"I think if you could have seen as much of the young man as I have during the past year, you would thank God for your official prerogatives. He has never received a hint that it was possible for his term of punishment to be shortened; and yet he has shown as much deference, docility, penitence, and steadiness as if the length of his incarceration depended upon a manifestation of these traits rather than upon the sentence of his judge."

""Tis remarkable for a man who has seen as much of the world as you have, doctor, to retain so much faith in human nature."

"Perhaps so; but I've never yet met a man so degraded, but a spark of some better life seemed waiting beneath the crust of sin for the revivifying touch of a friendly word or a helping hand. Years have given me a broader charity for those whom temptation has conquered, and a stronger reverence for those who have come off victors in the strife. Allow me to thank your excellency, on behalf of the prisoner and his mother, for the clemency you have shown."

"I deserve no thanks; they are wholly indebted to your zealous perseverance for his pardon."

Lewis was told of his great good fortune on Christmas morning, the doctor and his mother only being present while the warden read the official document; and, after a few words of congratulation, he explained to the young man what untiring zeal Dr. Howell and the prison officers had used in obtaining his release, the reasons for their efforts, and the utter hopelessness of obtaining a pardon the second time, should the just retribution of crime again overtake him.

Familiar as were both the gentlemen with all phases of human suffering, grief, and joy, they were hardly prepared

for a scene so pathetic as that which followed the warden's announcement. Kneeling at his mother's feet, burying his face in her lap, for a few minutes convulsed sobs choked his utterance. Mrs. Atwood's tears fell hot and thick upon her son's hair, and her trembling hands clasped his; the delicate woman proved stronger now than he whose crime and punishment had nearly sapped the fountains of her life; but for many months she had been buoyed with the hope of his pardon, while to him it was an unexpected boon.

The mother was the first to speak.

“ "My dear boy, calm yourself; you have only heard half the good news."

66

"O, mother, if I ever wound or disappoint you again, may a worse punishment-"

"Hush, Lewis! I rely on your past bitter experience, your repentance, and the restraining power of God's love, as your safeguards for the future. Rise now, and thank Dr. Howell for all he has done."

The young man rose, held out his hand, for the first time voluntarily, towards his benefactor, but words again failed him.

"Those of us who have been at work for you, Lewis, don't want thanks; we only want your future life should show us our labor has not been in vain. Your mother will tell you the remainder of the good news."

"I want to hear nothing better than that you and those who have known me during the last year can trust me."

"You need no other assurance of our confidence than what is contained in that official document. We should have made no efforts to obtain it, had you continued to manifest the same spirit that governed your actions during

the first two months of your imprisonment. Come with your mother, and dine with us at four o'clock, and then you can tell me how you like our plans for your future."

Neither Lewis nor his mother attempted further expression of gratitude in words; but there vas that about the young man's face and tearful eyes which gave a stronger testimony of his thankfulness than mere words could give a something which was to the warden and the doctor a pledge for the future, and an assurance that their zealous efforts to obtain his pardon had not been unworthily bestowed.

Lewis Atwood's appearance in Dr. Howell's parlor was a marked contrast to what it was when he was first introduced to our readers: then, with the mark of his crime and punishment branded on his face, sullen defiance and hardness in his tones and in his eyes, none but the most sanguine could have looked forward to such a complete transformation. Wholesome exercise had developed a fine physique; penitence and humility had washed the stains of guilt from his face, while hope lighted up the features that one year ago were so clouded with despair, moroseness, and crime. His hours of study had not passed without leaving their footprints on his face; while the influence of the noble-hearted warden, the faithful chaplain, the accomplished professor, who had taught Lewis civil engineering, and Dr. Howell, the Christian philanthropist, added to the tender watchfulness and selfsacrificing devotion of his mother, and the interest and confidence of Diantha, had more than counteracted the pestilential breath of prison life; they had given him new aspirations, new motives, and shown him the possibility of making his old life the stepping-stone to a future which should be crowned with honest endeavor, and deeds that

might be bound in God's sheaves. And Dr. Howel, noting the calm trustfulness of Mrs. Atwood, and her son's manly courage, asked no other reward for his labor; while Diantha, with a full heart, sang,

"Make us glad according to the days wherein Thou hast afflicted us, and the years wherein we have seen evil."

"And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us; and establish Thou the work of our hands upon us; yea, the work of our hands establish Thou it."

CHAPTER XXVIII.

FOREIGN AND HOME ITEMS.

"And now what rests but that we spend the time
With stately triumphs, mirthful comic shows,
Such as befit the pleasure of the court?"

SHAKESPEARE.

"The fruit of the righteous is a tree of life; and he that winneth souls is wise."

PERHAPS neither the Golden Gate nor any other brave ship ever bore to a new land of hope and promise two persons more truly and humbly grateful than were Mrs. Atwood and her son Lewis. The mother's rejoicing did not overflow in words; it was tempered by the remembrance of those depths of grief and despair from which she had so recently risen; and though her faith in Lewis's regeneration was unclouded, yet the future rarely reveals itself in brilliant colors to one who has lived to see the wreck of so many hopes.

The small party of emigrants were waiting for the train which would take them to New York, from whence sailed the Golden Gate; and Dr. Howell and Diantha, not satisfied with their mission of love, which had wrought such a marvellous transformation in the mother and son, were standing near to sustain and encourage them as long as possible. It was a picture full of pathos to see the confidence with which the pale, worn, but peaceful face of Mrs. Atwood was turned towards the more hopeful one of the