Then Tilly comes. water to Greenwich. One has to live | particular sect, as because the Baptist in Thames Street, perhaps, to know chapel is very handy, the minister affawhat a temptation such an expedition ble, and the footstools large, fat, comrepresents. The land surveyor's wife fortable ones of a showy red baize. sends Martha a cheap petticoat for a "But it'd be sooperstition to let Christmas present. It is beautifully them 'assicks stand in the way of my striped in many colors, and Martha niece," Martha says thoughtfully to says, "It's too good for my likes," and herself. The 'assicks do not stand in puts it tenderly away in a drawer for Tilly's way. In a day or two Martha, Tilly. For Tilly's sake she denies her- with an optimistic smile on her wrinself sugar in her tea. For Tilly's sake kled old face, may be seen providing she creeps about the old house in boots Ritualistic books of devotion to devout so aged that the tea merchant is con-young gentlemen who have come to strained to speak to her severely on her church to attend Prime. disreputable appearance. For Tilly's Martha has sake she goes to bed early to save can- house-cleaned her room for Tilly's redles, and lies awake hour after hour ception. She has not, indeed, housewith her old thoughts to keep her com- cleaned it very thoroughly, partly pany. For Tilly's sake she daily makes, because she has not had time and is in fact, the thousand little sacrifices of seventy years old and a little feeble, which only a great love is capable. and partly because Martha has never cleaned anything thoroughly, including herself. But she has blown the dust off most things, and put up a piece of new window curtain. She has bought a shilling looking-glass for Tilly's benefit, Martha never seeing her own kind, tender, wrinkled, grubby old countenance from year's end to year's end. She has provided quite a sumptuous Then Martha seeks some new em-tea-with sugar. She has made the ployment. Her old heart sinks when a bed almost neatly. She has, in fact, week has passed and she has failed to done everything that love can suggest find it. For herself she can live on to her. almost nothing. But Tilly is seventeen now, and is coming up to London next year. Martha would rather starve than take a penny from her money-box. She has called it Tilly's money so long that she really believes now to spend it would be robbing Tilly of her own. She is reduced to selling 'Enery - with tears. He fetches a very, very small sum, and Martha has loved him as if he were a human creature. The theological work presented by the Bible Christian minister goes also, aud Martha, who has never read it, cannot see the vacant place on the table because of the mist in her old eyes. The tea merchant, exasperated beyond bearing at last at her incompetence, tells her her services will be no longer required. On consideration, perhaps, of her having inquired tenderly after his relations every morning for an indefinite number of years, he consents to her still occupying the attic on the payment of a modest rent. At last she is engaged by the parish clergyman to clean the church. Up to this period Martha has been a Baptist not so much because she has a leaning towards that particular sect, or any Before she goes out in the frowsy bonnet and ancient shawl to meet Tilly at the station she takes a last look, through eyes proudly and tenderly dim, at Tilly's picture. The day has come for which she has been working for years, for which she has denied herself gladly, for which she has yearned and prayed. She can feel her heart beating quicker under the threadbare shawl, and her hands tremble a little. She is much too early for the train, and has to wait so long in the waitingroom where she has arranged to meet Tilly that she falls into a doze. A robust female with a developed figure, a tight waist, and a flowery hat, nudges her at last impatiently with a tin hatbox. "Lor, aunt!" says Tilly, “what with you so shabby, and snoring so un 66 It was genteel in a public place, I 'ardly liked | she can see distinctly the poor little to own yer." improvements she made for Tilly's My dear!" cries Martha in a trem- coming. She turns the cheap lookingbling voice. "My dear! My dear!" glass with its face to the wall. and she puts her withered old arms meant to reproduce Tilly, buxom and round the girl's neck, and kisses her twenty, and not Martha, poor, old, and cries over her for happiness. ugly, and disappointed. She catches sight of Tilly's picture at four years old "What a take on to be sure!" says Tilly, who is perfectly practical. "Let's-Tilly, stolid enough indeed, but go 'ome." little, loving, and good. And Martha And they go home and begin life cries, and buries her head in her arms; together. and the tears mark grimy courses down her furrowed cheeks. If you she says. me." could 'a trusted me, Tilly," "If you would but 'a trusted For a month Martha is happy. She is happy at least so far that she can watch the accomplished Tilda reading a novelette, and profoundly admire so much education. She puts her ridicu- Until this bitter hour she has not lous old head on one side, to look known how Tilly has filled her life. proudly and fondly at the stylish black How she has lived only for Tilly, and curls shading Tilly's rubicund counte- thought and hoped only for her. And nance. She ventures to kiss Tilly's Tilly has gone away, and Martha's cheek very gently when that young house is left unto her desolate. lady is snoring profoundly after a day's pleasure, for Tilly has not yet started "the dressmaking." And the premium is still wrapped up safely in dingy newspaper in the money-box. A footstep outside startles her. For one wild, foolish moment she thinks that Tilly has come back that she has but dreamt a bad dream and is awake again. And she recognizes the voluble tones of the mamma of the educated infant, and dries her tears, not from pride-Martha has so little - but from loyalty to Tilda. Mrs. Jones always have said that "A impudent, Martha is creeping up one night weary, but optimistic, after a hard day's cleaning at the church, when a slipshod infant from next door thrusts a note into her hand. The slipshod infant, who has received an education, Tilda was a bad lot. reads it to Martha at Martha's desire.brazen-faced thing," says Mrs. Jones, warming to the description. It contains only a few lines. Tilly has gone away. Tilly has eloped with a costermonger. Married respectable at a registry, she phrases it. "That's all," says the infant of education. And Martha, with a little color coming into her poor white cheeks, knows as Tilly meant no harm. And marriages are made in 'eaven. She may have to acknowledge Tilda erring to her own heart, but how can she give her up to the -merciless judgment of a merciless world ? That is all. But that is why Martha falls back with her face drawn and ashen, and her lips trembling. That is all. It is the end of those years of "You're a poor sperited one, that work and denial and hoping. Yet you are," says Mrs. Jones, "and as what is more natural than that Tilly likely as not you've never looked to should desire matrimony, and try her see if she 'ave made off with the preblandishments upon a costermonger | mium.” who plied his trade most conveniently Martha has not looked. Is startled beneath Martha's window ? What is into confessing it. She has not thought more natural in this cruel world than love repaid by ingratitude, and trustfulness by deceit ? Martha gropes her way blindly to the attic. It is not yet so dark there but of the premium so hardly earned. She has only thought that she has loved Tilda, and Tilda has not loved her. And a swift burning color comes into Martha's cheeks, and some sudden, deadly premonition creeps to her heart | times. Long before the last of these and closes coldly upon it. And she an-eras, which we may call the Arab swers steadily, "My Tilda's as honest irruption, Zoroaster had arisen to supas you are." "Don't you be so sure," says Mrs. Jones vindictively. "You look and see." Perhaps Martha takes some sort of resolution as she goes heavily to the drawer where the money-box is kept. Or perhaps no resolution is necessary, because her ignorant, loving old soul is of its nature infinitely faithful. Her hands and lips are quite steady now, and she is not afraid of Mrs. Jones's "sperited" gaze. The money-box is quite light, and the money collected was chiefly in pence and halfpence. It is also unlocked. And Martha turns with her back to the drawer and faces Tilda's enemies. "You can tell all as asks," she says, in an old voice that is very clear and firm, 66 as my Tilda is quite straight and honest. And them as says she isn'tlies." "I'll believe as you speak true," says Mrs. Jones. "If you don't, well, the Lord forgive you." And who shall say that he will not ? From The Nineteenth Century. THE PARSEES. THE history of the modern Parsees is in effect the history of Zoroastrianism since the seventh century; but they have an ancient history as well, partly legendary, partly authentic, stretching back to many thousand years before Christ, when in that vast empire known to chroniclers early Persian Gaiomards fought demons and giants, or, in later years, conquered territory and cultivated the arts of peace. Herodotus says that effeminate climes produce effeminate inhabitants, and that the same soil cannot produce excellent fruits and men valiant in war. Perhaps to some such reason may be ascribed the fact that Persia could not keep what it had conquered, but it did at any rate outrage historical tradition by rising and falling three successive plement the early Persian code of morality. The exact date at which he flourished is hard to fix-writers vary from 2200 B.C. to 1300 B.C.-but all that is necessary for our purpose is to note that by the time the Arabs overran Persia there had long been established a faithful and devoted body of Zoroastrians, ready to renounce all for the religion of their prophet. Zoroaster had taught them that it was not enough" to ride, and draw the bow, and speak the truth," they must defend the revelation with which he had entrusted them. And so it came to pass that in the seventh century a little band of exiles from Pars (in Persia) carried their principles and their sacred fire remote from Mahommedan persecutors and the homes of their ancestors, first to Khorassan and then to the Indian province of Guzerat. At this latter place they established themselves, after negotiations with the Hindu monarch, and one is glad to feel that, notwithstanding the diluted form of Zoroastrianism with which they presented that potentate, they have preserved almost intact that for which they left home and happiness in the reign of the unfortunate Yazdezard. To follow their fortunes from this point is to narrate an almost uninter rupted history of peace and prosperity. Once only have they taken arms, and that was in the battle of Sanjan, 1305 A.D., when they helped the Hindus against the Mahommedans. In Akbar's reign they became com mercial, and began the trade with China which has largely made of them the luxurious nation they now represent; but their rise in India is almost simultaneous with the British acquisition of Bombay. The Indian Parsees number now in all ninety thousand people. They are and always have been devoted subjects of her Majesty, and we may attribute this as much to a certain sympathy with Western methods of thought over Eastern as to the fact that they would rather be ruled by entire foreigners than by those whom | round with blessings; while, in the they might themselves have conquered Fire Temple close by, another white, had fortune favored them. robed intercessor stands before the saThe Parsee, in the business of life cred fire, watching the incense of a and in public connections, is enterpris- nation's prayer ascend to the God of ing, eminently successful, earnest, and light and heat. Nor is their connecdiligent. He does most things with tion with the Deity purely vicarious ; ease, is blessed with intelligence, has religion enters into the life of a Zorotact and adaptability; so that his rela- astrian in more ways than one. When tions with all the differing races around old enough to learn anything, all Parsec him are easy and happy. No caste boys and girls are instructed in the distinctions have made for him his pro- religion of their race. At seven years fession, as with the Hindus. Parsees of age the boy is invested with the saas such are all equally well born and cred garments, the sudra and kusti. equally favored of the Deity. The The conception is, unlike the Judaic, heaven-born Brahmin has not his par- that he is born good, and that no evil allel among them. Zoroaster came to touches him till his seventh year. The priest and layman alike. Any census ceremony during the investiture is elabwill give the range of their avocations. orate, but noticeable points are the When not medical, legal, or educa- prayer of repentance and the declarational, they are commercial. Agricul- tion of faith. The sudra is a finely ture they seem to have forsaken with Persian pastures, although there is now some prospect of a return to early habits in this respect. woven garment - -"the garment of the good and beneficial way," as its name denotes - spotlessly white, to suggest purity, while each seam is invested In domestic relations the Parsee with symbolism, exhorting to virtue. shows favorably. He is gentle and The kusti is a fine cord of seventy-two courteous, while, as is the case with all threads, representing the seventy-two children of the Sun, his affections are chapters of the Yazashne. This is strong. His treatment of his women-knotted round the waist of the child by kind is not Oriental; no petty jealousy the officiating dastur, who chants meanconsumes him lest they should be as time a monotheistic creed, declaratory powerful as himself if allowed similar of the faith left to Parsees by Zoroaster advantages. He is, perhaps, unneces-and of that prophet's divine commissarily luxurious in his style of living, sion. At the last knot the priest says, and this reacts on his character, mak-" Perform good actions, and abstain ing him averse to any exertion which from evil ones," and henceforward the would involve personal discomfort. Doubtless it is not his fault; he has been too much the centre of his family's affections to be anything but selfregarding by education. young Zoroastrian is responsible for himself. The knots in the kusti represent to him vows of truth and charity with such other virtues as he may from time to time desire, and he says his With a Parsee the day begins as with prayers upon this sacred cord many many other people, except that his times a day. It will thus be seen that, matutinal devotions are said for him though devoid of that asceticism which and his family by a white-robed priest, characterizes Brahminism, Zoroastrianwho, seated on a high stool and with ism is a beautiful ministry to truth and his face to the sun, chants prayers in goodness, and nothing is too small to beautiful language from a Zend liturgy. take part in this service. Life is repreEach family has its priest, who faith-sented as a contest with the powers of fully performs his duty by each mem-darkness, and man is encouraged to ber of the household. There must range himself on the side of light. be something rather helpful in the thought that while they go about their daily tasks some one is hedging them To turn now to things educational. The Parsees have always happily been blessed with intelligence. In the days must hold to the old ways, and who can say but that this very conservatism when their language was Persian, and their location the land of their origin, they had a literature worth possessing. is not the ballast of India, acting as a Sir John Malcolm tells how the men wholesome restraint to rashness and repairing his tents at Ispahan sang keeping us from outstripping ourmystical odes of Hafiz. Poetic sensi-selves? bility is independent of rank or education with them, as with most Orientals. But Persian poetry has long ago been expounded to the uninitiated, and we know now that the warm tropical glow, the rich imagery, the soft accents which delight the ear, only veil the deepest and most mystical of philosophical longings. As to women and girls, it is customary for people outside India to mass together the peoples who inhabit it, and to talk of "the poor, downtrodden women of India," and much sympathy is spent, and some imagination, on the troubles which are supposed to assail them. With the Parsees, we start with a difference, however, for they do not The language of the Parsees in India shut up their women behind the puris Guzerathi, varied slightly from the dah, nor does their early history warlanguage of that province; the build-rant any such custom. The Avesta ing up of a Persian literature is thus, has a delightful sketch of Iranian alas! more or less forsaken. The women-how they wove, and spun, Translation Committee does some good work in Guzerathi, and Zoroastrian research has of late years been solidly aided by many Parsee scholars. and read, and rode, and drew the bow, and ruled their households. They combined all the elements necessary for a woman's education; they were comThe education of a Parsee compasses panionable to their husbands and yet the ordinary stages. He begins, per- domestic; and so great was their spirhaps, at a Guzerathi school, or with itual importance in the Iranian family tutors at home. High schools and col- that they were allowed to partake in leges or a university course in England the sacred rites, and their names were next await him; but many Parsees invoked together with those of mascugive their children an entirely English line saints and deities. This will be education. They do not, like the Hin- refreshing to such as are accustomed to dus, lose caste by crossing the waters.hear Manu declare that he who does As to statutes and such like, the uni- not pay his debts will be born again as versity and her Majesty's inspectors" a slave, a servant, a quadruped, or a make excellent provision. Schools, woman” — significant category! both primary and high, are under government supervision, and though much remains to be rectified in the manner of imparting instruction, any visitor to India would, I doubt not, marvel that | fail to be as great a power as the Iraeducation should have made such rapid nian lady, it is doubtless because we strides in comparatively so short a time. do not better use the aids which fall to India walks with large steps in this as us. Like the early Iranian, the Parsee in other things, and anomalies crowd child takes the sacred vows at about upon us; a university open in all its seven years of age; she goes to school branches to women, and the strict pur- or has her governesses. Too often (in dah system; the highest philosophical orthodox families) her parents stop her enlightenment, and the superstitions of education at fifteen or sixteen; she a temple to Kali. But then, like the comes out; she travels with her parvegetable life around us in India, we ents to the different hill-stations, in are not all winter or all summer at the pursuit of the season; she is marriagesame time; we are not all young to-able. The dastur of the family puts gether in mental any more than in her down in his list of marriageable physical development - the orthodox girls, together with a description of her The Parsees of to-day may be said to have retained most of these good traditions; their womenkind are treated with respect and deference, and if we |