of its wide domain, that he has never before had his attention specially directed to them. Teaching mathematics may be compared—the greater to the less-to pointing out the position of places on a map. Every thing is defined by lines, and when you have found the intersection of the meridian of longitude and the parallel of latitude of a particular place, you have ascertained its position with absolute certainty. To instruct in the other subjects above mentioned, is more like explaining a historical picture. Here are figures, colors, shade, perspective, proportion and so on, and all is to be understood; but moreover, and chiefly, the whole is surrounded by a wide sea of historical fact and allusion, and you feel that you may perhaps, by a bold questioner, be pushed off somewhere beyond your depth. An additional demand upon the Rhetorical Professor, is occasioned by the expectation that he shall in some degree exemplify his precepts by his practice, and be prepared with a critical opinion as to the merits of the current as well as the standard literature of the language. To meet these demands fully, would require a union of high talents and rare erudition, only to be found among the most eloquent speakers and most brilliant writers of the day. To discharge the duties of the chair with any good degree of success, imposes upon those not more highly gifted than ordinary, an amount of labor not required of those who give instruction in departments usually considered much more important.

S. L. C.

THE EVENING TWILIGHT.

There is a sadness in the twilight hour,
When busy life is lulled into repose,
When Twilight holds us by its gentle pow'r,
And o'er the heart a softened shadow throws.

The sunlight from our hearts as slowly fades
As the last streaks along the western sky,
And evening's silent, melancholy shades
Blend with our thoughts to charm and purify.

Morn is all bustle in the City's mart-
And though we stroll along the dewy hills,
To share the solemn silence they impart,
And rob the breast of all its rising ills:

Yet will the wild bird's merry matin song,
The yeoman's laugh, the ploughboy's simple strain,
And every sound the zephyrs bear along,
Bring back the world's obtrusive thoughts again.

But when the weary work of day is o'er,

And every warbler's mellow throat is still;

"The clouds threaten a tempest," said Mrs. Mason, approaching Charles, who was standing at a window; "had you not better defer your ride for an hour or two longer ?"

"The message was so urgent, that I think there is no time for delay; the man who expresses such an anxiety to see me has, I fear, not more than a few hours to live, but there is no cause for uneasiness; Bayard is as gentle as he is spirited, and I shall be at Dermot's house, in all probability, before the storm comes up. Good evening," added Charles, turning with a bright and encouraging smile towards Mrs. Mason, who was still watching the clouds with an expression of great anxiety on her countenance. “Will you be so good as to keep my promise to Frank, of reading to him in Anson's Voyages this evening? You will find the book on the table in my study."

Mrs. Mason nodded her head in token of assent, but maintained her station as watcher of the clouds. Dark masses were rolling heavily together, and there was a lurid look about the edges of some of these black "sailors of the air," as the greatest of German poets has termed them, which foreboded an awful storm. Low, growling thunder was now heard, and the close and oppressive atmosphere betokened the war that was brooding in the elements. Mrs. Mason stood

When yeoman's laugh and ploughboy's song no more, pale and silent, with a look of anxiety, which

In mingled cadence, echo from the hill:

awakened the apprehension of the boys, who

drew close to her side, aud inquired eagerly | is still hope of life even in this world, Dermot : whether she thought cousin Charles could reach your pulse is good, your hand is warm, and this Dermot's house before the storm came up.

Her fears were not unfounded; the storm set in with terrific violence, when Charles was still two or three miles from Dermot's habitation, and there was no place of refuge. Trees bent before the violence of the wind, and the crashing of limbs was heard amidst awful and almost continued peals of thunder, which seemed accompanied, rather than followed, by the most vivid lightning. An oak tree was shivered at a few yards distance from Charles' path, and Bayard, for the first time becoming frightened, it was with difficulty Charles controlled him until they arrived at their place of destination.

death-like languor and depression is a part of your disease. You may recover, Dermot; but now, while you are brought to the very valley and shadow of death, do you not feel that you want a rod and staff to comfort you? Do you not feel, that after the few, fleeting years of life are past, which are the most to which any of us can look forward, how delightful would be the hope that our good Shepherd would lead us through the green pastures and by the still waters of our heavenly home?"

"Ah, Mr. Selden," said Dermot, with an almost despairing look of supplication, "if you could give me any true hope of peace hereafter, The fury of the storm had, by this time, in I would give ten thousand worlds. It is a dreadsome measure subsided. Judy met Charles Sel- ful thing to see death as I do now, hovering round den at the door with many thanks for his safety, me to take me away from this world, with all my for she said she knew he would come after get- sins upon my head, to stand before the judgment ting Dermot's message, and she had been "the seat. And if we are to be judged by our works, miserablest cretur in the world; but thank God," where, oh where, my dear Mr. Selden, shall I she added, in a lower tone, 66 you have got here before the breath was out of his body, for I don't think he'll ever see the sun rise, and he has been asking mighty often whether I thought you would get here before he died. But take off your overcoat, sir, it is dripping wet."

appear?"

With the utmost gentleness, in the simplest, clearest, and yet most pathetic language, Charles explained to the almost dying man, the great doctrine of the Atonement; and as he listened, the expression of his countenance softened, and tears from his heart, flowed gently down his cheeks, as he hung upon Charles' words as if fearful to lose a syllable he uttered.

As Charles turned to hang the overcoat against the wall, he perceived to his utter amazement a female form sitting near the hearth, with a shawl drawn closely around her, which he re- Charles was careful not to confuse or oppress cognized at once to be that of Edith Fitzgerald. the mind of Dermot by saying too much; he enShe arose with that simple dignity and self-pos-deavored to present this great doctrine of the session which always characterized her slightest Gospel in its most forcible and consoling light, he actions, and held out her hand to Charles, but not at all with the air of an embarrassed heroine, surprised in a cottage in some graceful act of benevolence, and receiving the admiring homage of beholder, for no expression was visible on her face which showed the most transient thought of herself. There were traces of tears perceptible, and an expression of blended awe and sympathy appeared in her countenance as her glance turned frankly and fully upon Charles.

After returning her greeting, Charles gently approached the sick man and kindly took the offered hand which the poor fellow stretched languidly forward, while something like a gleam of pleasure passed over his face.

"I thank you, Mr. Selden," he said, in a faint voice, "for coming out this dreadful evening, to see such a poor creature as I am, but I'm afraid it is all of no use, I am going very fast.”

repeated a few of the most striking texts of Scripture, and then kneeling by the bedside, offered up a prayer for the sufferer, from the very depths of his heart, and the tears of his hearers flowed fast, as they joined their supplications with his. Death was before them, with them; here lay a fellowmortal, perhaps even now passing away through the deep waters, and with thankfulness and awe they looked to that Redeemer, whom Charles pointed out as alone able to bear him through the flood so that it should not overwhelm him.

Edith had often before stood by the bed of sickness and death, but the awful reality of eternal things had never before been so deeply impressed upon her heart, and when the prayer was concluded, she sat pale and motionless as a statue with thoughts too deep for words.

The clouds were now rolling away, and Charles opened the door to admit the reviving influence As he pronounced these words with difficulty. of the fresh air. He then took a kind leave of he fixed a wild and earnest glance of terror and Dermot, after a few words of encouragement and inquiry upon Charles, which touched him deeply. sympathy, and a promise to visit him the ensuHe made no immediate reply, but after feeling ing day. After urging on Judy the necessity of Dermot's pulse for some minutes, said, "There keeping Dermot as quiet as possible, he told her

in a lone tone that he entertained some hopes of his recovery; but in order that this should take place, it would be absolutely necessary that she should observe the directions given her by the doctor. He added that he should go by Dr. Wilson's house on his return home, as he thought it very important that he should see Dermot in his present state. Judy felt new hope and strength and promised implicit obedience.

As Judy was engaged in changing Dermot's pillows, and giving him some medicine, Charles approached Edith, and said in a low tone, "You are perhaps not aware, Miss Fitzgerald, that Dr. Wilson considers Dermot's illness as a typhus

fever of an infectious character."

"No, I was not aware of this circumstance, or I should, perhaps, not have considered myself as justifiable in coming here, as I might communicate the infection to others were I to take the

fever."

"You have then no personal fears?"

"The near way through the woods is a short walk from Travers Lodge, and as my way home lies directly by some of the negro cabins, I should not be able to get up a fear, even if I were so disposed, and as you intend going by for Dr. Wilson, it is best not to delay you, Mr. Selden.”

This was so reasonable that Charles offered no remonstrance;-Edith thought he looked rather pleased at finding there was no necessity for his services, and they parted with a mutual increase of esteem.

Edith's mind was deeply affected by the scene through which she had just passed. Many thoughts had been presented to her with a force

and connection with which she had never before

considered them. The great doctrines of the sinfulness of man-the fullness of redemption offered by an atoning Saviour-she had never fully received, or deeply considered. Slowly she pursued her way homewards, deeply wrapped in thoughts solemn, elevating and consoling. The ravages of the storm were every where "None: more I believe from a sort of natural visible in her path: immense boughs torn from imprudent hardihood, which has protected me in their trunks were scattered on the ground; here most cases from all sorts of personal fear, than too was a tree scathed by lightning, but before from the only sort of courage that deserves the her the bow of promise threw its ethereal and name—moral courage. But it seems a pitiful magnificent arch across the heavens. Striking sort of selfishness to abandon our fellow-crea- types! thought Edith; from earthly tears does tures in extremity from personal considerations." the bright arch arise on which we must ascend to Yes, I certainly would not advise any one to Heaven. There must be a deep meaning in hudo so, if any human creature depended upon them man suffering a strong necessity for its existsolely for succor. But this is not the case here; others must expose themselves from considerations of sacred and professional duty, and from motives of natural duty and affection. Dr. Wilsou is a very attentive physician, Judy has a sister who will assist her in nursing her husband, and I pledge my word that he shall not suffer for aid or attendance, so that farther exposure of yourself would be unnecessary. Had you not better go at once into the open air? The storm is now past."

66

Edith bowed her head in token of acquiescence. She did not feel personally indebted to him for his consideration, for she felt that his whole tone and manner would have been quite as appropriately addressed to her Aunt Travers as to herself. It was not to Edith Fitzgerald, but to a fellow-creature he spoke, and while a sense of this prevented any thing like embarrassment or gratitude on her part, it raised him in her estimation. The simple and earnest dignity of Charles Selden's manner, the singleness of his purposes always so apparent, excited at once her respect and admiration.

After taking leave of Judy and Dermot, Edith left the house, and turning to Charles Selden, who was standing near her, said in reply to his offer of walking home with her:

ence. With such strong evidences in the works of nature, in the events of life, of the love of God, of his tender care over his creatures, it would be impossible to believe that he could wantonly afflict the children of men. How deep and fatal must be the malady from which such direful consequences spring!

Edith thought of what Charles had said of the necessity of an atonement, of the fullness of redemption wrought out for us by a Divine mediator, and though not prepared to embrace these doctrines in their full extent, light and joy sprung up within her soul as she reflected upon them. The deep earnestness with which Charles had spoken, left the almost irresistible conviction on the mind of his hearers that he knew he was speaking the truth, and Edith ceased to wonder that with such feelings and convictions he should have become a Minister of the Gospel. His sacred profession acquired in her eyes a new dignity and importance, since the grandeur and reality of eternal things had been placed before her in a brighter, nearer point of view, and she thought how much more reasonable it would be that he should wonder at the supreme importance which the children of the world attach to the fleeting and deceitful pleasures of earth, than they, that he should choose for his portion

the unspeakable and imperishable blessings of Heaven.

CHAPTER XIV.

Fair Isabella is so fond of fame,

Anna Maria, apparently uninterested in their proceedings, was busily engaged in covering a muslin apron with a profusion of leaves and flowers, such as had not their likeness in the heavens above, nor in the earth beneath. Mr. Travers' voice was heard in the passage, and immediately afterwards he threw open the door saying, "Walk into this room, Mr. Selden."

Anna Maria started, changed color, and quickly put aside her work; whilst Edith, almost as quickly, deposited the little frock she was making in a large basket beside Mrs. Travers. Juliana observed both these movements with some amusement, and continued her own employment with a smile and a look which said plainly, "You see Mr. Selden's presence makes no difference with me."

Charles advanced, quite unconscious of the commotion which his presence had excited, and having exchanged friendly greetings with the little circle, took a seat near Mrs. Travers.

That her dear self is her perpetual theme, Through hopes of contradiction oft she'll say, "Methinks I look so wretchedly to-day!"-Young. It was some evenings after the scene related in the preceding chapter, that the ladies at Travers Lodge assembled in the parlor to hold a consultation on the important subject of needlework. A poor woman in the neighborhood had recently had the misfortune of losing her cabin and nearly all the clothes her children and herself possessed, by fire. Affairs of charity were never then transacted by means of societies, but the individual exertions of such charitable persons, as always exist in every community, for the relief of sufferers within their own sphere of ac"You find us in the midst of a workshop," said tion, were probably much greater than in the Mrs. Travers, addressing herself to Charles; "the present day. The increased intelligence, sys- girls are so intent on making up these clothes tem and division of labor, which are found now for poor Mrs. Dawson's children, that they have in plans for the relief of the poor, have certainly set me as hard at work as themselves." greatly improved the machinery of benevolence; Whilst Mrs. Travers was speaking, Anna Mabut as in the management of all human affairs, what is gained in one way, there is danger of losing in some other,―individual sympathy for suffering is often lost in the business-like administration of general charities.

The case of this poor woman had excited general compassion, and no one had been more anxious for her relief, or more ready to give assistance to her necessities, than Edith Fitzgerald. Anna Maria had talked a great deal, but done very little.

ria contrived dexterously to possess herself of a
piece of work from the huge repository at her
mother's side, and began hemming as industri-
ously as if her life had depended upon finishing
the garment as expeditiously as possible, while
Juliana's
very neck was scarlet with the violence
of the effort she was making to repress a hearty
laugh at this manœuvre of her sister.

"Her case really deserves compassion," said Charles; "she has not only lost all her little property by the fire, but has also the additional misfortune of a very sick child—so sick, indeed, I should suppose from its appearance, that there is but small hope of its recovery."

66

So Edith told me; she went yesterday to see Mrs. Dawson, and quite moved my heart by her account of the poor woman's distress. But Edith, have you finished the frock you were making, or are you waiting for me to give you any instruction?"

A large bundle of goods of various sorts suitable for cheap clothing, chiefly purchased by Edith, lay on a table in the sitting-room, and Mrs. Travers had undertaken the task of cutting out complete sets of garments suitable to the ages of the different children. Edith and Juliana were very busily engaged in making them up. Juliana was fond of all new projects, and was moreover not deficient in kindness of heart; she was very skilful and quick in the use of her needle, and readi- Edith was conscious that a feeling of false ly undertook to instruct Edith in all the myste- pride had made her throw her work aside at ries of baby-linen, &c., &c. Edith was well ac- Charles' entrance, lest she should seem to be quainted with the use of the peucil, and with seeking his approbation; and as she perceived many sorts of fancy work, but the various kinds Juliana regarding her with a provoking smile at of useful and homely needlework, which are of this question of her aunt's, a bright crimson flush such indispensable necessity in a family, she was passed over her cheek, as she replied in a tone of entirely unacquainted with, and was now apply-indifference, ing her best efforts to profit by Juliana's instructions, which were not imparted without much a thing which very often happens." giggling and many jokes at her cousin's igno

rance.

VOL. XV-90

"Only a sudden fit of laziness has seized me,

“Well, it is best not to begin too violently at first, I thought you would tire yourself out with

such constant workings," said Mrs. Travers mild-good of the patient," he added, addressing himly, who never perceived any motive for conduct self to Anna Maria.

"A sudden fit of industry seems to have seized Anna Maria, which will make amends for Edith's laziness," said Juliana, who had now become familiar to Charles Selden's visits, and since she found he could talk and behave like other peo“Doctors and ministers are, of course, obliged ple, as she expressed it, had lost in a great mea- to visit the sick," replied Charles with a tone and sure her awe of him. manner that showed he thought his case called Anna Maria affected not to hear this remark, for no particular sympathy, “but, Miss Travers, and Edith hastened to endeavor to give another I think you are mistaken in supposing that peoturn to the conversation by addressing some in-ple in the lower ranks of life are generally desquiries to Charles, respecting Mrs. Mason and the boys.

"Dr. Wilson and I have undertaken the task of expression used by those in the lower ranks of of superintendence," said Charles looking to-life amuse and interest me." wards Edith with a smile, which she understood "Really, Edith," said Mrs. Travers, looking as meant to remind her of the promise he had made a few evenings before, "and you must not do Judy the injustice of supposing her destitute of feeling, she will carefully obey orders if we can only persuade her they are really for the