"
"I will do so!" replied Alfred, firmly. "If my purposes are right in
the sight of Heaven, I will be supported."
"True, my son."
Alfred left the home of his grandsire, more at rest with himself and
all the world. Fresh peaceful hopes again sprang up within him, and
he began to see his way clear. He reasoned himself into resignation,
and, as day after day went on, he grew grateful for the privilege
and opportunity offered to school his rebellious spirit to order.
Four years passed; Alfred was engaged in the busy world, and he
shrunk not from it, but rather sought to do his duty in it. One
summer evening, he was called to enter the large, old-fashioned
house of his grandfather. His brow was thoughtful, but calm and
resigned--he sought a quiet room; it was the chamber of death,--yet
was its stillness beautiful and peaceful; he knelt by a dying couch,
and clasped the hand of his aged grandsire--then he wept, but the
unbidden tears were those of gratitude. The serenity of heaven was
upon the countenance of the noble old man.
"My hour has come, Alfred," he said, placing one hand upon the
beloved head bowed before him, "and I go hence with thankfulness.
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