The mother turned a smile full of love, pride and sorrow upon the fine, intellectual face of her boy, and said:
"You are like the angel in Cole's picture of life! You point the youth to the far-up temple of fame——"
"And leave him to get there as he can? Not at all, madam! Let us see: Traverse, you are now going on eighteen years of age; if you had your choice which of the learned professions would you prefer for yourself—law, physic or divinity?"
The boy looked up and smiled, then dropped his head and seemed to reflect.
"Perhaps you have never thought upon the subject. Well, you must take time, so as to be firm in your decision when you have once decided," said the doctor.
"Oh, sir, I have thought of it long, and my choice has been long and firmly decided, were I only free to follow it."
"Speak, lad; what is your choice?"
"Why, don't you know, sir? Can't you guess? Why, your own profession, of course, sir! certainly, sir, I could not think of any other!" exclaimed the boy, with sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks.
"That's my own lad!" exclaimed the doctor, enthusiastically, seizing the boy's hand with one of his and clapping the other down upon his palm—for if the doctor had an admiration in the world it was for his own profession. "That's my own lad! My profession! the healing art! Why, it is the only profession worthy the study of an immortal being! Law sets people by the ears together. Divinity should never be considered as a profession—it is a divine mission! Physic—physic, my boy! the healing art! that's the profession for you! And I am very glad to hear you declare for it, too, for now the way is perfectly clear!"
Both mother and son looked up in surprise.