had been early inured to misfortune. She had been taken into the house of the parish schoolmaster, when only nine years old, to assist his servant, but from her cleverness and desire to learn, had shared in his children's education, who were taught by him some things in which the poorer class of his scholars did not participate. Mary seemed naturally of a humble and serious disposition; but, humble as she was, she often felt severely the taunting scorn with which she was treated, on account of her birth, by her companions, and sometimes by those who should have known better than them, when she happened, unwittingly, to give offence. In short, she had never known any one who seemed to understand her feelings, or show them any sympathy, except her schoolfellow William Dun, who had always been ready to take her part when she was ill used, to console her when sorrowful, and to play on the seabeach with her when she had time. But when Mary grew somewhat older and stronger, she was offered a service far from the sea and William, and these comforts were lost. It was then, when she had none on earth to sympathise either in her joys or griefs, that she learned to look up to a higher source for comfort, for pity, and direction; and was strengthened to be the means of snatching the wretched Margaret from the destruction she seemed to court.

When the first overpowering sensation occasioned by Mary's words and looks had subsided, the old woman so far relapsed into her usual mood, that the poor girl's utmost entreaties could not prevail on her to allow of her becoming an inmate of her cottage. Nor did she consent, till touched by the earnestness with which Mary quoted the affecting words of Ruth—“ Entreat nie not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee; for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge."

This, however, seemed the last struggle of self-will in that breast which had ever been the seat of turbulent and rebellious passions; and from that night in which her daughter-in-law returned with her from the churchyard,

might be dated a change in her disposition as salutary as it was surprising. The proud nature of Margaret, broken down by suffering, and a heart goaded by remorse, prepared her for embracing the promises of mercy held out to her. These promises were constantly read to her and commented upon by Mary, who was become as her better angel, and whose unwearied attention soothed the few remaining years of her life, and was rewarded by seeing her hitherto stubborn nature daily softening down, till she became docile as a child in the school of Christianity. Still her heart felt, and her tongue expressed, all the hallowing and blessed effects of religion. Mary's constant efforts in behalf of her mother-in-law were of use to herself, for they gave her less time to dwell on her own sorrows; and the pale and interesting features of this meek and humble sufferer soon assumed an expression of subdued pensiveness, which, if it forbade the idea that they could ever be lighted up by mirth or gaiety, gave an assurance of inward peace and pious contentment. Temporal blessings also followed Mary to the cottage of Margaret; for her father, of whom she had never known any thing till his death, being a man of some property, and feeling remorse, it would appear, in his last illness, for his cruel conduct towards her, left her, by his will, soon after her change of residence, enough to support herself, and to supply the poor old woman with all those little comforts so necessary to old age and declining health, till the day arrived, when, full of true penitence, Margaret was laid in the same grave on which she had so often sat in all the wildness and horror of despair.

ENGLISH AND SCOTCH HOUSE-BUILDING.

THE English build their houses of brick, and the Scotch of stone. These peculiarities of taste and habit are so strongly associated with the character of the two nations, that they may be frequently observed wherever the English and Scotch are planted, especially in foreign countries. When a Scotsman crosses the Border, at almost any point, he wonders how the people come to have such a predominating taste for brick. Every house he sees seems to be built with no other material, and all the towns and villages he travels through seem but piles of so many brickkilns set in rows. As he proceeds, he gets accustomed to this, as it appears to him, very strange fancy; but he always feels a certain degree of pity for those who are doomed to inhabit houses with walls so very thin, and so little able to keep out the cold. When an Englishman, in the same manner, enters Scotland, he is apt to be as much surprised at finding that the houses are all reared of solid stone, like so many castles or public edifices; and he is led to imagine that the Scotch are really an extravagant people in building their dwellings with a material so dear and difficult to be wrought. When the Scotch settle in England, they generally conform to the fashion of brick houses; but an Englishman, on emigrating northward, will try, if possible, to resist the national custom, and erect his cottage with his dearly beloved brick. These contrary tastes are very observable in Ireland: the English in the south-in Dublin for instance-adhering staunchly to brick, and the Scotch in the north sticking to the stone, which is so characteristic of their country.

Some persons might be led to suppose that these diversities of taste in the architecture of dwelling-houses are the result of necessity; but they are by no means entirely so. In many parts of England which are covered with brick houses, the district abounds in excellent stone; while in

Scotland, in places where clay is plentiful and stone is scarce, the latter material is transported by land carriage, at a heavy charge, in preference to brick, which could be easily and cheaply made. In erecting a brick house, the Englishman makes a point of consulting his own comfort, and that of his family. He rears his dwelling with every imaginable convenience; sections it off into neat snug apartments, almost calculating where his own easy-chair is to stand by the fireside; surrounds the house with a pretty kitchen and flower-garden; encloses the whole with a smart green railing; and finishes his goodly work by attaching to the wicket a clear-burnished fanciful brass knocker. Now, the Scotsman's taste runs in an entirely different channel. He sets about his work by going through certain toilsome preliminaries, which are considered of paramount importance. His first object of search is a quarry whence he may have his stones dug, and transported to the spot where they are to be used; his second point of inquiry is for a place to which he may convey the rubbish excavated from the foundation. When he has satisfied himself in these particulars, he commences operations on a scale of wonderful magnitude. He begins with the erection of a wooden house, something resembling the loghut of a backwoodsman, which he plants immediately in front of the proposed edifice, as if preparing to besiege a fortress in regular form. The erection of this wooden house, technically called a shed, can on no account be dispensed with. In it he congregates half-a-dozen stone-masons, who there dress the blocks previous to their being used; but this preliminary erection occasionally stands long after the house is actually finished, and appears as if it were reckoned an ornament to the street. The Englishman erects and finishes his house within the period of a month or two; but the Scotsman keeps working at his for the better part of a whole year, generally contriving to commence his labours with the first appearance of fine weather at the close of winter, so as to make sure of having the roof on and

the walls plastered before Christmas. The Englishman erects his house for the comfort of those who are immediately to inhabit it, but the Scotsman invariably calculates on its uses to his posterity, or how "the property" will serve as a legacy to his descendants. He appears to take a great delight in building for future ages; and in order to make up a good rent-roll for his grandson, he will put himself to great inconveniences. The Englishman builds his house because he has two or three hundred pounds to spare, and thinks it could not be better laid out than on a dwelling for his family; and he builds a house accordingly, suitable to the capital he has at his command. The Scots

man, however, very seldom contents himself in this manner. His desire to be the laird of a large edifice, often impels him to go much beyond his means, and by borrowing the deficiency, entails a comfortable debt on the premises, which his sons or his creditors have the pleasure of liquidating. So frequently, indeed, is this the result of such speculations, that it is a common enough expression, in explaining how a particular individual became bankrupt, to say "that he never rested till he built himself out of a house;" in other words, he did not desist till he had spent all his means, exhausted his credit, lost his property, and become a ruined man.

These different processes of house-building are partly the result of the English and Scotch modes of letting land for long periods. In England, it is the common practice to take leases of ground for building for a period of ninetynine years, or perhaps less; and for this piece of ground a certain rent is charged annually, with the arrangement that the houses on the property shall fall into the hands of the lord of the manor at the expiry of the lease; and hence, in a great measure, the plan of building houses which will not last in good repair for more than a hundred years. The Scotch being in every respect a more calculating people, despise the prospect of only a hundred years' possession -"what some day to be turned out of our own house!"