The ruddy flame imparted the glow of health to a countenance habitually pale. Over his dark, enthusiastic eye was spread a clear and noble brow, so smooth and polished that it seemed as if at seventy it would be as unwrinkled as at seventeen. His piercing eye had that depth of expression that indicates dark passions or religious melancholy. He was slender in form, and very tall; but a bend in the shoulders, produced by agricultural labor, or by weakness in the chest, impaired somewhat the symmetry of his form. They had been silent some moments. The young man closed his worn volume, an imperfect copy of Virgil, and walked several times, with hurried steps, across the little room. At length he stopped before the woman, and said, "Mother, let me see how much your frugal care has hoarded. Let me know all our wealth. Unless I can procure another book, I cannot be prepared for the approaching examination. If I cannot enter college the next term, I never can. I must give up all hope of ever being any thing but the drudge I am now, and of living and dying in this narrow nook of earth." "No, no, my son," answered the woman; "if my prayers are heard, you will be a light and a blessing to the church, though I may not live to see it." The young man sighed deeply, and, taking the key she gave him, he opened an old-fashioned chest, and, from a little cup of silver tied over with a piece of leather, he poured the contents into his hand. There were several crowns and shillings, and two or three pieces of gold. Apparently the examination was unsatisfactory, for he threw himself into a chair, and covered his face with his hands. The old woman rose after looking at him a few moments in silence, and laid her hand gently on his shoulder. "My son," she said, "where is the faith that sustained your ancestors when they left all their luxuries and splendor, their noble homes for conscience' sake. Yes, my son, your fathers were among the distinguished of England's sons, and they left all for God." "Mother," said he, "would that they had been hewers of wood and drawers of water. Then I should have been content with my lot. Mother, all your carefully hoarded treasure will not be enough to pay my first term in college. Without books, without friends, I must give up the hope of an education," and the large tears trickled between his fingers. "You forget," she said, "your good friend at C. who has lent you so many books. Why not apply to him again?" A deep blush flushed the young man's countenance, but he made no answer, and seemed to wish to change the subject. "It is almost evening," he said; "shall we not have prayers?" and, placing himself near the window to catch the last rays of departing daylight, he read one of the chapters from the Old Testament. The aged man, who had not spoken during the discussion, stood up and prayed with great fervency.