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love. Emma's religious thoughts had long been of an almost dark and awful character, and she was possessed by a deep sense of her own utter unworthiness in the sight of God. It was feared, that, as her end drew near, and her mind was weakened by continual suffering, her last hours might be visited with visions too trying and terrible; but the reverse was the case, and it seemed as if God, to reward a life of meekness, humility, and wisdom, removed all fear from her soul, and showed her the loving, rather than the awful mysteries of the Redeemer. On her dead face there sat a smile, just as pleasant and serene as that which had lighted the countenance of Caroline, when she fell asleep for ever with the lilies in her hand. The old nurse, who had been with them from their infancy, alone observed that she had expired, for there had been no sigh, and the pale emaciated fingers moved not as they lay clasped together across her breast.

Louisa, the eldest, was now left alone, and although her health had always been the most delicate, there seemed, from some of the symptoms, a slight hope that she might yet recover. That fatal hectic flash did not stain her cheeks; and her pulse, although very faint, had not the irregularity of alarming fever. But there are secrets known but to the dying themselves; and all -the encouraging kindness of friends was received by her as sweet proofs of affection, but never once touched her heart with hope. The disease, of which both her sisters had died, was in the blood of her father's family, and she never rose up froin her bed, or her couch, or the gray osier seat in the sunny garden, without feeling a death-like lassitude, that could not long endure. Indeed, she yearned for the grave; and hers was a weariness that could only find entire relief in the perfect stillness of that narrow house.

Had Lonisa not felt death within her bosom, there were circumstances that could not have failed to make her desire life, even after her mother and sisters had been taken away. For she had been betrothed, for a

year past, to òne who would have made hier happy. He received an account of the alarming state of the sisters at Pisa, whither he had gone for the establishment of his own health, and he instantly hurried home to Scotland. Caroline and Emma were in their graves; but he had the mournful satisfaction to be with his own Louisa in her last days. Much did he, at first, press her to go to Italy, as a faint and forlorn hope; but he soon desisted from such vain persuasions. “The thought is sweet to lay our bones within the bosom of our native soil. The verdure and the flowers I loved will brighten around my grave,—the same trees whose pleasant murmurs cheered my living ear, will hang their cool shadows over my dust; and the eyes that met mine in the light of affection, will shed tears over the sod that covers me, keeping my memory green within their spirits !' He who had been her lover,—but was now the friend and brother of her soul, had 'nothing to say in reply to these natural sentiments. “After all they are but fancies, Henry; but they cling to the heart from which they sprung, -and to be buried in the sweet churchyard of Blantyre, is now a thought most pleasant to my soul."

In dry summer weather, a clear rivulet imperceptibly shrinks away from its sandy bed, till on some morning we miss the gleam and the murmur altogether, and find the little channel dry. Just in this way was Louisa wasting, and so was her life pure and beautiful to the last. The day before she died, she requested, in a voice that could not be denied, that her brother would take her into the churchyard, that she might see the graves of her mother and sisters all lying together, and the spot whose daisies were soon to be disturbed. She was carried thither in the sunshine, on her sick-chair, for the distance was only a very few hundred yards; and her attendants having withdrawn, she surveyed the graves with a beaning countenance, in presence of her weeping friends." Methinks,” said she, “I hear a hymn, and children singing in the church ! No-no-it is only the remembered sound of the psalm I heard the

last Sabbath. I had strength to go then. Oh! sweet was it now, as the reality itself!” He who was to have been her husband was wholly overcome, and hid his face in despair. “I go, my beloved, to that holy place, where there is neither marrying nor giving in marriage, —but we shall meet there, purified from every earthly stain. Dry up your tears, and weep no more. Kiss Oh kiss me once before I die!" He stooped down; and she had just strength to put her arms around his neck, when, with a long sigh, -she expired.



This is perhaps the most important hour in the busy twelve. People may refrain from walking, talking, reading, and writing; but it is logically clear that they cannot refrain from dining; and it is equally clear, that the usance of modern times has appointed five o'clock exclusively for that necessary and important occupation. Five o'clock! the very breath that pronounces it smells of savoury mouthfuls-hashed, boiled, and roasted dishes—and blows heavily, as though it were laden with all good things. Now is the hour for general and active employment. Persons that are torpid, like toads in their holes, through every hour of the day, start into sudden activity at the first symptoms and annunciation of dinner. “ The road through the stomach's the way to the heart," sings or rather shouts an eminent modern poet, and a great judge of such matters ; and it would be heretical in us to dispute the truth of his assertions. What bustling, what crowds in the streets ! Dandies rigged out with effeminate primness, old gentlemen tenacious in the wear of the last century's apparel, mingle promiscuously in the grand moving mass that pay their devoirs as he church bell tolls out its quintuple repercussions. You

may actually smell five o'clock in the streets; for at that time arises on every side the fragrance of stews, the exquisite odours of ragoût, and the unaccominodating and tenacious scent of onions. Cooks, arrayed in all the grandeur of their mightiness, prepare the dishes that are to crown them with immortal fame. Aldermen begin to be brilliant, and merchants to lay aside the calculating laws of arithmetic, for the more sensible laws of digestion. The rich, who have money to expend on the pampered appetite, now smile at the probable idea of their gratification, and the poor, who have nothing to waste on the superfluities of the palate, sigh over the shivering remains of a bone of stewed mutton, and shudder at the increasing ratio of their digestive faculties. Now the city epicure, with a napkin tucked under his three tiers of chin, prolongs his enjoyments till the fifth button of his waistcoat rubs hard against the dinner table, and his face glows with his corporeal exercitations. The late Dr. Brown, of Oxford, was a hero of this digestive prowess, and was never in his element till filled with the good things of the palate. One unhappy day, however, he was observed, contrary to his usual custom, to be extremely low-spirited at the conclusion of dinner. In reply to the affectionate solicitations of his friends, he remarked, that his mental depression proceeded from a natural cause; that he was accustomed to partake of the pleasures of the palate until his stomach, which was, in the onset, stationed six inches from the table, touched it with facility. .“ But now,” he continued, “it refuses to approximate by the unwonted distance of three inches, and I must, consequently, have lost my health, and debilitated my powers of digestion." " Let not this circumstance alarm you, my friend,” returned one of the doctor's most intimate associates of the college ; “ I purposely removed the table at least six inches from its usual position, and instead of losing, you have gained a renewal of appetite by three inches." The doctor was transported at the intelligence; he pledged his friend in

a magnum of claret, and resumed his wonted vivacity, which was ever afterwards punctually regulated by the elysian hour of five, and his own consequent approximation to the dinner table.

The Dejouné.


[The islands of Hoonga and Vavaoo, mentioned in this tale, are

two of the cluster known under the general name of the Tonga Islands; they are situated in the South Pacific Ocean, and were named by Captain Cook, who only visited a part of them, the Tonga Islands.]

In former times there lived a tooi (governor) of Vavaoo, who exercised a very tyrannical deportment towards his people: at length, when it was no longer to be borne, a certain chief meditated a plan of insurrection, and was resolved to free his countrymen from such odious slavery, or to be sacrificed himself in the attempt: being however treacherously deceived by one of his own party, the tyrant became acquainted with his plan, and immediately had him arrested. He was condemned to be taken out to sea and drowned, and all his family and relations were ordered to be massacred, that none of his race might remain. One of his daughters, a beautiful girl, young and interesting, had been reserved to be the wife of a chief of considerable rank, and she too would have sunk, the victim of the merciless destroyer, had it not been for the generous exertions of another young chief, who a short time before had discovered the cavern of Hoonga. This is a peculiar cavern, situated on the western coast, the entrance to which is at least a fathom beneath the surface of the sea at low water, and was first discovered by him when diving for turtle. The nature of this will be better understood if we imagine a hollow rock rising

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