, showing itself also in haughty insolence towards inferiors in station or worldly advantages, and servility towards those elevated by the world's acclaim, or by yet greater wealth, above themselves, is utterly more despicable and revolting than the unconstrained vulgarity of the lower classes. Very few who have the power of gaining great wealth know how to use it; their energies are too often directed only in one channel, and when they have tightly drawn their purse strings over the last-acquired dollar, they have resolutely drawn closer the heart strings. Stifling all noble impulses, their head, too, grows heavy with their hoards, and the highest aspirations of their soul are checked, and perish in the tainted atmosphere. D'Israeli defines "good breeding"-which is necessary to aris

tocracy as "a genial regard for the feelings of others, which springs from an absence of selfishness; " and how can those whose hearts are hard as their treasures hope to acquire it?

But I mean not to digress thus, and will hasten to tell you how my friend fared. The whole year was spent in toil, and its effect was ennobling, for she was stimulated and incited by the highest motives which can influence our conduct; and may not the most menial labor be rendered a proud, yea, a holy service, when we toil for the comfort and happiness of those we love, for their or our own advancement in the beautiful love the soul craves?

Helen's leisure hours were well improved; the boarding-house piano was ever her choicest recreation, for she had a fine voice and a well-cultivated taste for music. A large library, for the use of the operatives in the mills, supplied her with books her own little store lacked; and besides this, she learned many, and to her most strange lessons of human nature, among her associates, until both heart and soul expanded most liberally during her year at Lowell.

At the end of the year she returned to school, more beautiful far than she had ever been, for she had learned to be fully conscious of her own peculiar dignity as a woman, capable of self-control and of self-support. She was more lovable than ever, also, for her heart had a warmer welcome for those whose affection was tried and faithful.