aught the look of kindness upon
that honoured face, and it fell warmly, upon his soul.

"It is right to think deeply," said the revered adviser, "but one
must think rightly, also. You must not look out upon the world, from
the darkened corners of your soul, or the hue is transferred to all
things which your glance falls upon. Take the torch of truth and
heavenly charity to chase away the dimness within you, then powerful
changes will be wrought in your vision. You will begin to regard
your fellow man with new feelings of interest. I am a plain and
blunt old man, Alfred, but you know that my only desire is for your
good; so bear with my remarks if they be unpalatable."

"Certainly, sir, I value frankness before flattery."

"You may say that you have never been _perfectly_ happy," continued
the old gentleman; "that is neither strange nor uncommon, for I have
met with few thoughtful persons of your years, who, upon close
reflection, could say that their souls could desire no more than had
been granted to them. You must seek for resignation, not entire
bliss upon earth, although it is possible that you may enjoy it for
a season."

"Why is joy so transitory and unquiet so lasting?" demanded the
young man impatiently.

"The fault is not in the transitoriness of the joy, but in the very
soul itself,--it is in a state of disorder; its nature must be
changed before it can receive for ever only the image of gladness.
In a chaos of the elements, can a smiling sky be always seen? Lay
asleep all unruly elements in the spirit, and a pure heaven of
brightness will then greet the uplifted glance."

"But how can all this be done, grandfather? hath unruly elements do
you speak of? What can I do; for instance? I certainly am willing
and glad to see my kind happy--if my soul be in disorder, I do not
know in what it consists, or how to bring it to order. I am weary of
its unsatisfied desires; it is, continually in search of something
which it has never caught sight of,--and the fear, that that
unknown, yet powerfully desired something may never come to quench
my thirst, falls with the coldness of death upon my bosom."

"That something may be found by every human being, if sought for in
the right way. Those yearnings are not given us, that they may fall
back and wither the fountain from which they spring. But the
question is, do we seek for happiness in the right way? Do we not
rather ask for an impossibility, when we ask for perman