ht, leaving him alone with his letters, his
grief, and his remorse.

XIX.

SETH GETS "RILED."

There is in the life of nearly every young person a turning-point of
destiny. It may be some choice which he makes for himself, or which
others make for him, whether of occupation, or companion, or rule of
life. It may be some deep thought which comes to him in solitary
hours,--some seed of wisdom dropped from the lips of teacher, parent, or
friend, sinking silently as starlight into the soul, and taking immortal
root there, unconsciously, perhaps, even to himself. Now it is the
quickening of the spirit at the sight of God's beautiful universe--a
rapture of love awakened by a morning in spring, by the blue infinity of
the sky, by the eternal loneliness and sublimity of the sea. Or, in some
moment of susceptibility, the smiles of dear home faces, the tender trill
of a voice, a surge of solemn music, may have power over the young heart
to change its entire future. And again, it is some vivid experience of
temptation and suffering that shapes the great hereafter. For the
Divinity that maketh and loveth us is forever showering hints of beauty
and blessedness to win back our wandering affections,--dropping cords of
gentlest influences to draw home again all hearts that will come.

Then the spirit of the youth rises up within him, and says,--

"Whereas I was blind, now I am beginning to see. And whereas I was weak,
now, with God's help, I will strive for better things. Long enough have I
been the companion of folly, and all the days of my life have I been a
child. But now I perceive that I am to become a man, and I will
henceforth think the thoughts and do the deeds of a man."

Such an experience had come to Frank; and thus, on the new morning, as he
beheld it rise out of the sea, his spirit spake unto him.

He answered his mother's letter, confessing that his conduct had afforded
only too good a foundation for Jack's stories.

"The trouble, I think, is," said he, "that I wrote my promises first
with _a pencil_. They did get a little _rubbed out_ I own. I have since
taken _a pen_, and written them all over again, word by word, and letter
by letter, _with ink_. So you may depend upon it, dear mother, that not
another syllable of my pledge will _get blurred_ or _dimmed_, either on
the _leaf of my Testament_; or on the _page of my heart_. Only _believe
this_, and