nce is not a wise one."

"These are marvellous sentiments to hear from one whose craft has
risen to a proverb, and whose address in life is believed to be not his
meanest gift."

"I accept the irony in all good humor; I go farther, Glencore, I stoop
to explain. When any one in the great and eventful journey of life seeks
to guide himself safely, he has to weigh all the considerations, and
calculate all the combinations adverse to him. The straight road is
rarely, or never, possible; even if events were, which they are not,
easy to read, they must be taken in combination with others, and with
their consequences. The path of action becomes necessarily devious and
winding, and compromises are called for at every step. It is not in the
moment of shipwreck that a man stops to inquire into petty details of
the articles he throws into a long-boat; he is bent on saving himself as
best he can. He seizes what is next to him, if it suit his purpose. Now,
were he to act in this manner in all the quiet security of his life on
shore, his conduct would be highly blamable. No emergency would warrant
his taking what belonged to another,--no critical moment would drive
him to the instinct of self-preservation. Just the same is the interval
between action and reflection. Give me time and forethought, and I will
employ something better and higher than craft. My subtlety, as you like
to call it, is not my best weapon; I only use it in emergency."

"I read the matter differently," said Glencore, sulkily; "I could,
perhaps, offer another explanation of your practice."

"Pray let me hear it; we are all in confidence here, and I promise you I
will not take badly whatever you say to me."

Glencore sat silent and motionless.

"Come, shall I say it for you, Glencore? for I think I know what is
passing in your mind."

The other nodded, and he went on,--

"You would tell me, in plain words, that I keep my craft for myself; my
high principle for my friends."

Glencore only smiled, but Upton continued,--

"So, then, I have guessed aright; and the very worst you can allege
against this course is, that what I bestow is better than what I
retain!"

"One of Solomon's proverbs may be better than a shilling; but which
would a hungry man rather have? I want no word-fencing, Upton; still
less do I seek what might sow distrust between us. This much, however,
has life taught me: the great trials of this world are like its great
maladies. Providenc