children in all my born days. But there, they take after me, and I never could abear school. Never mind, miss. Don't take any more trouble with 'em; they shall come home with me. It ain't no good my trying to send 'em to school, so I think I will give it up, and they shall stay at home in future."

'I hope you will not do so," said the teacher, "for in that case they will grow up ignorant."

"Well, that won't matter, miss. Them as is higorant grows up as jolly as them as ain't, for all I can see, so I shan't force my children to come to school."

Arthur was more than ever determined to do all that a man could do to make the people familiar with the thought of compulsory education, for he felt sure that that was the only way in which to save children from the results of their own foolishness, and the indifference and neglect of their friends.

CHAPTER II.-THE AGITATOR.

Arthur Dalebury would neither rest himself nor let others rest until he had gained his end. He taught in his schools, but as soon as his work there was over he was away to some other place, speaking or lecturing about the cause that was dear to him. No one could say a word against this, for he was so beloved, and his efforts were so successful in his school, that the numbers had become, first double, and then treble that which they were before he had the oversight of the school. He made it so evident, both to the scholars and their parents, that he had their best interests at heart, that he had no difficulty in getting his children to attend regularly. He bad his boys now, and long had had them, under most perfect control, and it was known throughout the town that no master was so successful in making good boys and clever boys as Mr. Dalebury. He had, he thought, found his right work, for it was work that he loved, and which he could do successfully. But there is a Divine law, that to him that hath shall be given, and that those workers who have been faithful over few things shall be rulers over many things; and Arthur Dalebury was sure to find that there were yet higher duties in store for him. He was courageous, and, as the reader knows, self reliant, and it occurred to him to form a young men's class, and if possible stir up their enthusiasm, and make of them good workmen who needed not to be ashamed. This was one of his ways of doing good. He had them in his school when they could come. He marked out a course of study for them, and gave them all sorts of help and encourage

ment.

"I should like to send one of my thirty teachers to the thirty

largest towns in the kingdom," he said, and they caught the idea and did their best to carry it out.

Then he wrote a letter to each of the members of Parliament.

"I will not have it printed," so he decided, "or it may share the fate of too many pamphlets, and be carelessly thrown aside, but I will write a letter, short and pithy, which I hope they will read." The letter was after the following fashion :-"Sir, will you kindly read the accompanying figures, by which I have endeavoured to give you the school accommodation of some of the largest towns, and the probable number of children who do not go to school. The revised code is doing much; but not enough. May I respectfully suggest to you that while children are sent early to work and parents are both obstinate and indifferent with regard to the education of them, it is not enough to trust to the existing law. If the children of the poor are to be educated, some other power of compulsion must be brought to bear upon them. Has not the time come when the example of other countries may be followed with regard to this matter, so that it shall not longer be said that the children of England are less educated than those of other lands?— I am, &c., ARTHUR DALEBURY."

Then he went about to other towns. As soon as his own young men and the pupil teachers of his school were sufficiently advanced to begin work in the morning without him he sought and made engagements with other towns. Sometimes he went to talk to the children, and sometimes to the parents. Whenever he heard of a ragged school he tried to become acquainted with the manager, with whom he would arrange for certain evenings, and by the promise, sometimes of buns and coffee, sometimes of magic-lantern exhibitions, contrive to get a congregation.

He was glad to see the respectable well-to-do artisan, but he did not care so much for these as for those who were lower down in the social scale. He knew that, generally speaking, a man who earns a couple of sovereigns a week has sense enough to know the value of education. He quite understood that the people who are thoughtful and industrious are the people who fill British National and infants' schools with children. But he wanted to reach those who did not know how necessary it was that the children of the next generation should be wiser and better informed than their parents, and he was never so happy as when talking to such.

"My dear children," he would say, when he had got a lot of ragged little urchins to come together to hear him sing, or to see some pictures, "do you go to school?"

His question was very likely answered by some rude remarks. "Not for Joe!" "No; we aint such fools!" No; do you?” "Yes, I go to school, and I'm glad and thankful to say that I

you these

have been there all my life. That is how it is I can show magic-lantern views, and sing to you. I should not be able to do nearly as much as I do if I had not been to school. Have you any money?"

"You won't get none out of us. You said it was free."

And so it is. I don't want your money. I will venture to say that there is not one among you who can hold up balf-a-crown which you can honestly call your own. Would not you like to have some money?"

"Yes; have you got any to give us

"No; but I can tell you how you can get some for yourselves." "Work-that's what you are going to say."

"Yes, for that is the way to be rich; but you will always have to do the commonest work, and that which is the least paid, unless you go to school and learn the way to do the best work. The best work always gets the best money. You don't want to be or chimney sweepers, or beggars all your lives, do you?" "No, sir."

scavengers,

"Would not you like to have an engine, and manage it for yourselves? Would not you like to get three or four pounds a-week when you grow up, and begin with ten shillings a-week while you are lads?"

"Yes, of course, we should."

"But if you cannot read and write, what are you good for? You can hold a gentleman's horse, and have a halfpenny flung to you for doing it, but you will never have a horse of your own. You can do some hard work in a factory, but you will never employ men to work for you. Why don't you give up playing at pitch-and-toss, and go to school? Never mind if you do have to wash your faces, and sit still and learn to behave like gentlemen. It will do you good, and you will be glad of it as long as you live. Ask your father and mother to let you go. If you are at work all day, go to a night school. Don't be content to be ignorant any longer.. Make up your mind to be clever boys, and you will be."

In this way many hundreds of children were roused to think for themselves that it was a shame for them to have so few privileges, and some parents were so teased that they were glad to send the children to school, in order, as they said, to have a little peace. He talked to the parents in words that were equally strong. "Why don't you have your rights?" he said. "What cowards you are not to rise up as one man, and say, 'Let my children be taught.' I tell you that if you cannot afford to pay for their education, the State must do so. Why should not your sons have a chance in the world? There is no monopoly of brains. God has made the children of the poor man as sharp and intelligent as

those of the rich man. I have looked at the heads of some of your youngsters; they are noble heads, capable of thinking good and useful thoughts. But you must send them to school. Do you say you cannot spare them? But I tell you that you must spare them. You do not deserve the name of parent if you cannot make some sacrifices for your children. You have no business to keep them in ignorance. I tell you that there are changes coming. Before long, every office will be given to the most deserving, and then your children will stand as good a chance as those of other people. Why should not your sons be lawyers, bankers, engineers, painters, preachers—yes, and even members of Parliament too? There is only one reason. You will make them grow up ignorant and good for nothing, because you will not take the trouble to send them to school. Fie upon you! I am ashamed of your neglect. I tell you that your children will curse you in the years that are to come if you make no effort to teach them now. Oh, fathers and mothers, lay this matter to heart, and resolve that your children shall be better off than you have been; that they shall go to good schools, where they may be taught how to live and how to die."

The teachers of the different day-schools used to say that a speech from Mr. Dalebury filled their schools better than canvassing the town would have done. And before he had been many years engaged in his good work, the whole country was moved by the consideration of the new Education Act, which did provide that every child should be taught to read and write, and made able to take his part in the great world.

CHAPTER III.-"THE MOST ENVIABLE LADY IN LONDON." "There goes the most enviable young lady in all London." "Indeed! Who is she? One of the Princesses ? "

"No; and therefore she has not the cares of one. The lady is Miss Heshbon. She is young, beautiful, and beloved; she has more admirers than she can count, and is heiress to an immense fortune."

"Ah! But money sometimes takes to itself wings, and flies away."

6.

Not Mr. Heshbon's money, or if it does, it soon flies back again, bringing plenty of company with it. Only a week or two ago he bought some land somewhere in the country, and this week I am told it contains a very valuable lot of ironstone."

"Indeed! Do you know the young lady who is to come in for all the ironstone ?

"Oh, yes; Angie and I are great friends, for although her father is twice as rich as mine, and Angie is twice as beautiful as I, that is no reason why I should be jealous of her."

"Could you introduce me? Or would that be trespassing too far upon your good-nature ?"

"Oh, I will introduce you with pleasure; but "-and the girl's eyes had a merry twinkle in them-"you must take care of your heart, for Angie has a habit of stealing hearts."

"That does not matter if she gives her own in exchange."

"But that is just what she does not do. Somehow or other she knows how to take care of her own. Will you risk it now?" "Oh, yes; I am not afraid."

A few minutes afterwards the introduction was made. "Sir Charles Westlake, Miss Heshbon."

Sir Charles thought he had never been smiled upon so sweetly before, and he rather liked, at first sight, the "most enviable lady in London." She talked freely, and yet she was quite removed from the girls whom he often met, and who adopted the language of their brothers and cousins rather than that of refined ladies. He was glad to meet one of a very different type-a quiet, selfreliant girl, quite able to hold her own, and yet generous and gentle enough to be fair in argument, and good-tempered under defeat. So much he saw and understood before they had been talking together for ten minutes, and he was so delighted that he felt sorry when presently an old friend came up and took her away.

As for Angie, she thought she had never seen quite so handsome a man before, and his conversation had a great charm for her. Angie had a musical ear, and nothing pleased her more than a pleasant voice, especially when it said sensible things. Sir Charles Westlake had a good voice, and he knew how to make the best of it. It had served him many a time to express what he wished, and was grave or gay, tender or stern, according to his behest. He had once overcome a very outspoken dislike in one of his relatives by his voice, and he had used it to good purpose ever since. He did not mean to fall in love with Miss Heshbon, nor to awaken the tender feeling in her heart, so he said to himself; but that was no reason why he should not be glad when another opportunity of speaking to her came, nor why he should not eagerly improve it.

Mrs. Heshbon was also introduced, and she liked the young man. She thought he had a good face and a frank manner. She certainly had no objection to his title, and she had been told that he was very rich.

Mrs. Heshbon confessed sometimes to her most intimate friends that she would really be glad to see Angie settled. Not that she wanted to part from her child, for she was too fond of her for that, and she believed it would break her father's heart; but still you never knew what an impulsive girl, who was her own mistress, might do. And though she could trust her child, who