st every vicissitude of life incident to both
the palace and the mountain cave, can here lay me down and place my hand
upon my heart and call my God to witness that I die in peace with all
men, and without a single fear or dread. I only ask that you will see me
decently interred."

The tears gushed into Daniel's eyes as he gave the promise. The old man
perceived it and said--

"Do not weep for me, my young friend, but rather weep for yourself. My
troubles are over, but yours have scarcely begun. Ignorance loves to
persecute knowledge; but there is one blessing attendant on true wisdom;
for it renders its possessor impervious to the darts that are hurled at
him, and he rises above the petty animosities of earth and feels an
inward satisfaction, a proud consciousness of superiority that the
ignorant can never know."

The eyes of the old man, sunken and dim, were turned upon the young man
as he spoke, and his wrinkled features assumed an expression of joy
rarely seen upon the human countenance, even when in health and
prosperity. He was above the ordinary size of men, and his large frame
stretched along the earth looked like some mountain god taking his rest.
His long white eyebrows arched boldly above his eyes, and his silvery
hair was brushed back, leaving his massive brow bared to the gentle
sunbeams as they streamed through the dense foliage of the overhanging
trees. There was a serenity and an expression of benignity about his
countenance that irresistibly attracted the heart of Daniel Kelford, and
made him reverence him. He seated himself by the old man, and raising
his head leaned it against his bosom.

"Thank you, my young friend," said the aged man; "I shall now die
without a struggle. I am in no pain; and as I yet have a little time
left me, I will talk with you about Elinor Manvers."

"Elinor Manvers!" exclaimed Daniel, with surprise. "Do you know her?"

"I have seen her once," said the old man; "and he who has done that can
never forget the vision of beauty that has blest his eyes. But I know
her well. I know her soul is as pure as her own mountain streams; but it
is unformed, and to you is committed its nurture. You can assimilate it
to your own, or absorb it within your own, and make it soul of your
soul, one and inseparable, imbuing it with the same thirst for
knowledge, the same exalted aspirations. She loves you with an intensity
never excelled; and already the shadow, or rather the light, of your
s