His powers of intellect and sentiments were no less liberal and enlarged, than they were ingenious and elegant. His aspect was serene, and his manners were cheerful, and the unruffled calmness of his mind bore the same character of exalted excellence, and gave testimony of a peaceful bosom, rich in good works. He manifested a lively interest in the welfare of his congregation, and by his genuine goodness and pious example made many proselytes. It was his endeavour to unite the minds of the people in one interest, and excite them to be zealous in the common cause of Christianity, where each individual, acting for the benefit of the whole, would find their own happiness blended with that of society in general, and be blessed in the reciprocal communication of charity and benevolence. CHAPTER VII. "Come, Friendship, twine a wreath for me, And weave it with the choicest flowers, To cheat the ling'ring steps of time, And gladden all life's passing hours." The time now arrived when Theodore was to enter upon his professional studies, and he became engaged in the office of an eminent attorney in New-York. He frequently absented himself, however, to accompany Albert to visit his father's family, and since his acquaintance with Alida, there was a charm that attracted him thither. If he had admired the manly virtues of the brother, could he fail to adore the gentle graces of the sister? If all the sympathies of the most ardent friendship had been drawn forth toward the former, must not all the softer sensibilities of the heart be attracted by the milder and more refined excellencies of the other? Bonville had become the admirer of Alida; of course he and Theodore sometimes met. He had made no serious pretensions, but his particularity indicated something more than fashionable politeness. His manners, his independent situation, entitled him to respect. "It is not probable, therefore, that he will be objectionable to her friends, or to Alida herself," said Theodore, with an involuntary sigh, and as his visits became more frequent, an increasing anxiety took place in his bosom. He wished her to remain single; the idea of losing her by marriage, gave him inexpressible regret. What substitute could supply to him the happy hours he had passed in her company? What charm could wing the lingering moments when she was gone? How different would be the scene when debarred from the unreserved friendship and conversation of Alida. And unreserved it could not be, were she not exclusively mistress of herself. But was there not something of a more refined texture than friendship in his predilection for the company of Alida? If so, why not avow it? His prospects, his family, and of course his pretensions might not be inferior to those of Bonville.