me up in the way I should go; who knew that I would have died for him, and once possessed an affection for him that child never before had for his parent-he thought thus unworthily of me, and believed me to be what, had he reflected calmly, and considered with candour my previous life, he must have known to be false. And how strange it was! In proportion as I had fallen in the estimation of my father, I had risen in that of strangers; in the proportion that he withheld his protection and countenance, they had extended their hands in friendship, and shewn themselves disposed to be kind to me; as I was vilified to him, so I was esteemed by them; as I was cast off, and disregarded, and slighted by him, so was I taken by the hand by them; and the more mean the opinion that he had formed of my character, my conduct, and my attainments, the higher their estimate of me had become in every one of these respects !

And yet 'twas pleasing to think that I was not utterly cast off by the wise and good, who, without laying "the flattering unction to their souls," as my father did, that they were imbued with a thorough knowledge of character and the world, made allowances for the temptations with which youth was beset, and viewed, with a lenient eye and charitable censure, the indiscretions which early in life, unhappily, most of "flesh is heir to." Nor was this reflection' merely adapted to impart pleasure to my mind as I

indulged in it, for then it had been idle, and might have degenerated into a feeling of self-complacency, not only far from commendable, but positively injurious, as tending to defeat the good which such confidence would otherwise achieve by inciting me to exertion, and giving encouragement to my efforts to merit the esteem I had gained, nor make my friends blush for the object of their partiality. And how gratifying it was, each day that I adhered to my newformed resolutions, to consider that my friends had not judged of me amiss! How pleasing to think, as I daily stored my mind with knowledge, that they would feel a pride in having befriended me! And how soothing the thought that my mind was no longer possessed by a tumult of harassing reflections and contending emotions, but was calm and placid, and beginning once again to be charitable as of yore! Much of this feeling I owed to conversation and almost frequent intercourse with Mr. Bainbridge; for he, good man, would shew by his acts, and his feelings, and his sentiments, how beautiful was the pursuit of good, how lovely the life of innocent recreation, and how sensible the course of rational enjoyment. The few weeks that had elapsed since I had devoted myself to the resuming of my studies, and brought back my mind to a comparatively healthy state, seemed, in truth, like an age, so complete a change had the accustoming myself to regular habits effected

in the current of my thoughts, and, indeed, in the whole train of my ideas. And how blest were the feelings with which I read the letter of Margaret Atherling! Each line breathed a spirit of excellence which showed how guileless were the thoughts of that pure mind which had dictated the characters her hand had traced! How affectionate the heart which prompted the outpourings of the expressions of tenderness and devotion to her father! How fraught with religion the soul which, while she bestowed her grateful thanks on me for preserving her life, gave to God the praise for not deserting her in the hour of trial! Oh, that I were worthy of you, I exclaimed; that I had but one tithe of the purity of thy virtues!

"Geta.

CHAPTER X.

Imus venimus:

Videmus. Virgo pulchra ! et quo magis diceres,
Nihil aderat adjumenti ad pulchritudinem.
Capillus passus, nudus pes, ipsa horrida :

Lacrumæ, vestitus turpis: ut, ni vis boni
In ipsâ inesset formâ, hæc formam extinguerent."
TER. PHORMIO, Act I., Sc. 2.

COULD a doubt have arisen of the state of my feelings
towards Margaret, previous to my interview with her
father, the letter which he delivered to me went far
to remove all question on that point, and at once. To
tell that I read that letter over and over again,
you
and that I kissed it a thousand times, and pressed it
as often to my bosom, is but to recount what I suppose
all men do on receiving the first letter from their
mistress, and I should only weary you by a recital of
the extravagances of which I was guilty. Yet, let me
not say guilty, for 'tis unholy to apply so harsh a term
to actions which, harmless in themselves, emanate
from the most innocent of all earthly passions, and
the real possession of which, in its purity, makes man
only a little lower than the angels. "You have bound
me," she said, "by more than human obligation,
for you have not only saved mine, but have preserved

my dear father's life. Did you know him," she proceeded, "as I know him, you would think that I could not be sufficiently grateful to you. O! Mr. Stanton, if ever being was worthy of affection, it is he; and if there be gratitude on earth, sure am I that I feel it towards you, my friend and my preserver, would I could say my brother."

"Would indeed," I exclaimed, "for I had then been happy." And yet it seemed almost absurd to think that I should be in love with a girl whom I had seen only once, and of whose disposition, and tastes, and acquirements I could not possibly know anything. That she was possessed of great personal attractions was certain; but might not the circumstances in which I beheld her have heightened, in my imagination, the extent of that beauty, and impose upon my too sanguine temper, and the love I had for everything bordering on adventure or romance? That she was possessed of great mental energy I could not but feel assured, for without it a young female, surrounded, as she was, by the most appalling of dangers, and threatened every instant with a fate too horrible to contemplate without shuddering, could not have conducted herself in so admirable a manner as she had done on that eventful night. That she was by no means of a selfish character, I also could not but be satisfied, for none who thought of self alone would have exposed her own life by the delay neces