about to depart; farewell!'
'Depart!' said Peter and his wife, simultaneously; 'whither wouldst thou
go?' 'I can't stay here all my days,' I replied. 'Of course not,' said
Peter; 'but we had no idea of losing thee so soon: we had almost hoped
that thou wouldst join us, become one of us. We are under infinite
obligations to thee.' 'You mean I am under infinite obligations to you,'
said I. 'Did you not save my life?' 'Perhaps so, under God,' said
Peter; 'and what hast thou not done for me? Art thou aware that, under
God, thou hast preserved my soul from despair? But, independent of that,
we like thy company, and feel a deep interest in thee, and would fain
teach thee the way that is right. Hearken, to-morrow we go into Wales;
go with us.' 'I have no wish to go into Wales,' said I. 'Why not?' said
Peter, with animation. 'Wales is a goodly country; as the Scripture
says--a land of brooks of water, of fountains and depths, that spring out
of valleys and hills, a land whose stones are iron, and out of whose
hills thou mayest dig lead.'

'I daresay it is a very fine country,' said I, 'but I have no wish to go
there just now; my destiny seems to point in another direction, to say
nothing of my trade.' 'Thou dost right to say nothing of thy trade,'
said Peter, smiling, 'for thou seemest to care nothing about it; which
has led Winifred and myself to suspect that thou art not altogether what
thou seemest; but, setting that aside, we should be most happy if thou
wouldst go with us into Wales.' 'I cannot promise to go with you into
Wales,' said I; 'but, as you depart to-morrow, I will stay with you
through the day, and on the morrow accompany you part of the way.' 'Do,'
said Peter: 'I have many people to see to-day, and so has Winifred; but
we will both endeavour to have some serious discourse with thee, which,
perhaps, will turn to thy profit in the end.'

In the course of the day the good Peter came to me, as I was seated
beneath the oak, and, placing himself by me, commenced addressing me in
the following manner:--

'I have no doubt, my young friend, that you are willing to admit that the
most important thing which a human being possesses is his soul; it is of
infinitely more importance than the body, which is a frail substance, and
cannot last for many years; but not so the soul, which, by its nature, is
imperishable. To one of two mansions the soul is destined to depart,
after its separation from the body, to