being long-continuing, patient, quiet haters, or lovers, or sufferers. They were alike also in the breadth of view with which they regarded any question, and in their freedom from being influenced by the opinions of the comparatively inferior people who surrounded them. They were thus a little too much alike to fulfil the condition which, according to Plato, has been laid down for perfect happiness in love.

Not that there is not always an immense difference between the masculine and the feminine soul, even when they are apparently cast in the same mould.

Realmah did not know all this. In fact, he was one of those men who all their lives remain very ignorant of the nature of women. We have seen

how deluded he was in his estimate of Talora's merits. But then great men are so easily deceived: indeed, you may often measure the greatness of the man by his liability to be deceived. Not if his attention is aroused; not if he brings the powers of his mind to bear upon the question; but, in the ordinary course of life, he is very apt to believe too much both in men and women.

Realmah, as I have said above, was happily unconscious of these fine distinctions and subtleties in love. He thought his Ainah perfection, and never imagined that a more joyous and more resonant nature

-a nature that did not quite partake his aspirations, though it might sympathise with them-a nature that would even have permitted her sometimes, playfully and tenderly, to laugh at him and make fun of him—

would, after all, have been a nature more fitted to amuse and distract him, and to lighten the burden of his cares.

The joy and comfort, however, that his Ainah was to Realmah at this critical period of his life were unspeakable. While he was at work in the forest he could, from the spot where his works were situated, obtain a view of a slight eminence which lay between his works and the town of Abibah. Evening after evening-for, alas! the Ainah began to be unable to come in the day-time-the descending sun threw its yellow rays upon the summit of that eminence; and a figure, which most people would not have thought remarkable for its grace or its beauty, made its way over the hill, walking in a certain resolute fashion— the Ainah having husbanded whatever little strength was left to her to appear strong to Realmah. That figure in his eyes, if in those of no other man, was pre-eminently attractive. He always paused in his work to regard it; and when it approached him, he looked to be cheered by the smiling welcome, and the truthful blue eyes, full of tender encouragement, which said to him, in that unwritten language well known amongst lovers, "If you have succeeded, I come to rejoice, as none other can rejoice, in your success; and, if you have failed, I come to tell you that your failure is only the failure of to-day, and

that to-morrow must be brighter."

It was a thing worth noticing, to see the cautious, wistful glance which the Ainah threw at the works,

and then at her husband's face, before she spoke to him, making up her mind as to the tenor of the few loving remarks which with low and sweet voice she would make to Realmah upon the labours of the day-her hand, now feverish and tremulous, softly clasped in his.

It is a bold assertion to make; but, such is the dulness of perception created by familiarity, that it may be asserted that we are often as unobservant of the change in the bodies of those we live with, as we are of their varying states of minds and of the movements of their affections.

Realmah, no doubt, noticed that the Ainah did not come in the day-time; but he did not attribute this to her failing strength, which prevented her from wandering about with him for hours. If he had been asked the cause of this change, he would have said that, though she was as much interested as ever in the result, the details of the work had probably by this time become rather wearisome to her. And he would perhaps have moralized upon the superior perseverance of men to women in dealing with these details -little imagining that to be with him was always pleasure enough for the Ainah; and that superintending the collection and distribution of these stones and the firewood was an employment at which she would never have grown weary as long as he was by her side.

CHAPTER XIX.

REALMAH'S SUCCESS.

WE left Realmah intent upon recommencing his work on the morrow. Wiser thoughts, however, took possession of his mind, and he resolved, before he commenced his own especial work, to regain, if possible, the good opinion of his countrymen. Deeply deliberating upon the folly of mankind, he came to the conclusion that he must maintain his influence with his nation by the ordinary arts of statesmen if he would successfully undertake any new invention. Wherever there are few real distinctions amongst mankind it is especially necessary to invent conventional distinctions. The chieftains therefore of the Sheviri were particularly careful by a composed gesture, by gravity of speech and solemnity of demeanour, to show that they were different from other men, and so to maintain and dignify their high position. When there are real distinctions amongst men, this is less necessary. For instance, in more civilized life, when a man is a distinguished scholar, or an eminent mathematician, or a profound lawyer, he need hardly care much about the dignity or the grace of his demeanour. He has his just influence from the special knowledge which he possesses.

Realmah, however, had to win the regard of his

countrymen by the arts that were usually employed by their chiefs. Some weeks passed by before he accomplished this result; but at last he did accomplish it, and began to feel himself strong enough in the good opinion of those about him to recommence his great work. Before doing so, however, he thought it prudent to communicate, in a vague way, his hopes and aims to several of his friends. He did not tell them that he hoped to melt stones into metal; but he mentioned that he had some ideas which might be wise, or might be foolish, but which he must endeavour to prove, and which had reference to improving their defences. He met with little encouragement; but he felt that he had at any rate told enough of his plan to prevent for the future any outbreak of excessive ridicule and hostility in the way of criticisms. He took care to promise that, when he had made some more experiments, he would open his mind. fully to his friends if there should be anything worth asking their advice about.

He had come to the conclusion, as we know, that his fires had been utterly insufficient. He now resolved to form them underground. For this purpose he dug a round pit, cementing it as well as he could with clay, formed an adit to it communicating with the surface of the ground, and then endeavoured to burn some of the stones which he had collected. This experiment was not successful; but he observed that he had produced a much fiercer fire. He now resolved to pay still greater attention to his fuel, of