"I will write first, and let you know where I am." "Give me your valise, brother," and Effie placed in it some sandwiches, which she had prepared with her own little hands. With a hasty farewell, and a brother's warm kiss, Roland turned his face towards the great metropolis, brave, hopeful, trusting, still "Looking aloft." Oh! what need of the talisman now! Sometimes a good-natured farmer would give him a lift on the road; and, at the end of one week, he found himself, weary and lonely, entering the great city. One dollar was all that was left in his pocket-book. Rambling listlessly up Broadway, the multitude depressed him; for he felt himself friendless indeed, in this vast surging crowd. Passing Trinity Church, he perceived it open, for it was the time of the evening service. The sound of the organ cheered his spirits, and, joining in the solemn service, for awhile he forgot his worldly cares, and worshipped the Unseen. Perceiving a gentleman mounting the steeple, Roland followed, with the injunction from the sexton not to stay too long, for he should wish to close the church. The gentleman took a hasty glance, but soon descended, leaving Roland to his meditations. What a busy, bustling crowd below! Did they, indeed, belong to the one great brotherhood of man? Each one pushing his own way, apparently so regardless of his neighbor's motions; some to happy, smiling homes; some to dens of poverty and misery; many to haunts of sin. And the streets so filled with carts, carriages, omnibuses, and cars, all threading their way so skilfully through the thronged thoroughfare. The solitudes of the grand mountains was to be alone with God; the dreariness of this human crowd was oppressive, and here, away in the lofty steeple, near the clouds, far above the din and press of this great multitude of humanity, he felt that he could breathe once more. Glancing over the vast city, the numerous steeples all around him reminded him that he was among Christians. "So many Christians!" thought Roland, "and not one knows me; but then every Sunday, in these houses dedicated to God, they pray for the fatherless and the homeless, and I am one." So deeply was he engrossed in thought, and so soothing was the quiet of this retreat from the busy world, that Roland forgot how time was passing. The crowd diminished, evening shadows rendered objects below somewhat indistinct, and the fair moon appeared to light the heavens. Sailing majestically along, sometimes hidden by clouds, then emerging again into all her calm beauty, Roland could not but compare her course to the journey of God's dear children through this wilderness: sometimes obscured by sorrow, yet always coming forth again into the calm, clear sky of perfect peace. Roland remembered that he had no place where to lay his weary limbs that night, and he repeated some of the promises. "When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up."