"Calm thyself daughter," said the man of the commonwealth with a smile," but come with me, and thou mayest trust thyself with me, I will tell thee, I am him whom men call Oliver Cromwell."

"Glorious Patriot!" said Mary, "I have heard thy name, aud after my father and my lover there is no man I honour so much."

Cromwell was agitated. “And thus,” said he with a sigh, "would others speak of me did they but know my heart. I have done all in my power for my country, however man is ungrateful. But there is one that understands me," continued he pointing to heaven, "if he approves I am satisfied.

This great general in after moments, surprised his soldiers by issuing from the hovel arm in arm with our heroine, who was still weak.

We must change the scene. The whole republican array were marshalled in the market place of Drogheda. Every window of the houses was filled with anxious and watchful faces. Cromwell mounted on a lofty war horse, was silent: in the midst of his men sat he, his visage was unusually stern. A small chosen picquet was near him. Not far distant was a knot of officers, amongst whom the towns-people recognized Henry Cornwallis. Cromwell waved his hand for silence, then raising his voice he calmly said :—

"Soldiers of God, and ye who are engaged in the works of the Lord, hearken to my words, which though rarely raised in reproof against you must be even now. Aye verily as a father chasteneth his children, as the Lord them that he loveth, so I rebuke you this day. Ye have greviously and unrighteously been disobedient to my words, ye have listened to the temptation of the evil one, ye have hearkened even unto the Devil, for ye have slain the vanquished with the edge of the sword. Ye have conquered in mercy, and lo! they cried, 'deliver me from the sword, my darling from the power of the dog,' and ye heard them not, no more shall the Lord God of Israel hear you in your visitations of trouble. What sayeth your prayer? even as I forgive those that have trespassed against me, do thou forgive my trespasses. Truly if ye act thus I may say 'the troubles of my heart are enlarged, but I have hated the congregation of evil doers and will not sit with the wicked. I will wash mine hands in innocence.' Yes," continued the soldier of the commonwealth, "ye have followed the temptation of the evil one, even the example of your enemies, who will cry such are the deeds of those who say we are the men of God.' Go to ye bloody minded men, go to ye ravenous wolves, for ye have made your victory a trangression and a field of blood, which henceforth it shall be called. Lo it shall be as a witness against you. Go to and sin no more."

The rude soldiery were abashed at the reproof of their beloved leader and was silent. Cromwell once more raised his voice and said, "where is Henry Cornwallis who saved my life?"

He stepped from the crowd, and thunders of applause from the soldiers, shouts of approbation from his fellow citizens, and waving of handkerchiefs from the women greeted him. A deathlike paleness was on his countenance, he bowed low but not a word escaped his lips.

“Young man,” said Cromwell, “you have deserved well at my hands, and your promotion shall not be unminded. Behold your present reward!" The general waved his hand, the chosen picquet opened their ranks, and Mary flew into the arms of her lover, Cromwell having restrained her from dissipating the fears of Henry, in order to give more effect to his speech. "Take her Cornwallis," said old Somerville who was with her, "you have won her." What more need we say but that Cornwallis served faithfully under, and Mary never ceased to bless the name of OLIVER CRomwell.

Ten thousands lights burned throughout the Alberoi palace, and all the nobility of Florence flocked to the bridal of its wealthy lord. It was a fair sight to see the stately mirrors which spread their shining surface between pillars of polished marble reflecting the gay assemblage, that, radiant with jewels, promenaded the saloon or wreathed the dance to the witching music of the most skilful minstrels in all Tuscany. Every lattice was open, and the eye far as it could reach, wandered through illuminated gardens, tenanted by gay groups, where the flush of the roses, the silver stars of the jasmine, the crimson, purple, orange, and blue of the variegated parterre were revealed as if the brightest blaze of the day flashed upon their silken leaves. Amid all this pomp of beauty and splendour the bride moved along, surpassing all that was fair and respledent around her, by the exceeding loveliness of a face and form to which every eye and every heart paid involuntary homage. At her side appeared the exulting bridegroom, to whom, however, more it should seem through diffidence than aversion, her eyes were never raised; for though Count Alberoni had advanced beyond the middle age of life, yet he still retained the majestle port and commanding linaments for which he had been distinguished in early youth; his riches rendered him all potent in Florence, and none dare dispute with him the possession of its fairest flower. Intoxicated with the pleasures offered at the banquet and the ball, whatever of envy or of jealousy might have been hidden in the bosoms of the guests while contemplating the treasure which the triumphant Alberoni had snatched from contending suitors, it was concealed and the most cheerful hilarity prevailed.

Yet, amid the general expression of happiness, there were two persons who, attracting notice by the meanness of their attire, and the melancholy gloom upon their countenances, seemed to be out of place in so stately and joyous an assembly. They were brother and sister, the descendants of Ghibellines, who had died in exile, and distant relations of the Count, who though not

choosing to regard them as his heirs, had, when the abolition of a severe law enabled the proscribed faction to return to Florence, accorded them shelter and protection. Meanly clad in vestments of coarse serge. There were yet no cavaliers who fluttered in silk and velvet, who could compare in personal beauty with Francesco Gonzago; and the bride alone of all the beauties who shone in gold and silver, appeared the superior in feminine charms to the lovely Beatris, notwithstanding that her cumbrous robe of grey stuff obscured the delicate proportions of her sylph-like form. Buoyant in spirit, and animated by the scene before her, occasionally a gleam of sunshine would irradiate her brow, as she gazed upon the sparling throng who formed the brilliant pageant which so much delighted her; but as she turned to express her feelings to her brother, his pale pensive features and the recollection of the intense anguish which wrung his heart, subdued her gaiety, the smile passed away from her lip, the rose deserted her cheek, and she stood by his side sad and sorrowful as some monumental statue. Many persons grieved at the depressed fortunes of the once powerful Gonzagos, but there were others who sneered at their present degredation, enjoying the cruel mockery with which Alberoni had forced the man who had cherished hopes of succeeding as heir-at-law to his immense estates, to witness the downfall of those flattering expectations. Few and slight were the salutations which passed between the dejected pair and the more illustrious guests; but as the bride made the circuit of the apartments, she paused when approaching her husband's neglected relatives, and raising her eyes swimming with drops of sympathy, greeted them with unaffected tenderness. Francesco was unprepared for the gentle kindness of her address, his stern heart melted, his proud glance suddenly changed to one of gracious courtesy; he gazed upon her as upon some angelic being sent down from heaven to soothe and gladden his perturbed soul; and henceforward he saw nothing in the glare, and the crowd, and the splendour around him, save the sweet face and the delicate form of the Countess Alberoni; his charmed eyes followed her from place to place, and so entirely was he engrossed by one object that he did not perceive that the attention of Beatrice was almost wholly occupied by a young and sprightly cavalier, who pursued her like a shadow, pouring tender tales in a not unwilling ear. Group by group the guests retired from the festive scene, and the brother and sister, scarcely able to define the new feelings which sprung up in the heart of each, quitted the magnificent palace to seek their forlorn abode. A pavillion nearly in ruins, was the sole shelter which the proud lord of Alberoni afforded to the only surviving branches of his family, when returning to their native city they found their patrimonial estates confiscated, and themselves dependant upon the niggard bounty of a cold and selfish relative. Slowly recovering from a severe wound which he had received in the wars of Lombardy, and disgusted with the ingratitude of the prince he served, the ill-starred Francesco, was at first rejoiced to obtain any refuge from the storms of a tempestuous world; and the unceasing efforts of his young and affectionate sister to reconcile him to a bitter lot were not wholly unavailing. Summer had spread her richest treasures on the lap of Nature; and the fairy hands of Beatrice transformed the bare walls of the dilapidated edifice which they inhabited into powers of luxuriant foliage, the most delicious fruit also, the spontaneous product of the garden, cooled at some crystal fount and heaped with flowers, tempted her brother's languid appetite; and waking the soft notes of her lute, she soothed his desponding spirit with music's gentlest sound. Fondly trusting that Francesco might be won to prize the simple enjoyments of which fortune could not despoil him, and to find this dearest happiness in an approving conscience, the lighthearted girl indulged in delusive hopes of future felicity. But these expectations were soon damped; as Francesco's health returned he became restless and melancholy; he saw no prospect of arriving at distinction by his talents, or by his sword; peace reigned throughout the Tuscan states, and the jealousy of the

goverment of all who bore the mark of Ghibelline extraction, forbade the chance of successful exertion and honourable reward; his days were spent in moody abstraction, his nights in feverish dreams; his misfortunes, his accomplishments and his virtues failed to excite affection in the breast of his kinsman, who jealous of the youth and personal attractions of the man apparently destined to be his heir, grew uneasy at the thought of benefitting a person he had learned to hate; and suddenly resolving to cut off at once the presumptuous expectations which the luckless exile might have cherished, exerted the influence procured by his wealth, to form an alliance with the most peerless beauty which the city boasted.

A new source of anguish added to the misery already sustained by the wretched Gonzago; his arms was paralyzed by the utter hopelessness of any attempt to emerge from the obscurity to which fate had condemned him; he brooded over the dismal futurity which opened before him; and as a solace to these gloomy meditations, suffered his imagination to dwell upon the charms and graces of the lovely Giacinta, his kinsman's gentle bride. He saw her sometimes flitting through the myrtle groves which skirted the neighbouring palace; and when night favoured his concealment, he would approach the marble porticos to catch the sound of her voice as, accompanied by a lute, she wasted its melody upon the silent stars. Beatrice, in the mean time, experienced only in the pale brow and haggard form, of her brother an alloy to her happiness. Alessandro, the young heir of the Orsini family, had abandoned the gay revels of Florence to share the solitude of the despised Ghibellines; and although there seemed to be little chance of ultimate triumph over the obstacles which opposed themselves to an alliance between the properous scion of a noble house and the unportioned orphan of a banished man, yet hope preponderated over fear, and, blessed by her enchanting smiles, the lover indulged in delightful anticipations.

Again was the Alberoni palace illuminated by innumerable tapers; again were the glittering saloons filled with all the noble population of Florence. A second nuptial feast, more splendid and joyous than the first, was celebrated: again Giacinta, lovelier than ever, shone as the bride, and by her side a cavalier appeared, whose summer of life was better adapted to match with her tender years than the mature age of her late husband had been.

The Count Alberoni Gonzago was dead! and Francesco suceeding to his wealth, had obtained the hand of the widow. Beatrice, also a bride, followed in the train of the Countess, but followed more like a mourner at some funeral solemnity than as the newly wedded consort of the husband of her choice. Francesco all smiles and triumph, as he stood with the fairest hand in Florence hanging on his arm, proudly greeting the guests who crowded to pay homage, turned frequently, and cast looks of piercing examination and reproach upon his pale and trembling sister, and, as if fascinated by his glance. she would rally her failing spirits and smile languidly upon the bridegroom, who bent over her enamoured; and then, as if beguiled from some painful contemplation by the sweet accents of the man she loved, she became calm and her quivering features resumed their wonted placidity. But these moments of tranquillity were of short duration; she started at every shadow; the flash of one of the jewels which broidered her satin robe would cause a fit of trembling; and at length, when seated at the banquet opposite her brother and his bride, a richly clad domestic offered wine in a golden goblet: for a moment she held it to her lips, and then dashed it away, exclaiming-"It is poison! Hide me-save me. I see it every where in those green leaves from whence it was distilled. Oh! Francesco, let us be poor and happy!" The guests shrunk aghast from the speaker, who, falling from her seat, expired in convulsions.

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The power conferred by Gonzago's immense riches silence d

the whispered murmurs of the assembly. No man rose to higher eminence in the state than the idolized husband of the beautiful Giacinta; but a dark cloud hung upon his house, his children were all cut off in their infancy, and, after a few brief years of outward felicity, struck from his horse by the fragment of a building which fell upon him as he rode in pomp through the city, be received a mortal wound, surviving the accident only long enough to unburthen his soul to his confessor.

His dying words were addressed to Alessandro, from whom since the hour of his nuptials he had been estranged; pressing his hand, he exclaimed-" She was innocent! she heard not of the murder until it had been accomplished."

TO AN ABSENT ONE.

Thou hast sought a far and foreign home,
We may not meet again;

My lute's soft note which charmed thine ear
Hath hushed its happy strain;
Lonely I wander 'mid the gay,
The careless and the proud,
I am all alone, and most alone,

In the busy thronging crowd.

Oh, when may I behold thee, love?
Thy gay and happy tone
Hath music's most endearing charm
And music of its own;

Thy fair and gentle form hath left
A pang within my heart,

Oh, would that we had never met,
So very soon to part.

My beautiful, my brightest one,
If thou wilt wait for me,

No time shall change the heart which burns

And beats alone for thee;

Thy love shall be a guiding star,

A beacon from on high,

I'll own no other rapture than
The rapture of thy sigh.

A thousand girls may grace the scene
Which thou hast left behind
And garlands deck their festive halls,
With sweetest flowers entwined;
But halls, nor flowers, nor girls, may weave
A spell to break the chain

Which links thee to a hope that yearns

To love, and love again.

God bless thee, my own bird of hope,
Make happy thy young heart,
That temple of God's holy love,

Of which it is a part;

May rays of purest light upon

Thy future pathway shine,

And leave a blessing on thy soul, Reflected back to mine.

K. D, F.

THE MARVELLOUS TOWER.

BY WASHINGTON IRVING.

The morning sun shone brightly upon the cliff-built towers of Toleda, when King Roderick issued out of the gate of the city, at the head of a numerous train of courtiers and cavaliers, and crossed the bridge that bestrides the deep roky bed of the Tagus. The shining cavalcade wound up the road that leads

among the mountains, and soon came in sight of the necromantic tower.

King Roderick and his courtiers arrived, wondering and amazed, at the foot of the rock. Here there was a narrow arched way cut through the living stone; the only entrance to the tower. It was closed by a massive iron gate, covered with rusty locks of divers workmanship, and in the fashion of different centuries, which had been affixed by the predecessors of Don Roderic. On either side of the portal stood the two ancient guardians of the tower, laden with the keys appertaining to the locks.

The king alighted, and, approaching the portals, ordered the guardians to unlock the gate. The hoary-headed men drew back with terror. "Alas!" cried they, "what is it your majesty requires of us. Would you have the mischiefs of this tower unbound, and let loose to shake the earth to its foundation?"

The venerable archbishop Urbino likewise implored him not to disturb a mystery which had been held sacred from generation to generation within the memory of man; and which even Cæsar himself, when sovereign of Spain, had not ventured to invade. The youthful cavaliers, however, were eager to pursue the adventure, and encouraged him in his rash curiosity.

"Come what come may," exclaimed Don Roderick, “I am resolved to penetrate the mystery of this tower." So saying, he again commanded the guardians to unlock the portal. The ancient men obeyed with fear and trembling, but their hands shook with age, and when they applied the keys, the locks were so rusted by time, or of such strange workmanship, that they resisted their feeble efforts; whereupon the young cavaliers pressed forward and lent their aid. Still the locks were so numerous and difficult, that with all their eagerness and strength a great part of the day was exhausted before the whole of them could be mastered.

At length the last bolt yields; and then the holy men remonstrated with the presumptuous sovereign, though in vain.— He ordered that the portal be instantly thrown open; the gate however, defied the united energies of the attendant cavaliers and remained immoveable.

The patience of the king was now exhausted, and he advanced to apply his hand; scarcely, however, did he touch the iron gate, when it swung slowly open, uttering, as it were, a dismal groan, as it turned reluctantly upon its hinges. A cold damp wind issued forth, accompanied by a tempestuous sound. The hearts of the ancient guardians quaked within them, and their knees smote together; but several of the youthful cavaliers rushed in, eager to gratify their curiosity, or signalise themselves in this redoubtable enterprise. Shey had scarcely advanced a few paces, however, when they recoiled, overcome by the baleful air, or by some fearful vision. Upon this, the King ordered that fire should be kindled to dispel the darkness, and to correct the noxious and long-imprisoned air; he then led the way into the interior; but though stout of heart he advanced with awe and hesitation.

After proceeding a short distance, he entered a hall, or antechamber, on the opposite side of which was a door; and before it, on a pedestal, stood a gigantic figure, of the colour of bronze, and of a terrible aspect. It held a huge mace, which it whirled incessantly, giving such cruel and resounding blows upon the earth, so as to prevent all further entrance.

The King paused at the sight of this appalling figure; for whether it were a living being, or a statue of magic artifice, he could not tell. On its breast was a scroll, whereupon was inscribed in large letters, "I do my duty," after a little while Roderick plucked up heart, and addressed it with great solemnity: "Whatever thou be,” said he, “know that I come not to violate this sanctuary, but to enquire into the mystery it contains; I conjure thee, therefore to let me pass in safety.

Upon this the figure paused with uplifted mace, and the king and his train passed unmolested through the door.

They now entered a vast chamber, of a rare and sumptuous architecture, difficult to be described. The walls were encrusted with the most precious gems, so joined together as to form one smooth and perfect surface. The lofty dome appeared to be self-supported, and was studded with gems, lustrous as the stars of the firmament. There was neither wood, nor any other common or base material to be seen through the edifice. There were no windows or other openings to admit the day, yet a radiant light was spread through the place, which seemed to shine from the walls, and to render every object distinctly visible.

In the centre of this hall stood a table of alabaster, of the rarest workmanship, on which was inscribed in Greek characters, that Hercules Alcides, the Theban Greek, had founded this tower in the year of the world three thousand and six. Upon the table stood a golden casket, richly set round with precious stones, and closed with a lock of mother-of-pearl; and on the lid were inscribed the following words:

In this coffer is contained the mystery of the tower. The hand of none but a king can open it; but let him beware! for marvellous events will be revealed to him, which are to take place before his death."

King Roderick boldly seized upon the casket. The venerable archbishop laid his hand upon his arm, and made a last remonstrance. Forbear, my son!' said he;' desist while there is yet time. Look not into the mysterious decrees of providence. God has hidden them in mercy from our sight, and it is impious to rend the veil by which they are concealed.'

"What have I to dread from a knowledge of the future? replied Roderick, with an air of haughty presumption. "If good be destined me, I shall enjoy it by anticipation; if evil, I shall arm myself to meet it." So saying, he rashly broke the lock.

Within the coffer he found nothing but a linen cloth, folded between two tablets of copper. On unfolding it he beheld painted on it figures of men on horseback, of fierce demeanour, clad in turbans and robes of various colours, after the fashion of the Arabs, with scimitars hanging from their necks and cross bows at their saddle backs; and they carried banners and pennons with divers devices. Above them was inscribed in Greek characters, "Rash monarch! behold the men who are to hurl thee from thy throne, and subdue thy kingdom!''

At the sight of these things the king was troubled in spirit, and dismay fell upon his attendants. While they were yet regarding the paintings, it seemed as if the figures began to move, and a faint sound of warlike tumult arose from the cloth, with the clash of cymbal and bray of trumpet, the neigh of steed and shout of army: but all was heard indistinctly, as if far off, or in a reverie or dream. The more they gazed, the plainer became the motion, and the louder the noise; and the linen cloth rolled forth, and amplified, and spread out, as it were a mighty banner, and filled the hall, and mingled with the air, until its texture was no longer visible, or appeared as a transparent cloud; and the shadowy figures became all in motion, and the din and uproar became fiercer and fiercer; and whether the whole were an animated picture, or a vision, or an array of embodied spirits conjured up by a supernatural power, no one present could tell. They beheld before them a great field of battle, where Christians and Moslems were engaged in deadly conflict. They heard the rush and tramp of steeds, the blast of trump and clarion, the clash of cymbal, and the stormy din of a thousand drums. There was the clash of swords, and maces, and battle axes, with the whistling of arrows, and the hurling of darts and lances. The Christians quailed before the foe; the infidels pressed upon them and put them to utter route; the standard of the cross was cast down, the banner of Spain was trodden under foot, the air resounded with shouts of triumph, with yells of fury, and with the groans of dying men. Amidst the flying squadrons, King Roderick beheld a crowned warrior whose back was turned towards him, but whose armour and device was his own, and who

was mounted on a white steed that resembled his own war-horse, Orelia. In the confusion of the flight the warrior was dismounted, and was no longer to be seen, and Orelia gallopped wildly through the field of battle without a rider.

Roderick stayed to see no more, but rushed from the fatal ball followed by his terrified attendants. They fled through the outer chamber, where the gigantic figure with the whirling mace had disappeared from his pedestal; and on issuing into the open air, they found the two ancient guardians of the tower lying dead at the portal, as though they had been crushed by some mighty blow. All nature, which had been clear and serene, was now in wild uproar. The heavens were darkened by heavy clouds, loud bursts of thunder rent the air, and the earth was deluged with rain and rattling hail.

The king ordered that the iron portal should be closed; but the door was immoveable, and the cavaliers were dismayed by the tremendous turmoil and the shouts that continued to prevail within. The king and his train hastened back to Toledo, pursued and pelted by the tempest. The mountains shook and echoed with the thunder; trees were uprooted and blown down, and the Tagus raged and roared and flowed above its banks. It seemed to the affrighted courtiers as if the phantom legions of the tower had issued forth and mingled with the storm; for amidst the claps of thunder and the bowling of the wind, they fancied they heard the sounds of drums and trumpets, the shouts of armies and the rush of steeds. Thus beaten by tempest and overwhelmed with horror, the king and his courtiers arrived at Toledo, clattering across the bridge of the Tagus and entering the gate in headlong confusion, as though they had been pursued by an enemy.

In the morning the heavens were again serene and all nature was restored to perfect tranquility. The king therefore issued forth with his cavaliers, and took the road to the tower, followed by a great multitude, for he was anxious once more to close the iron door, and shut up those evils that threatened to overwhelm the land. But, lo! on coming in sight of the tower, a new wonder met their eyes. An eagle appeared high in the air, seeming to descend from heaven. He bore in his beak a burning brand, and lighting on the summit of the tower, fanned the fire with his wings. In a little while the edifice burst forth into a blaze as though it had been built with rosin, and the flames mounted into the air with a brilliancy more dazzling than the sun; nor did they cease until every stone was consumed, and the whole was reduced to a heap of ashes. Then there came a vast flight of birds, small in size and sable of hue, darkening the sky like a cloud; and they descended and wheeled in circles round the ashes, causing so great a wind with their wings, that the whole was borne up into the air and scattered throughout all Spain, and wherever a particle of those ashes fell it was a stain of blood. It is furthermore recorded by ancient men and writers of former days, that all those on whom this dust fell were afterwards slain in battle, when the country was conquered by the Arabs, and that the destruction of this necromantic tower was a sign and token of the approaching perdition of Spain.

HUSBAND'S LOVE.

There is a fragile flower
For woman's hand to rear,

It blooms in fortune's bower,
'Tis sully'd by a tear.

It only thrives beneath
The genial sun and sky;
If cull'd for fashion's wreath
This flower will surely die.

Oh, woman; dost thou know

This little flow'ret's name? Say, doth it grace thy brow,

And win thee purest fame?

Then guard it from the storm, Defend it from the shower, And let its graceful form

Be shielded by thy power.

This lovely flower was sent

By Him who rules above, To give our hearts content→→→→

'Tis called a "Husband's love."

THE ISLAND BRIDE.

I will not go into the minutiae of Young First Love; its pleasures, its innocence, its momentary pangs, which are dissipated with a kiss, a smile, or a kind look: that angelic existence granted to mortals by bountiful nature, at a period antecedent to the toil, torment, strife, and untoward circumstances adherent to us. These short days are passed-and the sexes have had glimpses at one another; there is such innocent coyness!--it does not produce a blush; it is only the tangible mechanical objects which can be understood: the mind as yet has not been brought into action: no dark shadows have flitted before it the sigh of regret is as yet unknown; the heart as yet has not begun to palpitate with mental excitement: the frame as yet is not borne down all is sunshine and gaiety; study, pleasure, and amusement fill up the day: and there is a real rest at night, that sweet sleep, the incomparable gift of nature the restorer of our faculties.

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In this state of things I shall bring Alice Morton and Edward Percy before my readers-the children of Merchants in the City of London. Edward was a few years older than Alice, he had left his finishing school, and from early in the morning until late at night, he was to be found at his desk, under the tuition of his father. His life went quietly on, devoted to his family, and his mercantile pursuits. He had the joy of seeing Alice during her holidays, and then, indeed, vague ideas of a passion he could not well define: but it had this happy effect, that when mundane difficulties perplexed his father, and which he in a measure shared-be looked grave-a sigh might escape -but the thought of Alice-it comforted and consoled him.

I will not particularize the anticipated Balls at Christmas, and juvenile parties at other periods of the year.-Time rolled gaily on :-at length Edward's father intimated to him that it was necessary he should go to India to assist in the superintendence of the firm there; that he now knew enough of business and with a few years assiduity, he would necessarily become a partner in the firm, and return to England in such circumstances as would make him independent for life. Edward was not displeased with this view of affairs, and gladly assented: but he observed to his father, and he was sure he would pardon him in revealing to him a little personal affair, namely, that he thought he liked Alice Morton-very, very much; and if his father would beg of Mr. Morton the permission to allow him to write occasionally to Miss Alice, giving her some of his brief details of India.

Mr. Morton gave a farewell dinner and ball to Edward-and permission was given as to the correspondence; Alice and Edward danced together-they spoke but little-at supper his health and prosperity was given-he was almost overpowered; he rose; returned thanks in a few words: applause followedhis looks were directed towards Alice, who was seated next to him-tears came into their eyes, and she permitted him to press

her hands-they knew not how to give utterance to their thoughts, but one thing was certain-they esteemed each other-and they promised to correspond-and a few years would soon pass away

be must take great care of himself, &c. &c. At parting, be begged her acceptance of part of his library-likewise a trifling memento in a little silver box: it was a gold ring with a delicate "Forget me Not," and then they parted.

Edward proceeded to Calcutta; and Alice again to school, On his arrival at his destination, he lost no time in apprising his family and Mr. Morton, with a long descriptive letter to Alice-giving particulars of the Bay of Biscay; descriptions of the passengers-some queer-some so so, some fidgety-some spruce, &c. Of the view of Teneriffe—of crossing the line— when the farce of Father Neptune' was performed, to the terror of the young hands, and the delight of the old sailors-hot weather-salt meat-hard biscuit-unpleasantly smelly watera disagreeable vulgar Captain, as he was called, but with more propriety should be called " Master," dirty steward-greasy cook -insolent cabin boys—(who by-the-by, are apprentices, but in the first year of their servitude-confined to the important duty of male-ship-maids-where they are kicked and cuffed about by the Captain and Mate;-then go "forward; " become sailors then mates, and lastly "Captains,"-the prototypes of their old masters :) some particulars relative to St. Helena; the Cape of Good Hope; and ultimately a few particulars relative to Calcutta.

Alice, on her part, gave him sundry domestic particulars; but as with ladies in general the most unlucky part was a short postcript-and in that it required great perspicuity to discover the real feelings. The letters became more and more personally interesting; indeed Alice had now left school some time; had been brought out into the world-many had flattered and praised her; many had made those preliminary advances allowable before one commits himself. She was amiable, kind, good, and subdued : but when she found any of her admirers press their attentions, she would take her glove off her left hand, and upon her finger was to be observed Edward's "Forget me Not; "-this always had the desired effect: it seemed to her young beaux that this peculiar sort of ring denoted something: they would sayenquiringly :

"What a bijou of a ring!-some short fellow gave it you? Say?" She would reply

"Me sir; that ring was given to me "-then a sigh would escape-" by,—by,-poor Edward Percy: you knew Edward? this is my household God! my altar of memory: Forget thee! Never! tears would then steal down her cheek: she would give the ring a fixed, long look; she would raise it to her lips: but recollecting she was in company, take one more glance at it— draw her glove on, and beg a thousand pardons for not attending to the many pretty sayings that had been whispered to her. Her admirers soon perceived that her heart was not for them: and although it cost some a pang to abandon her, they admired her constancy, and as gentlemen they did not press their suit.

Her motto indeed was " In life or death I am FTDELITY' ! " for these were favourite words of Edward's-then how would she recall his conversation! every word, every idea, all that he had said and done for her, would be pictured up in her imagination and she herself wondered how she could have recollected all but there was a destined pre-disposition in his favour, as to all he might say or do; and the feeling was mutual; they were the similitudes on earth of something celestial: the universe and all its wonders-this globe and all its riches, powers and pre-eminences were nothing to them, their glory was contained in a few words: "They loved each other."

A few years rolled on; Edward had been fortunate; had reaped a good harvest, and had received orders from his father to return home, with the intimation that there would now be no difficulty in his union with Alice Morton; with advice to purchase India produce with what funds he had, and to draw upon the house, for more money if he liked. This Edward did—