The effect of the ministrations of the young pastor, in awakening attention to the subjects of his calling in the village, was marked, and of a kind which brought pleasure to his own heart. But, like all other excitement, it tends to exhaustion, and it was not long before he sensibly felt the decline of the powers of life. To the best regulated mind there is something bitter in the relinquishment of projects for which we have been long and laboriously preparing, and there is something far more bitter in crossing the long-cherished expectations of friends. All this George felt. He could not bear to look on his mother, hanging on his words and following his steps with eyes of almost childish delight--on his singular father, whose whole earthly ambition was bound up in his success, and think how soon the "candle of their old age" must be put out. When he returned from a successful effort, it was painful to see the old man, so evidently delighted, and so anxious to conceal his triumph, as he would seat himself in his chair, and begin with, "George, that 'are doctrine is rather of a puzzler; but you seem to think you've got the run on't. I should re'ly like to know what business you have to think you know better than other folks about it;" and, though he would cavil most courageously at all George's explanations, yet you might perceive, through all, that he was inly uplifted to hear how his boy could talk. If George was engaged in argument with any one else, he would sit by, with his head bowed down, looking out from under his shaggy eyebrows with a shamefaced satisfaction very unusual with him. Expressions of affection from the naturally gentle are not half so touching as those which are forced out from the hard-favored and severe; and George was affected, even to pain, by the evident pride and regard of his father. "He never said so much to any body before," thought he, "and what will he do if I die?" In such thoughts as these Grace found her brother engaged one still autumn morning, as he stood leaning against the garden fence. "What are you solemnizing here for, this bright day, brother George?" said she, as she bounded down the alley. The young man turned and looked on her happy face with a sort of twilight smile. "How _happy_ you are, Grace!" said he. "To be sure I am; and you ought to be too, because you are better." "I am happy, Grace--that is, I hope I shall be." "You are sick, I know you are," said Grace; "you look worn out. O, I wish your heart could _spring_ once, as mine does." "I am not well, dear Grace, and I fear I never shall be," said he, turning away, and fixing his eyes on the fading trees opposite. "O George! dear George, don't, don't say _that_; you'll break all our hearts," said Grace, with tears in her own eyes. "Yes, but it is _true_, sister: I do not feel it on my own account so much as----However," he added, "it will all be the same in heaven."