situation into which he was about to enter; he told
him, with as much tenderness as possible, what his father's and his
mother's characters were; that they never knew the fear of God, and
that they acted as most persons do who are rich and powerful, and who
are not led by Divine grace; and he pointed out to him how he ought to
behave to his parents, telling him that he must not be led away, but
must persevere in well-doing. These, with many other things, the good
Claude besought Henri always to have in remembrance, as he hoped to see
his Redeemer in the land which is very far off; and he ended by giving
him a little Bible, in a small velvet bag, which he had received from
his own father, and which he had been accustomed to carry in his pocket
in all his visits to his poor people. In these days, Bibles are so
common that every little boy and girl may have one; but this was not
the case in former days; Bibles were very scarce and very difficult to
get; and this Henri knew, and therefore he knew how to value this
present.

"It would only trouble you were I to describe the sorrow of Claude's
family when, the next morning, Henri, according to his father's orders,
was dressed in a rich suit of clothes, and set upon a horse, which was
to carry him from among the mountains to the Castle of Bellemont, where
the Marquis's carriage waited for him. Henri could not speak as the
horses went down the valley, but the tears fell fast down his cheeks;
every tree and every cottage which he passed, every pathway winding
from the highroad among the hills, reminded him of some sweet walk
taken with Claude and his sons, or with his dear foster-mother. As the
road passed under one of the cottages which stood on the brow of a
hill, Henri heard the notes of one of those sweet hymns which Maria had
been accustomed to sing to him when he was a very little boy, and which
she had afterwards taught him to sing himself. Henri's heart at that
moment was ready to burst with grief, and though the servant was close
to him, yet he broke out in these words:

"'Farewell, farewell, sweet and happy home! Farewell, lovely, lovely
hills! Farewell, beloved friends! I shall never, never see you again!'

"'Do not give way to grief, sir,' said the servant; 'you are going to
be a great man; you will see all the fine things in Paris, and be
brought before the King.'

"The servant then gave him a long account of the grandeur and pleasures
of Paris; but Henri did no