an individual, but as means of ensuring that salvation, and accordingly
she never met with Shanty for many years, without hinting at this
discrepancy in their opinions, which hints seldom failed of bringing
forward an argument.

When Tamar was about nine years old, Mr. Dymock gave her a dog. Of this
creature she was very fond, and always accustomed it to accompany her in
her excursions around the Tower. There was on the moor, not many hundred
paces from the Tower, a heap of blocks of granite, some of which bore
evidence of having been cut with a chisel; but these were almost
entirely grown over with saxifrages and other wild plants.

The country people seldom resorted to this place, because they
accounted it uncanny, and Mrs. Margaret had several wild tales to tell
about it, which greatly interested Tamar. She said, that in the times of
papal power, there had been a monastery there, and in that place a
covenanter had been murdered; hence, it had been pulled down to the
ground, and all the unholy timbers and symbols of idolatry burnt; "and
still," she added, "to this day, uncanny objects are seen in that place,
and wailings as of souls in woe have also been heard coming from thence;
and I myself have heard them. Nay, so short a time ago as the night or
two before you, Tamar, were brought a baby to this house, a light was
seen there, and unearthly voices heard as coming from thence."

Of course after this, it could not be thought that Tamar should approach
this place quite alone, though she often desired to do so; had not Mrs.
Margaret told her these stories, she probably might never have had this
desire, but there is a principle in human nature, which hankers after
the thing forbidden; hence, as St. Paul says, "By the law is the
knowledge of sin." We are not defending human nature, which is