"whether he go or stay with us:" for she still cherished the hope and belief that he might have it in his power to do the latter. There was an affectionate emphasis on "us," that spoke of the friendly terms on which Campbell had lived with all her friends; but the look that accompanied the word said more, for he was all-friend— parent-relative-every thing to her. This incontestible proof of devoted love, filled our young unfortunate with deep and fervent admiration, but it also gave him firmness enough to resist the noble offer. He thought, that had he accepted it, he would have proved himself unworthy of the heroic woman, who, for his sake, was ready to pledge her fortune to the last farthing, and face the cold front of poverty, while yet in the hey-day of that period of life, in which it may be emphatically said one enjoys enjoyment.

His feelings were nice, proud, and high-perhaps my readers may think too much so, and begin to doubt the sincerity of that love which, in these circumstances, could determine on agonizing the bosom of the one adored, by persisting in leaving her.

Let us not be hasty in judging; if this pride was a failing, at least it must be confessed, that it

"Leaned to virtue's side."

It would require an abler pen than mine to describe the bitterness of their last parting, and yet the latest moment was not the most painful, for the buoyant soul of Campbell had begun to cherish hope. A fearful and mysterious feeling of dread, however, succeeded the paroxysm of grief that had convulsed the frame of Jeanie. She, once the most disposed to cheer a moment of sorrow, by the sunshine of anticipated joy, seemed frozen into marble stillness by despair. She never encouraged hope-'twas well she never did; but it was different with James.

Miss White accompanied her mother, and several of her lover's valued friends to the vessel's deck. It was

unmoored, the anchor was weighed, the signal for sailing had been given, yet still the hapless Jeanie lingered on board in mute, yet speaking, speechless grief. The boat was lowered, and, as with a smile which seemed an effort, as Campbell pressed her death-cold hand to his burning and feverish lips, he, in a tone of assumed firmness and gaiety, which, in such circumstances, is to me more expressive of emotion than the most convulsive struggles, articulated-" Farewell!"

Home had now lost all its attractions in the eyes of Jeanie-nay, to think of it had become painful; for he of whom she never ceased to think, had left his home. She therefore consented with-pleasure, I had almost said, but to that emotion she had become callous-resignation, then, that was the feeling, to spend the summer in the country; whither she proceeded, to the house of a relation. The sorrow which is felt on first leaving the land of our birth, and being, as it were, launched on the stream of life, but without the rudder of experience, or the guidance of friendship, is the only feeling that approaches the undying misery that springs from blighted love. Has not a portion of my readers eagerly followed the vessel that, as in mirthful derision, gaily and fleetly bounded across the wave? "The wheels," says a Spanish proverb, run smoothly on the road to destruction." The breeze, I may add, from sad experience, often blows favourable when the haven is the tomb.

James saw the new world, but his feet never trod another soil than that of Scotia, though his remains lie in a foreign grave. It was the rainy season when he arrived at Demerara. The pestilence had ceased its ravages on shore, only to carry them with increased terror among the hardy seamen of the shipping in the river. It spread, as it were, its baleful wings, and advanced with open arms to clasp our devoted wanderer with horrible embrace! In perfect health on Tuesday-he was a denizen of another, and, I feel assured, to him, a better

world on Thursday. His sufferings were intense, but they were brief. His last thoughts were of Jeanie-the last articulate sound that escaped him was an attempt to utter her much loved name.

The very same vessel which bore him from his love, brought back to her the tidings of his death. Dissolution, under whatever form, is indeed a fearful thing; but, ah! the death of our nearest and our dearest is dreadful, when it happens in a foreign clime, when its occurrence is announced to us, not by the long-drawn sigh and the stilly repose that follows it, which tells us that the struggle is over, and that peace and tranquillity have succeeded to suffering and pain; but by the voice of an uninterested messenger, or the still more cheerless and desolate, because silent, and, in itself, unsympathising medium of a letter, tranquilly, and, to us how horrible! perhaps carefully written, trimly folded, and neatly sealed with the dismal herald of despair! She had not hopedshe was not disappointed; but the cup of her desolation was full, and she quaffed it to the dregs. A calmness which surprised those who had not carefully marked her conduct from the departure of Campbell, held over her its sombre and unbroken sway-like the unagitated air of a charnel vault-from the moment she heard of the consummation of her forebodings and her fears.

I saw her lately-she scarcely recognised me. Her features have lost their glow of beauty, yet they are lovely still!—her blue eye is sunken and lustreless; and I can see, though her fond mother cannot, that her now delicate frame is unable long to support the mental throes that agitate it. Her foot approaches the grave, and consumption is gently leading the once vivacious and mirthful Jeanie White, with touching and beautiful solemnity, towards its precincts-gentle be her descent, and dreamless her last long angel-like repose!

The latest of mundane objects upon which her speaking eye will rest, will be a keepsake from her beloved and

hapless James.

She asked it from him before his departure, and she has never trusted it from her sight since then-no, nor will she ever.

The catastrophe is almost complete-the narrative concluded. She breathes-yet lives not but to the memory of her Jamie and to her God.

CROSS READING S.

BY HORACE SMITH, ESQ.

TALKING of incongruities puts me in mind of the steamboat, and of a conversation between two parties, one conversing of their children, the other settling the ingredients of a wedding-dinner, whose joint colloquies, as I sat between them, fell upon my ear in the following detached sentences:- —“ Thank Heaven! my Sally is blessed

-with a calf's head, and a pig's face."—" Well, if I should have another baby, I shall have it immediately

My

-skinned and cut into thin slices."-" I do love to see little Tommy well dressed- -in the fish kettle, over a charcoal fire."-"To behold the little dears dancing before one- -in the frying-pan. "" "And to hear their innocent tongues -bubble and squeak."eldest girl is accomplished-with plenty of sauce.""I always see the young folks put to bed myselfsmothered in onions."-" And if they have been very good children, I invariably order- -the heart to be stuffed and roasted, the gizzard to be peppered and devilled, and the sole to be fried."

-and

STANZAS TO ***

I loved thee long; I love thee now
In agony and gloom,

Whilst others, with unruffled brow,
Pass by thy silent tomb.

It was enough to see thee near,
And I was happy then.

The dream soon fled, thy marriage broke
The visionary spell;
No tear I shed, no word I spoke,
My secret grief to tell.

I hate the wretch who set the seal
Of death upon thy brow;

I hate the wretch who could not feel
The tears he caused to flow.

I saw from that fair cheek, through him,
The colour pass away;

I saw that beaming eye grow dim
In slow but sure decay.

Oh! 'tis a sad and fearful thing
To watch the fading flower,
To see it even in youth's first spring,
Grow weaker every hour.

And years have passed-and they forget,
Forget that you are gone;

Though time hath banished their regret,
One breaking heart loves on.

STORY OF ZERLINA.
BY THE HON. W. WARD.

ZERLINA was the daughter and sister of the Staroste Zerlinski. Her mother was English, and a Mordaunt ; hence her pretty English tongue. And as Miss Mordaunt had travelled much in Italy for her health, hence Zerlina's Italian name. The family settled some time at Bagnieres, the Bath of the Pyrenees, to which people of all nations flocked; and here the match took place between Miss Mordaunt and the Staroste Zerlinski, and here Zerlina was born. Afterwards they went to Poland with a Pyrenean nurse, of whom hereafter.

All was happy for some years; till those miseries arose,