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Mikael Olsson

C++20 Quick Syntax Reference

A Pocket Guide to the Language, APIs, and Library
4th ed.
Mikael Olsson
Hammarland, Finland

Any source code or other supplementary material referenced by the

author in this book is available to readers on GitHub via the book’s
product page, located at www.apress.com/9781484259948 . For
more detailed information, please visit
http://www.apress.com/source-code .

ISBN 978-1-4842-5994-8 e-ISBN 978-1-4842-5995-5

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-4842-5995-5

© Mikael Olsson 2020

This work is subject to copyright. All rights are reserved by the

Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned,
specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations,
recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other
physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval,
electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar
methodology now known or hereafter developed.

The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks,

service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the
absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the
relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general
use.

The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the
advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate
at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the
editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to the
material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have
been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional
claims in published maps and institutional affiliations.

Distributed to the book trade worldwide by Springer Science+Business

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Introduction
The C++ programming language is a general-purpose multiparadigm
language created by Bjarne Stroustrup. The development of the
language started in 1979 under the name “C with classes.” As the name
implies, it was an extension of the C language with the additional
concept of classes. Stroustrup wanted to create a better C that
combined the power and efficiency of C with high-level abstractions to
better manage large development projects. The resulting language was
renamed C++ (pronounced “C-plus-plus”) in 1983. As a deliberate
design feature, C++ maintains compatibility with C, and so most C code
can easily be made to compile in C++.
The introduction of C++ became a major milestone in the software
industry as a widely successful language for both system and
application development. System programming involves software that
controls the computer hardware directly, such as drivers, operating
systems, and software for embedded microprocessors. These areas
remain the core domain of the language, where resources are scarce
and come at a premium. C++ is also widely used for writing
applications, which run on top of system software, especially high-
performance software such as games, databases, and resource-
demanding desktop applications. Despite the introduction of many
modern, high-level languages in this domain—such as Java, C#, and
Python—C++ still holds its own and overall remains one of the most
popular and influential programming languages in use today.
There are several reasons for the widespread adoption of C++. The
foremost reason was the rare combination of high-level and low-level
abstractions from the hardware. The low-level efficiency was inherited
from C, and the high-level constructs came in part from a simulation
language called Simula. This combination makes it possible to write
C++ software with the strength of both approaches. Another strong
point of the language is that it does not impose a specific programming
paradigm on its users. It is designed to give the programmer a lot of
freedom by supporting many different programming styles or
paradigms, such as procedural, object-oriented, and generic
programming.
 C++ is updated and maintained by the C++ standards committee. In
1998, the first international standard was published, known informally
as C++98. The language has since undergone five more revisions with
further improvements, including C++03, C++11, C++14, C++17, and
most recently C++20, which is the latest ISO standard for the C++
programming language released in 2020.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1:​Hello World
Choosing an IDE
Creating a Project
Adding a Source File
Selecting Language Standard
Hello World
Using the Standard Namespace
IntelliSense
Chapter 2:​Compile and Run
Visual Studio Compilation
Console Compilation
Comments
Chapter 3:​Variables
Data Types
Declaring Variables
Assigning Variables
Variable Scope
Integer Types
Signed and Unsigned Integers
Numeric Literals
Floating-Point Types
Literal Suffixes
Char Type
Bool Type
Chapter 4:​Operators
 Arithmetic Operators
Assignment Operators
Increment and Decrement Operators
Comparison Operators
Logical Operators
Bitwise Operators
Operator Precedence
Chapter 5:​Pointers
Creating Pointers
Dereferencing Pointers
Pointing to a Pointer
Dynamic Allocation
Null Pointer
Chapter 6:​References
Creating References
References and Pointers
Reference and Pointer Guideline
Rvalue Reference
Chapter 7:​Arrays
Array Declaration and Allocation
Array Assignment
Multidimensional​Arrays
Dynamic Arrays
Array Size
Vector
Chapter 8:​Strings
 String Combining
Escape Characters
String Compare
String Functions
String Encodings
String Formatting
Chapter 9:​Conditionals
If Statement
Switch Statement
Ternary Operator
Initializers
Chapter 10:​Loops
While Loop
Do-while Loop
For Loop
Break and Continue
Goto Statement
Chapter 11:​Functions
Defining Functions
Calling Functions
Function Parameters
Default Parameter Values
Function Overloading
Return Statement
Forward Declaration
Pass by Value
 Pass by Reference
Pass by Address
Return by Value, Reference, or Address
Inline Functions
Auto and Decltype
Returning Multiple Values
Lambda Functions
Chapter 12:​Classes
Class Methods
Inline Methods
Object Creation
Accessing Object Members
Forward Declaration
Chapter 13:​Constructors
Constructor Overloading
This Keyword
Field Initialization
Default Constructor
Destructor
Special Member Functions
Object Initialization
Direct Initialization
Value Initialization
Copy Initialization
New Initialization
Aggregate Initialization
 Uniform Initialization
Designated Initializers
Chapter 14:​Inheritance
Upcasting
Downcasting
Constructor Inheritance
Multiple Inheritance
Chapter 15:​Overriding
Hiding Derived Members
Overriding Derived Members
Base Class Scoping
Pure Virtual Functions
Chapter 16:​Access Levels
Private Access
Protected Access
Public Access
Access Level Guideline
Friend Classes and Functions
Public, Protected, and Private Inheritance
Chapter 17:​Static
Static Fields
Static Methods
Static Local Variables
Static Global Variables
Chapter 18:​Enum Types
Enum Example
 Enum Constant Values
Enum Scope
Weakly Typed Enums
Enum Constant Type
Chapter 19:​Structs and Unions
Structs
Struct Initialization
Union
Anonymous Union
Chapter 20:​Operator Overloading
Binary Operator Overloading
Unary Operator Overloading
Comparison Operator Overloading
Overloadable Operators
Chapter 21:​Custom Conversions
Implicit Conversion Constructor
Explicit Conversion Constructor
Conversion Operators
Explicit Conversion Operators
Chapter 22:​Namespaces
Accessing Namespace Members
Nesting Namespaces
Importing Namespaces
Namespace Member Import
Namespace Alias
Type Alias
 Including Namespace Members
Chapter 23:​Constants
Constant Variables
Constant Pointers
Constant References
Constant Objects
Constant Methods
Constant Return Type and Parameters
Constant Fields
Constant Expressions
Immediate Functions
Constant Guideline
Chapter 24:​Preprocessor
Including Source Files
Define
Undefine
Predefined Macros
Macro Functions
Conditional Compilation
Compile if Defined
Error
Line
Pragma
Attributes
Chapter 25:​Exception Handling
Throwing Exceptions
 Try-Catch Statement
Rethrowing Exceptions
Noexcept Specifier
Exception Class
Chapter 26:​Type Conversions
Implicit Conversions
Explicit Conversions
C++ Casts
Static Cast
Reinterpret Cast
Const Cast
C-Style and New-Style Casts
Dynamic Cast
Dynamic or Static Cast
Chapter 27:​Smart Pointers
Unique Pointer
Shared Pointer
Weak Shared Pointer
Chapter 28:​Templates
Function Templates
Calling Function Templates
Multiple Template Parameters
Class Templates
Non-type Parameters
Default Types and Values
Class Template Specialization
 Function Template Specialization
Variable Templates
Variadic Templates
Fold Expressions
Concepts
Abbreviated Function Templates
Template Lambdas
Chapter 29:​Headers
Why Use Headers
Using Headers
What to Include in Headers
Inline Variables
Include Guards
Modules
Index
About the Author and About the Technical
Reviewer
About the Author
Mikael Olsson
is a professional web entrepreneur, programmer, and author. He works
for an R&D company in Finland where he specializes in software
development.
In his spare time, he writes books and creates websites that
summarize various fields of interest. The books he writes are focused
on teaching their subject in the most efficient way possible, by
explaining only what is relevant and practical without any unnecessary
repetition or theory.

About the Technical Reviewer

Marc Gregoire
is a software engineer from Belgium. He graduated from the University
of Leuven, Belgium, with a degree in “Burgerlijk ingenieur in de
computerwetenschappen” (equivalent to a master of science degree in
computer engineering). The year after, he received the cum laude
degree of master in artificial intelligence at the same university. After
his studies, Marc started working for a software consultancy company
called Ordina Belgium. As a consultant, he worked for Siemens and
Nokia Siemens Networks on critical 2G and 3G software running on
Solaris for telecom operators. This required working on international
teams stretching from South America and the United States to Europe,
the Middle East, and Asia. Currently, Marc works for Nikon Metrology
on industrial 3D laser scanning software.
© Mikael Olsson 2020
M. Olsson, C++20 Quick Syntax Reference
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-4842-5995-5_1

1. Hello World
Mikael Olsson1
(1) Hammarland, Finland

Choosing an IDE
To begin developing in C++, you need a text editor and a C++ compiler.
You can get both at the same time by installing an Integrated
Development Environment (IDE) that includes support for C++. A good
choice is Microsoft's Visual Studio Community Edition, which is a free
version of Visual Studio that is available from Microsoft’s website.1 The
C++ compiler that comes with this IDE has good support for the C++17
standard and includes many features of C++20 as of the 2019 version. If
you are running the Visual Studio installer on Windows, make sure to
select the “Desktop development with C++” workload to enable
development in C++.
Visual Studio is available on Windows and Mac, and there is a
lightweight version called Visual Studio Code which can also be run on
Linux. Two other popular cross-platform IDEs include NetBeans and
Eclipse CDT. Alternatively, you can develop using a simple text editor
such as Notepad, although this is less convenient than using an IDE. If
you choose to use a simple text editor, just create an empty document
with a .cpp file extension and open it in the editor of your choice.

Creating a Project
After installing Visual Studio 2019, go ahead and launch the program.
You then need to create a project, which will manage the C++ source
files and other resources. Go to File ➤ New ➤ Project in Visual Studio
to display the Create a new project window. From there, select the C++
language from the drop-down list to view only the C++ project
templates. Then select the Empty Project template and click the Next
button. At the next screen, you can configure the name and location of
the project if you want to. When you are finished, click the Create
button to let the wizard create your empty project.

Adding a Source File

You have now created a C++ project. In the Solution Explorer pane
(choose View ➤ Solution Explorer), you can see that the project
consists of three empty folders: Header Files, Resource Files, and
Source Files. Right-click the Source Files folder and choose Add ➤ New
Item. From the Add New Item dialog box, choose the C++ File (.cpp)
type. Give this source file the name MyApp and click the Add button. An
empty .cpp file will now be added to your project and opened for you.

Selecting Language Standard

To enable the latest features of the C++ language outlined in this book,
it is necessary to manually change the language standard setting for
your project. You can do this by first going to Project ➤ Properties to
bring up the Property pages. From there, navigate to Configuration
Properties ➤ C/C++ ➤ Language ➤ C++ Language Standard. Select the
latest standard from the drop-down list (std:c++latest). Click OK and
the project will now be configured to compile with the latest supported
C++20 features.

Hello World
The first thing to add to the source file is the main() function. This is
the entry point of the program, and the code inside of the curly brackets
is executed when the program runs. The brackets, along with their
content, are referred to as a code block, or just a block.

int main() {}
 The first application will simply output the text "Hello World "
to the screen. Before this can be done, the iostream header needs to
be included. This header provides input and output functionality for the
program, and it is one of the standard library files that comes with all
C++ compilers. The #include directive effectively replaces the line
with everything in the specified header before the file is compiled into
an executable.

#include <iostream>
int main() {}

With iostream included, you gain access to several new functions.

These are all located in the standard namespace called std, which you
can examine by using a double colon, also called the scope resolution
operator (::) . After typing this in Visual Studio, the IntelliSense
window will automatically open, displaying the namespace contents.
Among the members, you find the cout stream. This is the standard
output stream in C++ which can be used to print text to a console
window. It uses two less than signs, collectively known as the insertion
operator (<<), to indicate what to output. The string can then be
specified, delimited by double quotes, and followed by a semicolon. The
semicolon is used in C++ to mark the end of a statement.

#include <iostream>

int main()
{
std::cout << "Hello World";
}

Using the Standard Namespace

To make things a bit easier, you can add a using directive to specify that
this code file uses the standard namespace. You then no longer have to
prefix cout with the namespace (std::) since it is used by default.

#include <iostream>
using namespace std;

int main()
{
cout << "Hello World";
}

IntelliSense
When writing code in Visual Studio, a window called IntelliSense will
pop up wherever there are multiple predetermined alternatives from
which to choose. This window can also be brought up manually at any
time by pressing Ctrl+Space to provide quick access to any code entities
you are able to use within your program. This is a very powerful feature
that you should learn to make good use of.

Footnotes
1 http://visualstudio.microsoft.com
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
The Project Gutenberg eBook of Miles
Lawson
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States
and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the
United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where
you are located before using this eBook.

Title: Miles Lawson

or, the Yews

Author: Mrs. W. Reynolds Lloyd

Release date: January 17, 2024 [eBook #72740]

Language: English

Original publication: Boston: Ira Bradley & Co, 1896

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MILES LAWSON

***
Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as
printed.

Miles Lawson;
OR,

THE YEWS.

BY THE AUTHOR OF
"HOW TO SEE THE ENGLISH LAKES," ETC.

"Therefore, although it be a history

Homely and rude, I will relate the
same,
For the delight of a few natural
hearts."
WORD
SWORTH.
 BOSTON:

PUBLISHED BY IRA BRADLEY & CO.

162 WASHINGTON STREET.

CONTENTS.

Chapter I. The Homestead

Chapter II. Conscience

Chapter III. The Snow Drift

Chapter IV. The Search

Chapter V. Home Again

Chapter VI. The Mountain Echoes

Chapter VII. Changing Seasons

MILES LAWSON;
 OR,

THE YEWS.

CHAPTER I.
THE HOMESTEAD.

"The lonely cottage in the guardian nook,

Hath stirred then deeply—with its own
dear brook,
Its own small pasture—almost its own
sky."
WO
RDSWORTH.

BENEATH the crags which overhang one of the deep

mountain valleys of Westmoreland, there nestles an old
farm-house, whose low, irregular roof, deep stone porch,
and large round chimneys, make it a type of its class. Its
windows are low, wide, and mullioned; and on the sunny
side, next the small garden, they are quite embowered by
an ancient jasmine, an old-fashioned cabbage rose, and a
broad sheet of ivy, whose twisted stems are as large as
those of a good-sized tree, and whose long, clinging arms
clasp the walls nearly all round the building, festooning and
fringing even the great round chimneys. Those chimneys
are almost as large as little lime-kilns; but the smoke,
which curls up in gentle volumes, is of that pure blue tint
which betokens it to be the breath of a peat fire. The house
is beautifully white—whitewashed afresh by loving hands at
every Whitsuntide Scrow. *

* The great annual house-cleaning of the north.

But the glory of the homestead consists in its two enormous

yew trees, a pair of sombre giants, which are so old that
they never seem to grow older. They became stiff, twisted
and furrowed with age, so many centuries ago, that a few
generations time, a few odd scores of years here and there,
are nothing to them now—a mere trifle that is not worth
noticing. And so there they stretch their huge branches
towards each other, across the flagged path which leads
straight up from the garden wicket to the pointed porch,
making a dim twilight of their own, even at mid-day.

There is a rustic seat encircling the trunk of one of the

brother yew trees. Ah! That is Miles's work. Miles, the oldest
son of the house, cut those billets and branches out of the
little copse-wood at the entrance of the glen, and made
them into a seat for his sister Alice to rest on, when she is
sewing in the golden light of the summer evenings. There is
a cluster of larches, as well as a spreading oak and a
sycamore, grouped about the farm buildings; but the place
borrows its name from none of these, and for three hundred
years it has been known as "The Yews." A slab of stone, let
into the wall of the house, just above the porch, bears the
date 1559.

Pass through that deep stone porch, and you enter the farm
kitchen, a long room, whose low, raftered ceiling is made
lower still by the rack which is stretched across it, on which
rest flitches of smoked bacon, and a large assortment of
dried herbs and simples; for Mrs. Lawson is famed through
the dales for her herb teas and febrifuges. She is known,
too, for better things than these; for the perfume of her
humble piety spreads like an atmosphere around her,
though her daily cup has long been seasoned with the bitter
herbs of affliction. She does not complain of these
distasteful draughts, but declares that they are the best of
medicines, the very things to strengthen and purify the
soul's health.

"If they were not good for me, I shouldn't have them. My
Saviour knows what a bitter cup is; and he wouldn't hand it
to me unless he saw I wanted it."

Watch her as she sits in her rocking chair, which is softly

cushioned with little diamonds of patchwork. That many-
colored patchwork is a mosaic representing her whole life.
She has often expounded the story from those little pictured
memorials. This lilac spot ("pop," she calls it) is a relic of
her first short frock: the pink square is the only survivor of
the dress she wore on her first visit to Kendal—to her a
wonderful metropolis, which she thought could be like
nothing less than Jerusalem itself, "beautiful for situation,
on the sides of the north." Ah! That "innocent" chintz was
her wedding gown. Her Miles chose it himself, and he had
been a good husband to her, "walking in his house with a
perfect heart," and trying to bring up his children "in the
nurture and admonition of the Lord."

Whenever Mrs. Lawson spoke on serious subjects, she

dropped unconsciously into the language of Scripture: for
she had been a close student of only one book; and after
Miles was taken from her, that book had been the household
lamp which had lightened the darkness that had fallen upon
The Yews. She has that old family Bible on her lap now, as
she sits beside the large open hearth; and the look of
settled repose on her brow is a fine commentary on the
words which she is now reading: "In quietness and
confidence shall be your strength." Now her eye is following
her daughter Alice's lively motions, as she sees her through
the open door of the cottage parlor, where she is dusting
the furniture.

That room has a delightful old-world look; it is panelled all

round with black oak, cracked and worm-eaten, but still
shining. The mantel-piece is of carved dark oak likewise;
and faces, hideous as masks, there display their long-lived
rage or changeless smiles. Opposite the fire-place is an
ancient chest, with the name "MILES LAWESON, 1562," cut
on it in high relief, and the motto, "FEARE GOD, AND
WORKE RYTEOUSNESSE," runs along on a ribbon-like scroll,
which binds together a pair of stiff trees, like gooseberry
bushes, but which are evidently designed to represent the
goodly Yews. This, then, is the muniment room of the
Lawson family.

They were not of gentle birth; but they have been a race of
sturdy, free-born yeomen, "statesmen" * of the dales,
watching jealously over the integrity of their fell-side acres,
and of their few green meadows beside the stream: and in
every generation since 1562, has there been a young "Miles
Lawson of the Yews" to transmit the memory of him of the
old oak chest.

* "Estatesmen:" Small freeholders, whose little properties

often remain in the same family, from generation to
generation, for centuries.

This sombre-looking parlor is Alice's quiet world of

romance; it is her "chamber of imagery." For here her
young mind, stimulated by the antique features which
surrounds her, loves to picture the scenes and people of
former days.

The chief source whence she draws her genealogical

groupings of Lawsons (of whom she firmly believes the
hideous faces on the mantle-piece to be faithful portraits),
is the fine historical memory of Mark Wilson, the itinerating
schoolmaster of the dales. Mark is expected to-day at the
Yews, to take up his residence there for the next month, in
the course of his regular routine journey from homestead to
homestead. * He is the orphan son of the old curate of one
of the neighboring dales, who could leave him from his
spare pittance little besides his moderate store of learning
and his thinly furnished bookshelves. But with this
important legacy Mark felt himself, and was universally
acknowledged to be, the learned man of the district. Pardon
him his little weaknesses, for Mark is a good, honest, true-
hearted lad, though his gait is a shade too measured, and
the fountain of his learning a little too apt to overflow.
Pardon him these fertilizing inundations; for he considers
the land around to be marvellously dry and thirsty, and he
thinks he is commissioned to do the bountiful work of the
Nile when it overflows its banks and refreshes the waiting
gardens and meadows of Egypt.

* This is the plan pursued in the more remote dales,

where the population is very thinly scattered.

Before Alice had finished polishing her household motto,

and rubbing up her ungainly family portraits, the latch of
the wicket gate is heard, and she hastily looks out of the
window. "Master Wilson is come, mother, books and all!"

The said books distend the old leather bag on the shoulders
of the young man who enters, far more than do the few
quaint articles of his slender wardrobe. If this be all he
includes under the portentous name of "luggage," life is a
tolerably simple thing, after all.

"Peace be unto this house," says Mark, solemnly, as he

bends his tall thin figure under the low porch: and he looks
like a true son of peace himself, as he pronounces his
accustomed benediction, though his broad and high
forehead is not without some lines which belong rather to
the autumnal ploughing than to the spring-tide of life. But
no one who ever saw the steady light of his fine clear eye
could doubt that in him the words had been fulfilled, "They
looked unto him [their Lord] and were lightened; and their
faces were not ashamed."

Alice received him with great deference, and a certain

distant timidity; for she herself has been Master Wilson's
pupil, as well as Miles and her younger brother Mat. He
gives her a grave nod, and passes on to the widow's easy
chair.

"Winter has been here since I saw you, Mrs. Lawson. How
did you bear up under the cold? Has the rheumatism been a
little quieter?" This was spoken in a voice of such singular
sweetness and power, that if one had caught its accents in
the midst of the crush of one of the principal streets of
London, one would have been impelled to look round and
search out the speaker.

"Nae, nae, Mark," said the widow, "the rheumatism hasn't

been quiet—far awa' from that. But God hasn't forgotten the
old woman; and when he giveth quietness, who then can
make trouble?"

"You have got hold of the true medicine, Mrs. Lawson;

better than any herb tea which you can concoct."
"Nae!" said the widow, in a rather controversial tone. "They
all help! It's the three P's that does it, say I—Prayer,
Patience, and Pennyroyal."

"Well, well," replies the schoolmaster; "give me the first two

and you may keep the third. But where's my scholar, Mat?"

"Mat was off to the Scar after the sheep, hours ago," said
Alice.

"He had better get them to the lower fells before long, I'm
thinking," said his mother, turning towards the window, and
looking at the sky; "there's a snow-storm in yon clouds
above Rowter Fell—though 'tis over late in the season for
snow."

"If I read the signs aright," said the schoolmaster, "we shall
have a quiet life hereaway, blocked in by a deep fall of
snow. A fine time for Mat and his learning. Perhaps we shall
get Miles, too, to go over some of the old ground and
refresh his memory. Is Miles at home?"

"Miles has been a good deal out lately—more than I like,"

said his mother, as, a cloud of care gathered upon her calm
forehead, just like that which was veiling the fine brow of
Rowter Fell at the same moment.

"I think he must be taking to mining work, up on the 'Old

Man,'" * said Alice; "he goes that way so very often."

* "Coniston Old Man," the name of a mountain.

"Does not he tell you what he is about, when he leaves

you?" inquired Mark, anxiously.
"Nae, nae; not so very often now," was the mother's reply;
"young men like to think they are their own masters. He
says he doesn't like to be watched and followed about."

"He always used to like me to set him off as far as the top
of Green Gap in all weathers," said Alice, mournfully; "but
he thinks I can't keep up with him now, he says, and yet I
can run all the way there and back faster than old Chance."

"Does Chance go with his master?"

"No; he will not let him go either, though the dear old fellow
whines after him."

"There is some mystery here," thought the schoolmaster.

"Heaven grant that the widow's son, the son of many
prayers, may not be turning at last into the 'broad path.'"

"Perhaps it's only Bella Hartley, after all," exclaimed Alice,

with a sudden flush of illumination.

"Nae, I fear not," the widow replied. "Bella is a good girl,

and he needn't be ashamed to visit her; he knows he would
have his mother's blessing upon the head of that any day,"
though her brimming eyes, as she looked round tenderly on
the old place, showed how much it would cost her to leave
the ancestral Yews, and abdicate her quiet throne in favor of
a youthful successor.

At this moment came in Mat from the fells with a flushed

face; and pulling down his open forehead by the front curl,
by way of bow, he stood, cap in hand, evidently with
something to say.

"Well, Mat, my man," said his teacher in his kindest tone,

"what cheer from the fells?"
"We've brought the sheep all down to the lower fells,
because there's snow in the cloud over Rowter."

"Did Miles help you?"

"Nae; 'twas Chance and I. But Chance did it all. I'm sure he
saw the storm coming, he looked so all around, and sniffed,
and began at the sheep before I set him. But there are two
men yon, who want Miles."

"What like are the men?" asked the widow uneasily. "And
what do they want of Miles?"

"They said he was bound to meet them in the Gap, and he

didn't come, so they want to know if he is in the house."

"Did you bid them in, Mat? I would as lief know who my
son's friends may be."

"They said they would bide without and speak with him
there."

The widow shook her head and exchanged an anxious look

with Mark Wilson, who left the room immediately.

The two strangers, sullen, ill-favored men, one of whom

never looked you full in the face, but was always glancing
anywhere rather than straight before him, did not appear to
wish for a parley with the schoolmaster, the clear daylight of
whose countenance was in perfect keeping with the
uprightness of his character, and the unbending texture of
his principles.

"What is your will, friends?"

"We only want Miles Lawson. Is he in or off?"

"I cannot say. May I ask your business with him?"

"No. 'Twas only for a talk with him. He wasn't in the Gap,
where he should have met us, for we are naught but
friends: as he wasn't there, we came on. That's all."

The speaker looked a miner, and his companion might have

been a broom-maker; but they were ungainly, unhappy-
looking men; the one, bold and defiant, the other sinister
and cunning.

"Well!" said the miner, after a pause. "If you can't tell us
anything, we are off again. Come along, Jack."

"Stop!" cried Mark, hastily. "Is there no message for Miles

Lawson? Nothing about the business which brings you
here?"

"No," said the man, rudely; "catch us telling you."

And laughing loudly, they walked off at a quick pace.

Mark was still standing under the yew trees, thinking over
this suspicious affair, when he heard a step and a whistle,
and Miles himself appeared, lounging along with his hands
in his pockets. He started, and flushed crimson, when he
recognized the old friend and master who had not only
taught him all that he knew of book-learning in his many
migratory visits, but who had earnestly endeavored to
counteract the faults of his character by instilling good,
sound Bible principles. The younger man's face was a
strikingly fine one as to outline and feature; but there was a
look of uncertainty and hesitation, a wandering, restless
expression about the eye, which gave the impression that
principles were beginning to give way to mere impulses,
healthy feeling to heartless selfishness; a critical moment in
a young man's history.
"Well Miles, dear old fellow, I'm glad you are come home.
There's a storm abroad, and we shall have a rare time for
the books. I have brought a history of England, and a book
about the stars."

Miles held out his hand; but it was not with his old eager
cordiality: no hearty welcome to the old Yews was given or
felt; and after an awkward silence, he turned round and
said in a constrained voice, "I am sorry I shall not be at
home for awhile. I have business that takes me away."

Mark Wilson turned the full power of his piercing eye upon
his face, and was grieved to see that his friend's eye fell
under the searching survey. "I am sorry too, I am sure. I
thought we should have had some capital times of reading
and talk in the long evenings, when the mother has got her
knitting and her Bible, and Mat is learning to write, and
Alice is listening with her eyes as much as her ears. I
confess I am very sorry, Miles, unless you have some object
in hand on which you can ask God's blessing, and your
mother's prayers, just as freely as if you were sitting in your
father's own seat in his own old place."

The young man winced painfully at this, and then,

recovering himself with a bluster, (the usual recourse of a
bad cause), exclaimed, "I declare, I am treated like a child.
I am watched and questioned, and doubted, as if I was not
old enough to take care of myself: and mind, I am not a
little fool of a schoolboy any longer, Mark Wilson, I say."

Mark's powerful eyes were still fastened on his old friend, so

that the voice, which began boldly enough, died off into a
pitiful shake before the sentence was finished. He saw his
advantage and quietly said, "You know he is the fool who
says in his heart, 'There is no God:' and it is really and
practically to say this, if we act as if we had not his all-
seeing eye constantly upon us. You never need tell me what
you are about, if you go to God and tell him. You know I
don't want your confidence, Miles, if you can give it to God
in prayer, and to your widowed mother in grateful love. But
a man is known by the company he keeps." This was said in
so significant a tone that it was Miles' turn now a look of
searching inquiry; and he read something in Mark's face
which evidently startled and troubled him.

"What do you know about my friends? What do you mean

by the company I keep?"

Mark lifted up his heart in silent prayer and then replied, "I
will just leave this little word with you, my brother, 'If
sinners entice thee, consent thou not.'"

"Well," said Miles, after musing for a long season, in which,

strong symptoms of the inward conflict between the two
principles of good and of evil were visible on his changing
countenance; "well, I do believe you are my true friend,
Mark, after all; and I wish I had never sought others."

The poor fellow wrung the hand of his old master, while a
rushing tide of feeling rose within him until it left a moisture
even in his softened eyes. Mark pressed his hand in return,
in wise silence; and the two reconciled friends entered the
farm kitchen together. Neither knew that during this painful
conversation, one, feeble in body but strong in faith, had
been earnestly wrestling for a blessing; and that even
young Alice had stolen into the old oak parlor, and slipping
down on her knees, in a dark corner, had offered up the
clear, pure gems of a sister's tears. The mother looked up
through her misty spectacles, and saw, as the young men
crossed the threshold, that the prayer of faith had gained
the victory, at least for this time.
"Mother, we'll have a regular jolly evening, as Mark is come.
He shall not say a word about his old books; we're going to
have a holiday. Where's Alice? Alice give us your best
riddle-cakes, and Mat shall bring out some of his whitest
honey. Let us have some broiled ham, too; and then we'll
crack * to heart's content."

* "Crack" signifies chat in Westmoreland parlance, as well

as in Scotland.

This was spoken with an uneasy effort to be cheerful, which

did not deceive any one of the party. But they were rejoiced
to have the truant son of the ancient house, the
representative of an honored father—glad to have him
safely amongst them, on any terms. And so a grand fire
was built up on the hearth on scientific principles, by Alice's
skilled hands, peat laid against peat, and log resting on log,
until the crackling and sputtering were prodigious. The
whole long, low room was brilliantly illuminated; the jets of
reflected flame danced upon the shining old oak; a great
toasting and buttering of cakes began; the frying-pan added
its characteristic hearth-song to the general chorus of
household music, which was in truth more cheering than
melodious; a coarse table-cloth of snow-like whiteness was
spread; horn-handled knives and forks were arranged like
rays about the round-table; and a great homemade cheese
took its respectable stand in the centre.

The mother's calm eyes watched Alice's movements with

loving approval; other eyes followed her, too, but she took
little heed, until Miles broke out with the words—sincere,
genuine words this time—

"Well, it is a pleasure to have such a warm home, and a

nice handy little sister to make one comfortable on a cold
winter evening."

She looked full at her brother with a sparkling smile; but

her eyes presently brimmed over at the recollection of how
rarely of late that brother had chosen to be "made
comfortable" beside his own warm hearth-stone. He saw
what was in her mind; for Alice's was a face as truthful in
reflecting all her meanings, as the little tarns and broader
lakes which enamel her mountain land, to mirror the blue
skies or the solemn stars of heaven, and to give back the
bending of a reed or the waving of a fern:

"Heaven's height and home's deep valley,

Much of earth, but more of heaven."

Miles read the thoughts which were reflected on his sister's

simple, open countenance; his own flushed at the silent
expostulation; and turning hastily to the schoolmaster, he
led him off into talk about the months which had passed
since the last round of scholastic visits. "How are the folk up
at Scarf Beck?"

"Oh, they are very well; the sons are fine likely lads, and
Bella is a clever winsome girl. They have got a deal of
learning, out of my mouth amongst them. Fine scholars
they will be, the best in the round, except you, Miles, and
little Mat here. At least, you have been my prime scholar,
and Mat promises fair. I wish you would keep it up. It is a
fine thing to have a good home-pursuit, something to keep
the hearth bright besides the peat and the logs."

"There are no books to be had," said Miles evasively; "one

can't read the spelling book over and over again. It's weary
work, that."

"Weary, indeed; but if you will only give me an order, I can

get a capital assortment of good sound healthy books for
you. I can easily fill those little shelves above the oak chest:
nay, I declare that you and I will knock up some more. It
will be grand in-door work for us, now that we are in for a
snow-storm. I have some small literary taste, and I am not
without a literary connection—that is, amongst the
booksellers of Kendal," said the simple young pedant,
drawing himself up and looking round upon his admiring
friends.

This was poor Mark's weak point; and it was every now and
then "cropping out," as miners would say; though every
revealing of his inner man always showed fine veins of pure
ore, as well as a little of the lighter rubbish, which slightly,
very slightly, overlaid it. In truth, Mark's object in this talk
was to revive in his favorite old pupil the taste for
intellectual improvement, which, in earlier days, he had
succeeded in implanting in him. He had a very exalted view
of the duties of Christian friendship. He felt that those
duties had to deal with the whole moral, intellectual, and
spiritual being; and for the treatment of each of these
divisions of that mysterious being, he had his list of
simples, and febrifuges, and strengthening drinks, just as
dear mother Lawson, there, in her patchwork cushioned
easy chair, had for the many ails of the other great division
—the physical.

They were dear and close friends, the aged Christian and
the young. The one supplied the deeper teachings of long
experience, the other brought to her the energy of the
young believer who had not spent the strength of his days
for naught, nor wasted his substance in the service of a
wasteful world. The one could speak of the many days of
the years of her pilgrimage, wherein her God had led her
about in the wilderness, to humble her, to prove her, and to
know what was in her heart; the other told of the sweetness
of his first love for Christ and of the joy of his espousals.
The one spoke of the fiery trials of temptation or of the
heated furnace of affliction; the other told of triumphant
conflict and of the hope which maketh not ashamed. The
one spoke thankfully of the "peace which passeth all
understanding;" the other, of "joy in the Holy Ghost." But
they were one in all the great truths of the gospel; both felt
that they were sinners, lost, undone, and bankrupt, but for
the pardoning mercy of God in Christ, the redeeming love of
the Saviour, the sanctifying power of the in-dwelling Spirit.
Both knew that they had no title to the favor of God but
through the finished work of Jesus, and no fitness for his
presence except through the work of the Spirit in their
hearts. Thus were they "one in Christ;" and if the angel
believer were sustained by a deeper faith, the younger was
animated by a more lively hope; while the third great grace
of the Spirit, love, equally overflowed the heart of each.

It was beautiful to see them communing together, whenever

the fixed routine of his circuit brought the young man to
"The Yews;" and Alice used to look and listen until she felt
that it was indeed good to be there. There was a secret
work going on in her own young heart; but it was as yet
wholly hidden, except by its gentle fruits; for she had not
yet found the courage to speak of what God had done for
her soul. The time for the confession of the lips was not yet
come, though the season for the evidence of the life was
already begun. Love was her characteristic: love, deep and
true to Him who had first loved her; love to her widowed
mother; love to her father's memory; tender love to each
brother, though in the one there had lately been so much to
disappoint and chill; love for all the world, and even for
every living thing about her; and love, (shall it be told?)
love strong and pure, though timid and unconfessed, for the
teacher, who was to her the very ideal of every thing that
was noble and true.

Mark was not so much older than his young friends as his
stability of character and superior endowments might have
led one to suppose. He was but twenty-five years of age
when he came for his month's teaching to the Yews. Miles
was twenty; Alice about eighteen; young Mat fourteen. But
Mark Wilson, had always been ahead of everybody in the
whole compass of the dales, excepting the neighboring
clergyman, who treated him with much kindness, and
looked upon him as a fellow-worker; so that his position
was a really influential one. He had been "round
schoolmaster" ever since he was a grave, thoughtful,
intelligent youth of eighteen; and ever since that time, the
consistency Christian character had been unimpeached.

The Yews was not entirely a solitary house. There was a

little dwelling close at hand which was occupied by the old
laborer, Geordie Garthwaite, whose attachment to the soil
was little less binding than that of the Lawson family
themselves; and under this roof the more shifting
population of farm servants, who were generally changed at
every fresh "hiring day," that is once in six months, was
housed and fed. They commonly all lived under one roof:
but Mrs. Lawson had a decided preference for family
completeness and household quiet; and so the two strong
lads, who aided in the work of the farm, always obeyed Old
Geordie's blowing of the cow's horn which summoned them
in to breakfast, dinner, supper and bed, if they were
ploughing the Beck meadows or herding the kine and the
sheep on the Gap Fells.

Dear old Chance knew the jocund meaning of that most

dismal blast as well as Johnny and Jamie, and was sure to
be home before them, unless he were out on picket duty; at
which seasons, he pricked his ears and whined with a gentle
resignation, and yet with a lofty sense of duty, which were
quite edifying to witness. He won his undignified name of
"Chance," by scratching and whining at the kitchen door of
the farm-house late on a bitter winter's night long ago; and
when the door was opened, there was such a footsore and
emaciated creature looking pitifully in little Alice's face, with
such a pair of tenderly mournful eyes, that she brought him
in immediately, burst into a flood of sympathizing tears, and
on her knees before the fire gave him all her own porridge
with her own spoon. He looked as if he would much rather
have helped himself out of the bowl; but he evidently
appreciated the tenderness of her touch, and submitted
with an awkward grace to the ministrations of the spoon.
This was years ago; but the noble fellow, (a great black dog
with a white tip to his tail, and a slight touch of tan over
each eye and on each foot,) had maintained his position on
that warm hearth ever since the night of tears and the
spoon.

For some weeks, he seemed uneasy in his mind, and not

quite sure that he had done what was right, for he searched
the face of every stranger he met, and made a visit of
inquiry to every homestead in the district. Miles drew the
conclusion from this conduct, that he had lost his master,
perhaps a Scotch drover, who had probably taken the coach
at Ambleside, and so had accidentally thrown his faithful
servant hopelessly off the scent.

Whatever may have been the previous story of his life,

Chance, as he was now called, instantly turned into a fresh
course of duty, and adopted the interests of his benefactors
as if he had been attached to them all his days. At first, he
much preferred the society of the cows to that of the sheep,
evidently from his old drover habits; but finding that he
made himself much more important by herding the black-
nosed sheep and checking their ranging propensities, he
very wisely turned his attention to that especial branch of
his new duties, and soon became accomplished sheep dog,
reading his masters meanings from a simple wave of the
hand, and fulfilling his commissions with beautiful fidelity.

There was a younger dog, one on whom Chance evidently

looked down as a mere ignorant lad, whose playful vagaries
were to be tolerated rather than countenanced. This was
"Laddie," a handsome brindled dog, with a magnificent
white plumy tail. He was a native-born dalesman, and had a
fine eye and ear for a shepherd calling. The two worked
when they were out on duty, as if they had but one mind,
doing everything in concert, and vying with each other in
the most literal fulfilment of their master's wishes; but
when off work, the two creatures were as different as youth
and age, the one brimming over with extravagant frolic, the
other, sober, sedate and dignified. When either of them
caught the sound of Alice's step, and clear ringing voice, or
could succeed in licking their aged mistress's hand, the look
of affection which beamed out of their fine, expressive eyes,
was the same in each.

A leading character in the community was old Ann, the wife

of old Geordie. She managed to live an active life, although
bent almost double by long-standing rheumatism. It was
marvellous how she could maintain her equilibrium, with
that extraordinary gait and figure. But she was cheery old
woman, kind to all dumb creatures and dearly beloved by
them in return. It was a picture to see her sallying forth
from her door-way, her blue bed-gown tied round her waist
by her blue linsey apron, which was almost always full of
potato skins or bran, or corn, for one class or another of the
subjects in her little kingdom; while a blue serge petticoat
completed her uniform. Winter or summer she never wore a
bonnet. It was rumored she possessed one of extraordinary
dimensions, date unknown, in a corner of a huge chest,
which was supposed to contain other superfluities. But it
never appeared. The little church was too far off for old Ann
to join the scattered congregation, bent and infirm as she
was; and so on Sundays, a clean cap was put on, and she
sat with her suffering mistress in the farm kitchen, while
the sweet old lady read in her own peculiar Westmoreland
intonation, the solemn narratives of the Old Testament and
the precious teachings of the New. The widow, though
helplessly bound to her easy chair, had always a very
earnest and feeling prayer to pour, forth into the listening
ear of Almighty Love, before the little service was
concluded; and then the aged women shook hands, while
the one said "God bless thee, Ann," and the other said "God
bless thee, mistress."

But to return to the large "following" which always attended

the clump, clump, of old Ann's heavy wooden and iron-shod
clogs, * wherever she went in the farm premises. First
there were the turkeys, the turkey-cock being a formidable
fellow, the martinet of the yard, who hectored and
domineered over everybody and everything, with the single
exception of old Ann, towards whom he was as gentle as a
dove.

* The shoes of the country: they are soled with wood,

and then shod with iron, and make a prodigious noise.

Then there were the guinea-fowls picking daintily about,

with round backs, and refined, not to say affected gait;
while every evening there was enacted that little scene
which is so peculiarly their own—the cock bird always flying
to the top of the highest chimney and there shouting,
"Come back! Come back!" as if he were recalling lost
companions. Next there were the geese, which used to walk
out into the meadows that bordered upon the beck * in long
Indian file, the most experienced and responsible gander
leading the way, a trustworthy young one bringing up the
rear: comparatively uninteresting creatures they were, save
for their self-sacrificing love of their young, in whose
defence, if attacked by strange dogs, they would lay down
their lives.

* The local name for "stream."

Then there were ducks without end, and cocks and hens
innumerable, quaking, crowing, cackling, screaming about
the desirable contents of old Ann's linsey apron, and
besetting her wherever she turned.

She treated them all as dear friends, talked incessantly to

them, in return for their vociferous addresses. "Coom, lad,
coom along with thee this gait. Well, lile * lassie! Get awa',
wilt thoo?" Thou hast a kindly heart, old Ann. Thou would'st
not willingly hurt a single thing: and when a violent end has
to be put to the happy little lives of thy many pets, it costs
thy loving nature more than thou would'st like to tell. Those
who have studied the ways of the feathered creatures, as
thou hast done, know that there are fine distinctions of
character, and beautiful adaptations of that mysterious
instinct which is the gift of their kind Creator, that the
careless and indifferent observer has never discovered or
even suspected.

* "Lile" is almost invariably used for "little" in the country

districts of Westmoreland.
They are alluded to here, not for the sake of crowding the
canvas with pictures of animal life, but in order to cultivate
a loving interest in the happiness of the living things around
our daily path. They are, many of them, helpless in
themselves, and entirely dependent on our good will. By all
means, let there be as much innocent happiness as there
can be in this selfish world. Let consideration for the
comfort of animals, as long as their poor lives last, (and this
life, remember, is their little all,) be a regular part of the
home-training of children; and then the beautiful world we
live in would not be such a scene of oppression and wrong
as it is.

CHAPTER II.
CONSCIENCE.

"Would'st draw a bow at a venture? Then

see
thou to it, that the point of thy arrow be
dipped in
love, and its winged shaft in prayer."

Before supper was over at the Yews, Chance and Laddie

were heard barking vehemently without. This vociferous
demonstration was made whenever any stranger appeared
on the premises, but was not warlike in its meaning; it was
only intended as a notification that there was somebody
come, who ought to be attended to.
The somebody on this occasion was an old exciseman, Mr.
Knibb, who itinerated though the dales almost as punctually
as the schoolmaster, but who was not nearly so popular a
personage. And yet when his old white mare, Madam, was
comfortably housed in the stable, and the drab top-coat was
hung up in the kitchen, Mr. Knibb could make himself very
pleasant company beside the hearth, or at the simple table
of the farm-houses within his round: for it was he who
brought the greatest amount of intelligence respecting the
doings of the great wide world on the other side of the
barrier mountains; and he generally had in his pocket a
Kendal newspaper, not more than ten days or a fortnight
old.

Mr. Knibb, therefore, helped to keep up the circulation of

ideas within his circuit; and a great flood-tide of news
overflowed the valleys and rose up to the homesteads on
the steep hill-sides whenever he made his periodical
appearances. Old Madam was so thoroughly aware of her
master's communicative habits, that she used to make a full
stop whenever she met a grown person in winding lane or
rocky pathway; and if left to her own devices, she would
allow her master just ten minutes for every "crack;" at the
expiration of which social interval, she would prick her ear
and slowly jog on again. Boys and girls neither she nor her
master thought it worth while to enlighten, but trotted past
them with contemptuous indifference.

Somehow or other, Mr. Knibb's visit on the present occasion

was not acceptable to the young master of the Yews.
Nobody looked exactly pleased when the old gentleman's
well-known whistle was heard without, because it was a
rather uncongenial interruption to the new-born happiness
of the household group; but Miles looked both displeased
and discomposed. He started—turned pale—flushed deep
red—and then hastily rose and went to the door as if to bid
the visitor welcome: but this movement seemed less like an
impulse of hospitality than a mask for his unaccountable
confusion. In truth, Miles was strangely moved.

These symptoms of perturbed feeling were not lost upon

the young schoolmaster, whose calling had cultivated that
keen perception of character and that skill in reading the
symbolic language of manner, look, and tone, with which he
had been originally gifted. The old lady—and lady she might
fairly be called, because, in spite of provincial accent and
mountain phrase, she was one of nature's own aristocracy,
and one of religion's own gentlewomen—the old lady
bestowed a kindly and courteous greeting on the guest,
who in his turn advanced to her chair, and gave her that
horizontal shake of the hand, (swinging cheerily like a
pendulum from side to side) which is supposed to express
cordiality.