crowded into his mind while looking
on that picture. The grief and degradation of his early days: his
dependent situation while with his uncle: the unkind taunts of his
ungenerous cousin; his blighted affections and dreary prospects for the
future. How bitterly did he ponder over these!

What had he to encourage hope, or give him strength to combat with the
ills that beset him on every side? Homeless and friendless, he thought,
like Clary, that death would be most welcome, and sinking upon his
knees, he prayed long and fervently for strength to bear with manly
fortitude the sorrows which from his infant years had been his bitter
portion.

Who ever sought counsel of God in vain? An answer of peace was given to
his prayers. "Endure thou unto the end, and I will give thee a crown of
life." He rose from his knees, and felt that all was right; that his
present trials were awarded to him in mercy; that had all things gone on
smoother with him, like Godfrey, he might have yielded himself up to
sinful pleasures, or followed in the footsteps of his father, and
bartered his eternal happiness for gold.

"This world is not our rest. Then why should I wish to pitch my tent on
this side of Jordan, and overlook all the blessings of the promised
land? Let me rather rejoice in tribulations, if through them I may
obtain the salvation of God."

That night Anthony enjoyed a calm refreshing sleep. He dreamed of his
mother, dreamed that he saw her in glory, that he heard her speak words
of comfort to his soul, and he awoke with the rising sun, to pour out
his heart in thankfulness to Him who had bestowed upon him the
magnificent boon of life.

The beauty of the morning tempted him to take a stroll in the fields
before breakfast. In the parlor he had left his hat and cane. On
entering the room to obtain them, he found Clary already up and reading
by the open window. "Good morning, gentle coz," and he playfully lifted
one of the glossy curls that hid her fair face from his view. "What are
you studying?"

"For eternity," said Clarissa, in a sweet solemn tone, as she raised to
his face her mild serious eyes.

"'Tis an awful thought."

"Yes. But one full of joy. This is the grave, cousin Anthony. This world
to which we cling, this sepulchre in which we bury our best hopes, this
world of death. That which you call death is but the gate of life; the
dark entrance to the land of love and sunbeams."

What a holy fire flashed from her meek