him. The principal object of this letter is to entreat, that if not very inconvenient, you will come over, and allow your friend the pleasure of shaking you by the hand once more. He bids me tell you, that he has much to say, and that the power of communicating with you upon several subjects near his heart, would contribute more than any medicine to his recovery. May it be permitted a stranger to enforce this request, by adding his testimony to the General's own conviction? It is not the physician who "can minister unto a mind diseased;" it is the friend alone who can sooth and sustain the sinking spirits, and I look upon my patient as requiring your advice as much as he does mine, though I have had long knowledge of his complaints, and have accompanied him from India. I will not longer trespass on your attention than to request an immediate answer, saying whether or not you can comply with the entreaty of which I am the medium.

I am, Sir,

your obedient, humble servant,
A. PANCRAS.

LETTER XXIV.

FROM MISS DOUGLAS TO MISS SANdford.

My dearest Julia,

It is some time since you have heard from me, and in the interval much has happened to disturb our even course of life. The departure of our friends, particularly that of Arthur, produced a degree of desolation at Glenalta, which can only be understood by such as have felt the pangs of separation from those they love. When you

left us, a similar chasm was made in our happiness, but you could not comprehend our feelings, though you were very sorry to say farewell. You were going, we were staying, and supposing the same measure of affection, there must be a wide difference between the situation of a mind presented continually with new objects that force themselves on the observation, and one that is

bound in all the melancholy associations of that scene which had witnessed its happiness. The fresh air, the constant movement, the necessity of speaking and interesting oneself in the details of a journey, must save the heart much bitterness, which is reserved for the saddened spirits left behind. I never shall forget the tomb-like silence that pervaded our cheerful abode when the last sound of the carriage wheels, that bore away dear Mrs. Fitzroy and Arthur, were no longer to be heard. We then only, seemed to feel the full extent of our deprivation.

Charlotte and I, unable to occupy ourselves, wandered like ghosts. Oh the emptiness of a, bedchamber from which your friend has just departed! The pillow still bearing impress of the head which had rested on it so recently; the spikes of lavender scattered on the floor, which, perhaps, you had gathered yourself in a happier hour, to give fragrance to the now vacant wardrobe; the back of a letter inscribed with the name that now stops your utterance, and the thousand other trifles, light as air, that take affection by surprise, and make one wretched

through every fibre of the frame! Fanny's grief had quicker vent; she wept, till like a babe that cries itself to sleep, nature would have rest; and I envied her the power of listening with rapture, to the history of some young cygnets, which old Lawrence had got from Bantry as a present for her. Frederick was sincerely sorrowful, but he was obliged to attend to Mr. Oliphant, and his mind was relieved by the necessity of being employed.

The beloved mother who suffers more than she enjoys society, always returns to the stillness of retirement, glad to repose after exertion, and rewarded by the happy feeling of having practised self-denial in order to make others happy.

Charlotte and I then were the miserable of our little circle, and the kind Phil. accordingly gave his principal attention to us. He insisted on our being busy. He drove us to our gardens, to our poor people, to the schools, all of which had been less carefully watched, while our friends were with us. How slow is the progress of improvement. How rapid the growth

of whatever is baleful in its nature! We found much to reclaim, and were ashamed, as well as astonished to find how things may go astray, and run to ruin, while one is only pursuing what appears an innocent gratification. Well, it shall not happen again. We have now restored matters to their former good order, and if we enjoy less pleasure than we did in the midst of more varied attraction; I feel more contentment and less self-reproach, since we have resumed our accustomed course. I now understand that of which it was so difficult to convince me, amely, that company, however delightful, is too stimulating for a continuance, and that it is very wholesome to be left alone now and then with one's own heart.

Letters (that blessed invention) have informed us constantly of all that is interesting in the lives and adventures of our absent friends; but the last accounts from Arthur have distressed mamma, and produced commotion in our tranquil valley.

My poor uncle is in short arrived, and so ill that his physician has written to beg Mr. Ot