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temples where the thronging steps of worshippers shall sound no more for ever; the

pyramids, solemn sentinels above the dead of ages; and the embodiment of desert mystery—the sphinx. Though no living voice breaks upon the charmed stillness to utter her ancient legend—though the tongues that syllabled her teaching sunk to silence, ages ago, beneath her shadow-her silent lips shall reveal a wondrous lesson to the heart that listens aright.

“ Children of earth, hear my voice, and read my legend; let him who would know my secret come, and in the stillness of night ponder my words and interpret the mystery. Ye live amid the wild struggles of life—that ocean that with perpetual unrest ebbs and flows, where surges for ever foam against rocky shores, or where wave follows wave only to faint and die upon

the sand. “Far beneath lies the deep heart of humanity, brooding in eternal calm over its buried treasures—the wrecks of life's best hopes. Let him that waketh come! I will teach him the mystery of life.”

“Thou heart of stone, with thy cold impas. sive brow, looking for ever upward, away from the strife and turmoil of the world, what canst thou reveal to aid us in our life toil ?"

“What mortal numbers these pulses ? Lay thy hand on the cold bosom of earth, where the ice-bound cataracts stand—a changeless emblem of wasted energy, for ever seeming to press forward, never attaining: canst thou count the throbs of the heart of fire beneath? Deep in my soul burn, like the unquenchable lamps in magicians' tombs, the memories of ages.

“The mighty hearts of old! In these vast solitudes they read deeply the mystic lore of nature, and they told their faith in stone, and left it a sign and a landmark to all future generations. They who once peopled these wide domains—they who, beneath these glowing skies, toiled and triumphed, and suffered and wept—have passed away; and through long silent

ages,

I have gazed up to the distant stars, and beheld them sweep along through their vast cycles, which are eternities, which are uncalculated because the mind of man cannot reach the scale of their progression; through long silent ages I have felt the sandy billows of the desert break around my feet, and still I watch, and still I wait.

“Come, stand by my side: let thy weary heart calm itself in this profound stillness ; let the patient watching of ages steal into thy restless soul, and teach thee also to wait till thy brief day shall end in rest, which shall be calm and deep."

CHAPTER IV.

EARTH'S SIIADOWS.—THE STORY OF A LIFE.

" The one remains, the many change and pass;

Heaven's light for ever shines, earth's shadows fly.
Life, like a dome of many-colored glass,
Stains the white radiance of eternity,
Until death tramples it to fragments."-SHIELLEY.

CORNELIA and Milly Boylston were so generally included by their acquaintances in the phrase "the Sumners,” and treated so entirely as the other children of the family, that few persons imagined they were not very near relatives. To explain their adoption, it will be necessary to glance back over a period of ten years.

Ten years ago, then, one chilly October evening, during the cold frosty days that usually precede the Indian summer, and give us a foretaste of winter firesides and closed curtains, the doctor and his wife sat together in their cozy parlor. Tea was over, the children gone to bed, and the little round work-table drawn to the fire, beside which the doctor sat reading aloud, now and then glancing up from his book to catch the sympathetic light in his wife's lovely eyes.

They were interrupted by a ring at the bell, followed by a well-known voice at the door.

“Will his honor see Biddy Riley just for a moment?"

“Let her come in here," said Mrs. Sumner; and Biddy entered, full of apologies for " throubling the masther,” and addressing her rather incoherent story to both her hearers.

“But indade misthress, dear, I couldn't find in my heart to lave it any longer; so I just got a neighbor woman to mind the shop whilst I ran down to see the masther."

“Who's sick, Biddy?” said he: “not you, that's very evident.”

“ It's just the poor lady that has my room above stairs, yer honor; and a lady she is, bred and born, and as sweet-spoken as ever ye heard,

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