wantonly and unthinkingly inflicted the wound which doomed both their parents to an untimely death.

Young Mrs. Williams was inconsolable at the loss of her father. To divert her grief, Edward made frequent excursions with her to the surrounding country. He, one day, took her to the fair at B. where he had been, several years before, when his mind was very differently disposed. On their arriving at the cross-road, where he had purposely given a wrong direction to a traveller, Edward for the first time upbraided himself with that untruth; and he was on the point of relating the circumstance to his afflicted consort, but a sense of shame restrained his avowal.

After having visited the fair, and been much amused with the crowds of idle spectators, and numerous buyers and sellers, and with the variety of shops and stalls exhibiting wares of all kinds, more or less tastefully displayed, they dined with the company at the best inn, where some ingenious trifles were handed about for sale by the waiters, in behalf of a few itinerant chapmen in whose success they felt interested. Among others, they offered several pretty paper baskets. Edward examined them with particular attention; they reminded him of Anthony Stevens,

the companion of his childhood, who was very clever in Papyroplastics, and generally devoted part of the long winter evenings to modelling in paper, in which he displayed uncommon ingenuity." Who makes these baskets?" asked Edward of one of the waiters." The man who is standing yonder, near the door," was the reply; "he is a young sailor, and lost both legs in battle." And on turning his eyes towards the door, Edward instantly recognised his long lost friend Anthony. He ran to him, and, to the great astonishment of the young invalid and of the spectators, he affectionately closed him in his arms. But Anthony's surprise soon subsided. Edward's features were too deeply engraved in his memory; he no sooner recognised him, than he pushed him back with horror. Edward's joy, however, was so unfeigned; his regrets at the injury he had done him appeared so sincere; he lamented the wrongs which he had inflicted, and their calamitous consequences, with so much energy and apparent truth; that Anthony was at length softened, and consented to follow Edward into a private room, where he related the history of his misfortunes. "It is but short," said Anthony: "when the abominable falsehood, which you told of me to your mother, drove me from

your excellent father's house, I wandered for some days in the neighbourhood of the town. Want at last forced me to enter a King's ship. I have fought in three engagements, and you see," pointing to his wooden legs, "how I have bled for my country in the last battle!" Edward felt his heart oppressed with grief at this recital. "I will repair my wrongs, as much as I can," said he with tears in his eyes. Anthony once more pointed to his wooden legs. "Stay with me," continued Edward; "be my brother, as formerly, and share all I have." The poor invalid, trusting to his sincerity, accepted his offers: but Edward, though firmly resolved to make him as comfortable as possible, could not restore his lost limbs.

The next day, Mr. and Mrs. Williams employed an hour or two before their departure in seeing the principal curiosities of the town. There was, among others, an excellent infirmary, which they visited. They went through the different wards, of which they praised the cleanliness and arrangement, and left in each some tokens of their beneficence. They then proceeded to that wing of the hospital where poor blind children were instructed in different manual occupations; and, in returning from thence,

through another court, Mrs. Williams perceived in a room, the door of which was left half opened, a handsome female, with dishevelled hair, which she carefully braided in plaits, but undoing it as fast as she had braided it, to begin braiding anew. Struck with her beauty and her apparent distressed situation, Edward inquired who that person was. “She is mad,” was the answer. Mrs. Williams, frightened beyond measure, pulled her husband back, in order to hasten from this scene of distress. Their conductor assured them that they had nothing to fear; that the poor maniac had indeed been subject to fits of violent rage; but that she was grown as gentle as a child, since she had a friend near her. individual?" asked Edward.

"And who is that "Walk in," replied

the conductor, "and you will hear a tale of woe as lamentable as it is interesting." They beheld, in a corner, a man of a pale countenance, with hollow staring eyes looking down to the ground. "Is he also mad ?" said Edward, in a low voice, to the keeper. "Oh! no. He is only deeply distressed. He stays here merely to wait upon her, who is less unfortunate, since she is ignorant of her deplorable situation." Mrs. Williams, less afraid than at first, ventured to approach the beautiful sufferer, and gently inquired what she

was doing? The maniac answered, with a painful smile: "I am dressing myself, to receive my friend; he is to arrive this day." This answer stimulated Mrs. Williams's curiosity. She anxiously wished to know more about the unfortunate female; and the keeper said that the gentleman who attended upon her readily told her misfortunes to persons who shewed some interest in her sad fate. Edward, therefore, went up to him, and requested him to gratify the pardonable curiosity of Mrs. Williams, who was moved to tears by their sorrows. The stranger looked sternly at him; but he could not resist the sympathy which shone through Mrs. Williams's tears.

"My father," he said, “was a manufacturer of this place. He lost my mother soon after I was born; and, being still in the prime of life, he determined to contract a second marriage. He paid his addresses to an interesting young person, whose affections he had the good fortune to gain. But she was under the guardianship of an old uncle, who, having taken a dislike to my father, on account of some trifling altercation on commercial affairs, refused his consent. For more than twelve months, they tried every possible means of subduing his opposition; but in vain. Yet, as the period was fast approaching when the