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on. These tears (wiping away his own as he spoke) serve now and then to certify the existence of our humanities, which commerce with the world often half induces one to doubt."?

Derenzy continued." Assuming the mournful freedom of long intimacy, for I had loved her with all a brother's fondness, I ascended with slow and melancholy steps towards the chamber of the deceased-I reached the door of the outer room, and paused a moment for resolution to lift the latch and penetrate the sanctuary of woe-I entered softly. Alone, in one corner of the room, sat the disconsolate father : he was too much absorbed in misery to notice my approach: his head rested on his hand, his face was haggard, his eyes were fixed, and vacant, and red with watching : several times they were raised towards heaven, but speedily withdrawn as if in the first dead. lening moment of affliction, he wanted courage to seek resignation even from religion. At length his grief found words. “Oh God!” he said, “ my child, my child!" The expression broke the spell of abstracted thought : he was relieved, and tears fell plen-' tifully on the hand which I had now advanced to grasp his. He rose in silence and (the action wanted not words) led me by the hand to the inner chamber. What a sight! The elder sisters seeing me approach, sobbed aloud as it were with a renewal of their grief, and hid their faces with their hands : a little girl about four years old had crept upon the bed, and with playful action that smote upon the heart, was unconsciously endeavouring to awaken from the sleep of death, her old playmate, her favourite sister. Sweet innocent! she will play with you no more! The wretched mother's look of agony was fixed on the face of her de. parted one, where cold obstruction's apathy appalled the gazing mourner's heart;" I saw a maternal tear fall upon it, for tender ever are a mother's sorrows. She just raised her head, her eyes met mine, they fell again. She was a mother, and her all of thought and care was on a mother's loss. “I saw the iron enter into her soul!” Not a word was spoken; silence could best describe, no colouring could paint the scene. The living stood around, and silently gažed on the loveliest image, of dissolution that ever heaven formed to de.

prive death of its terrors. 'Twas a picture of tranquillity. A smile that yet played about her lips be.. spoke that her end had been placid ; blest with the. peace of innocence, and that her gentlest soul had calmly left its earthly tepement, and taken its fight in quiet expiration to the regions of eternal peace. I had no heart for consolation, which, ill timed, defeats its end: besides the scene itself was a lesson, a moni. tor. 'Twas silent death and yet 'twas eloquence. It spake aloud of life's uncertain tenure; it whispered« Be virtuous and we shall meet again!” “ Yes," my soul exclaimed inwardly, “ yes, fair spirit, we shall meet thee in happier climes, where pain and parting can assail the heart no more. Oh, may my latter end be like thine!” Impulsively at the thought I knelt beside the bed, and would have prayed. I pressed her dead hand to my lips :-'twas icy cold-my spirits sank-my heart burned within temples throbbed-1 scarcely remember how I reached my lodgings

“ I have,” he added, “ to-day been attending the orphaned family on the last mournful duties we can perform for our friends on earth. She was borne, to the grave according to her own request by her four sisters. At that part of the solemn and impressive service of the dead, where the earth was thrown on the lid of the coffin, under which lay tranced in death, the innocent form of one so loved—” he could not pursue the subject, his heart seemed to be bursting; grief for a loss so dear should find its way. Harnett. kindly shook the sensitive Derenzy by the hand, and said in a soothing manner: “ Happily my friend, bappily for us there is a consolation beyond earthly consolation :-though we shall see her face on earth no more, yet it is promised that a steady continuance in virtuous exertion, shall usher us at the last, together with her whose loss we now lament, purified from the corruption of the world, into the peaceful paradise where sorrows cannot enter.

· There death can boast no conquering power:

She'll rise a star--that fell a flower! London, February, 1819.

W.T. H.

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ONCE happy pair! in proud Bokhara's groves,
Who had not heard of their first youthful loves?
Born by that ancient flood, * which from its spring
In the Dark Nountains swiftly wandering,
Enriched by every pilgrim brook that shines
With relics from Bucharia's ruby mines,
And lending to the Caspian half its strength,
In the cold lake of Eagles sinks at length;---
There, on the banks of that bright river born,
The flowers, that hung above its wave at morn,
Bless'd not the waters as they murmur'd by,
With holier scent and lustre than the sigh
And virgin glance of first affection cast
Upon their youth's smooth current, as it pass'd!
But war disturb'd this vision--far away
From her fond eyes, summon'd to join th' array
Of Persia's warriors on the hills of Thrace,
The youth exchanged his sylvan dwelling place
For the rude tent and war-field's dreadful clash :
His Zelica's sweet glances for the flash
Of Grecian wild-fire and Love's gentle chains
For bleeding bondage on Byzantium's plains.

* The Amo0, which rises in the Belur Tag, or Dark Mountains, and running nearly from east to west, splits into two branches, one of which falls into the Caspian sea, and the other into Aral Nahr, on the Lake of Eagles.

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