versation naturally turned upon the subject of the sermon, and Constance, no less than her father and brother, heard with delight the remarks which fell from him. The sensitive mind of affection, could not but draw the most flattering inferences from his words; and as they were seated in the parlor, awaiting dinner, an opportunity for farther insight into the views and feelings of Edward occurred. This was occasioned by the remark of Mr. Barnwell, intimating the pleasure with which he had heard the announcement that the sacrament of the Lord's supper would be administered on the following Lord's day. 'I can now, I trust,' said Edward, 'understand something of the nature of your feelings, in prospect of this interesting Christian solemnity. I hope soon to be blessed with the privilege of kneeling at the altar.' Mr. Barnwell cast a look of undisguised pleasure at Constance, who dropped her eyes while her heart beat high. In few words Edward then informed them of the religious inquiries, in which he had been recently engaged, and of their result. He dwelt without disguise upon the conflict he had undergone; of the darkness through which he had passed; of the light and comfort which had followed. He spoke as a penitent sinner, to whom the way of pardon and of peace had been mercifully opened; and in the sincerity of his self-accusings, and the depth of his humility, and mistrust of self, his friends believed they discerned the genuine operations of the Spirit of God. "Thank God!-thank God!' exclaimed Charles, rising and taking his friend's hand in his own, while his noble heart swelled with emotion. The tears started to the eyes of Constance at this sudden expression of her brother's happy feelings. Surely, to her, this was a day of unmingled happiness. The afternoon, for there was but one service at the Church,-was spent in conversation and reading. The evening was occupied by Mr. Barnwell in the religious instruction of his youngest daughter, in the presence of the household, of which the catechism formed the basis. CHAPTER XII. THE SICK CHAMBER-NEW TRIALS. "Thy mercy bids all nature bloom, Twere all as one as I should love a bright particular star.' DARKER days than they had yet experienced were in store for the family. Hitherto, they had been tried only on the side of their worldly interests; and the storm which might have overwhelmed others with despair, had passed over their heads-succeeded by the sunshine. Charles, whose rapidly improving health had inspired him with the hope that he might safely return to his literary labors, had for a ew weeks earnestly devoted himself to a new poem, on a subject suggested by one of his friends, whose good opinion he highly prized. The excitement attending its composition, for a time, seemingly sustained, while, in reality, it was fast exhausting his strength. Mr. Barnwell, though somewhat fearful of the result, was also deceived by the temporary effects which the country air and exercise had produced on his son's health. The deception however was soon painfully corrected. A few days after the short visit of Edward, who had left them in hope of a speedy return, a violent attack of pain confined Charles to his bed. His strength was immediately and thoroughly prostrated; and it was fearful to remark the rapid progress of his disease. A physician was consulted, whose opinion, though expressed with as much encouragement as he dared to hold out, was such as to deepen the painful anxiety of his friends. A melancholy foreboding of the result, founded upon his observation of the course of the same disease in his wife, weighed upon the spirits of Mr. Barnwell, who never left his bedside except when urgently demanded by the necessary business of his farm. Constance, also, unremitting in her attentions, and dividing her care between her aunt and brother, except when engaged in the duty of instructing Josephine, seemed like a sweet angel of love, cheering his despondency, relieving his loneliness, and ministering to his wants. ary The termination, however, was not yet at hand. Reduced to a state of great weakness, the invalid lingered on; and the disease, at first so powerful, seemed to assume a stationcharacter. On some of the pleasant summer days he was enabled to sit for a short time at the open window of the apartment, and even to bear the fatigue of removal to the portico. Hope once more faintly dawned in the bosom of his sisters, as these favorable symptoms became more and more frequent in their recurrence, but they were not able to dispel the conviction of his speedy dissolution from the mind of Mr. Barnwell. The bright sunny countenance of Josephine, so suddenly clouded, became once more radiant with gladness; and the keen anguish of her little heart at the sufferings of her brother, day by day, gave place to hope and gratitude. By a thousand delicate attentions, Mr. Gregory and his family testified their interest towards the afflicted household. Scarcely a day had passed in which George had not spent an hour at the bedside of the friend |