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of executor and heir gave all necessary orders. By his direction the old gentleman was buried with due solemnity, pomp, and decorum. On the day of the funeral he again repaired to the old mansion, and very coolly and deliberately went into his father's room, opened his wardrobe, took out a pair of his black stockings, put them on, and wore them to follow him to the grave.

Who among my Shortly after he came to see my mother, who had been his father's very intimate friend for more than half a century, and had known him from his childhood. When he entered the room he held out his hand, burst into tears, and was unable to speak.

readers could have done so ?

It may, perhaps, be observed in excuse for his first dereliction, that affection does not ascend in the fond proportion of its descent: that had the case been opposite, the father could not so have followed his son. Mayhap not. But what makes even that doubtful is, that a lady of my acquaintance in Nottinghamshire, who had always appeared to be an affectionate and fond mother, soon after she became a widow lost one of her sons, a fine young man under thirty years of age. All friendly inquiries at that distressing moment were answered with the customary re

How

ply, she is as well as can be expected. a mother is expected to be under such affliction, must be rated by the feelings of the inquirer. In the present instance, my Nottinghamshire friend, in the course of the family mourning for the young man, took one of his old black coats to` alter into a coat of livery mourning for her foot

man.

The tenderness of a son for his parent, and that of a mother for her child, are two of the strongest ties of affection in nature; and may be supposed to partake not only of the powerful love which in the one produces endearing respect, and in the other rapturous pride; but to intermix with all the little delicate minutiae of Sensibility, which may almost be said to make every thing which once belonged to the beloved dead a sacred relic: and which sanctify local and possessive attachments. Yet, as the two above recited facts contradict such a supposition, it may be that the deep and expansive stream of parental and filial love absorbs and overwhelms all lesser feelings, as the salinous subduing power of the mighty ocean destroys the softness of the rivulet: in which case, Sensibility must be confined within the limits of that meaning which I have assigned it.

A meaning which, to be duly appreciated, requires to be experimentally understood.

The rich, the great, the powerful, rarely by experience find its meaning out, because the patronage which their riches and their rank procure them, calls for the ready meeting, the ready smile, the ready approbation; and as no eye penetrates the recesses of the heart, those elevated by riches, greatness, or power, cannot discover how little they are, sometimes, either respected or beloved. The poor, the lowly, the weak, are daily exposed to acknowledge the painful part of my definition : an acknowledgment aggravated by the scoff of those who not only revile them, but the Sensibility which they wound. Yea,

Oft have revilers laugh'd to scorn thy soft,

Thy gentle spirit, Sensibility!

Ah! little do they know the tender joy
Which thou from trifles canst produce; and less
How sad, how deep, how poignant, how severe
The wound, when from th' averted eye, or slight
Regard the proffer'd hand of friendship drops,
Unconscious of the pressure which it sought:
Or, when the ties of kindred are disown'd,
And those, who from one stock derive their life,
Unkindly turn away! -I would not change
The heart which bleeds at griefs like these, for all

The boasted apathy of fortitude:

Nor the keen agony of sufferance

For the patient, calm, unfeeling quiet,
Falsely call'd resignation-when Florio,

Whom the schools have prais'd, whose youth was guided

By the hand of honor, whose ripen'd age

Speaks wisdom's lore, receives not from the world
The due respect; when from him with disdain
Turn fortune's abject minions, to pay court
Where, deck'd in all the splendour of parade,
The sycophants of pow'r display their pomp ;
Say, would you check the honest tear which starts
Unbidden to his eye? Would you repress

His indignation?

-No!-No, not for worlds! Then would he forget his own respect; and, no longer, Glowing with pure warmth, attend to virtue.

THE FALL OF SNOW.

ABOUT thirty-five years ago, a person who was rider to a large house of business in London, was overtaken on the road between Ross and Hereford, in the dusk of evening during the dreary month of December, by such a violent storm, that it became impossible for him to pursue his journey. He was almost frozen on his horse, and the wind blew the snow in large flakes directly in his face. In this forlorn situation he made toward a light which glimmered at a distance from the high road, and at the bottom of a bye lane he found a poor little cottage, at the door of which he knocked, somewhat impetuously, for admission. "Who is there?" said the tremulous voice of a female. "A distressed traveller, who asks shelter from the storm."

All the stories of impostors and thieves, which she had ever heard, rushed to the recollection of