THE YOUNG CLERGYMAN. "HERE is a letter I have just received," said Mr. Butler to his daughter Sarah, as they were sitting in their parlor one evening; can you guess from whom?" "Why, how should I know, father? perhaps it is from uncle Henry in Boston, or one of your correspondents, on business." "It is from Edward Morton. He tells me that he took his degree at college last week, but is too modest to add, what every body knows, that he left the university with one of the first honors; that he intends to be a clergyman, and to commence his studies immediately. Here is the letter." She took it negligently from his hand, but read it carefully through, then threw it upon the table, and said, in a tone of mingled surprise and mortification : "Well, I am sorry for it." "And why should you be sorry?" said her father. "Because," she replied, with a slight blush; "because clergymen are such sober people; look so wise and solemn, as if they were always thinking of a sermon, or some hard book they have been reading. You remember, when Edward was in college, he used to come here, and in that grave way of his, talk of being a minister, and, with a glowing countenance, declare, that it was the noblest profession on earth, and that a pious, faithful minister was, in his opinion, more to be envied than a king. But I never believed he seriously meant to be one him |
