The Love of God. 137

ceding into the diftance ; “ Theodore! Judge by
your own heart. Even it may teach you better
things !”

Theodore ftarted up and looked haftily around.
He felt as if he could have followed that foft re-
ceding voice into eternity. But there was no one
near. That found, however, had been like an
echo from hopes buried in the grave; and the
poor youth fank to the ground on his knees, and,
hiding his face in his hands, wept bitterly. Sud-
denly one thought took pofleffion of him out of
what had been faid. And it was one (as ufual) of
felf-reproach. ‘The Spirit had reproached him
with leading a life of felfifh mifery! Vividly im-
preffed by this idea, he ftarted off hurriedly for his
home, crying aloud—“ Oh, the wafted time; the
loft hours; the precious moments that might have
been employed in ufefulnefs !” And thus he pur-
fued his way till he had left the outer country be-
hind him, and had entered the gates that bounded
his extenfive domain when, all at once, his courfe
was ftopped by fomething he ftruck againft as he
was walking quickly along. ,

Looking down, he perceived that a fickly,
hungry-looking child was ftretched acrofs the road
afleep, and that by its fide fat a woman, the pic-
ture of mifery and want. Theodore felt a {trong
fenfation of compaffion feize him as he gazed at
the child, and he ftooped and lifted it from the
ground,