arishes. Shirley was sanguine that the evil she
wished to avert was almost escaped, that the threatened storm was
passing over. With the approach of summer she felt certain that trade
would improve--it always did; and then this weary war could not last for
ever; peace must return one day. With peace, what an impulse would be
given to commerce!

Such was the usual tenor of her observations to her tenant, Gerard
Moore, whenever she met him where they could converse; and Moore would
listen very quietly--too quietly to satisfy her. She would then by her
impatient glance demand something more from him--some explanation, or at
least some additional remark. Smiling in his way, with that expression
which gave a remarkable cast of sweetness to his mouth, while his brow
remained grave, he would answer to the effect that himself too trusted
in the finite nature of the war; that it was indeed on that ground the
anchor of his hopes was fixed; thereon his speculations depended. "For
you are aware," he would continue, "that I now work Hollow's Mill
entirely on speculation. I sell nothing; there is no market for my
goods. I manufacture for a future day. I make myself ready to take
advantage of the first opening that shall occur. Three months ago this
was impossible to me; I had exhausted both credit and capital. You well
know who came to my rescue, from what hand I received the loan which
saved me. It is on the strength of that loan I am enabled to continue
the bold game which, a while since, I feared I should never play more.
Total ruin I know will follow loss, and I am aware that gain is
doubtful; but I am quite cheerful. So long as I can be active, so long
as I can strive, so long, in short, as my hands are not tied, it is
impossible for me to be depressed. One year--nay, but six months--of the
reign of the olive, and I am safe; for, as you say, peace will give an
impulse to commerce. In this you are right; but as to the restored
tranquillity of the neighbourhood, as to the permanent good effect of
your charitable fund, I doubt. Eleemosynary relief never yet
tranquillized the working-classes--it never made them grateful; it is
not in human nature that it should. I suppose, were all things ordered
aright, they ought not to be in a position to need that humiliating
relief; and this they feel. We should feel it were we so placed.
Besides, to whom should they be grateful? To you, to the clergy perhaps,
but not to us mill-owners. They ha