Here I related as briefly as possible the history of the boy's sojourn amongst us, recalling to his mind the funeral which had stopped his carriage on the last evening of the old year. Without exciting his suspicions as to what my communications tended to, I then added that, strange as it might appear, the papers about which the last living thoughts of the boy had been occupied, and which had come into my hands, appeared to have reference to himself, and that I considered it right, therefore, that they should pass direct from my hands into his own.

The squire looked somewhat grave, but he assumed a careless air, and, putting forth his hand to receive the packet, said,

"Very good. You can leave them with me, and when I have leisure I will attend to them."

With this I took my leave.

19th.-No message from the squire. I feel anxious and perturbed. I desire to know the effect produced on this hard man of the world by that affecting chronicle of suffering caused by himself.

23d, Saturday. The squire came to my house to-day. I had just finished tea when Becky rushed in, all excitement, saying that he was walking in the garden and desired to speak with me. I went out, well knowing that this visit could have reference to only one subject. Before going out, however, I bade my servant Becky go and inquire after

The first words the squire put to me were whether I had read the papers which I had put into his hands.

I replied that I had done so, and, moreover, I again related to him how they had fallen into my hands; for, though I had already told him this, he seemed to have forgotten it.

He said I had done very wrong, as they ought to have been given at once into his hands, seeing they were on private business, and that of a serious nature. I showed him, in return, how impossible it would have been for me to know for whom they were designed unless they had been first read, saying, furthermore, that it was well that they fell into my hands instead of others', who might not have respected their contents as I had done. He could not but confess the truth of my words, and then, resting his head upon his hand, sunk in deep thought for some time, his countenance wearing an air of deep dejection.

I respected his feelings too much to break the silence, and waited for him to speak. At length he said in a low and tremulous voice,

"You are a man of honor, Mr. Goodman, and I believe that any confidence reposed in you will be inviolate. In your eyes I appear at this moment as a villain; few, however, are so bad but that something may be said in their extenuation. I will now, as regards this most unhappy affair, relate to you some facts which have never before passed my lips, and these, though they may not excuse me, will prove at least that I am not wholly

On the fierce foaming, bursting tide, When every mad wave drowns the moon Or whistles aloft his tempest tune,

And tells how goeth the world below,

throng

To cut across the reflex of a star

That fled, and, flying still before me, gleamed
Upon the glassy plain; and oftentimes,
When we had given our bodies to the wind,
And all the shadowy banks on either side
Came sweeping through the darkness, spin-
ning still

The rapid line of motion, then at once
Have I, reclining back upon my heels,
Stopped short; yet still the solitary cliffs.
Wheeled by me, even as if the earth had
rolled

With visible motion her diurnal round.

Behind me did they stretch in solemn train, Feebler and feebler, and I stood and watched Till all was tranquil as a dreamless sleep.

I never was on the dull tame shore
But I loved the great sea more and more,
And backward flew to her billowy breast
Like a bird that seeketh its mother's nest;
And a mother she was, and is, to me,
For I was born on the open sea.

The waves were white, and red the morn,
In the noisy hour when I was born;
And the whale it whistled, the porpoise
rolled,

And the dolphins bared their backs of gold;
And never was heard such an outery wild
As welcomed to life the ocean-child.

S

ING GEM.

EEK not with gold or glittering gem
My simple heart to move:

To share a kingly diadem

Would never gain my love.

The heart that's formed in virtue's mould
For heart should be exchanged;
The love that once is bought with gold

May be by gold estranged.

Can wealth relieve the lab'ring mind
Or calm the soul to rest?
What healing balm can riches find

To soothe the bleeding breast?
'Tis love, and love alone, has power

To bless without alloy,

To cheer affliction's darkest hour
And brighten every joy.

THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY.