The Democratic advocate., 1878-07-20

AiS oS SURF VI congenfal life-w0rk.
Poetry he had tried, but given it up
years before. StOry-writing was not his
forte. Writing books, merely for the sake
of authorship, would be dreary work. He
thought he would like writing for the re-
views, but he saw that the circle of his
influence upon the minds of his fellows
would be but little extended by this means.
In this state of perplexity he fell asleep.
1t was several days afterward he next
met Grace alone. His manly heart thrill
led as he stood by her side. His ioy was
mingled with an eager expectancy as he
looked once more into her speaking eyes,
for there was something wonderfully help
full in her quick, sympathy and sugges-
tive remarks.
"Mr. Gordon, | have been wishing to
see you. l have found something inter
esting for you to read, she said, holding
up folded newspaper.
As Basil held out his hand for it he
thought there was nothing he could read
with deeper interest at that moment
than the beautiful face before him.
"You are very kind, Miss Grace. .
Then he added, in tones that were con-
strained in spite of his efforts to assume a
gay and airy manner, "And l have been
wishing to see you
They strolled along the high ground
above the beach The sun was Just set
ting as they seated themselves upon rus
tic iron bench and turned their faces to-
ward the sea.
"Miss Grace, when look at those waves
that move on with worldwide sweep and
throw themselves upon the shore with en-
ergy so sublime, am reminded Of the
noble spirits of the past. They wrestled
with the world. The storms of persecu-
tion reused them to mightier deeds. They
rose in grandeur above their fellows, and
will be forever visible to prosperity. One
sometimes forgets them in the midst Of
the jostling time-servers with whom he is
compelled to mingle, people travelling, with
their narrow views, petty schemes, and
short-sighted and ofttimes selfish purposes.
the beaten paths of life, and sneering at
him if he seems unwilling to walk there
with them; he forgets the great and is
tempted to let his ambition sink to level
of those about him. But when he looks
upon a scene like this the old restlessness
comes upon him. His spirit chafes. 1t
struggles to be free"
After pause of some moments, Grace
said d,-"Will you let me show you now what
| wish you to read in Mr.. Cheston's paper?"
"With the greatest pleasure, - he replied,
opening the paper and handing it to her.
She pointed to the editorial note and to
Parke Godwin's article, both of which she
had read and re-read.
Having rapidly read the note, Basil
turned with quickened interest to the arti-
Gle, of which we give but couple Of brief
extracts:
"No man requires larger range of in
tellect, more varied requirements, or greater
strength of character, than the conductor
of public journal. OF course, we allude
to one who acts with full sense of the
dignity and worth of his calling, and a
conscientious desire to discharge its duties.
Neither statesman, lawyer, nor divine
moves in a broader sphere, or has more
occasion for the use of the noblest faculties
both of mind and heart. The journalist
stands in immediate contact with the pub
lie mind; he gives tone to public senti-
ment; he is the guardian and guide Of
public morals.
Why is it that 4 means so intimately
connected with human happiness as the
press, so powerful over social issues and
human destinies, has SO seldom been used
by men of the loftiest endowments
1t is not because the sphere of the jour
ndiisS II loO CDltEaCltu lUT II uOulc dmDi-
tion; for it is a sphere as wide as the uni
verse of intelligence, and as durable as
language. As means of swaying the
minds of men, which is the essence OF
power, as an instrument for elevating so
cietv, which is the object of goodness, as
a vehicle for the expression and enforce.
ment of thought, the press is without an
equal among all the constituted agencies
of human utterance."
"At last thank God said Basil, in
low, earnest tones, laying down the paper
and turning toward Grace. l owe my
brightest hopes in life to you, Grace" he
added.
Then he clasped the little hand that lay
near him, and told her there by the sea.
side in the fading twilight the story of hi.
love- He told it in the terse words of q
soul deeply moved. She did not draw
away her hand, and when they rose to re
turn there was look of ineffable happi.
ness in her beautiful eyes.
Basil, standing more erect than ever
looked every inch man, and upon hi.
proud lips there fingered smile.