take on so; my husband will buy you a surer-footed beast than Mopsy, at any market in the country, for five pounds.

"but

"Poor Charlotte!" said Emma: why did she expose herself to this torture?" The good woman stared at Emma, who declined listening to any more of her conversation; but demanding which way her cousin had walked, she hastily requested us to follow.

"How nicely this gravel walk used to be kept!" said Emma (as we walked along) "and see how it is now destroyed. These

shrubs too, so broken down by the cattle, how the good old Mr. Morley used to delight himself in taking care of them! He is gone! and, alas! how quickly are the favourite objects of his attention likely to perish-But the remembrance of his virtues shall not thus fall into oblivion.-No!" continued the lovely Moralist: "the trees he has planted may be cut down by sordid avarice; and the hand of brutish stupidity may root out the flowers of his garden; but

his deeds of benevolence and charity shall be held in everlasting remembrance !"

We were now arrived at the gate of a meadow, which was almost encircled by the stream. A narrow path winded through the plantation of young trees that ornamented its banks. At the root of one of these trees, I perceived a small bright object glittering in the rays of the sun. I approached it, and found some leaves of ivory, fastened by a silver clasp, which on touching it, flew open, and discovered the hand writing of Miss Percy. "It is Charlotte's tablets," cried Emma. "It was in these she used to sketch the effusions of her fancy, on any subject that occurred.—It is still so," continued she, turning over the leaves. "Here

is some poetry-she cannot think it any breach of faith to read it." "Read it then," said her brother.

She complied, and read as follows-

Why, shades of Morley! will you not impart
Some consolation to my grief-worn mind?
'Mid your delightful scenes, my sinking heart
Had hoped the sweets of wonted peace to find.

Dear scenes of sweet content, and careless ease,

Where in unchanging bliss the seasons roll'd,
Where Winter's storm, or Summer's genial breeze,
Could some peculiar beauty still unfold.

The charmer Hope then perch'd on every bough,
And sung of Friendship true, and Love sincere ;
While Fancy twin'd her wreath round youth's fair brow,
And Mem'ry's annals mark'd no transient tear.

But now the charmer Hope is heard no more!
Gone is my youth's lov'd friend ;-for ever gone!
The dear delusive dreams of bliss are o'er,
And all fair Fancy's airy train is flown!

Sad Mem'ry now must these lov'd haunts invade
With the dark forms of many a heart-felt grief,
With bosom'd sorrows, silent as this shade.

Sorrows from lenient Time that scorn relief.

As to each well known object Mem'ry clings,
She bids the tear of deep regret to flow;
To every former scene of bliss she brings
The throb of Anguish, and the sigh of Woe.

As she retraces every blissful hour,

Here spent with cheerful Hope, and youthful Joy, Hope lost! Joy gone for ever ;

* * * * * * * *

* *

The tears which had fallen on the remaining lines had rendered them totally

illegible. Those which suffused the blue eyes of the gentle Emma, stopt her utterance, she hastily put the tablets in her pocketand we proceeded in silence.

In a spot that was peculiarly sheltered by a row of beeches, whose leaves have now assumed the colour of the dried cinnamon, stood the remains of an arbour, which had once been covered with the most beautiful creepers this ungenial climate can produce, but which unsupported now fell upon the ground: no bad emblem of the mind of their former mistress, who sat at the entrance of the arbour, on the trunk of a fallen tree. Her countenance wore the traces of melancholy, but the manner in which she received the salutations of my friends, shewed that her heart was still capable of the most animated affection. Me too she received with kindness; though the ideas associated with my appearance gave a perceptible emotion to her already agitated spirits. She made an effort to banish the melancholy ideas which had of late been so familiar to her 24*

VOL. II.

mind; and having satisfied Emma as to the reasons that induced her to stop at Morleyfarm, she cheerfully acquiesced in her proposal of returning with us to Violet-dale, where she was received with the cordial welcome of sincere affection; and where, in the happiness of her friends, her own sorrows appear to be forgotten.

IN this Temple of domestic bliss, the flight of time has been so imperceptible, that a whole week, which has elapsed since I laid down my pen, appears but as a day.

We know that one of the fourteen precious things which were produced in the churning of the ocean, was a learned physician: but which of the sages of the tribe of Vaidya ever contrived a remedy of such approved efficacy as the conversion of a faithful and judicious friend?