Louis' mind was in a more than usually peaceful state, and his heart overflowed with quiet happiness as he looked down from the height of Brandon Hill upon the city below.

He and his companion had walked on rather faster than the rest of their school-fellows, and now stood waiting till they came up.
"A penny for your thoughts, Mortimer," said his companion, a pleasant-looking boy of fifteen or sixteen years of age; "you are very silent to-day--what may be the subject of your profound meditations ?" Louis hardly seemed to hear the question, for he suddenly turned his bright face to his interrogator, and exclaimed, "What a beautiful sight it is to see so many churches together, Meredith! I think our churches make us such a happy country." [Illustration: Louis and Meredith on Brandon Hill.] "Upon my word," replied Meredith, "you are endowing those piles of stone with considerable potency.

What becomes of commerce and--" "I mean, of course," interrupted Louis, "that it is religion that makes us a happier country than others.

I love so to look at the churches; the sight of one sometimes, when all is fair and quiet, brings the tears into my eyes." "Hey-dey! quite sentimental! You'd better be a parson, I think." "I hope I shall be a clergyman--I wish very much to be one--there is not such another happy life.

I was just thinking, Meredith, when you spoke to me, of a verse we read yesterday morning, which quite expresses my feelings: 'One thing have I desired of the Lord which I will seek after, that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the fair beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in His temple.'" Meredith looked with some surprise at Louis, and as they moved on he said carelessly, "I suppose somebody will have the gratification of beholding me in a long gown some day, holding forth for the edification of my devoted flock." "Are you going to be a clergyman ?" asked Louis.
"Yes, I suppose I must.