As the stage, a little after sunrise, drove into that beautiful village, Hiram felt glad to get back to its quiet, charming repose. He thought of the glare and hustle and excitement of New York with no satisfaction, contrasted with the placid beauty of the scene he now witnessed. The idea of being welcomed by Louisa and Charlotte Hawkins filled his mind with pleasure, and Sarah Burns did not at that moment suffer in comparison with the Miss Bennetts. 'It _is_ a happy spot!' said Hiram. 'Can I do better than stay in it?' It was an instinct of his better nature which spoke. He had given way to it for a moment, but _only_ for a moment. The next, the old sense returned and was triumphant. * * * * * The stage whirled on, and soon Hiram was driven up to the house of Mrs. Hawkins. How rejoiced they all were to see him! The widow Hawkins had missed him so much! As for Louisa and Charlotte, they were ready to devour him. Hiram hurried through his breakfast, hastily adjusted his toilette, and walked over to Mr. Burns's house. He rang the bell. The door was opened by Mr. Burns himself. He greeted Hiram most cordially. 'I did not expect you back so soon. Come in; we are just sitting down to breakfast.' 'I have already breakfasted,' said Hiram, 'and am going to the office. Please look these papers over,' he continued. 'By them you will see precisely what I have been able to do.' Mr. Burns took the papers and turned to go in. He thought Hiram had accomplished little, and he did not wish to mortify him by asking what. Just then Sarah Burns came tripping down stairs, and, passing her father, extended her hand to Hiram, and said: 'Welcome back! What have you done?' 'Do not forget your promise,' replied Hiram, in a low, distinct tone. 'I have WON!' AURORA. 'For Waterloo,' says Victor Hugo, 'was not a battle: it was a change of front of the universe.' Great events are developed by nearness. "To-day," says Emerson, "is a king in disguise." Probably half the soldiers of Constantine's army regarded their leader's adoption of the Cross as his sign of hope and triumph as of small account. Their pay and rations, their weapons, their officers, were the same as before; the enemy before them, their duty to beat him, were unchanged. What availed a symbol more or less on the imperial banner? Even admit that it indicated the emperor's personal rejection of the old and adoption of the newer faith, what of that? Would not everybody else abide by the religion of his own choice, whatever that might be? Away, then, with all theological babble, which plain people can never half understand! Rome and the emperor for ever! Yet in that despised symbol, announcing that the Empire had become the protector instead of the persecutor of the Christian faith, was the germ of a greater transformation than was wrought by the Deluge.