childhood! Have they not stood in the place of parents to me! Watched over my infancy with kindest care; shielded me from the world's storms, in peace and happiness till now! Still it is a parent's call; and there is such a magic in the sound, that my heart bounds at the summons, and I fly with gladness to him!

Surely we have many of us felt how mixed is the cup of life :-pain and pleasure go hand in hand; and rarely comes the one without the other: in our highest gratifications there is something of disappointment; and in sorrow there is generally some alleviating circumstance attendant.

And thus it was with Eliza-grief at leaving the home of her youth, and anticipated pleasure in being welcomed to the arms of her remaining parent, held for a time alternate sway; until as the distance to the one increased, and of consequence lessened to the other, the latter feeling entirely predominated..

This summons to her father likewise

proved to Eliza that she was not so utterly forgotten, as in many bitter moments she had believed. Her uncle and aunt had supplied to her the place of the most indulgent parents, and she had loved them as fondly; but yet her heart was not completely satisfied: she could not endure to remember that she had really a father she had never seen, and who seemed utterly indifferent to her existence. An occasional reply to her regular letters, a slight commendation, and a banker's check, had hitherto been the extent of his remembrance; and now this summons to his presence appeared to Eliza a new epoch in her life,

Mr. Laurence was silent and contemplative, and Eliza, occupied in reflection, was not very loquacious: each seemed buried in their own thoughts. Eliza was engaged in conjectures. What would her father say. How would he look. In what manner receive her. What sort of person was he; tall or short; dark or

fair. His appearance, his manner, his dress, were all subjects of conjecture; and Eliza, after many fluctuations of opinion, had at last painted a portrait in her own mind, which she felt assured must be like him. She had heard in general terms that he was handsome, but so many painful ideas associated with his name, that both Mr. and Mrs. Davenant always shunned to mention it. The subject seemed interdicted, and to the inquiries Eliza had sometimes ventured to make, unsatisfactory answers alone were given, so that at length she had wholly desisted.

But when drawing near the metropolis, Mr. Laurence seemed to rouse himself from his inward contemplations, and began more frequently to address his companion. He saw the excitement of her mind every moment increasing, and he wished if possible to ameliorate the intense eagerness of her feelings.

"Eliza," said he, "with a faint smile, "it is, you know, in my province to advise, and you have always hitherto lis

tened to me with attention."

"It has been both my duty and my inclination."

"It is well, my dear, when inclination and duty go hand in hand: with you may they always do so. But you are going into a new world, to mix among people of widely different sentiments from those you have left. Do not be misled by fallacious reasoning, nor shamed out of your best feelings by light-mouthed raillery. Perhaps ridicule is the most potent enemy religion has to contend with; but be you strong in your integrity, Eliza; in all the trials and troubles of this life there is an invisible arm which holds a shield before us, and if we do not rather chuse to rush into the conflict, we may remain in security: my child, your only safety is to rest in peace be

hind it, for if you once step forward to a presumptuous trial of your own strength, you rush into the most imminent danger.

"It has been well said, happy is it for those whose habits are on the side of virtue. "You have this advantage-this incalculable advantage. You have not to enter into any new path, but simply to continue in the one you have been walking in from infancy. The difficulty would be to change from the good to the evil, not from the evil to the good.

"And Providence has been pleased to lighten the difficulties of your earthly pilgrimage; for you have no strong passions to contend with, none of those high and proud thoughts that distract and torment the possessors. From the natural mildness of your disposition you are spared many trials, which others less constitutionally favoured, must pass through. Think then, Eliza, with this gentleness of temperament, and these habits on the right side, how far more inexcusable must