my last request, and I know you too well to doubt it, shall you ever have any other misery from me. You already guess what I would have-My wife and child!! O my brother, on you they entirely depend! To you I leave them, and with entire dependence that you will do more for them than I could have courage to ask.

"Providence, I trust, will permit my escape, that you may not suffer the agony and disgrace which would be brought upon you, and upon my innocent child, by my death upon-O Charles! I cannot write the horrible, the detested word. Thinking of the state to which I have reduced myself, drives me almost to madness; and, in the depth of my despair, I was near doing that dreadful deed which can never be repented of! Yes, I should have put an end to my wretched life, and rushed, guilty as I am, uncalled into the presence of my Maker, had not what I once heard you say on that subject flashed suddenly across my mind, and put so horrible an end, in its true colours, before my eyes. Το you then I owe what chance still remains for repentance and pardon.

"This is, alas! the last time that I shall ever unburden my heart to a true friend; and though I had resolved against it, I will tell you the particulars of my wretchedness. Two nights ago, as I was carousing with my usual gay companions, a paper was put into my hand from one whom I little regarded, which informed me, that a certain banker had laid an information against me upon a charge of forgery, and that the search for me was already begun. I started. up, hardly knowing what I did, and was flying rather than walking towards my own house, when my recollection suddenly returning, I became sensible that I should probably meet the officers of justice there; and turning rapidly into another direction, I went on for some time almost in a state of insanity: but

that good fortune which used to be my boast, did not here desert me: I found myself opposite to the house of a man who dealt in old clothes;-a thought instantly struck me, and finding the man at home, I hastily fitted myself from his wardrobe, with those which I thought would most effectually disguise me, and, leaving my own in exchange, set out as fast as my legs would carry me, and soon lost sight of London. As I walked along, I formed my plan, which was, if possible, to get to the sea-side, and so out of the kingdom. I felt a ray of hope and comfort from this idea; but the thoughts of what I left behind, of never again beholding my child, felt like a dagger to my heart. Before this time I hardly knew that I loved her; but she now seemed dearer than life, and I would freely have run the risk of losing it by any means but the detested one of a public execution, to have once more pressed this precious injured creature to my bosom. But I had no choice; and, tearing myself away, travelled all night; and when day appeared, dreading the sight of a human being, and fancying every sound I heard the feet of my pursuers, I struck into woods and by-paths, hardly daring to throw myself upon the ground for rest, though fainting with fatigue and exhausted by hunger. I ventured to purchase a little bread as I passed hastily through a village in the course of the day, and allayed my burning thirst with such water as I met with on my way. Late at night I reached this place, and, though I shrunk from the sight of a human face, was compelled by fearful necessity to go to a house for shelter and refreshment, and try to secure the projected means of my escape, which, as I was fortunately able to offer a large bribe, I trust has been effected.

"O Charles, the time approaches, and I must hasten to conclude; the ship in which I hope to fly sails in a few hours, and I am now so much agitated as hardly to be able to write. I know, my good, my

incomparable brother, that you will feel deeply anxious, before I bid you a last adieu, to know something more than I have yet told you of the state of my mind. I will not deceive you at this solemn moment

I hate myself; I hate my former life; I hate even life itself, and would fling it from me with disdain, did not my soul shrink back with dread of what must follow! Happy, happy brother! you have secured a blessed lot in both worlds; while I, wretch that I am, have lost all hope in either! Can this horrible feeling, this miserable apathy, be repentance? Ah no; I feel no love of God, I do not dare to love him, I can only tremble at his power! O that I could reform, that I could new-mould my heart, that I could make it resemble yours! But I feel it hard, and callous to all that is good; long habits of evil press it down, my soul seems to have lost its noble faculties, and to have reduced itself to a level with the brutes that perish!

"It is for your sake, I am persuaded, that I am rescued from death; the misery of knowing that your brother died by the hands of an executioner will be spared you, and my wife and innocent child will escape the deep disgrace:-were my cold heart capable of gratitude, I would return thanks for that.

"The night wears fast away, and I must, with a trembling hand and breaking heart, bid you a long, a last adieu! In this world we can never meet again, and O, what hope, what prospect have I beyond the grave!

"This is an awful moment; I am parting for ever from my only friend, from him who would have rescued me from destruction, and made me an angel like himself! O my brother, I write this upon my knees. May that God whom you adore shower down all his precious blessings on your head, here and hereafter; and may no thought of me, the wretched wanderer, interrupt your bliss! I only ask your

prayers, without daring to say that I will deserve them. Farewell, dearest, best of brothers, once again, farewell!"

Poor Charles had been so agitated as he read this letter, that when he came to its conclusion his reason seemed for a while overpowered, and he remained some time in a state of torpor near to insensibility. This stupor would probably have lasted longer, had not Mrs. Stanley, gently tapped at the door, and told him that tea waited for him. He heard the summons; but, unconscious of its meaning, answered by a deep sigh, or rather groan; which so much alarmed his kind friend, that she hastily opened the door, and hurrying to him, " You are ill, my dear child," she exclaimed, "you are very ill!”

This brought back his recollection; and pointing to the letter, which lay on the ground, "Read that,' cried he," read that heart-rending paper!"

She took it up with trembling hands, and while she perused the contents, his eyes were fixed upon her face; but his mind again became nearly vacant, and he would have relapsed into his former state of insensibility, had not this tender friend taken his passive hand, and seating herself by him, "How much have we to be thankful for, my dear Charles," said she," in the contents of this letter! Your brother's life has been wonderfully preserved, time given him for repentance, and his heart seems at length to be really touched."

"No, no," cried Charles, "all that is contained in that fatal paper chills my soul! Has he not committed a crime, by which his very life is forfeited?"

"That is too true," replied she; "but the Almighty has granted him a further time of trial, and he finished that writing on his knees praying for blessings upon you."

"Give me the paper," cried he hastily, "and leave me, my dear madam, leave me to examine its

contents more perfectly; one horrid idea has so fully taken possession of my mind, that I hardly know what besides it may contain."

Mrs. Stanley put the letter into his hand, and, begging him to compose his mind, left the room.

During this second perusal he felt less agitation; and when he had finished, "O thou Father of mercy, thou God of all consolation," said he, looking devoutly upward, "may the pangs which he suffers be the coals of fire, which thou in love art heaping on his head, to melt a heart hitherto so hard, so frozen! My weak efforts were in vain, but Thou art powerful, and to Thee I leave him. Yes, my brother, to whatever region thou bendest thy dreary course, God will meet thee there! He is still present, and if thou wilt turn to him with all thy soul, though thy sins be as scarlet, they shall be whiter than snow!""

He now shed a plentiful shower of tears: his heart, which before seemed ready to burst, was relieved, and he breathed more freely: he persuaded himself that Robert's letter gave much ground to hope that a blessed change had already begun to take place in him, and recollecting what Mrs. Stanley had said, he took it down stairs to her, hoping by her favourable opinion more fully to confirm his own. This excellent woman justly observed, that there was more hope of his reformation from his backwardness to promise, than if he had been confident in the strength of his newly formed resolutions; that it was evident his eyes were now open; that he saw vice in her true colours, and was fully sensible of the delights, as well as the advantages, of a virtuous life. "True," replied Charles, "his afflictions have removed the mist, which youth, high spirits, and a tide of good fortune had raised before his sight; and O how ardently do I pray, that, warned by his escape from the horrible darkness which had so nearly overwhelmed him, he may keep his eyes still fixed upon G