I approached to take it: a wele gift it was. He examined my face，I thought，with austerity，as I came near: the traces of tears were doubtless very visible upon it.

"Have you found your first day"s work harder than you expected?" he asked.

"Oh，no! On the contrary，I think in time I shall get on with my scholars very well."

"But perhaps your acmodations- your cottage- your furniture- have disappointed your expectations? They are，in truth，scanty enough; but-" I interrupted-

"My cottage is clean and weather-proof; my furniture sufficient and modious. All I see has made me thankful，not despondent. I am not absolutely such a fool and sensualist as to regret the absence of a carpet，a sofa，and silver plate; besides，five weeks ago I had nothing- I was an outcast，a beggar，a vagrant; now I have acquaintance，a home，a business. I wonder at the goodness of God; the generosity of my friends; the bounty of my lot. I do not repine."

"But you feel solitude an oppression? The little house there behind you is dark and empty."

"I have hardly had time yet to enjoy a sense of tranquillity，much less to grow impatient under one of loneliness."

"Very well; I hope you feel the content you express: at any rate，your good sense will tell you that it is too soon yet to yield to the vacillating fears of Lot"s wife. What you had left before I saw you，of course I do not know; but I counsel you to resist firmly every temptation which would incline you to look back: pursue your present career steadily，for some months at least."

"It is what I mean to do," I answered. St. John continued-