it awoke him to
the perception that he had not been so utterly debarred from usefulness
as he had imagined, and that he had neglected much that might have
infinitely benefited his brother, sister, and father. He had lived for
himself and Helen alone!

He tried to draw out Helen's example to teach Violet to endure, and in
doing so the other side of the lesson came home to himself. Helen's
life had been one of exertion as well as of submission. It had not been
merely spent in saying, 'Thy will be done,' but in doing it; she had
not merely stood still and uncomplaining beneath the cross, but she had
borne it onward in the service of others.

CHAPTER 7

Sweeter 'tis to hearken
Than to bear a part,
Better to look on happiness
Than to carry a light heart,
Sweeter to walk on cloudy hills,
With a sunny plain below,
Than to weary of the brightness
Where the floods of sunshine flow.
--ALFORD

One morning John received a letter from Constantinople, which he had
scarcely opened before he exclaimed, 'Ha! what does he mean? Given up
his appointment! Coming home! It is just like him. I must read you what
he says, it is, so characteristic.'

'You must have been provoked at my leaving you all this time in doubt
what to do with our precious tour, but the fact is, that I have been
making a fool of myself, and as the Crusaders are the only cover my
folly has from the world, I must make the most of them. I give out
that my literary affairs require my presence; but you, as the means of
putting me into my post, deserve an honest confession. About six weeks
ago, my subordinate, Evans, fell sick--an estimable chicken-hearted
fellow. In a weak moment, I not only took his work on my hands, but
bored myself by nursing him, and thereby found it was a complaint only
to be cured by my shoes.'

'Shoes! exclaimed Violet. John read on.

'It was a dismal story of an engagement to a clergyman's daughter; her
father just dead, she reduced to go out as a governess, and he having
half nothing of his own, mending the matter by working himself into a
low fever, and doing his best to rid her of all care on his account. Of
course I rowed him well, but I soon found I had the infection--a bad fit
of soft-heartedness came over me.'

'Oh!' cried Violet, 'he gives up for this poor man's sake.'

'I thought all peace was over if I was to see poor Evans enacting the
enamoure