mation. Edmund followed his father into the hall with a heart palpitating with affectionate apprehension. They went into the parlour, where, in a few moments, Maria and Harriet came to meet them. The paleness and evident affliction of the young ladies terrified their father, who articulated, with extreme difficulty, and in a voice almost stifled by emotion, "How is your mother?" Ah, Sir!" said Maria, in a querulous tone," she is, I fear ——" Sobs interrupted articulation, but tears brought a friendly "This morning," continued she, "Dr.

relief.

66

my

L paid his regular visit; he seemed much alarmed at the state in which he found mother, and appeared to consider her recovery hopeless. He ordered no medicine; but I pèrsuaded my dear parent to take a little warm whey, and about four hours ago she sunk into a deep sleep, from which she has not yet waked, and perhaps it may prove salutary." "O heaven grant that it may!" cried Edmund, kneeling down on the floor, and with upraised eyes and hands, while the tears trickled down his cheeks, he solemnly ejaculated, "Most merciful BEING of Beings, bless and restore, I beseech Thee, my parent to her friends! that mother whom I ever loved, but whose sacred life I have unwittingly endangered!" Mr. Vere raised his son, pressed his hand, and sitting down on a sofa

beside him, they gave full vent to their mournful feelings by an effusion of tears, while the young ladies hastened up stairs to be in attendance upon their mother.

In less than half an hour a female servant came to inform the gentlemen that her mistress was awake, and expected to see them. Edmund started up, and followed his father. They entered the chamber, where Mrs. Vere, supported by her daughters, sat up in the bed. On their approach she held out her hands, and with a look of ineffable benignity, and tender affection, said, in a low voice," My prayers have been heard, I am permitted to see my dearest friends again.” She paused. Mr. Vere held her right hand, and Edmund her left, while they bent tenderly over her. What a change had ten days made in the appearance of this excellent woman! She was only in her fortieth year, and admired by her friends and acquaintance for the beauty of her person, and the amiableness of her disposition. But the vermeil bloom of health which lately adorned her cheek, gave place to the faded hue of the withered rose; her eyes, which beamed with the animation of health, and the beauty of sentiment, were now hollow, yet they still glistened with the light of sensibility; her features were shrunk, and the expression of her pallid countenance was that of extreme debility. Mr. Vere gazed on the ruins of his Mary with

grief and tenderness---he would have spoken, but a solemn awe interrupted the speech of all present, except the dying saint.

home," said she;

my

"You are both welcome last wish is gratified by your presence. My departure will now be a triumph. My ever faithful and tender husband, bow with resignation, as I do, to the will of our GOD---for our daughters, I have no fear--they are both amiable and pious, and as such are under the particular protection of OMNIPOTENCE-Our Edmund too, restored to honour, reputation, and society, will, I trust, be preserved from future evil. My dear Edmund," continued she, turning her eyes towards her son, "your return in safety has realized my hope-beware of evil communications; read your bible; let it ever be your guide, and you will be happy for ever---I now have done with life---yet these earthly ties" said she, in a voice attuned by tenderness, while she gazed alternately on her husband and son" the heart feels a pang at parting with those we love"-She paused -feebly pressed the hands which held hers--then sunk down in the arms of her daughters, and with a deep sigh expired, while her happy spirit soared to the blissful regions of immortality. But what pen could describe the scene which ensued, or the grief of the survivors ? * *

FREE STRICTURES

ON

ENGLISH LITERATURE.

Dans l'art d'interesser consiste l'art d'écrire. DELILLE.

If we estimate the intellectual powers of a people by their literary productions, those of the English will be found of the first order, and entitled to pre-eminence. Beautiful specimens of style and composition, on every subject which can gratify the curiosity, improve the knowledge, or polish the manners of a human being, may be found in our language; and we can produce the works of native philosophers, poets, and historians, unequalled by those of the literati of any other nation either ancient or modern. For this peculiar excellence in the brightest emanations of the mind, we are principally indebted to the Reformation, which first set the inquiring spirit of man free, and erected that powerful organ of knowledge, the Press. Science and taste, offered their powerful aid to truth; the valuable facts, discovered and recorded by the experimen

tal philosopher, were adorned with the graces of poetical and prosaic composition, and wisdom and beauty were united by reason.

We have now the treasures of ancient and modern literature in our native language, for several of our ingenious and learned men have, by spirited and elegant translations of the ancient classics, and of the valuable works of Continental writers, enriched the English library with the wisdom of all ages; and thus, in the true spirit of universal benevolence, imported whatever was rare, elegant, or beautiful in foreign languages, and exported their own original productions, to instruct and enlighten the comparatively uninformed and superstitious nations of Christendom, nay, of every part of the habitable globe. The English reader may now obtain from the works and translations of his countrymen, sufficient information for every purpose of utility or entertainment; and this communicable facility, has contributed to a general taste for literature, and the consequent increase of books in this opulent country; insomuch, that a library is now considered as indispensable in a magnificent mansion, as any other kind of ornamental and costly furniture. Nor is this love of knowledge confined to the opulent, for many industrious tradesmen, and ingenious artisans, expend that money in the purchase of books which their more impro