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the horses were putting to my carriage, at the third stage of my journey, a chaise drove up to the Inn. From it alighted a gentleman—but, O ye Gods of my fathers! what was my surprize, on beholding, in this gentlemen, my former guest Mr. Denbeigh, the friend of Piercy! He, Who had at Chunar, loaded me with so many marks of kindness and affection! Soon as the flutter of spirits which always accompanies an unexpected meeting, was a little subsided, he took from his port-folio a packet, on which I soon 'recognizedthe hand-writing of Maandaara. How did my heart beat at the fight! I tear open the seals.—I read. I hear of the welfare of my friend, of the health of my child. Ah! my son! my son! What tender emotions does the' mention of thy name raise in my bosom! When shall the soft cheek of my child, be patted by his father's hand? When shall my ears be gratified by the delicious music of my darling's gentle voice? Detested spirit of curiosity! too long have I sacrificed to thee the truest, sweetest joys, that gem the period of existence!

My heart is too full to proceed. May He, who is Lord of the Keepers of the eight corners of the World, preserve thee! May the adored wife of Veemnu be the friend of my child!!

Deubeigh, at the time I met him, was on his way to the place of his nativity. He requested me to accompany him to his father's house; and found in me no disposition to reject a proposal so agreeable to my inclination. We proceeded together in the fame carriage. Conversed of India—of ourfriends at Calcutta :—talked of all the little incidents that bad occurred during my residence in that city; the most trivial of which, appeared interesting to the memory, on account of the pleasing ideas with which it was associated. Swiftly flew the wheels of our chariot, but more swiftly flew the rolling hours, which were occupied by this fort of conversation.

About noon, on the second day of our journey, we, by the direction of Denbeigh, struck into a narrow bye-road, which following the course of a clear stream, winded through the midst of a narrow valley. As we entered upon this road, the agitation of my companion became apparent. Every object that we passed, caused his heart to heave with tender emotion. In every shrub he recognized an old acquaintance, and in every tree he seemed to discover a long lost friend. "Let us stop here," said he, at a turn of the road: " the bridge for carriages is half a mile off, but I can Vol. II. I

take you a nearer way." So saying, he ,* leaped out of the carriage, and I followed his example. My fiiend surveyed the lcene around, and the soft tear of delight glistened in his eyes. "There," said he, "stands the old thorn, which, at the close of evening, I used to pass with such hasty steps, not daring to look behind, from tenor of the fairies, who were said to hold tlieir nightly revels beneath its boughs. Ah! there is the wood, whose filberts were so tempting. There the pool, where 1 first ventured to beat the wave with my feeble arm. On the outstretched branch of yonder beech, was suspended the swing, in which I have so.ofien tolled my little sisters, ho, half pleased and half afraid, squalled and laughed by turns, as they were made to fly through the yielding air."

We had now reached a little rustic gate leading into an orchard, in one of the broad walks of which, we beheld an aged pair, enjoying the smiles of the meridian Sun. A little boy and girl sported beside them, joyousty picking up the apples, that lay hidden in the grafs.

Our approach was at length perceived. The old gentleman paused, and leaning on !.i3 itaff', endeavoured to recognize !/.=. The emotion of Denbeigh encreas

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ed.—He bounded forward—and taking a hand of each—while the bursting sensations of his heart choaked his utterance—gazed for a moment on the revered faces of his parents, and in the next, was in their arms. His poor mother could not, for a few minutes, reconcile herself to the darkness of his complexion, which fourteen years spent beneath the lustre of an Indian sky had changed from the fair led and white, such as now adorns the face of his little nephew, to the deep brown shade, that marks the European Asiatic. The good Lady gently pushed him from her, to examine more minutely the features whose more delicate lines were engraven en hei memory. He smiled.—In that smile, she recognized the peculiar expresiion of her darling's face, and fondly pressed him to her maternal bosom.

During this scene, I stood a sijent and unobserved spectator; nor was it till after a considerable length of time, that Denbeigh sufficiently recollected himself to introduce me to his parents. To be called the friend of their son, ensured my welcome; but, that I might not be any restraint on their conversation, I attached myself to the little folks, to whom Uncle Henry was no more than any other stranger.

A' we approached the house, I observed, at an open window which fronts the orchard, a lovely girl, who seemed to view the party with a greater degree of interest, than curiosity alone could possibly inspire. Twice she came to the door, and twice returned irresolute. At length, ihe was observed by one of my little companions, who running towards her, called out, Uncle Henry is come! Uncle Henry is come! the words gave wings to her willing feet, she flew down the walk, and in a minute her beauteous face was hid in the bosom of her brother.

The shrill voice of my little friend, had reached farther than the parlour. By the time we entered the Hall, the servants were assembled.—The old nurse was the first who pressed forward to salute the stranger—by whom she was received with the kindness due to her affection and fidelity. Two other domestic companions of his youth still remained in the family: tears spoke the sincerity of the many welcomes they bestowed on the traveller; while the hearty good-will with which he received their salutations, gave a convincing proof, that neither time nor distance ha J changed the dispositions of las heart.

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