have been if they had been unscrupulous about
pressing their customer hard. Any one but
Arthur would have been made to yield more
wealth than this ; but they were well content
with having pleased him, and repaired in part the
losses of the morning.
Other parties left little to be removed in
preparation for the Sunday. Having carried
home their purchases first, they returned for the
Small remainder of their stock ; and the evening
closed with a sort of minor frolic, the children
running after the stray feathers their mothers were
sweeping away, and the men ranging logs for
seats, and providing a platform and desk for the
use of Dr. Sneyd. One or two serious people
were alarmed at the act of thus turning a house
of merchandise into a temple of worship; but
the greater number thought that the main consi-
deration was to gather together as many
Worshippers as could be collected in the heart of
their wilderness. Such an accession as was now
promised to their congregation seemed to mark
an era in the history of their community.
Temmy was fond of feeling his grandfather's
hand upon his shoulder any day of the week;
Gtl SUNDAY EVENING.
but on the Sunday evening, in particular, it was
delightful to the boy to share the leisure of the
family. Many a tale of old times had Mrs.
Sneyd then to tell ; many a curious secret of
things in earth, air, and heaven, had the doctor to
disclose ; and uncle Arthur was always ready to
hear of the doings of the last week, and to
promise favours for the time to come. It was
seldom that Temmy could enjoy a whole evening
of such pleasures ; ā only when Mr. Temple
chose to make an excursion, and carry his lady
with him, or to go to bed at eight o'clock because
his ennui had by that time become intolerable.
Usually, Temmy could be spared only for an
hour or two, and was sure to be fetched away iri
the midst of the most interesting of all his grand-
mamma's stories, or the most anxious of the
This evening, ā the evening of the day of
opening the market-house for worship, ā the poor
boy had given up all hope of getting beyond the
boundaries of the Lodge. Mr. Temple was, as
he said, very ill ; as every body else would have
said, ā in a very intolerable humour. He could
not bear sunshine or sound. His wife must sit
behind closed shutters, and was grievously
punished for her inability to keep the birds from
singing. Temmy must not move from the foot
of the sofa, except to ring the bell every two
minutes, and carry scolding messages every
quarter of an hour; in return for which he was
reproved till he cried for moving about, and
opening and shutting the door. At length, to
SUNDAY EVENING. 67
the great joy of every body, the gentleman went
to bed, having drunk as much wine as his bead
would bear, and finding no relief to his many
ailments from that sort of medicine. This final
measure was accomplished just in time for the
drawing-room windows to be thrown open to the
level rays of the sun, and the last breath of the
closing flowers. The wine was carried away.
and Ephraim called for to attend his young master
to Dr. Sneyd's. Temmy was to explain why
Mrs. Temple could not leave home this evening,
and he might stay till Dr. Sneyd himself should
think it time for him to return. Without the
usual formalities of pony, groom, and what not,
Temmy was soon on the way, and in another
half-hour had nearly forgotten papa's terrible
headache under the blessed influence of grand-
papa's ease of heart.
Uncle Arthur was sitting astride on the low
window-sill of the study, with Temmy hanging
on his shoulder, when a golden planet showed
itself above the black line of the forest. The
moon had not risen, so that there was no rival in
the heaven ; and when the evening had darkened
a little more, Temmy fancied that this bright orb
cast a faint light upon his grandfather's silver
hairs, and over uncle Arthur's handsome, weather-
browned face. Temmy had often heard that his
father had much beauty ; and certainly his picture
seemed to have been taken a great many times ;
yet the boy always forgot to look for this beauty
except when some of these pictures were brought
out, while he admired uncle Arthur's dark eyes,
68 SUNDAY EVENING."
and beautiful smile and high forehead, more and
more every time he saw him. It was very lucky
that uncle Arthur looked so well without com bin jr
his eye-brows, and oiling his hair, and using
three sorls of soap for his hands, and three diffe-
rent steel instruments, of mysterious construc-
tion, for his nails ; for the young farmer had no
time for such amusements. It was also well that
he was not troubled with fears for his complexion
from the summer's sun, or from the evening air
in the keenest night of winter. This was lucky,
even as far as his good looks were concerned,
for, if he looked well by candle-light, he looked
better in the joyous, busy noon ; and more dig-
nified still when taking his rest in the moonlight;
and, asTemmy now thought, noblest of all while
under the stars. If papa could see him now,
perhaps he would not laugh so very much as
usual about uncle Arthur's being tanned, and
letting his hair go as it would.
"Shall we mount to the telescopes, father V*
asked Arthur. " The bov will have time to en-
iov them to-ni^ht. I will take care of him home,
if Ephraim dares not stay."
Dr. Sneyd rose briskly, observing that it would
indeed be a pity to lose such an evening. Tern my
grasped his grandmamma's hand, hoping that
she was groinsr too. He scarcelv knew why, but
Do J J
he felt the observatory to be a very awful place,
particularly at night, when only a faint bluish
light came in through the crevices of the shifting
boards ; or a stray beam, mysteriously bright,
fell from the end of the slanting telescope, and
SUNDAY EVENING. 69
visibly moved on the floor. Grandpapa was rather
apt to forget Temmy when he once got into the
observatory, and to leave him shivering in a dark
corner, wondering why every body spoke low in
this place, and afraid to ask whether the stars
really made any music which mortal ears might
listen for. When grandpapa did remember the
boy, he was not aware that he was uneasy and
out of breath, but would call him here and send
him there, just as he did in the study in broad
daylight. It had been very different with grand-
mamma, the only time she had mounted hither
with him. She had held his hand all the while,
and found out that, tall as he was grown, he
could see better by sitting on her knee; and she
had clasped him round the waist, as if she had
found out that he trembled. Perhaps she had
heard his teeth chatter, though grandpapa did not.
Temmy hoped they would not chatter to-night,
as he did not wish that uncle Arthur should hear
them ; but Mrs. Sneyd was not to be at hand.
She declared that she should be less tired with
walking to the lodge than with mounting to the
observatory. She would go and spend an hour
with her daughter, and have some talk with
Ephraim by the way.
There needed no excuse for Temmy's being
out of breath, after mounting all the stairs in the
house, and the ladder of the observatory to boot ;
and the planet which he was to see being still
low in the sky was reason enough for uncle Ar-
thur to hold him up to the end of the telescope,
lie did not recover his breath, however, as the
70 SUNDAY EVENING.
moments passed on. This was a larger instru-
ment than he had ever looked through before, and
his present impressions were quite different from
any former experience. The palpable roundness
of the orb, the unfathomable black depth in which
it moved solitary, the silence, ā all were as if new
" You see it ?" asked Arthur.
" O, yes."
Another long silence, during which the boy
breathed yet more heavily.
Ā« You "see it still?"
" No, uncle Arthur."
" My dear boy, why did you not tell me ? We
must overtake it. There ! there it is once more !
You must not let it travel out of sight again."
" How can I stop it?" thought Temmy, and
he would fain have pressed his hands before his
eyes, as the silent vision traversed the space more
brightly and more rapidly, it seemed to him, every
moment. Arthur showed him, however, ā not
how to stop the planet, but how to move the
instrument so as not to lose sight of it : he then
put a stool under him, and told him he could now
manage for himself. Dr. Sneyd had something
to show his son on the other side of the heavens.
If Temmy had had the spheres themselves to
manage, he could scarcely have been in a greater
trepidation. He assured himself repeatedly that
friends were, at hand, but his head throbbed so
that he could scarcely hear their whispers, and
the orb now seemed to be dancing as he had
seen the reflection of the sun dance in a shaken
SUNDAY EVENING. 71
basin of water. He would look at something
else. He jerked the telescope, and flash went
one light after another before his eyes, as if the
stars themselves were going out with a blaze.
This would never do. He must look at some-
thing earthly. After another jerk to each side,
which did not serve his purpose, he pushed it up,
and saw ā something which might belong to any
of the worlds in being, ā for Temmy knew no more
about it than that it was most horrible. An
enormous black object swept across the area of
vision, again and again, as quick as lightning.
It would not leave off. Temmy uttered a shriek
of terror, and half slipped, half tumbled from his
11 What has the boy found ? What can be the
matter?" asked grandpapa. Arthur presently
laughed, and told Temmy he was very clever to
have found what he should have thought it very
difficult to discover from this place ā Arthur's
own mill ; ā the new windmill on the mound,
whose sails were now turning rapidly in the even-
ing breeze. It was some comfort to learn that
his panic was not much to be wondered at.
Uncle Arthur knew what it was to take in too
near a range with a large telescope. He had
done so once, and had been startled with an ap-
parition of two red cheeks and two staring blue
eyes, apparently within half an inch of the end of
his own nose.
" Here, Temmy," said Dr. Sneyd, " try whe-
ther you can read in this book."
" Shall I go and get a candle, grandpapa?"
7% SUNDAY EVENING.
*' No, no. I want to see whether a little star
yonder will be our candle. Lay the book in this
gleam of light, and try whether you can read.''
Many strange things were still whisking before
Temmy's eyes, but he could make out the small
print of the book. He was then shown the star
that gave the li^ht, ā one of the smallest in a
bright constellation. He heartily wished that
nobody would ask him to look at any more stars
to-night, and soon managed to slip away to the
little table, and show that he was amused with
turning a greater and a lesser light upon the
book, and showing with how little he could
read the title-page, and with how much the small
type of the notes. The next pleasant thing that
happened was the lamp being lighted.
" Father," said Arthur, " you seldom have me
for an assistant now. I am neither tired nor busy
to-night, and the sky is clear. Suppose we make
a long watch."
Dr. Sneyd was only too happy. He produced
a light in one of his magical ways, and hung the
shade on the lamp, while Arthur arranged his
pens and paper, and laid his watch on the table.
Dr. Sneyd took his place at the best telescope
now in readiness, after various screwings and un-
screwing, and shiftings of the moveable boards.
Arthur meanwhile was cutting a pencil, with
which he invited Temmy to draw beside him.
Uncle Arthur thought Temmy would draw very
well if he chose. In a little while nothing was
to be heard but the brief directions of Dr. Sneyd
to his secretary, and the ticking of the watch on
SUNDAY EVENING*. 73
Temmy was fast asleep, with his head resting
on his drawing, when he was called from below,
to go home.
" Just see him down the ladder," said Dr.
" No, thank you, grandpapa ; I can 'always
get down." In truth, Temmy always went down
much more quickly than he came up.
The next time a cloud came in the way, Dr.
" Temple is ruining that boy. He will leave
him no nerve, ā no sense. What will his many
thousand acres be worth to him without ?"
" Do you think he will ever have those many
thousand acres, sir ?"
" I almost wish he may not. Perhaps his best
chance would be in his being left to manage for
himself in some such way as you have done, Ar-
thur. Such a call on his energies would be the
best thing for him, if it did not come too late.
Arthur had a strong persuasion that it might
come at any time. He was by no means satisfied
that the many thousand acres were still Temple's.
He was very sure that much of the gentleman's
wealth must have evaporated during his incessant
transmutations of meadows into pleasure-grounds,
and flower-gardens into shrubberies, and hot-
houses into baths, and stables into picturesque
cottages, and cottages into stables again. He
was seldom seen three times on the same horse ;
and it was certain that the money he had locked
up in land would never be productive while he
remained its owner. Who would come and
74 SUNDAY EVENINCJ.
settle under such a proprietor, when land as good,
and liberty to boot, was to be had elsewhere?
Temple himself was "contracting his cultivation
every year. The more he laid out unproductively,
the less remained to be employed productively.
If Arthur had had one-tenth part of what Temple
had wasted since he settled at Briery Creek, his
days of anxiety and excessive toil might have
been over long ago.
" It is all for the best, Arthur. You would
not have been happy in the possession of Tem-
ple's money, subject to his caprices, poor man S
Nobody is more easy than I am under pecuniary
obligation ; but all depends on the quarter whence
it comes, and the purposes for which the assist-
ance is designed. I accepted this observatory
from you, you remember, when I knew that it
cost you something to give up your time and
labour to it ; and I dare say I should have ac-
cepted the same thing from Temple, if he had
happened to offer it, because, in such a case, the
good of science could be the only object. But,
if I were you, I would rather work my own way
up in the world than connect myself with such a
man as Temple. The first time he wanted some-
thing to fidget himself about, he would be for
calling out of your hands all he had lent you."
" One would almost bear such a risk," said
Arthur, " for the sake of the settlement. My
poor sister makes the best of matters by talking
everywhere of the quantity of labour her husband
employs. But I think she must see that that
employment must soon come to an end if no
SUNDAY EVENING. 75
returns issue from it. I am sure I should be
glad to employ much more labour, and in a way
which would yield a maintenance for a still greater
quantity next year, if I had the laying out of the
money Temple wastes on his caprices. I am not
complaining, father, on my own account. My
hardest time is over, and I shall soon be doing as-
well as I could wish. I am now thinking of the
interests of the place at large. It seems too hard
that the richest man among us should at the same
time keep away new settlers by holding more
land than he can cultivate, waste his capital, in-
stead of putting it out to those who would employ
it for his and the common good, and praise him-
self mightily for his liberal expenditure, holding
the entire community obliged to him for it, every
time he buys a new luxury which will yield no
good beyond his own selfish pleasure."
" I am afraid you think the community has
little to thank me for, Arthur ? Perhaps, in our
present state of affairs, the money 1 have ought to
go towards tilling the ground, instead of explor-
ing the heavens."
" My dear sir, no. I differ from you entirely.
You do not live beyond your income, nor "
" Give your mother the credit of that, Arthur.
But for her, my little property would have flown
up to the moon long ago."
" But, father, I was going to say that what I
and others here produce is but the means of
living, after all. It would be deplorable to sacri-
fice the end to them."
11 What end ? Do you mean the pleasure of
76 SUNDAY EVENING.
star-gazing? I should be delighted to hear
" Pleasure, ā whether of star-gazing, or of any-
thing else that is innocent and virtuous, ā that is
really happiness. If Temple is really happy
over his foreign wines, I am sure I have no more
objection to his drinking them than to my men
enjoying their cider. Let it be his end, if he is ca-
pable of no higher, as long as his pleasures do not
consume more than his income. Much more may
I be willing that you should enjoy your star-
gazing, when out of the gratification to yourself
arises the knowledge which ennobles human life,
and the truth for which, if we do not live now,
we shall assuredly live hereafter."
" I have always trusted, Arthur, that the means
which have been bestowed upon me would not
prove to be lost. Otherwise, I would have taken
my axe on my shoulder, and marched off to the
forest with you."
" Father, it is for such as you that forests and
prairies should be made to yield double, if the
skill of man could ensure such fruitfulness. It
is for such as you that the husbandman should
lead forth his sons before the dawn, and in-
struct them to be happy ' in toiling for him
whose light in yon high place is yet twinkling, ā
who has been working out God's truth for men's
use while they slept."
" Our husbandmen are not of the kind you
speak of, Arthur. I see them look up as they
pass, as if they thought this high chamber a folly
of the same sort as Temple's Chinese alcove."
SUNDAY EVENING. 77
" I think you mistake them, sir. I can answer
for those with whom I have to do. They see all
the difference between Temple's restless discon-
tent and your cheerfulness. They see that he
has no thought beyond himself, while you have
objects of high and serious interest ever before
your mind's eye ; objects which, not compre-
hending, they can respect, because the issue is a
manifestation of wisdom and benignity."
" Enough ! enough !" cried the doctor. " I
have no complaint to make of my neighbours, I
am sure. I should be a very ungrateful man, if I
fancied I had. 1 am fully aware of the general dis-
position of men to venerate science, and to afford
large aid to those who pursue it, on a principle of
faith in its results. My belief in this is not at
all shaken by what befel me in England ; but, as
I have appeared here accidentally, ā a philoso-
pher suddenly lighting in an infant community
instead of having grown up out of it, it was fair
to doubt the light in which I am regarded. If
the people hated me as a magician, or despised
me as an idle man, I think it would be no won-
" I am glad you hold your faith, father, in the
natural veneration of society for the great ends
of human life. I believe it must be a strong in-
fluence, indeed, which can poison men's minds
against their legislators, and philosophers, and
other wise men who neither dig nor manufacture.
I believe it must be such a silver tongue as never
yet spoke that could persuade any nation that its
philosophers are not its best benefactors."
78 SUNDAY EVENING.
True. It was not the English nation that
drove me hither ; and those who did it never
complained of my pursuits, ā only of what they
supposed my principles. I wish I could bear all
the sorrow of the mistake.''
" Be satisfied to let them bear some of it,
father. It will help to guard them against a re-
petition of it. I am sure your own share is
" In one sense it is, Arthur. Do you know,
I find myself somewhat changed. I perceive it
when I settle myself down to my pursuits ; and
to a greater extent than I anticipated. It may
be owing in part to the want of the facilities I
had enjoyed for so many years, and never thought
to part with more. I sometimes wonder whether
I should be the same man again at home, anion ec
But let all that pass. What I was thinking
of, and what your mother and I oftenest think of,
is the hardship of your having to bear a part, ā
so large a part in our misfortune. I should won-
der to see you toiling as you do, from month to
month, ā (for I know that wealth is no great
object with you,) ā if I did not suspect But
I beg your pardon. I have no right to force
" Go on, father."
" Well, to say the truth, I suspect that you
left something more behind you than you gave
us reason to suppose. If you had not come of
your own free choice, this idea would have made
both your mother and me very unhappy."
" 1 have hopes that she will come, father. I
SUNDAY EVENING. 79
have been waiting to tell you, only for a prospect
of the time when I might go for her. Nothing
is settled, or I would have told you long ago ; but
I have hopes."
Dr. Sneyd was so long silent, thinking how
easily the use of some of Temple's wasted money
would have completed Arthur's happiness ere this,
ā benefiting Temple and the whole community at
the same time, ā that his son feared he was dis-
appointed. He had no apprehension of his being
displeased at any part of his conduct.
M I hoped the prospect would have given you
pleasure, father," he said, in a tone of deep mor-
41 My dear son, so it does ā the greatest satis-
faction, I assure you ; though, indeed, I do not
know how you were to become aware of it with-
out my telling you. I know my wife's opinion
of her to be the same as my own. I only hope
she will be to you all that may repay you for
what you have been to us : indeed, I have no
doubt of it."
Arthur was perfectly happy ; happy enough to
observe that the clouds were parting, and that, ā
as science had been so lately pronounced the
great end for which his father was living, ā it
was a pity his observations should not be re-
" If science be the great object we think it,"
observed the doctor the next time he was obliged
to suspend his labours, " it seems strange that it
should be pursued by so few. At present, for
one who devotes himself to the end, thousands
80 SUNDAY EVENING.
look not beyond the mere means of living. I am
not afraid to call it the end to you, though I
would not have done so in my pulpit this morn-
ing without explanation. We understand one
" Perfectly; that since the full recognition of
truth is virtue, science is the true end. I hope,
I believe, I discern the method by which more
and more labour will be withdrawn from -the
means to be transferred to the end. For a long
time past, ā <-ever since I have been in the habit
of comparing you and your pursuits with the
people about you and their pursuits ā ever since
I came here, ā I have been arriving at my pre-
sent conviction, that every circumstance of our
social condition, ā the most trifling worldly in-
terest of the meanest of us, ā bears its relation
to this great issue, and aids the force of tendency
" You have come hither for something worth
gaining, then : it is worth while to cross land
and sea for such a conviction. Can I aid you
with confirmation from the stars V
" No doubt ; for all knowledge, come whence
it may, ā from incalculable heights or unfathom-
able depths, ā all new knowledge of the forces of
nature affords the means of setting free a quan-
tity of human labour to be turned to new pur-
poses. In the infancy of the race, the mind had
no instruments but the unassisted hands. By
degrees, the aid of other natural forces was called
in ; by degrees, those forces have been overruled
to more and more extended purposes, and further
SUNDAY EVENING. 81
powers brought into subjection, setting free, at
every nevv stage of acquisition, an immense pro-
portion of human labour, and affording a glimpse,
ā almost too bright to be met by our yet feeble
vision, ā of times when material production ā the
means of living, shall be turned over to the ma-
chinery of nature, only superintended by man,
whose life may then be devoted to science,
* worthy of the name,' which may, in its turn,
have then become the means to some yet higher
end than is at present within our ken."
M In those days, then, instead of half-a-dozen
labourers being virtuously employed in produc-