CHAPTER X.

THE changes of life are admirably denominated by the sacred writers trials. They are designed to try our characters; and bring to the proof their strength and excellence. The energies and weaknesses of our nature often lie concealed in the depths of the heart, even from the eye of the possessor, till they are brought to light by the shifting events of Providence. Moses objected to his appointment as the legislator and guide of Israel, from a sense of his utter unsuitableness, and, yet, in the experiment, he appears most highly gifted for the duties assigned him. Hazael, vexed with a prediction of his own baseness, indignantly exclaims, "Is thy servant a dog, that he should do this thing?" and, yet, he lived to accomplish the detested prophecy. How much are we indebted to divine providence, when the circumstances of life are so arranged, as to nourish what is good

within us, and to restrain and consume what is evil!

At the appointed time our young friends hastened to greet each other in London. They renewed, with mutual and growing delight, their accustomed pursuits and pleasures. They continued in these exercises, without disturbance, for nearly two years; but, as they have been sufficiently noticed for the reader's general information, we shall pass over a period, which, though it is recorded in memory as one of the most interesting and profitable, might be considered tame in narration.

About the close of this period, circumstances arose, which materially interrupted the intercourse, and broke the co-operation of Douglas and Lefevre, in plans of personal improvement, and pious benevolence. Duty called Mr. Douglas from the capital; and, as in future, he will pass many months of each year in distant parts of the three kingdoms, he must be regarded rather as its visitor, than its resident. This change

will considerably vary the complexion of

our history. The name of Douglas will not be so necessary to illustrate the life of Lefevre, and it will, therefore, not so frequently occur.

The prospect of separation was to Lefevre peculiarly painful. On his first acquaintance with Douglas, he had a love of literature, and a desire of improve ment; but his reading was desultory, and his habits irregular, arising from a certain restlessness of temper, which fostered a love of change. These little defects, common to the most engaging youthful characters, had found a valuable corrective in the friendship of Douglas. His habits, his attainments, and even his religious engagements, seemed grafted on this friendship; and it distressed him exceedingly to endeavour to think of them apart.

"Ah!" said he, as he was riding a few miles with his friend, on his departure from town, "I cannot tell you how I dread this separation. I am afraid I shall quarrel with all our favourite pursuits."

"The separation, my dear Charles, is painful; but let us not, by our wilful

ness, render it injurious. Remember we must pursue an object that is really good, for its own sake, independent of contingencies, prosperous or adverse. If we suffer ourselves to be ruled by circumstance, woe to our virtue and our peace. We are like the vessel without rudder or sail-the sport of every wind and wave. Besides, the exquisite pleasure we have had in our different pursuits, will be sufficient to determine your future course."

"I don't know," rejoined Lefevre. "Whatever pleasure may arise from my solitary exercises, it cannot equal what I have realized in union with you; and, therefore, the very comparison may be discouraging."

"But," said Douglas, with a smile, you speak as though you were pronouncing an epitaph over a deceased friendship. Our friendship is not expired, nor expiring. It is neither the slave of circumstance nor death. And, even our intercourse will, I trust, suffer little interruption. We shall yet have many and long opportunities of meeting; and, when apart,

a regular exchange of letters may still procure a community of studies and enjoyments,"

Lefevre's countenance brightened on his friend. They journeyed on, adjusting the plan of correspondence, till they came to Hounslow, where the bitter words of separation were to be uttered. They wrung each other's hands, and parted. "Farewell!" said Lefevre.

"Farewell, my dear Charles!" said Douglas; and then, looking with softened affection, added, " Beware of Wallis!"..

The name of Wallis, though strange to the reader, was familiar to the ear of Lefevre.

This young man was established in the same office with him, though in a different department; and was his superior in years. In addition to the rewards attending this situation, he possessed, by the death of his father, considerable property, which did not fail to give him some importance in the eye of his associates, and more in his own estimation.

Wallis was master of some common