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resided ia the village; and she breathed her lJast.—! Judith Hawkins, or rather Judith Dawson, was disliked and shunned if possible even more than her mother had been, The poor man who was so unhappy as to make her his wite was little better than an idiot, and she con-| sequently exerted undisputed authority in the family.— This woman violently and pertinaciously persisted that the Hall, and the immense wealth left by the late! Mr. Willoughby, was her mother’s; that it had been! willed to Molly by that gentleman in consideration of; ner long and faithful services; and that there was a do- cument yet In existence (though it had been suppressed by the person interested) which would prove the truth ef her statements. These assertions greatly affected the sensitive mind of Gertrude. She thought it not improba- ble that her uncle had in a fit of anger willed away the property which he had previously designed for her.— itis dying words in a great measure corroborated the Stipposition; yet, as justice was certainly onsher side, and the pretended heiress lay in a state which gave no prospect of light being thrown upon the subject, she hesitated not to take possession of the disputed wealth.

The Hall underwent partial rebuilding and thorough repair, and the rector’s family subsequently left the little parsonage, and took up their abode init. Mr. Vivian’ was now arich man; but he was too deeply interested in the profession to which he had devoted himself, to relinquish it because he no longer stood in need of its emoluments. He merely engaged a curate to assist, to whom he paid the whole of the proceeds of the living, and still went amongst his flock, like a father amongst his beloved children. Gertrude had it now in her power to exercise benevolence without making those self-sacri- fices which she had hitherto done, and she and her husband went hand in hand in works of love and charity.

Contrary to the wishes of Mrs. Vivian, the two do- mestics who had resided so many years with Mr. Wil- loughby left the house at his death, and removed into one of the southern shires. As these people had always shown great attachment to her, she was much sur- prised at theirdetermination. No mention was made of them in the will; but deeming their services deserving a recompense, she presented them with a handsome sum ere she suffered them to depart.

Gertrude now filled up her establishment from her husband’s parishioners ; and. strange as it may appear, amongst these was Susan Dawson, the daughter of her bitter foe. ‘I'his girl had become attached to Mr. Vi- vian from having been a pupil in the village school at which that lady presided, and she now begged permis- sion to became an under-servant in her nursery. Ger- trude wag too generous to permit the misconduct of the mother to affect her treatment of the daughter. She moreoyer, saw thatto remove her from the contaminting influence of evil example would probably be to save her from ruin, and she therefore acceded to her request without hesitation.

Another seven years elapsed with little change, ex- cepung that Mr. Vivian’s family increased in number, and, if possible, enjoyed an increase of happiness. A fresh vicissitude, however, now took place in Gertrude’s eventful life. Great events frequently spring from ap-

THE EXAMINER.

ed a secret opening, which disclosed a smal] aperture | in the wall, wherein something lay concealed; she! seized on it with the eagerness of a vulture lighting on’ unexpected prey. :

‘Cannot you find the book, mother? asked the sick. girl, drawing aside the curtain as she spoke. The! almost fiendish expression which sat upon the coun- tenance of her parent terrified her. ‘What is the matter?’ she demanded, scarcely knowing whether to. believe she was in a state of sanity or not.

‘Nothing—nothing,’ was the woman’s reply; and. she strove to conceal the parchment, for such it was, which she had purloined, in her apron.

‘Mother, you have taken something from that closet;

whatever it may be, it is neither yours nor mine. 1 entreat of you to restore it to its place,’ _ Jndith answered by a burst of wild laughter. Find- ing all attempts at concealment vain, she resolved to terrify her into silence. ‘I have found that which will show who is mistress of this mansion’ she ex- ultingly said, holding up the scroll to Susan’s view; ‘but I charge you to speak of it at your peril. Mrs. Vivian will learn her downfall soon enough.’

The menacing words which fell from the lips of her parent, the horrible gestures which accompanied them, and the presentiment that some evil was impend- ing, operated so powerfully onthe feelings of the sick girl, that she sunk back on her pillow in a state of insensibility. A relapse of the disorder was the result. But though her life was now in imminent danger, Ju- dith did not scruple to leave her, and set out that very night on a journey to London, that she might have le- gal advice on the matter which was uppermost in her thoughts.

Dread of her mother’s resentment, and disinclination to expose her faults, induced Susan to regard her in- junction to.silence ; but the concealment preyed on her mind, and affected her already enfeebled frame to such a degree, that though the malady was subdued, it was apprehended that she would sink intoa declihe. Susan’s fondness for the children, and her general good con- duct, had much endeared her to her mistress, and Mrs.' Vivian proposed visiting an adjacent watering-place, | for the sole purpose of affording her the benefit of; ichange of air and sea-bathing. The family were on the eve of departure, when apprised, through the medium

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handsome house in one of the principal squares in the metropolis. She here spent her time in frequentiag places of public resort, or in giving expensive entertain ments. There are always a set of persons to be met with who will flutter around the wealthy, be their pre- tensions to respectability or their moral worth what it may. ‘The widow, therefore, found it an easy matter to fill her spacious drawing-rooms with guests who wore at least a fashionabla appearance. If their charactery had been investigated, it would have been discovered that not one of them could bear a very strict scrutiny.

A career of reckless vice is not often of long duration. Such was the case with the courseepursued by thiv worthless woman. In less than three years after she became possessed of Mr. Willoughby’s property, she met with an accident which suddenly terminated her miserable fife.

The dreadful intelligence was communicated to Susar_ by the attorney who had acted for her mother in the late law affair; and he made it known in so abrupt and un- feeling a manner, that her sensitive mind for a time sunk under it, and she was again thrown upon a bed of

sickness. The first shock over, however, she made a

strong effort to undertake a journey to her native village, with the view of paying a visit to her late master and mistress.

It was the winter season, and night had closed in ere the chaise in which she travelled reached the place of its destination. She was an unexpected guest, but not on that account unwelcome. The family group, col- lected around a blazing fire in the little parlour, now consisted of eight smiling faces. Mr. Vivian was read- ing aloud from an amusing and instructive volume, whilst his wife and elder daughters were engaged with the needle. It was a beautiful picture of domestic har- mony and happiness, and it so powerfully affected the mind of the visitor, that she could not utter a word in reply to the various questions put to her regarding her health, and whether, judging from her haggered aspect, any misfortuue had befallen her.

‘It is not inthe power of wealth to purchase such peace as I find here, she mentally soltloquised, ‘nor can it, I think, even add to it.’

The family had not heard of the death of Mrs. Daw- son. Great was therefore their surprise when Susan, on recovering ber self-possession, put into the rector’s

ofa man of law, that proceedings would forthwith be hands a paper signed by herself, giving up all claim to commenced against Gertrude Vivian for the unlawful the property, which, she affirmed, had been legally, but possession.of certain property, which could be proved nevertheless unjustly, held by hertate mother. Asto- to helong to one Judith Dawson, in right of her mother} nishment for some moments chained Mr. Vivian's lips ; Mary Hawkins, whom he affirmed to have been the but when he did speak, it was to express the admiration lawful heiress to the said property. ‘he felt for this noble act. Gertrude embraced her as

This letter threw the Vivians into consternation.'she would have done a sister ora daughter. ‘ Dear The matter had remained quiet so long, that they had)Susan, she said, ‘your exemplary conduct has confer- almost forgotten that their right had been disputed.) red more real honor upon you than a coronet could have The rector was willing to hope that no positive docu-|bestowed. You love us, and you imagine thaf you owe ment had been found; but Susan, to whom the intelli-!us adebt of gratitude, but | am convinced that a bigher gence was tenderly communicated by her gentle mis-| motive has instigated you to this self-sacrifice. A deep tress, now felt it to be her duty to reveal all she knew/sense of justice, which the laws of man cannot contro- on the subject. This confession threw a fresh aspect on vert, though they may render it nugatory, has been the the affair; still Mr. Vivian hoped it could be proved) leading spring of your actions, and you would have re- that the testator was ina state of imbecility when the linguished a claim you felt to be unjust had we been

parently trifling causes, and we must here enter into the| more recent will was dictated and signed ; on this detail of sone seemingly insignificant matters, in ordex| ground his wife could maintain her own right to be in-

to proceed with our story.

Some relatives of Mr. Vivian, who had been abroad for several years, wrote to, intimate an intention to visit him ex roufe on their return to their residence in Eng-

land. As this family consisted of the master and mis-)

tress, servants and children, much preparation was ne- eassary for their accommodation. Mrs, Vivian, there- tore, proposed that chambers, which had not been made wse of since the death ofher uncle, should be comforta- bly furnished for the reception of her own domestics,

‘violate. The visitto the watering-place was of course set aside, and Susan earnestly begged permission to accompany them to London. She felt herself placed in a most painful position. Her conscience, judgment, and every sentiment of affection and gratitude, induced her to espouse the cause of the Vivians—to espouse it in opposition to a parent.

We will not dwell upon the process of law ; suffice it to say, that when the new will was brought before the court, it was found to be legal. It had been duly sign-

aod that they should give up their apartments for the|ed by the late Mr. Willoughby’s two domestics, John time to the strangers. ‘I'his proposition met with gene- and Margaret Webb; and these persons, having been’ ral approval, with but one exception, and that was to the subpcnaed by Judith Dawson, were obliged to confess, | room which had been occupied by Molly Hawkins. A) when put to their oath, though it was with evident re- superstitious dread of they knew not what made the luctance, that their late master was to all appearance ignorant people shrink from the thought of sleeping in’ perfectly sane when the will received his signature. a chamber which she had tenanted. Susan Dawson,! The fact was, that Webb and his wife had been pre- who was superior to such fears, volunteered, however, to vailed on to give their sanction to what they felt to be become the occupant. ‘The old woman was her grand-|an unjust act; and they had left the neighbourhood on wother, and perhaps she was a little indignant at the the death of their master, with the hope of escaping any odium cast upon her character. ‘The servants were further involvement in the unhappy affair, should the joud in their opposition to what they termed her foliy.| will in favour of the old woman ever come to laght. They were sure, they said, some evil would happer to, By these means Gertrude was dispossessed of her ber: and by a singular coincidence, the girl had not uncle's property, and, with her family, once again re- vccupied the chamber many nights, ere she was taken turned to the rectory. Mrs. Dawson did not make, as suddenly and seriously ill. The cause did not certainly | may be supposed, a very good use of the wealth she had eriginate in the apartment, or any thing connected with acquired by such means. She launched out into the it, but no reasoning could persuade the superstitious | most reckless extravagance, and gathered together a people out of their preconceived opinions on the subject.;number of dissolute and unprincipled people, whose Judith, bad as she was, was not wholly without natu-|persuasions and intemperate example had so powerful ral affection; and hearing that her child was lying illjan effect on the weak mind of her husband, that he fell atthe Hall, she broke a vow she had made, never toenter;a victim to the excesses 1n which he was induced to a house in which Mrs. Vivian was mistress, and even|indulge. No words can give an adequate idea of the solicited permission to attend her daughter in the capa-| distress endured by Susan. city of nurse. Gertrade could not refuse se reasonable}a home as she shared in the rector’s family had natu- a request, though it was far from agreeable to her to'rally tended to elevate her character, as well as refine have a person of Judith Dawson’s habits as an inmate of|her manners; and she now positively refused to share her quiet dwelling. any part of the ill-gotten wealth, As Mrs. Vivian could ~ ‘Phe crisis of Susan’s malady proved favourable; but)no longer afford to keep up her former establishment, as she was for sune weeks in a state of extreine weak jshe sought a situation in a distant town, that she might) ness, and unable to leave her chamber, her mother stil!;be removed from the more iunmediate knowledge of} continued to attend ber. Judith was one day reaching} what was passing in her native village. down a book froma closet in compliance with the re-; Growing weary at length of the amuse:nents which)

Heat af te invalid, when her haad unconsciously touch (i country village afforded, Mra, Dawsou purchased |

total strangers to you.’

‘You have rightly jadged me, dear Mrs, Vivian,’ Susan made answer,

Gertrude, with the perfect concurrence of her hus- band, would have forced a considerable ‘sum upon the noble-minded girl, who was thus the means of reinstat- ing them in their former affluence, but she positively refused its acceptance. Jt was her wish to resume her former position inthe family, but they, would not hear of her being received otherwise than as a friend. An- other offer was, however, made her, which was, to be- come the mistress. of an establishment of herown, A young farmer in the neighbourhood, charmed with the part she had taken in the affair, now came forward as @ suitor for her hand, and was accepted.

It need scarcely be told that Mr. and Mrs. Vivian did all in their power to advance the interests and promote the happiness of the young couple. They educated their children, and advanced their interests in life. Nearly threescore years have passed since the above- related transactions occurred. The inhabitants of the Hall and the inmates of the farm now lie in the litde churchyard, but the name of Susan Dawson is remetn- bered in her native village, and her moral worth is st! the theme of panegynic among its inhabitants.

Moyey.—Wherever you go you will find a money- worshipper, just as you would a Jew in every land. ff you listen to the conversation of people as they pase along the street, ten to one they are speaking about money. Ifyou takea trip in a steamer, and overhesr the passengers talking upon deck, you are almost sure to tind that the subject is money. They cannot even admire a rural scene as they pass it without calculating

The holy influences of such hits value in money. A cockney cannot look ata field

of corn, or piece of marsh land, or an old quarry in a rock, but he must tell you how much money he could make out of that per annum, ithe had the management: and most likely he coucludes by saying what a fool the proprietor is,to make so little use of it. To inake money is the great end and object of every man’s lite and with money, and money chiefly or only, is every thiag to be done—imoney to build schools, oneyto bud prisons, money to build churches, money to build wash-

houses, money to getrid of nuisances, such as church,