from lofty rocks upon the dwellings of man, and shall ever be ready to give you any assistance in my official capacity, and whatever this muscular arm of mine can do, whenever it shall be called from its buried greatness.”  The Major grasped him by the hand, and exclaimed:  “O! thou exalted spirit of inspiration—­thou flame of burning prosperity, may the Heaven-directed blaze be the glare of thy soul, and battle down every rampart that seems to impede your progress!”

The road which led to the town presented many attractions.  Elfonzo had bid farewell to the youth of deep feeling, and was not wending his way to the dreaming spot of his fondness.  The south winds whistled through the woods, as the waters dashed against the banks, as rapid fire in the pent furnace roars.  This brought him to remember while alone, that he quietly left behind the hospitality of a father’s house, and gladly entered the world, with higher hopes than are often realized.  But as he journeyed onward, he was mindful of the advice of his father, who had often looked sadly on the ground when tears of cruelly deceived hope moistened his eye.  Elfonzo had been somewhat of a dutiful son; yet fond of the amusements of life—­had been in distant lands—­had enjoyed the pleasure of the world and had frequently returned to the scenes of his boyhood, almost destitute of many of the comforts of life.  In this condition, he would frequently say to his father, “Have I offended you, that you look upon me as a stranger, and frown upon me with stinging looks?  Will you not favor me with the sound of your voice?  If I have trampled upon your veneration, or have spread a humid veil of darkness around your expectations, send me back into the world where no heart beats for me—­where the foot of man has never yet trod; but give me at least one kind word—­allow me to come into the presence sometimes of thy winter-worn locks.”  “Forbid it, Heaven, that I should be angry with thee,” answered the father, “my son, and yet I send thee back to the children of the world —­to the cold charity of the combat, and to a land of victory.  I read another destiny in thy countenance—­I learn thy inclinations from the flame that has already kindled in my soul a stranger sensation.  It will seek thee, my dear Elfonzo, it will find thee—­thou canst not escape that lighted torch, which shall blot out from the remembrance of men a long train of prophecies which they have foretold against thee.  I once thought not so.  Once, I was blind; but now the path of life is plain before me, and my sight is clear; yet Elfonzo, return to thy worldly occupation—­take again in thy hand that chord of sweet sounds—­struggle with the civilized world, and with your own heart; fly swiftly to the enchanted ground —­let the night-Owl send forth its screams from the stubborn oak —­let the sea sport upon the beach, and the stars sing together; but learn of these, Elfonzo, thy doom, and thy hiding-place.  Our most innocent as well as our most lawful desires must often be denied us, that we may learn to sacrifice them to a Higher will.”