"Peter, did you ever love your boy? Didn't you always love him? Hasn't he been better, and kinder, and more obedient to you, than common boys? more so than you felt in your heart that you deserved? And now, because he dared to think for himself once, you turn him from your doors! Peter, you have done very wrong."

"Whether I have done right or wrong concerns me alone. I have power over my own house and property yet, and no son of mine shall remain under my roof who chooses to be disobedient. Look here, farmer Wright, I know that you don't mean to be impertinent or officious, so I'll forgive you for what I wouldn't any body else. But don't say another word on the subject. That young man is my son no longer. If he chooses to marry the daughter of a wall-layer, he may; but he never will touch one dollar of my property. My wife was rich, my mother was rich, and I never will consent to his marrying any other than a rich wife. There never was a beggar yet in the De Roos family."

Farmer Wright looked half with contempt on the man before him, and then proceeded in his usual voice:

"Your wife, Peter! You know just how much pleasure and comfort her silver brought you! You know that she exceeded even yourself in her love of gain. You know that she married you only because you were rich like herself--that you never loved each other-never. And you know how she died! Would you condemn your son to the same joyless existence as your own? Would you have him the same care-worn, money-worn old man, sitting alone on such a dismal night, with only such thoughts as yours for company?"

And the wind came back through the upper sky, roaring and raging among the elms, and the casement clashed, and the timbers shook through all the house. It pealed out loud shouts from the roof, and then menacingly murmuring, rolled away.

"I have said that he is my son no longer. I will not take back my word!"

"Peter-if you have no soul, you have money. You know that Waltermire will carry on this suit to the trial. You know, too, very well, that it can terminate but one way. There will be no jury found in the country that will not rejoice to grant the heaviest damages to the plaintiff. Harry is a minor. You will have to pay the amount. Ten thousand dollars would be a righteous verdict."

The old man groaned.

"If I am drawn on that jury, you may know what to expect. We have always been friends, but that does not hinder me from speaking the truth to you. I have been to see Harry; he utters no disrespectful word concerning you, but his feelings are unchanged. I have been to see An

drew Morris's daughter; she is in the deepest distress, but she loves Harry as much as before. She has no hand whatever in this suit and deplores it from the bottom of her heart. Yes, as little as you have deserved from him, Harry will not marry without your consent."

And once more the turbulent wind whirled dry sticks and leaves and sand against the windows.

The old man covered his face, and though he longed to ask if it were indeed true what his guest told him, he was ashamed of manifesting any interest in his son.

Peter De Roos-from my soul I pity you! Instead of sitting here in this great lonesome house, alone and silent as the grave, except the wind-your son and daughter-yes, daughter, might have been with you, making this dismal room bright with their presence, and striving to cheer the darkness of threescore with the tales of the one and the songs of the other. You've heard Minnie Morris sing; as old as I am, it does me good to listen to her. Was there ever a more happy, industrious girl than she? She is not one to waste or neglect anything. She has lived in humble life too long not to know the value of money-the good it can do. Ah, my friend! she would bring sunshine into your house; she would wait on you when well, and nurse you when sick, as no one ever did. Peter, in your soul, have you never envied Andrew Morris his daughter?"

For the first time since he was a man tears burst from the listener's eyes. They streamed through his fingers, and fell with a strange gleam on the floor. In vain he strove to control his excited feelings-the good spirit had spoken in his beart, and would not be silent. It was pitiful to hear his sobbing, that hardened old man, as he trembled and quailed before the simple truths of his friend.

"I have one thing more to say to you-what do you suppose is to become of your son, if you cast him away? You have never taught him to labor; you have never shown him how to struggle with the world; you have never suffered him to act for himself; he has lived with you, and for you. If he goes out among strangers and wicked people, what surety have you that he will not fall into temptation and ruin? His blood be upon your head!"

"Spare me ! spare me!' groaned the landlord; "bring my son back to me-I will do whatever you choose."

And again the wind, that had died away in the distance, came back across the creek, bringing with it the sound of the water, and crept gently up the lawn and at the foot of the trees, stirring the scattered leaves to a tremulous music, and swaying the shrubs around the door, but gently, lovingly, It was no more the rude, boisterous

wind. As the passions in the human heart had departed, so had the strength of the gale, and now it kept a plaintive sighing through the blinds.

"I will see my son once more," repeated the old man; "he may bring Minnie home--but-but what will people say? Oh, I cannot take back my word!"

And still the tears fell; those strange, bright tears, from eyes that were always so stony; and anguish and remorse shook that cold, proud frame.

It was nearly morning when farmer Wright departed, but he had gained his end. He had saved Harry from despair--Minnie from the dread and mortification of a public court, and his friend from himself. The blessing of the peace-maker was upon him, and his heart was light and happy.

That very evening there was a wedding at the Morrises. Mrs. Morris was in an agony on account of the absence of frosted cake, and the indispensable lilac silk dress, the ne plus ultra of a country bride's trousseau; but every one else was perfectly satisfied. Two weeks after this important event, the whole neighborhood was electrified by the announcement in the county newspaper, of the marriage of Mr. Henry De Roos to Miss Marion Morris.

Never was there such a fever for visiting and tea-drinking known as that which followed this At least a dozen calls and invita

announcement.

tions were showered upon Mrs. Deming, who, delighted with this unexpected relief from the monotony of her usual life, repaid her friends' condescension by giving them all the information upon the one great topic which she possessed :-said information, barring sundry guesses and inferences, amounting precisely to--nothing.

Great was the indignation of the lawyer-cousin, who had already written out his closing speech and appeal to the jury, and, to test its efficacy, read it to his wife, who, in turn, declared that it was "the most movingest thing she ever heard in her life."

There was a wonderful scouring and sudsing and rubbing at the great house, preparatory to the reception of its new mistress; and the papering, painting and refurnishing of two or three rooms at the same time, told of a relaxation of the pursestrings unexpected at least.

And so Harry and Minnie went home; and they did not disappoint farmer Wright's prediction, for sunshine came with them and dwelt there, even in gloomy November days; and Peter De Roos often thinks, though he never tells it, that never, never has the wind sounded so mournfully in the chimney and around the windows as on that memorable night. He is a very old man now, but he grows kindlier and milder year by year, and is never so happy as when his children, the Morrises and farmer Wright are seated around his hearth.

ONE Spring morning, when the heavens gave a promise of a fair day after a night of showers, we issued forth in quest of something new, be it accident, incident, or any mishap of life, just to distract our inner man, if not please him. With this purpose in our head we entered an omnibus that was driving by, fully persuaded that if with nothing else, we could amuse ourselves with the variety of temper exhibited there by the human species as they "jog along;" remembering that a friend of ours very significantly called the vehicle "Job's box."

To observe and not to be seized in the act we "saddled our nose" with a pair of spectacles, only worn on such occasions, and from behind which and through which we could safely lead our eyes in any direction. Just as we got ready for our observations a spruce-looking young woman entered the omnibus. By her features we identified her for one of the daughters of the "Emerald Isle," although we must confess that those features were on the very "verge of obliteration," so attenuated and refined they had become in her. A healthy complexion and a benignant smile relieved her rather pensive blue eye. We plead guilty, if there be any guilt in it, that we took pleasure in observing her. Her whole person was modestly and very neatly attired and in a manner not to disfigure her symmetrical form, so that in her humble way she might serve for a pattern even to her accredited superiors.

While thus contemplating her, and speculating upon her moral attributes and fancying they must correspond with her fair appearance, we saw enter another woman with a little daughter, whose "tout ensemble" convinced us that she must be a "lady." There was in her that air of composed, conscious dignity in her movements that marks superiority, but her benign face, beaming with intelligence, dispersed every particle of sternness which is apt to linger about unrelieved dignity. Her eyes, as she looked to her little daughter, revealed to the spectator that she was her affectionate mother; and a young mother too, for she hardly could have counted twenty-four summers. Such a spectacle is sure to nettle bachelors a little and it did nettle us very much, but blessed be that Dutchman who invented spectacles, for they shielded us this time from all betrayal of emotion. She was dressed in that unusual manner which by the elegance of each part produces the harmony in the whole, and makes the wearer conspicuous for exquisite chasteness of style. In a word she

created herself an atmosphere of refinement for herself.

These two beings, so unlike by position in life, yet so like by the spirit which we fancied to have apprehended in them, showed us the analogy that there is between the art of the lapidary and liferefining art; diamond becomes brilliant in the hands of the polisher, so does the human soul.

We were not satisfied with these dry reflections, but wished for something to happen that we might see those two women, who engrossed our attention to the exclusion of our other neighbors, act out the character with which we have invested them. At this moment, as if we were in possession of the fabled wishing cap, the omnibus stops and our fair lady makes a movement to step out. The steps were high, the street muddy, the mother not so strong as the weight of the little daughter would require to set her safe and sound with ease on a dry spot. Scarcely the mother had a moment to reflect how she could manage her little one on this occasion; our daughter of the "Emerald Isle," feeling herself equal to the task, takes up the little urchin and deposits her safely on the side walk with the greatest "bonhommie" possible, and returns to her seat with a more radiant countenance than she had before; because, (as we have watched both these actors,) the lady, as it became well-bred women, with the sweetest smile and amenity thanked her for this act of unexpected civility. Unrequited kindness, however self-compensating, does not light up the human face divine, we therefore do not mistake that the additional animation of the young woman was owing to the gracious acknowledgement of her good act. And of the same opinion was a philosopher who sat near us, for we heard him whisper, Kindness begets kindness." However, be it as it may, it gave us food for reflection for the whole day, and we thought we had found a philosopher's stone with which we could make all happy; and above all we experienced on the very spot that next to the pleasure of doing a good deed is that of seeing it done.

Thus delighted with this incident, and for fear we should meet with something which would disturb our pleasurable mood, we took one look more at the charming girl, relinquished our original design, put up our glasses and left the omnibus, satisfied that we had picked up a sweet scenting rose by the wayside, which we shall enjoy for some time to come.

ARISTOTLE may boast-or his admirers may boast for him of his science and his philosophy-they may hold him forth as the canonical expounder, and distinguish him as the very incarnation of natural law, but after all Aristotle never experienced the delight which fills the rambler who climbs the rugged cliff, or delves in the rocky stream in his explorings after some unknown species of fossil or mineral wonders. Archimedes, important as his discovery of specific gravity was to himself and Hiero, the sovereign of Syracuse, and important as it has been to the interests of science ever since, could not have shouted his immortal "Eureka" with an intenser passion of delight than that which fills the breast of the mineral or fossil stricken admirer of Nature, when he suddenly opens a new locality of unmonographed treasures, or discovers a magnificent congerie of radiant crystals.

There is a delight in breaking stones-let the plodding business man, who reckons it insanity, say what he will, or the scheming speculator determine by his nicest rules of calculation how soon the stone-gatherer will be himself picked up in some limestone streamlet in the shape of a petrified cabbage; or the opalescent sycophant may display the changing hues of his secondary self-consequence in the halls of fashion or the soirées of the great, and look with pity upon the ardent professor, whose zeal stretches more than his purse; but after all, his serpentine windings will bring him no nearer, perhaps, than the base. These and a thousand others, of every rank and degree of attainment, may say what they will, but not one in ten ever enjoys such pure and grateful delight as swells the heart of the lonely searcher after substantial acquisitions in the field. Not the field of battle, kind reader! His pursuits and sympathies are of a widely different class. He seeks not to build his fame or his happiness upon a corner-stone which rests on a sandy sub-stratum, moistened with blood and countless tears, thickly set with the femora and tibia of slaughtered victims. He seeks not to raise a mountain of bleaching bones whereon to write his "Aceldema," or to open a fountain of crystal clearness which shall flow over a channel covered with broken hearts. No! He goes forth armed

with hammer and chisel, and his scarcely audible attacks are silent witnesses of his "progress," and his zealous levelling of some protruding angle, a sufficient guaranty of his Democracy." Oh, noble laborer! let not the din of battle or the rushing of the untamed and restless spirits of the time tempt thee to pause in this silent inscription upon the everlasting hills of thy testimony in favor of peace!

There is a delight in breaking stones-in Macadamizing the pathway up the hill to the Temple of Science, and he who joins therein with the most zeal and brings the richest treasures will find his name written along his path, and engraved on the stones under his feet, to a nobler purpose than that of the mercenary mode of immortalizing some pill-vender or tape-seller by affixing his etymological handle to the enduring marble on the pavement.

But let us forget these things for a few days, and dash off on a puff of steam to the sunny hills and quiet scenes of our upper land, and enjoy a little of that peculiar felicity which springs from the pursuit of natural truth by actual observation. Let us seek a share of the health-bestowing exercise of using our flexors and extensors, in swinging our hammer and sledge, instead of a dumb-bell, and impinging upon a rock instead of beating the air. The moping dyspeptic could not have a better physician, and with his basket on his arm for a shield, and his sledge for his weapon, he may safely challenge his enemy to meet him on the open field. But we are getting on the war tack again!

The luxurious lounger may perhaps feel a certain species of enjoyment when he puts on his travelling gear and hies him away to the Kaatskill, or stops for a few weeks or days in the overcrowded saloons of Congress Hall, and absorbs, by a peculiar effort, a few tumblers of his mineral nectar. What! mineral waters! Yes, reader! These same excessives are indebted to our element for their vivification and prolongation, and if they would but take our arm and abandon the ball-room, to walk with us in this glorious moonlight, or bathe themselves in this fathomless stream of unsullied purity, we pledge ourselves and the best chrysoberyl ever found near the Springs, they

would not return. Come with us, fair one! We will lead you to a nobler pleasure-we will serve you with a more golden dessert-we will woo you with a softer melody and a sweeter tone than ever heavily pulsated through the crowds of the perspiring victims. Beneath the shade of that overhanging rock, where the crystal water runs by with its purling vespers, we will welcome the gentle spirit of a sacred love, and whisper mid the solemn and holy stillness of our better life. Come with me, world-worshipper! and on the wide altar of this lovely world let us offer up, in the purity of a lovelier aspiration, our incense of unfeigned adoration and obedience. Let us behold, in this broad mirror of universal beauty, the adumbration of that eternal soul of harmony and faultless perfection which has whispered it into our presence. Let the enervation and the emptiness of the circles of gaiety be lost in the exhilaration and fullness of these scenes, where every tiny blade is a monitor, every little pebble a discourse, every little brook a volume, and every liquid murmur a strain in that unending hymn which is rolling up in its perpetual circles to the throne of God. Will you that God's image alone be unlike him?

"Does the rain fall and the sun shine in your country?" said the African chief to Alexander, when he told him what he would do with the treasure in dispute between two neighbors; that he would keep it for the Crown, and let the subjects go their way; "Does the rain fall and the sun shine in the land of the white man ?"

Oh, holy indignation of Nature, through her ebony expounder! Would that the world would obey thy teaching! The same rain does still fall, and the same sun does still shine, and the same Alexander is still in the world-commanding his hosts to war, urging the champing charger to battle, leading the serried column to the horrid carnage, and filling the charnel with its hecatombs of broken hearts. Through all the countless mutations of those rain-drops, and the infinite vibrations of those rays of light, they have ceased to soften the stubborn soil of the human heart, or to light up with their genial warmth the cold and selfish cells of cruel ambition or the dank abodes of a merciless self-love. But there is an eternal PROMISE! It is written by the finger of Omnipotent Love on the dial of eternity, and as the silent progress of its mysterious workings carries us onward to our bourne, we come nearer to the hour when the time-decaying enamel shall be removed, and the glorious sunbeam of a divine purpose shall reveal the spiritual renewal of a fallen race.

Oh, could our age but feel an infusion of this divine spirit, our rain might fall, our sun might shine, our flowers might bloom, our rivers might flow, and our forests utter their leafy symphonies in and through a land of progress and of peace. Could

our people but be turned from glittering dreams which dazzle the eye but delude the soul, and wooed from the dangers and ensnarements of the base pursuits of individual and selfish life to the noble and holy contemplation of nature and her life-giving laws and passion-subduing harmonies, we might reach the way-mark in that path of human hope, and gain the first fruition of those golden fields, where each one shall "sit down under his own vine and his own fig-tree, with none to make him afraid."

Come with me, wealth-pursuer! Come, ye who seek renown on the turbulent sea of party strife! Come, ye who would gain your rewards at the price of blood and the desolation of a million hearts! Come with us where the "still small voice" shall breathe a divine hymn of love and mercy and justice in our painéd ears! Come away on the wings of sympathy and lay your ear on the earth in humility, to catch the sound of the universal melody, and hear the discord of the trampling, rushing crowds, who hasten to carnage or to self-aggrandizing deeds. Come with us where the balmy breath of heaven shall fan away the life-fever from your cheek and cool your burning brow. Come with us where a spirit of holy beauty shall lead you to bow beneath its power, and touching you with its sceptre, shall "renew your strength like the eagle's," and give you a quenchless fountain of purer life in your now fainting soul!

We sometimes wonder how it is that intelligent men and women can pass their years without inquiring more into the things that surround them. Inquisitiveness is a strong trait in the human mind, but unfortunately it is mostly expended in investigating the important concerns of individual life. When a blade of grass might unlock a treasure of beautiful truths, and inspire the mind with a new world of thought-when we might find

"Books in the murmuring brooks, "Sermons in stones, and good in every thing," this spirit of curiosity is paralyzed, and he who turns from his business or his associations to contemplate the lovely things "of this world of ours," he is marked as one unfitted for social life or the duties of his profession or his calling. Think you, such a worshipper, who is exalting his mind by a contemplation of noble things, is lowering the dignity of his humanity? Think you the purity of his pleasures has a tendency to corrupt his life? Oh, no; he is gaining a higher position in the scale of intellectual existence, and throwing around his flight the influence of a purifying power. And to this grand scene of enjoyment and exaltation every one is invited, for as Pollock has well observed

"Abundant, and diversified above

All number, were the sources of delight;
As infinite as were the lips that drank