Hartley. Anna was more accessible to him in company, for she was not so frequently as before the partner of some gay friend.

The more intimately Anna knew Hartley, the more she thought about him. There was something, to her eye, beautiful in the honest simplicity of his mind, and attrac tive in the moral strength of his character. At first he had seemed a common man, She had responded to his attentions whenever she was thrown into his company, because she was kind to all who were worthy of kindness; but as she met him oftener, knew him better, and marked the orderly character of his mind, and the healthy tone of his sentiments, she could not but admire him. And when he ventured to call to see her at her father's house, she received his visit with pleasure, although she had not the most distant suspicion that his call was anything more than a friendly visit.

After he had gone away, Anna sunk down upon the sofa, in the parlour, alone, and fell into a dreamy musing state of mind. Many images, dim and but half defined, floated before her; and mingled with them was the form of young Hartley. She heard the sound of his voice, and remembered many sentiments he had uttered.

this was pleasing to her.

And all

The young man trode the pavement, as he walked homeward, with light footsteps, and a lighter heart. Anna had not refused to see him. And more than that: She had sung and played for him-the music sounding sweeter to his ears than anything he had ever heardand seemed interested in all the conversation that passed between them.

In a week Hartley called again. But this visit was far from being as pleasant as the first. Anna seemed reserved. What could it mean? Had she suspected his feelings. And did she mean to repulse him? The thought embarrassed him, and made their intercourse, during the hour that he stayed, unsatisfactory to both.

The young man did not venture upon a third visit. He was afraid. The coldness of Anna, it was evident to his mind, arose from a dislike towards him, and he shrunk from the direct issue of an open repulse.

Two months passed, and not once during that time had Hartley ventured to call upon the maiden who was in all his waking and dreaming thoughts. Two or three times he had met her upon the street, and, although she had spoken to him, there was something shy about her -something altogether unsual in her mannner. He interpreted it to mean a dislike for him; but he was a young man, and little acquainted with the language of a woman's heart.

CHAPTER XII.-WOOED AND WON.

SOON after, Hartley, who could not erase the image of Anna Lee from his mind, determined, in a moment of half desperation, to call upon her once more.

"If she dislikes me, I will see it, and I want some certainty," he said to himself.

Under this feeling he visited her.

"Mr Hartley is in the parlour," said a domestic, as

she opened the door of the room where Anna was sitting with her parents.

Mr Lee looked into the face of his daughter, and saw that the announcement had disturbed the quiet tone of her feelings. But whether the effect were pleasing or otherwise, he could not tell.

"Tell him I will be down in a few minutes," Anna said, rising. She took a light and went to her own room, where she re-arranged her hair, put on a collar, and made some trifling alterations in her dress. She lingered a few minutes after this, to give her feelings, which were more than ordinarily ruffled, time to calm down. Then she descended to the parlour.

Hartley had been waiting for her in a state of nervous uncertainty. Upon the character of her reception of his visit, hung all his hopes. If she smiled upon him, he would be the happiest man in existence; if she repulsed him by her manner, he would be the most miserable. He was in this state of mind when Anna came in, and advancing towards him, offered her hand with a graceful face, and a manner so frank and warm, that the young man took instant courage. In a little while they were conversing together perfectly at ease, and each interested in and silently approving the sentiments uttered by the other. When they separated, both felt happier than they had been for weeks. Why it was so with Anna, she hardly dared to acknowledge to herself. To Hartley, as far as he was concerned, the matter was plain as day-light. He did not suffer many days to elapse before calling again. To his great delight he was received as kindly as before; and even half-blind as he was from

over-modesty and bashfulness, could see that there was something warmer in the face and eyes of the maiden, than expressed an ordinary friendly feeling towards an acquaintance. He now visited Anna regularly, and was ever a welcome guest.

On one occasion, after Hartley had paid close attention to her for two or three months, there was a freer exchange of sentiments, and the onversation was upon subjects that brought out from both an expression of the leading principles that ought to govern in the common affairs of life. Hartley was pleased to find that Anna had sound views upon all the questions that came up; and she was no less gratified to perceive in him, as she had often before perceived, a basis of good sense, a clearly discriminating mind, and a love of truth for its own sake. They had been speaking of the beauty of moral excellence, when Anna remarked-and she did so to see how far his principles led him,

"But to come to the real truth at last, Mr Hartley, moral excellence is nothing, if it be not the result of Christian principles in the heart."

Hartley looked at the maiden, but did not reply.

"In fact," she resumed, "unless all our actions are regulated by divine love, our morality has but a slender base to stand upon-is, in fact, only an assumed and not a real morality, and when the storms of temptation arise, and the floods beat against it, it will fall."

He still remained a silent but admiring listener; and she went on

"A man may render civil obligations to his country, because his interest is involved in doing so; and be may

act in all the varied relations of life with external faultlessness, and yet not be in heart a good man, or a good citizen. He may obey the laws, because he thereby secures his own good; and he may be hospitable, and kind, and generous, from a love of the world's good opinion; but, if he could believe that it would be more to his interest to violate the law, what would hold him in obedience to that law? Or, if he were placed in circumstances where he could not forfeit or gain the world's good opinion, would he be generous and hospitable? But, if he is a good citizen, and a moral man from religious principle—that is, if he be actuated by the pure and lofty principles of a disciple of Christ, seeking in the diligent pursuit of business, no less than in the privacy of his closet, to serve God; then will he be in reality a good citizen, and a truly upright man. Is it not so, Mr Hartley ?"

"Doubtless all you have said is true," returned the young man. "But who around us is thus governed by

religious principles ?"

"Many, I hope."

"Can you name one?"

The maiden's cheek became slightly suffused as she replied, after a moment's hesitation.

"Yes; one, at least.".

"Who is it?"

"My father. And it is to him I am indebted for the light that my own mind has received on so important a subject."

"Do you not know another?"