said by the three ladies, and especially by Lady Anne, who looked, in her chastened and pensive loveliness now, like the name given her by Sir Allan during their first acquaintance; "the white rose of Stratharden." The young Chief, as he gazed at the pure and chastened loveliness of her beautiful countenance, repeated to himself these lines:

"I have play'd the coward,

And, in the sloth of false humility,
Cast by the pearl I dared not to deserve.

How laggard I must seem to her, if she love me!
'Tis not too late."

The evening twilight streamed into Lady Edith's sitting-room, diffusing its gorgeous hues on every surrounding object, and all nature looked in a state of prosperous felicity, when a chariot unexpectedly drove past the window at which the party were sitting, and stopped at the gardengate. Lady Edith, never doubting that this was an invasion from Eaglescairn, felt satisfied that McRonald would be quite sufficiently peremptory in excluding strangers; therefore, not an anxious thought crossed her mind on the subject till the door of her drawing-room slowly opened, and she saw several persons advancing.

McRonald's whole countenance was flushed and excited with joyful surprise when he entered, supporting on his arm the venerable Bishop of Inverness, his hair white as snow, his form attenuated to a perfect skeleton, his step feeble and tremulous, but his eye bright with a look of

intellectual benevolence. There was a solemn composure in the aged prelate's aspect; but there was the stamp of death on every emaciated feature of his countenance, as he languidly advanced towards Sir Allan. Breathing with difficulty, the Bishop appeared for some time unable to speak, while agitation as well as infirmity combined to render him silent.

The Bishop being placed on a corner of the sofa next to Sir Allan, held out his thin white hand with a look of dignified affection to his old pupil, who grasped it in his own with affectionate fervour, but turned away to hide the livid grief in his countenance and the tears that fell drop by drop on his faded cheek. At length the aged Bishop found voice to say, in a whisper broken with emotion, "I have risen from my death-bed, Allan, to see you once more. The hourly miracle of human life is soon to end for me; but, as you know, the blessing of an old man, even if we differ, can bring no one any harm, and I bring you mine."

A solemn pause ensued, while the Bishop became evidently engaged in prayer. He then raised his eyes with mournful kindness to the face of Allan, at which he earnestly gazed, and laying his hand impressively on the arm of his much-loved pupil, he continued with quivering lips and in an accent of the profoundest emotion. His fine old head now reminded Lady Edith of Goethe's, "a grand cupola lighted from below:

"I see you thus, Allan," he said, "and yet my heart does not break! Years have passed since we

met, but only days or hours can intervene now till we part,― perhaps for ever! I nightly pitch my moving tent a day's march nearer home. Allan McAlpine, the words I now speak are among the last my voice is ever to utter on earth. At the call of duty I came here, hoping yet, perhaps, to deliver from ruin my long-loved parish, my long-loved congregation, and my long-loved pupil. Seeing the grave open at my feet, I have wished that my dying prayers be uttered here. The first consecrated voice which ever taught you, Allan, the worth of your soul, may possibly be listened to now, as an expiring testimony to Scripture truth, before the tomb closes darkly between you and me.'

Lady Edith, Lady Anne, and Beatrice, sat as immoveable as if turned into marble, while Sir Allan raised himself from the pillow to listen more earnestly, and the venerable Bishop with difficulty continued," You have been most unexpectedly placed in this house by what seems the special intervention of Providence. Here, in the cool depths of a calm retreat from all dangerous excitements and from all the bewildering heats of controversy, you have lived in darkness and solitude alone with God. I trust, Allan, that you have felt the comfort of a direct access to His throne of mercy. I feel as sure as that I live, breathe, and speak, and must soon cease to do so, that the privilege of private prayer is granted to each individual man; for our Lord came personally upon the earth to testify, by

His holy companionship with men, that it is to himself face to face, without any intervention, that we are permitted to appeal. The Apostles, when asked by the jailor at Philippi, What must I do to be saved?' did not say, • Come to us as priests and confess.' They did not sell him an indulgence, nor desire him to pray to the Virgin and saints. No, their simple direction was, Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ." "

"Go on," said Sir Allan, in an earnest, though feeble tone, "your voice is very dear to me. It seems like the echo of happier days.

"Old love, old fancies,

Buried for years, leap from their tombs, and proffer
Their magic service to my new-born spirit.'"

"Nothing in nature is so extraordinary to me as the dislike men have to ask their own pardon of their own Saviour. Let us suppose an illustration of such conduct. For instance, my very dear pupil, I have travelled far to-day for this meeting, and you must be aware that I would cut off my right hand, or put out my right eye to benefit you. Suppose that now, instead of frankly making me any request, you turned away from me and whispered aside to Lady Edith or to Mrs. Clinton, both my much esteemed friends, that you wished they would intercede with me to grant you a special favour; might I not naturally say, 'Why employ another? Why not believe that, coming to serve you, I am ready to do so? Why ask any intervention, when my whole mission here is,

with one only desire to prove that there is nothing within the compass of my power which, if you ask it from myself, shall be denied?' Can any woman who ever was canonized, be as able or as willing to protect us as our own divine Master?

These lines were repeated by the Bishop of Inverness with a depth of fervour never to be exceeded, and his aged voice shook with emotion. The venerable man appeared almost to see that which is invisible, and required no tangible image of wood or stucco to bring before his bright benignant eye the vision of Him, whose form and whose words, engraven on his heart, were never for an hour forgotten in his best affections. The Bishop of Inverness needed no external genuflections or crossings to express the fervour of his devotion; but while his languid body remained still as a corpse, his eye shone with intellectual devotion as he added, in a voice of intense solemnity"Soon, very soon, I shall be in the immediate presence of a hitherto invisible Saviour. my home shall be where most of those I ever loved have long ago preceded me, and nightly I return thanks for every friend safely departed in

Soon