him, and he was black in the face. It was
only by a prompt and bold application of
leeches and lancet, that the life of the great
man was saved. But there was an end of all
further friendship between himself and the
expectant Simon. He insisted that he should
withdraw from the concern, and it was done.
Simon, who felt his own dignity deeply
wounded too, for dignity he had, though the
last of a long line of paupers—his own dignity,
not his ancestors'—  took silently, yet not
unrespectfully, his share—a good, round sum,
and entered another house of business.

For several years there appeared to be a
feud and a bitterness between the former
friends; yet it showed itself in no other
manner than by a careful avoidance of each
other. The continental war came to an end;
the manufacturing distress increased exceedingly.
There came troublous times, and a
fierce warfare of politics. Great Stockington
was torn asunder by rival parties. On one
side stood pre-eminent, Mr. Spires; on the
other towered conspicuously, Simon Deg.
Simon was grown rich, and extremely popular.
He was on all occasions the advocate of the
people. He said that he had sprung from,
and was one of them. He had bought a large
tract of land on one side of the town; and
intensely fond of the country and flowers
himself, he had divided this into gardens,
built little summer-houses in them, and let
them to the artisans. In his factory he had
introduced order, cleanliness, and ventilation,
He had set up a school for the children in the
evenings, with a reading-room and conversation-room
for the workpeople, and encouraged
them to bring their families there, and enjoy
music, books, and lectures. Accordingly, he
was the idol of the people, and the horror of
the old school of the manufacturers.

"A pretty upstart and demagogue I've
nurtured," said Mr. Spires often, to his wife and
daughter, who only sighed, and were silent.

Then came a furious election. The town,
for a fortnight, more resembled the worst
corner of Tartarus than a Christian borough.
Drunkenness, riot, pumping on one another,
spencering one another, all sorts of violence
and abuse ruled and raged till the blood of all
Stockington was at boiling heat. In the
midst of the tempest were everywhere seen,
ranged on the opposite sides, Mr. Spires, now
old and immensely corpulent, and Simon Deg,
active, buoyant, zealous, and popular beyond
measure. But popular though he still was,
tho other and old tory side triumphed. The
people were exasperated to madness; and,
when the chairing of the successful candidate
commenced, there was a terrific attack made
on the procession by the defeated party.
Down went the chair, and the new member,
glad to escape into an inn, saw his friends
mercilessly assailed by the populace. There
was a tremendous tempest of sticks, brick-bats,
paving-stones, and rotten eggs. In the
midst of this, Simon Deg, and a number of
his friends, standing at the upper window of
an hotel, saw Mr. Spires knocked down, and
trampled on by the crowd. In an instant,
and, before his friends had missed him from
amongst them, Simon Deg was seen darting
through the raging mass, cleaving his way
with a surprising vigour, and gesticulating, and
no doubt shouting vehemently to the rioters,
though his voice was lost in the din. In the
next moment, his hat was knocked off, and
himself appeared in imminent danger: but,
another moment, and there was a pause, and
a group of people were bearing somebody
from the frantic mob into a neighbouring
shop. It was Simon Deg, assisting in the rescue
of his old friend and benefactor, Mr. Spires.

Mr. Spires was a good deal bruised, and
wonderfully confounded and bewildered by his
fall. His clothes were one mass of mud, and
his face was bleeding copiously; but when he
had had a good draught of water, and his
face washed, and had time to recover himself,
it was found that he had received no serious
injury.
   " They had like to have done for me though,"
said he.
   " Yes, and who saved you? " asked a
gentleman.
   " Ay, who was it? who was it? " asked
the really warm-hearted manufacturer; " let
me know? I owe him my life."
   " There he is! " said several gentlemen, at
the same instant, pushing forward Simon Deg.
   " What, Simon! " said Mr. Spires, starting
to his feet. "Was it thee, my boy?" He
did more, he stretched out his hand: the
young man clasped it eagerly, and the two
stood silent, and, with a heart-felt emotion,
which blended all the past into forgetfulness,
and the future into a union more sacred than
esteem.

A week hence, and Simon Deg was the son-in-law
of Mr. Spires. Though Mr. Spires
had misunderstood Simon, and Simon had
borne the aspect of opposition to his old
friend, in defence of conscientious principle,
the wife and daughter of the manufacturer
had always understood him, and secretly
looked forward to some day of recognition
and re-union.

Simon Deg was now the richest man in
Stockington. His mother was still living to
enjoy his elevation. She had been his excellent
and wise housekeeper, and she con
tinued
to occupy that post still.

Twenty-five years afterwards, when the
worthy old Spires was dead, and Simon Deg
had himself two sons attained to manhood;
when he had five times been Mayor of Stockington,
and had been knighted on the presentation
of a loyal address; still his mother
was living to see it; and William Watson, the
shoemaker, was acting as the sort of orderly
at Sir Simon's chief manufactory. He occupied
the Lodge, and walked about, and saw that
all was safe, and moving on as it should do.

It was amazing how the most plebeian