be seen; a violent thrill rushed through her soul: it was powerful, but it brought a full assurance that anguish was past, and that Pearcy and happiness would still be her's. She was conveyed to her apartments, and, after a time, was sufficiently recovered to welcome her friends, who had returned from securing the garrison, which had surrendered. On inquiring, she found that Lord Rondle was not dead, but in such a mangled condition, that it was unlikely he would survive to receive the earthly punishment and disgrace that he so richly deserved, with the partners of his guilt. Pearcy saw him lying in the hall, whither he had been conveyed, writhing in agony-most of his limbs were broken. The severe pain under which he suffered caused him to think he was on the rack; and he would cry for mercy one moment,-in the succeeding one, the confession that he had murdered the baron, and committed other bloody deeds, would pass his lips. "Save me!" he would cry, "from the arch-enemy of mankind! he is spitting at me, Save me but from him, and I will consent to live in the bloody grave of de Morton, who has haunted me for murdering him. Pearcy and Blanche, I did not murder them: she will be his bride ;-wed a dead man-ha, ha, ha!" Then, with a laugh that could only proceed from a demon soul, he made the hall ring; then stopped suddenly, and cried "Don't mock me, Satan! I am in torments enough." Then the most horrid blasphemy fell from his lips, even the most hardened of the troops that surrounded him shrunk back.

Pearcy stopped the wretch, by charging him to pray, while yet he had the power, to implore for mercy from the Son of God.

Here,

"Who talks of God?" he replied. "I never served him. Think you he cares for me? no, no! it is too late ;-I am doomed for endless torments. Save me, or curses with a groan of agony, his guilty soul took flight from its earthly tenement for ever. His associates, that had any hand in the murder of the baron and his faithful Philip, were be headed in the forest, near the fatal spot, and the rest of his attendants were set at liberty.

The Lady Blanche was put in quiet possession of her domain; but, for many months, she preferred residing with her respected and venerable kinsman, at Kenilworth. There, in

the society of his amiable daughter, and her beloved Pearcy, she regained her health and spirits, which the late events had so impaired; and when the time of mourning was expired, she bestowed her hand upon her noble lover; that gift was valued by him beyond her possessions. Virtue was their guide through life: she never betrayed her trust, but led them and theirs in the path of happiness.

FRIENDSHIP'S OFFERING.

INSCRIBED TO SAMUEL WT, ESQ.
BY WILLIAM L***.

Tradition may boast of the heroes of old,

Whose names shed a lustre on history's page;
Whose hearts were created in honor's bright mould,—
Whose deeds were the glory and pride of the age;
And cannot we boast of some hearts in our day
Well worthy a place in the annals of fame?
Yes, the genius of kindness the tribute will pay,
And write on her tablets her own Wt's name.

The muse of good-nature watch'd over his birth,
And follow'd his footsteps through more mature years;
She stamp'd on his spirit the signet of worth,
Which plainly in every feature appears:

His heart and his hand are both open and free,-
Through joy and through sorrow he still is the same;
And many a suffering heart will agree,

In gratitude's measure to bless W

-t's name.

Though, haply, some errors may fall to his lot,
They're errors alone of the head, not the heart-
Oh, may they in pity be ever forgot,

Nor e'er cause the tear of affliction to start!

This tribute to worth we most cheerfully give,

'Twas nurtur'd and cherish'd by friendship's pure flame,

And long in each breast may the sentiment live,

Which bids us revere and respect Wt's name.

THE VISION.

BY R. SHELTON MACKENZIE, ESQ.

[The following is a record of the life of one "whose name was writ in water!" Who or what he was may be never known :whether he lived, and breathed, and had his being," or be the child of imagination, it is equally unprofitable to inquire; the assurance that the principal event (the supernatural one) is STRICTLY TRUE, even in its most minute details, may cast a slight interest over the story, be it real or fictitious.]

R.S. M'K.

"The mother that bore me would not, could not, recognize her son in the wasted being who sits down to tell one memory of his heart; my lineaments are changed; my eyes have lost their fire-my cheeks their flush: I have become

less white and smooth is the brow on which they said Thought, the crowned monarch whose throne is in the mind, had set his seal in my sunny youth; it is

Now furrow'd o'er

With wrinkles, plough'd by moments not by years
And hours-all tortur'd into ages-hours

Which I outlive!'

and my heart-but let that pass: I must back to my humanity, and write for men.

"I am the youngest of many children: I was the first in the gifts of understanding: I may own it now when the lamp of life is sending out its last flickering beam. I was the most distinguished among my brethren. The mighty masters of the mind-the writers of the antique times, who poured out mirth, melody, and wisdom, (for to be happy is to be wise,) like pure streams, gushing from the deep and inexhaustable fountains of their own ardent hearts;the all whose names are hallowed by time, which has mellowed and sanctified their lofty inspirations, and hymned to heaven, to the present and the future, to the days that will be, through the days that have

been, their perpetual memories, these were all familiar to me almost from the time when reason first began to bathe my soul in the dew of its unfading reality. With little of effort did my memory record the treasures of imagination and knowledge which these chroniclers of other days and olden inspirations scattered, with lavish outpourings of spirit, over their venerable and venerated works. Pleasant was it for my soul to bask in the glorious sunshine of theirs. Delightful was it for my younger and tenderer thought to borrow strength, and vigor from the calm serenity of theirs. Nor were the magicians of later times, of my own country, of other climes unknown by me, or unprised in their worth.

And with my knowledge grew

The thirst of knowledge, and the power and joy
Of this most bright intelligence.'

The past and present were stored in the treasury of my aspiring heart, for these through whom the past yet lived, and by whom the present might hope for memorials as permanent and bright, were the chosen companions of my hours of holiday; and I know no playmates so untiring and ever friendly as these my books!

Boyhood passed away, and I shot up into the stature of manhood. A proud heart was mine, which brooked not the efforts of the haughty to look me down.

To such I would reply

With a calm glance, and cold contemptuous eye.'

And though I sought not the fellowship of man, it pursued me, like a shadow in the sunny day, or a thought in the starry night, even into the recesses of my retirement: and though I spoke with unkind words, and a harsh glance, still did it follow me, until I was won by the admiration I had awakened, which, even through contumely, could seek for my presence; and I spurned no more what I felt was meant to honor, not to vex me; and I mingled in the joy, an all-sought guest, and the pleasant tale, and the mirthful song came freely from my lips, and in the festive hour I scattered happiness around me, and men marvelled at the unknown witchery with which one so young had the heart to render enjoyment of double worth;

and all tongues said, and all hearts felt, that even to mirth himself I had lent richer smiles, and bound the temples of the bright-eyed child with wreathes snatched by me from the lap of pleasure!

:

Thus I shone as a star among them-the distinguished of the circle. Many a tongue grow eloquent in the praise of the young and half-haughty student, whose smile was, as a guerdon, treasured up by the tender heart through hours of solitude or mirth: many a cheek grew roseate at my approach -many a dark eye flashed out its latent fires, and more than eloquent expression, as it met my gaze;-many a lovely maiden trembled with the fever of sudden, but not undelightful emotion, as the touch of my fingers came thrillingly upon her delicate hand in the wildering movements of the passionnursing dance many a heart, proud as ever beat within a bosom which, sculpturally beautiful, was white as the moultings of heaven's dove, panted for my approach; and then (not through what the idle deem the fickleness of a woman's wish, but through a very infinite excess of deepest feeling,) shrunk back into itself when it felt the presence it longed for. Many an ear was attentive to listen to, and hang on the slightest words which my lips let fall, for there were who thought few musics so sweetly tender, so passionately soft, as the accents which, thrilling to the very depths of the soul, were to them as the key to deep and powerful feelings, striking the chords from whence the melodies of the charmer, hope, would rush. The watchful eye and listening ear of beauty--innocent beauty, were vigilant to see and hear each actioned impulse, and each uttered thought of mine: and when I presented a rose, aye, even the lowliest meadow flower to any of the breathing stars which formed that overwhelming galaxy of loveliness, was it not secretly worn and fondly cherished next the throbbing heart,-even after its beauties were no more, and its odor had fled,‚—as a memorial, slight but tender, of him whose hand had touched it, and whose lovethoughts might have been, if but for a moment, with the gift?

"Ye may well deem that it was not in my nature to be insensible to the feelings I thus excited; but, flatteringly as this consciousness fell into my soul, I heeded not the incense it wafted there. I felt that within me, whispering that I was born for much more than the admiration of the few. I felt

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