But a short time before her death, she had shown to one of her most intimate Christian friends, a volume containing the New Testament and the Psalms, which she had had bound together and interleaved with blank pages. "This," said she to her friend, "I design for my wedding present to you." Indeed," said her friend, 'and why not give it me now?" "No, my dear," replied Clementine, "not now, I shall use it myself, and I wish to write something in it before I give it to you."

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After the first agitation occasioned by her death, her friend remembered the promised volume, and as the present was not less precious as a relic than as a gift, she was eager to gain possession of the book, which she considered as her own. It was not to be found; she examined the chamber herself in vain; she continued her researches without success; the intended bridegroom assured his friend, that he had

not, as she had suspected, removed the volume; at length, by inquiring minutely of all the persons who had assisted in the performance of the last offices preparatory to the funeral, the destination of the lost treasure was ascertained.

It is usual in France to raise the hands of deceased persons, place them on the breast, and support them in that position by some object that had belonged to the departed. In this case, a book, a volume of sermons much read by Clementine, had been selected by her attendants. When the Baron came to take his final farewell of the body of his child before the coffin was closed, he inquired what book supported her hands; and when informed, "That will not do," said he; "the Bible was my daughter's book: is there not one here?" Among the books in her chamber was found the interleaved copy, designed for her friend; the title-page was shown to

the Baron, "Ah!" said he, "that was her book;" and he placed it under the hands of his unconscious daughter: under those hands that had often been joined and raised in prayer for her beloved father.

The lady who had thus lost the promised pledge of her eternal friendship with Clementine was consoled and in some degree compensated for her disappointment, by the assurance that the grave of her lamented friend contained the proof that a certain measure of sympathy of sentiment on the most important subjects united the afflicted Baron and his departed child.

The funeral of this young lady formed a scene of interest and solemnity, unprecedented in this city. Her remains were first carried to the Lutheran Church, where a prayer was offered up amidst the tears and sobs of multitudes, and then deposited in the Cemetery of Père la Chaise, where a discourse was delivered by one of the Pas

tors, and another by M. Satrandi, a literary

friend.

Yours affectionately,

M. W.

REFLECTIONS.

READER, you have now perused this short but interesting memorial of the young, the beautiful, the pious Clementine Cuvier; and while the heart is softened, to receive, I would hope, the impression of religious truth, may I solicit your serious and devout attention to the lessons with which the narrative is fraught.

First,-Does it not most impressively remind us of the VANITY OF THE WORLD, and that, in two points of view its insufficiency to make us happy, and the uncertainty of its continuance ?

"Vanity of vanities, all is vanity and vexation of spirit." With such a confession did the man go off the stage of existence, who of all the human race was the best qualified to give an opinion upon such a sub