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CHAP. X.

The Heathen, who no better understood
Than what the light of nature taught, declar'd
No future mifery could be prepar'd
For the fincere, the merciful, or good.

Go bring, the Judge impartial cries,

• Those rebel fons who did my laws despise;

• Whom neither threats, nor promises, could move,

• Nor all my fufferings, nor all my love,

• To save themselves from everlasting miseries.

Pomfret.

The Guardian Angel - the Will of Omnipotence.

NE evening, as the forrow-struck chieftain was musing in the marble hall on the probable fate of his children, and the melancholy death of their angel mother, the door fuddenly flew open, and the spectre of the ruin stood before him-a frown o'erspread her featuresthe dying embers received fresh lustre, and Sir Alwyne imperceptibly laid his hand upon his fword.

An awful paufe ensued the baron fearfully enquired What new scene of distresswhat calamity do you warn me of!'

'The greatest,' replied the vision, ' that inflicts human nature-the vengeance of infulted heaven!'

Sir Alwyne shuddered.

Know me,' continued the vision, for one appointed to guard thee against the influence of thy evil genius - mortal-why thus wearing the cloak of unavailing forrow-why complaining at the difpenfations of thy father in heaven? Mistaken man-he can raise, or he can crush thee --when the storm of black adversity bursts o'er thy devoted head, will he not protect the children of his mercy? It is your duty to fubmit with fortitude and patience to the decree of the most Just, nor dare to infult with all the mockery of ceaseless grief, his' righteous mandates. Forbear, -place thy firm confidence in him, and thou shalt yet be happy.'

'Happy!' exclaimed Sir Alwyne, kneeling Happy with

at the feet of the vision

Elwina?'

'With Elwina,' anfwered the Genii, 'Thou shalt meet her there-(pointing to heaven)

E

her virtues have merited, and found a due reward. Seek not, erring mortal, to render the remainder of thy days miferable-be not ungrateful to the fupreme ruler of all human action-Thou shalt yet be happy. But remember, the way to happiness does not lie in being disturbed at the will of omnipotence, but in being refigned.'

A radiance, like the fun-beam of the morn, shone around her-soft and delightful mufic founded in the air-and the fluttering of wings, light as the doves, were heard as the afcended the bright regions of unutterable glory.

Princes and illustrious warriors now resorted to the august pile of Alwyne-no more was heard the voice of defpondency, and it's battlements held no longer the funeral trophies of the dead.

The lofty walls re-echoed with the warlike fongs of the minstrels, when the noble houses of Douglas and of Percy entered into an impolitic scene of war.

The glorious atchievements of Sir Edric were heard with enthusiastic rapture, and the reiterated bursts of applaufe on actions worthy of record, thook the vast fabric to the very

centre.

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But when the bards tuned their harps to the plaintive melody that rehearsed the virtues of Elwina, the foft and melancholy theme stole on the sense, and touched accutely the tenderest chord-oft would the minstrel pause, and wipe from off his filver beard the fallen tear infpiring goblet held no longer it's acknowledged power, and the noble guests would then retire to ponder on the various excellencies that adorned her life.

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(A confiderable part of the manufcript injured.)

To return to the commencement of the legend.

Sir Alwyne had finished the healthful recreation of the chace, when portending clouds urged the neceffity of a speedy return. The unfortunate and storm-beaten pilgrim caught his attention as he lay extended on the dreary wastethe humanity of the knight was manifested to every child of misfortune-his gates were ever open to the benighted traveller, who found a foft repose to ease his wanderings-and the worn-out veteran has often fat in the hall recounting his hardy feats, and met a just reward for years of blood and toil.

At the preffing entreaty of the pilgrim, Sir Alwyne entered the apartment appropriated for the reception of the stranger. He rose on the entrance of the baron, who, stretching forth his hand, kindly requested him to be feated.

The chieftain observed the countenance of his guest-he feemed to have feen better days, yet fatigue and travel had apparently worn him to the bone-the filver blossoms of age shone on on his face, and his majectic mein commanded refpect.

'Your kindness, faid the stranger, addressing himself to the chieftain claims fincerity and gratitude your character, as a christian and a warrior, is shewn in the affection of your people - -your name is lisped by the young, and your aged tenants hold your bright example forth as an incentive to virtuous actions. Pardon me, Sir Knight, flattery is a stranger to my heart; -you had a brother ?

' I had,' answered Sir Alwyne.

That brother lives,' -the pilgrim faultered. Lives! -is it possible!" cried the baron, starting from his feat Where is he??

' Alas!' replied the pilgrim.

• Why do you droop dejected?' faid Sir Alwyne, 'If my brother lives, where shall I fly to

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