echo I repeated the beloved name, and it alone returned it mournfully to my desolate soul,-Claude ! Claude !—and slowly in the bosom of its mountainous dwelling the last long whisper of Claude died away. A few nights after my beloved one's death I had a strange dream. I felt as if carried away into space, and going up, up, on high, till I could see the earth no more; the regions of the clouds I had passed, and still on, on, I went, till I was surrounded by myriads of suns and stars, through which I flew like the wind. At last a winged ethereal being took me by the hand, and on again we went; then one of the fingers of my companion pointed to one brilliant spot, and soon I glided through it. The sight inside was so dazzling that for a moment my eyes closed, unable to bear it; but little by little I opened them, and— oh, blissful, ever blissful moment!-amidst flowers, looking like sparkling gems, two shadows were standing; one was my husband's, the other my Claude's; both extended their hands to me, and between them I sat, entranced with happiness. Our souls and hearts seemed blended together. Both the faces of my loved ones were beaming with pure joy and felicity; I felt that to me they were the same, my heart being equally wrapt up in both. On looking at my feet, a tiny fairy form sat looking up at me, with its little bright smiling eyes. "This is our child," said my own husband, with the same tenderness as in former years he used to look at me. I inwardly felt I was not worthy of so much happiness as to be reunited thus with my own; but as I looked up, I saw before me in large letters these words: "You are forgiven!" and in one moment all I had seen was lost to my gaze. I awoke, regretting that so consoling a phantasmagoria should have been a mere fancy of the mind. And now that I have recorded all that my life has had of joy and sorrow, I will lay down my pen. I have drunk of the bitter cup almost to the dregs. There could only be one more sorrow to me to drain it, and that would be if anything should happen to my dear Percy. God grant that this last galling drop may never touch my lips! Lonely I go on, with my thoughts buried in the graves of those I loved. My constant silent companion is Bernard; he understands me, though we do not speak. When I sit by the mound -recalling to me my beloved Claude-at the foot of the trees which have felt the heart-beatings of both of us; when I look with gloomy thoughts at the mountains, the lake, the valley, the clear blue firmament we had looked at together, when I hear the murmur of the wind, the rustling of the leaves, the buzzing of the winged world, and when I fancy that the shadow of Claude is sitting at my side and sees my sorrow, I feel that soon he will call me to him, because there is nothing more for me to do upon earth, and I can say with Schiller : "Ich habe niemand-niemand Auf dieser grossen weiten erde, niemand, Ich meiner Thranen mich entlesten kann.” I have once seen his little child, and for the last time, as Mrs. Barrington was going to leave the place. Bernard caressed him; I believe he knew who he was ; and when the faithful animal is in the house, I have seen him over and over again stand before the portrait and bust of Doctor Barrington, and whine away in sorrow for his departed friend. Sometimes I have put the picture within his reach, and he has licked it all over as he used to do his hands. My good Parry mourns also for him, and even Jones stands often at the gate, as if waiting for him, he who is gone for ever from our sight. Daily I pray for death, but it does not come; and my cry is, ever and ever, “Oh God, when shall I be at rest?" THE END. Watson and Hazell, Printers, London and Aylesbury. A CLASSIFIED CATALOGUE OF HENRY S. KING & Co.'S PUBLICATIONS. AUTOBIOGRAPHY AND OTHER MEMORIALS OF MRS. AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF DR. A. B. GRANVILLE, M.D., F.R.S., &c. SAMUEL LOVER, THE LIFE AND UNPUBLISHED WORKS OF. By Bayle Bernard. In 2 vols. Post 8vo. With a Steel Portrait. [Preparing. A MEMOIR OF THE REV. DR. 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