When the rebel troops were retreating after their total defeat, in that very wood, I was so fond of, a young officer, unable any longer to endure the anguish of his wounds, sunk from his horse, and laid himself down to die. He was found there by the daughter of Sir Henry R, and conveyed by a trusty domestic to her father's mansion. Sir Henry was a loyalist; but the officer's desperate condition excited his compassion, and his many wounds spoke a language a brave man could not misunderstand. Sir Henry's daughter with many tears pleaded for him, and pronounced that he should be carefully and secretly attended. And well she kept that promise, for she waited upon him (her mother being long dead) for many weeks, and anxiously watched for the first opening of his eyes, that, languid as he was, looked brightly and gratefully upon his young nurse.

You may fancy better than I can tell you, as he slowly recovered, all the moments that were spent in reading, and low-voiced singing, and gentle playing on the lute, and how many fresh flowers were brought to one whose wounded limbs would not bear him to gather them for himself, and how calmly the days glided on in the blessedness of returning health, and in that sweet silence so carefully enjoined him. I will pass by this to speak of one day, which, brighter and pleasanter than others, did not seem more bright or more lovely than the looks of the young maiden, as she gaily spoke of a "little festival which (though it must bear an unworthier name) she meant really to give in honour of her guest's recovery;"" and it is time, lady," said he, " for that guest so tended and so honoured, to tell you his whole story, and speak to you of one who will help him to thank you: may I ask you, fair lady, to write a little billet for me, which even in these times of danger I may find some means to forward ?" To his mother, no doubt, she thought, as with light steps and a lighter heart she seated herself by his couch, and smilingly bade him dictate; but, when he said " my dear wife," and lifted up his eyes to be asked for more, he saw before him a pale statue, that gave him one look of utter despair, and fell, for he had no power to help her, heavily at his feet. Those eyes never truly reflected the pure soul again, or by answering the fond enquiries of her poor old father. She lived to be as I saw her,-sweet and gentle, and delicate always; but reason returned no more. She visited till the

day of her death the spot where she first saw that young soldier, and dressed herself in the very clothes that he said so well became her.

GHOST STORY.

(From WILLIAM of MALMESBURY.)

THE following Ghost Story must be known in some shape or another to the most of our readers. But not many, perhaps, are aware how long it has been upon record. The following are the words, a little abridged, of William of Malmesbury, written in the 12th century, of the reign of William the Conqueror.

"There were in that city (Nantes) two ecclesiastics, ordained, ere their years allowed, to be priests, the bishop yielding the same rather to favour than to desert of a fair life; at last, the woeful ending of the one instructed the survivor how their road went sheer to hell. But so far as the science of letters they were excellently taught, and from very tender infancy so joined in pleasant friendship, that they would have adventured peril of life for one another. Wherefore one day, in more than wonted overflowing of mind, they thus secretly spake :-That for many years they, now in study of letters, now in worldly cares, had exercised their minds, and had found no satisfaction, intent rather amiss than aright. Meanwhile the day draweth on which shall sever their loves; wherefore they should prevent this, and provide that the same faith which had joined them living, go with the first dying unto the kingdom of the dead. They compact therefore, that whichsoever shall first depart, shall certainly, within thirty days, appear to the survivor, waking or sleeping, and declare to him if it be as the Platonists hold, that death extinguisheth not the mind, but restores it as released out of prison, unto its origin, God; if not, then must faith be given to the sect of the Epicureans, who believe that the soul, loosed from the body, vanisheth into air. To this was their faith plighted, and in their daily discourses the same oath oftentimes renewed; nor was it long before death suddenly taketh one of them away. The other remained, and thought with much seriousness of the promise, expecting momently that his friend shall come during the thirty days;

6

which being spent, giving up his hope, he turneth himself to other business, when suddenly the other stood beside him, being awake, and going about some work, pale, and with a countenance such as is of the dying while the spirit passeth away. Then the dead first accosts the living, who spake not-knowest thou me?' he said. I know thee,' he made answer; and I am not troubled at thy unwonted presence so much, as I am in wonder of thy long absence.' But he having excused his delay- At last,' said he, I come; and my coming, if thou wilt, dear friend, shall be profitable to thee; but to me utterly fruitless, whose sentence is pronounced into eternal punishment.' And when the living man for redemption of the dead, would promise to bestow all his substance on monasteries, and on the poor, and himself to spend nights and days in fastings and prayers," It is fixed,' quoth he, ' that I have said; for the judgments of God are without repenting, by which I am plunged into the sulphureous gulph of hell. My doom is everlasting-my pains eternal and innumerable, though all the whole world should seek remedy. And that thou mayest understand something of my infinite sufferings,' stretching out his hand, distilling with an ulcerous sore; lo!' he said, 'one of the least; doth it seem to thee light?' And the other replying that it seemed to him light, he, bending his fingers, cast three drops upon him of that trickling gore; whereof two touching the temples, and one the forehead, entered skin and flesh as with fiery cautery, making wounds that might hold a nut. He by a cry testifying the greatness of the anguish. This,' said the dead, shall be to thee, as long as thou shalt live, an admonishment of my great punishment; and, if thou slight it not, of thy own deliverance.' He then enjoined him (as the historian goes on to relate) to proceed forthwith to Rennes, and there to take the habit of a monk under the holy Melanius. And the other appearing still to hesitate, the dead, cum oculi vigore perstringens, bade him, if he doubted, to read these letters; and opening his hand, showed him written on it thanks, addressed by Satan and his whole crew, to every ecclesiastial society (cœtui); because they neglected nothing of their own pleasures, and suffered such numbers of souls to go down to hell, through the decay of preaching, as former ages had never beheld. The sinner was overcome-distributed all his property to churches and the poor-took the

6

6

habit under St. Melanius-and became an eminent example to all, not only of a wonderful conversion, but of a holy conversation to the end of life."

CLITOPHON AND LEUCIPPE.

(Resumed from page 150.)

As soon as I had passed the centinel, who supposed me to be his mistress, we turned into a more distant part of the house, and came to an unfrequented postern, where the youth, appointed by Melite, received me.

But fortune was again unfavourable to my views-for Thersander, who had been supping with a friend, met me at the entrance. Sosthenes, who accompanied him, knew me immediately, and exclaimed," Behold the insolent adulterer, triumphing in guilt, dressed too in your wife's apparel." The youth, who went first, fled at the words, and they immediately seized upon me. Thersander raised such an outcry, that he soon brought to his side an immense mob: (for it happened to be the feast of Diana, and a great number of persons were about the streets.) He then vilified me with the names of adulterer and robber, and at last cast me into prison and brought a charge of adultery against me. Before this, Sosthenes, burning for revenge against Melite, had fired Thersander with a description of Leucippe; and so worked upon his passions as to induce him to consent to her seizure. With this intent, Sosthenes went to the house where she resided, about a mile from the city and having taken four assistants with him, he commanded two of them to draw off the attention of her maids, who were walking with her in the garden, and with the other two he seized upon Leucippe, and bore her off to a small house prepared for her reception. He returned immediately to Thersander, and told him what he had done, and persuaded him to visit her at night. It was just at the time when they were setting out for this purpose, that I so unfortunately met them. As soon as Thersander had cast me into prison, he hurried with Sosthenes to Leucippe; when he entered the house, he found her on the ground absorbed in grief. Her tears gave her new charms in the eyes of Thersander, who was struck with astonishment at her beauty. He was for some time lost in silent admira

tion, during which Leucippe kept her eyes fixed on the earth. At last he exclaimed, "Wilt thou still veil those beauteous eyes? Oh! rather raise from the earth their lustre upon me!" Tears were her only answer. Her grief at length excited some pity in Thersander, he turned to Sosthenes, and bade him give her what consolation was in his power; and said that he would now retire, as he saw that his presence was irksome, but would return when she was more recovered. Then giving Sosthenes private instructions to speak to her in his favour, and return to him on the morrow, he departed. In the mean time, Melite sent a messenger to Leucippe, to tell her to return. When he came to the house, he found the domestics in the utmost alarm at her sudden disappearance. He returned immediately to Melite, who had just received notice of my imprisonment, and told her what had happened. She was puzzled to find out the cause of this, but suspected that it originated with Sosthenes. She then determined to have a public search made for Leucippe, and framed a story for Thersander, in which truth was cunningly coloured with falsehood.

When Thersander came home, he exclaimed to his wife, "Why do you not follow your adulterous paramour, whom you have freed from bondage and sent from his prison. Go, go to your infamous lover, and see him bound with stronger chains." 66 Whom," said Melite, "do you call an adulterer?" If you will patiently listen to me, you will hear the real truth. I only ask you to banish all prejudice from your mind, to forget the calumnies you have heard, and hear me with temper. This young man is neither an adulterer nor my husband, but a Phoenician by birth, and one of the principal inhabitants of Tyre. Having heard that he had lost the whole of his property by shipwrick, I commisserated his misfortunes. Tenderly remembering your unhappy fate, I offered him an asylum in my house, thinking with myself that perhaps my Thersander's lot was similar. It was

out of respect for you that I honoured him thus, for your fates were similar. Thus I received him into my house. In addition to this, he was mourning the death of his wife, but afterwards he heard that she was alive and in this town. This information was given him by Sosthenes-we arrived here and found her. This then was the reason why he followed me.

You have Sosthenes with you, the woman is