verging towards old age. He was, however, eagerly sought for in all consultations, and the more laborious part was conducted by his only son, a young man of superior abilities.

It happened one day that he was with this son engaged in considering the case of the Duke of B., whose noble seat of Fellwood is, as you must know, an attraction to all admirers of magnificence. My friend set off, after dinner, in a fine summer evening, having left me in his study, occupied with the perusal of a favou rite author. His good dinner and good wine, however, produced a not unusual effect with me; the letters of the book by degrees danced before my eyes; at last they became invisible, and I sunk into a quiet and profound sleep. From this indulgence I was roused by the hasty gallop of a horse, dashing over the stones, and stopping suddenly at the door of the house. The bell rung a loud peal, and I heard a hurried inquiry, "Is Mr Wiseman at home?" "No," said the servant; "both my master and Mr George are gone to Fellwood; the Duke is thought to be dying, and they will not be home before night." "Good God!" said the other, "what will be done?""Why," said old Betty, sure Squire Weston is not ill, or my lady?" "No, no! Heaven be praised," answered the servant," but that dear, beautiful Mrs Templeton is worsemuch worse; and Hannah says," he continued, now absolutely choked with feelings, for which I could not account, that she will not live through the night." "Poor soul !" said old Betty; " 'tis desperate unlucky that my master's from home; but-" Here I could remain quiet no longer; I knew Mr and Mrs Weston; the former had been for years the representative of the county, and was equally beloved and respected; but his wife, my dear Sir, is one of whom my powers can give but a very feeble description; unassuming, yet dignified,-affable, yet conscious of the advantages with which she is blessed, she is at once the admiration of the wealthy and the learned, and the protectress and benefactress of the indigent. In short, she has long been my model of female perfection, and I had often told my friend Wise

man, that an hour passed in her company should recompense him for many a weary and tedious one spent with the triflers of the day.

was

But I am digressing-I made an offer of my services, at the same time telling my name; they were eagerly accepted, and mounting a a horse of my friend's, we were soon within the shrubbery of the Elms, the seat of Mr Weston. The beams of the setting sun were brightly tinging the superb old mansion, one of the finest of Elizabeth's reign, and they gleamed, also, with radiant splendour on the venerable oaks and elms that adorned the pleasure-ground. We rode very fast, and I alighted, breathless, just as the door opened by Mr Weston. He saluted me with much kindness, but his countenance, which usually seemed the temple of chearfulness and mirth, was this evening clouded with care. He invited me to the dining-room, and ringing the bell, desired Mrs Weston to be called. She came immediately, and repeated the welcome of her husband, with all her accustomed sweetness; but her interesting and intelligent eye was dimmed with tears, and her cheek was deathly pale; she was evidently exhausted by fatigue and watching; she inquired if Mr Wiseman had given me any account of the state of the patient. I replied in the negative, telling her we had both been so unremittingly occupied in the consideration of the case of the Duke of B, (which was attended by some circumstances peculiarly remarkable,) that, during my two days' residence with him, we had spoken of nothing else. "My poor friend," she said, "is past all medical relief, as tending to produce any material alteration. She is in the last stage of a lingering decline, but we hope it may be in your power to soothe the approaches of death, which are evidently very near. You will have no alarms to combat, as she is perfectly conscious of her own danger, though I can scarcely call it by that term, for she hails it as a merciful and gracious release from much sorrow and suffering. Her mind is quite resigned, and, with the exception of ourselves, she has bidden adieu to all her earthly friends; but although death wears

to her the aspect of a welcome friend, to those who have watched her with our love, and our alternate hope and fear, oh! it comes, even now, when months have elapsed since hope left us, still a bitter trial." Her tears were flowing fast; Mr Weston cleared his throat several times, and tried to speak, but unable to express his feelings, he rose hastily, and left the room. Mrs Weston now offered to conduct me to her friend. I followed in silence, for I am a husband and a father, and, besides, I am a very weak-hearted old fellow. As we ascended the stairs, we met one or two of the servants, and all wore the expression of heartfelt sorrow: we entered the chamber which was so soon to be the temple of Death; but, oh God! what a victim he had chosen! Supported by pillows in her bed, sat the loveliest female I had ever beheld; but the moment we opened the door, Mr Charles Weston (a younger brother) was reading a prayer to her, suited to her expecting the summons to meet her Maker. One hand rested on his shoulder, and she listened with eyes beaming gratitude and hope; her colour, at our entrance, flushed bright and soft as the rosy tint of the summer sun, now just sinking below the horizon, and the loveliness of that vermilion gleam was beautifully contrasted by the marble whiteness of her brow, which was shaded by very dark hair. Perhaps in the days of youthful happiness those eyes of melting softness had been bright and sparkling; nay, her whole countenance appeared as if it had once been of that loveliest order, when, at the glance of affection or kindness, the smile is lighted up, which seems, like the rainbow, to brighten even the darkest hour with joy and love. Now all that dazzling light was gone, but, in its stead, was the far more touching and tender gleam of piety and resignation. You will think I am dwelling long on her personal appearance, my dear Sir; but had you seen it, you would have felt, as I did, that such a sight could be expected but once. It was never to be forgotten. At her feet, on the bed, was a little girl in the happy thoughtlessness of infant health; she was busily employed

in arranging some flowers that were scattered on her lap, and near her. Now and then she raised her little eyes to her mother, but smiled, unconscious that the look which then bent so fondly on her was about to be withdrawn for ever: as she saw me, she crept closer, and hiding her laughing face in the folds of the clothes over her mother's bosom, soon fell asleep. I approached Mrs Templeton, and put a few questions to her, by which, and feeling her pulse, I found that ere the morning would again dawn on that world, of which I saw the fairest ornament, she would be sleeping that sleep which knows no waking. Never did I experience so bitterly the inutility of all mortal science, when the fiat has gone forth from the Eternal. I suppose my eye was moistened, or my countenance told too plainly what was passing in my mind, for the dear sufferer, turning on me a look inexpressibly sweet and holy, said, "I shall soon be happy: is it not so, my dear Sir? Do not be cruel enough to hide from a prisoner the tidings of approaching freedom." Then observing the expression of anguish in Mrs Weston's face, she took her hand, and pressing it to her heart, said, "My dear friend, I am going to my Creator, to pray that he will redeem, for his poor help less creature, the vast debt she owes you. None but He can repay you for goodness of which the world knows not, and, even told, would seem incredible. Think not that I am leaving you unmoved; no,-there are moments when my weak soul clings with agonizing fondness to those beloved friends who have strewed these last few steps of my weary path with blessings; but oh! think that where I am going, you will shortly join me; and, instead of the frail, sinful mortal, broken-hearted from the unkindness of those who should have protected me, you will find me happy, and enjoying the blessings of Heaven. Yes!" she proceeded, clasping her hands and looking up, (while her eye had something in it of heavenly expression,) " I do trust in my Redeemer, that he has pardoned my many sins, and that ere this tomorrow I shall be in His presence." She stopped, quite exhausted, and her head sunk on her pillow. I gave

her a cordial, and she revived. A servant entered for the child, who was still asleep. Mrs Weston, pale as death herself, but composed, and tearless, stood supporting Mrs Templeton, and now lifted the slumbering infant; but in doing so, the child woke, and turned eagerly to her mother. Mrs Templeton begged it might be laid for a moment in her arms, and bending down, she imprinted a long kiss on its forehead; and as the loving babe twined its little soft arms round her neck, and kissed her again and again, the first tear I had seen her shed dropped silently and alone upon its cheek. "Farewell, my sweet child," she said, " for I shall never again look on you; may your life be longer and happier than your mother's, and may you never cease to love and bless those bounteous protectors, who have made that mother's dying hour a joyful one, by promising to watch over you!"

The child clung closely to her, and with much difficulty was prevailed upon to be removed by the poor girl, who was crying bitterly. Mr Weston and his brother were both standing at the foot of the bed. Mrs W. and myself were on each side of the dying Mrs Templeton, who requested us all to kneel, and to join with her in a last prayer. We complied, and Mr Charles Weston, in a voice which, in spite of all his efforts, would falter, prayed long and fervently. When he stopped, she again thanked and blessed them for their long kindness to her;" and now," she continued, taking the hand of each of the gentlemen, "I must say to you also, my good friends, farewell! My breath is fast shortening, and I have yet to pray for those dear ones that are far from me, and I must pray too for my husband. I am well, thou dear, respected, best of friends. Do not grieve for me. A few years will soon roll on, and we shall meet again in that blest land, where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest. You will, I am sure, endeavour, by the consolations of that religion of which you both so truly prove your profession by your practice, to comfort my poor mother for the loss of a child, whom, though erring, she so fondly

loved. She has already drank deeply of the cup of affliction; but oh! tell her, had she seen the death-bed of her poor broken-hearted Constance, she would have felt, that, in religion, sorrow loses its stingdeath and the grave their victory. My little one will smile, perhaps, on the coffin of her mother soon; but a time will come when she will weep, for I know you, my friends and comforters, will teach her to love that mother's memory, whose last prayers will be for her happiness." I urged her earnestly not to agitate herself, by continuing to talk, as my fears were strongly excited lest the decayed vessels of her weak frame should, by bursting, render her dissolution painful and suffocating. She thanked me tenderly, and giving her hand to Mr Weston, repeated only the word "Farewell!" The bro thers pressed the thin white fingers to their lips, and taking each other's arm, left the room without a word. At Mrs Templeton's earnest request, I then candidly told her the time she would probably last, and which exceeded not a few hours. With a smile of humility, gratitude, and joy, she received the awful intelligence, and crossing her hands on her bosom, said meekly, "Thy will, O Lord, be done!"

During the whole scene, Mrs Weston had uttered not a word; but as I gave my opinion to her friend, a pallid hue stole over her features, and she shuddered. I offered, nay, entreated to be allowed to remain with her, and, after some resistance, succeeded, for I dreaded the effect of her expiring on her invaluable friend Mrs Weston; but the latter having quitted us for a few minutes, returned with a countenance changed to placid resignation and composure. She spoke cheerfully even, both to myself and Mrs Templeton, and arranging the pillows of her friend, we had soon the satisfaction of seeing her yield to a soft and gentle slumber. Mrs Weston now urged iny leaving them, as she perceived my own health was far from good, and my spirits most powerfully affected. I consented to seek some rest in another room, but not to quit the house. When I descended the stairs, Mr Weston

called me into the dining-parlour, and requested my opinion if Mrs Templeton were really as near her end as she believed. I told him I feared she would not see the morning. He sighed deeply, and begged me at all events to see her early the following day. I retired, and at last the morning dawned, but she was gone! Mrs Weston had remain ed by her, and after sleeping quietly for two hours, she awoke much refreshed, and conversed gaily with her friend for some time. She talked not of illness, nor of the sorrows and sufferings of later years, but of scenes in her early youth, when she had known sorrow only by name; but at length these brought her to think on one whom she had loved, and on another whom she had married, and she became melancholy and thoughtful, yet still she considered herself so much benefited by a sleep more tranquil than any she had enjoyed for many months, that she said, smiling, “ Perhaps, I shall live to trouble you yet longer, my kind nurse." She entreated Mrs Weston to leave her as soon as she should again sleep; but that lady, having letters to write, remained by her bed-side, while she slept quiet as an infant on the breast of its mother. About midnight, Mrs Weston thought she might call the nurse, (who had been taking some hours sleep,) and retire herself to rest. Just as she reached the door with this intention, she heard her friend sigh deeply, and the sigh was accompanied by a low fluttering noise, like the wing of some sweet bird. She stopped-listened; but all was again still; she returned, however, to the bed, thinking the pillow might have

sunk too low: a candle was in her hand; and as she withdrew the curtain, it gleamed on the face of Mrs Templeton; but there was a change in that face; the spirit had fled! I was immediately called, and I found her head resting still, in the peaceful attitude of profound sleep, on her pillow. The colour had not quitted her cheek, nor the smile her lips, and she looked "the loveliest" still, for it was that first hour of death, so beautifully described by one who has now passed through that hour himself. But the lingering hope that she had only fainted was soon removed. Gradually, the never-to-be-mistaken hue of the grave crept over that beautiful clay, and I left her friend to indulge her long-restrained feelings in the soothing, painful relief of tears. Some day I will tell you her early history, which was confided to me by Mrs Weston, and is one of those pathetic tales which the children of wealth and prosperity think fictitious, for they cannot imagine them.

Whether my readers will participate in my feelings I know not, but my friendly acquaintance had excited an interest by his little story, which, I am not ashamed to confess, made me . silent and thoughtful for many hours after. He had hinted that the sorrows of Mrs Templeton were occasioned by a husband, and I will not tire out your patience by enumerating the many reflections such a consideration brings with it to the mind of a man of feeling: how many miseries have the faithlessness of one sex occasioned in the fond, confiding heart of woman! But enough ;-should this please any of my readers, the Doctor's promised sequel shall not be forgotten by L. A.

MEN do not cease to be, what time they die:

We say but that their pilgrimage is o'er ;

Their bark is shatter'd, but they've gain'd the shore

The peaceful shore-of immortality, Where triumph waits, with happiness and joy,

And bliss celestial reigns for evermore.

Our sighs and tears, 'mid music of eternity!

With scenes for ever brightening on our view,

Enjoyment's fair hand still more bestowing Than we can wish for-Pleasure ever new Shall bliss rain from her gold cup over

flowing,

With all we priz'd on earth for love and truth,

rude roar,

youth.

A.