"You afford me great pleasure, Arthur," he said slowly; "I am sure I shall not be disappointed in you. Yet you must not forget that, in the practical issues of life, sentiment must occasionally be set aside." The lad pondered for a few moments, saying then: "I do not quite understand you, sir." Mr. Temple briefly explained his meaning. "Merely, my son, that the circumstances of life frequently call for the exercise of wisdom, and that we must look carefully to the results of our actions." Arthur Temple was always ready for an argument. "I do not know how I should act if wisdom and sentiment clashed. I have heard you say I am given to sentiment." "Yes, Arthur; but you are young." "I hope never to alter, sir. What I intended fully to say was this: that if a matter were before me in which wisdom and sentiment clashed, I do not know how I should act. But I do know how I should act in a matter where wisdom and justice pulled different ways. I may not always be wise; I should despise myself if I suspected that I should not always be just. Had I to choose between a wise and a just man, I know whose hand I should take. Why, sir, it enters into my love for you"--his arm here stole around his father's shoulder--"that I know you to be a just man, incapable of a base or mean action! I will follow in your footsteps; the example you have set me shall not be thrown away." The conversation was then continued in another strain, and shortly afterwards Arthur Temple bade his parents farewell, and started for the New World. From the moment the lad placed his foot upon the vessel which conveyed him from his native land, it seemed as though he were animated by a new life. The lassitude and languor which had weighed upon him were blown away by the fresh breezes that swept across the seas; his pulses beat more briskly, his blood flowed through his veins with fuller force. The pale, sickly lad whose feeble health had but yesterday caused his parents so much anxiety, became drunk with animal spirits, and was the life and soul of the ship. He had his quiet hours, when he would sit in happy silent communion with the spirit of beauty which touched every natural effect in air and sea with heavenly colour, which whispered to him in the silence of the night, when the stars shone peacefully on the waters, and in the storm, when fierce winds lashed the seas to fury. There was exhibited in him that combination of forces which is the special attribute of some highly-strung sensitive natures: a wild riot of animal spirits which compelled him to become the noisiest and foremost in every noisy crew, and a calm, spiritual repose which demanded perfect peacefulness of body and soul. In the New World, he passed a happy time. His name and his father's position and reputation in the home-land were sufficient to ensure him a welcome in every circle, and the rare qualities he displayed endeared him to all with whom he came into association.