'Bourne from whence no traveller returns."

When she had reached her 19th year, a spirit of another stamp solicited, and acquired the paramount place in her affections; the mind of the one seemed to be the exact portrait of the others; their turn, their taste, their tempers, exactly coincided. But unfortunately, the father of Fidelo, for such was his name, was stern in his manners, and avaricious in his pursuits; his acres and his guineas were his Deities, and unto them he rendered the homage of his affec

such occasions; she was dubbed a goddess and an angel, and received as much tongue But there was an inexpressible something adoration from coxcombs, as if she had in her waning features, which rendered her actually dropped from the celestial regions; even lovely in decay; a momentary ray but strange as it may seem, she never once lighted up her sinking eye, which pro-forgot, that she was neither more nor less claimed, beyond the power of utterance, than a mere woman. the gratitude of a noble mind, that was soon, alas! too soon, to be laid in ruins by the indiscriminating leveller of mankind. My friend advanced to the side of the bed, and softly inquired how she felt. The substance of what she said, while we remained, was as follows: I have now nearly done with all things terrestrial, and am just standing upon the brink of the world of spirits. I cannot look back upon my past life, without beholding it stained with numberless imperfections; but, thank God, I can look forward without terror, by a well-grounded hope in the sufficiency of that atonement, which has been made by the Redeemer of mankind, in the room of the guilty. Animated with this hope, I anticipate that happy moment, when my disembodied spirit shall wing its way to the abodes of the just, and there find a sure sanctuary of refuge from all the troubles, cares, and perplexities, which are strewed around life's thorny path.' She then said a few words more to the Doctor, her cousin. I saw the marks of generous nature spreading around the features, and standing in the eye of my friend.

He had a heart to feel, an eye to shed the tear
Of sympathetic feeling o'er distress.

But suddenly recollecting himself he
quitted the room: I followed his example.
We took our leave of Mrs. Simons, and
left the house. Before we left the garden,
I turned round, and took a hasty view of
the exterior of the house; the huge archi-
traves, and the leaden casements of the
windows, plainly proved that it was not
the work of modern architecture; but
there was a visible taste and neatness in
the execution of every thing around it,
which agreeably compensated for the want
of external decoration. On our way home,
I received from my friend the following
sketch-Amelia was, while in health,
handsome in form, and beautiful in fea-
tures; the accomplishments of her mind,
added to those of her person, gained her a
place in the esteem of all who knew her;
she was at a very early period of her life
surrounded with a herd of admirers, who
assiduously plied her ears with all the
common-place terms, which are used on

tions;
he knew nothing of the finer move-
ments of the soul, but in so far as they
ministered to the gratification of his favour-
ite propensity. When their love had nearly
attained its zenith, my uncle died, and a
train of exigencies followed his exit, which
reduced the fortune, which Amelia should
otherwise have had, far below that which
Fidelo was likely to possess. This called
forth the authority of his father; he per-
emptorily ordered him to break off the in-
timacy which had hitherto subsisted between
them, on pain of his final displeasure:
Fidelo remonstrated, but remonstrance was
considered as an insult upon his parental
authority, and only tended to render him
more imperative, He had now nothing
left but the extremes of beggary, or sub-
mission. Hoping that time might prove
more propitious to his passion, he choose
the latter, and wrote to Amelia the follow-
ing letter:-

By the decree of my father, I must see you no more! O my dear Amelia, compose yourself under this sad reverse of fortune. A brighter day may perhaps emerge from the present gloom ;—'see you no more'-gracious heaven! what untoward circumstances are inwoven with my destiny. I could live for ever in your presence, and gaze existence away in the contemplation of your charms; and can I see you no more? There is madness in the thought-I must pursue it no farther at present! adieu!

To Amelia.

FIDELO.'

The feelings of Amelia may be easier guessed than described, on perusing this letter; the superstructure of fancied bliss which she had fondly raised tottered to its base, in a moment.

The ray of hope that gleam'd athwart the gloom, [
Preserved her from absolute despair.'

The Father of Fidelo was unremitting
in his attempts to erase from the tablet of
his heart, every idea that associated itself
with Amelia; in order to effect this, he
proposed a union with a young lady who
had nothing to recommend her to his es-
teem, but her possessions; but Fidelo in-
dignantly rejected the proposal, and to free
himself from the importunities of his fa-
ther on this subject, solicited, and received
a commission in the army. He contrived
to gain a meeting with Amelia before he
joined the
regiment-never was
meeting more happy, never was parting
so bitter! But why dwell upon circum-
stances which can only give pain to the
feeling mind. Suffice it to say, that he
joined the regiment, and secured the esteem
of his brother officers, by his easy carriage
and unassuming manners; and by his
magnanimity, acquired the character of a
brave soldier. But O! how transient is
worldly greatness, his blood, along with
that of thousands, stained the verdure, and
soaked the plains of W-

The ties which bound the soul of Amelia to earth were now dissolved. She had lost her father, and her mother; yes, but she had lost more, she had also lost her Fidelo! The attempts of those around her to smooth the wrinkled forehead of sorrow were unavailing. While she was grateful for their kindness, she regretted the inadequacy of that kindness to the aid intended. Her mind was not like the impetuous torrent, that bursts its bounda

ries, and flows with a momentary rage, and

then returns to its pristine tranquillity; no, hers was the feelings of a mind which was fully sensible of a vaccuum in its enjoyment that all the world could not replenish.

MARRIAGE.

To the Editor of the Literary Melange.

'Love is heaven, and heaven is love,'-Scott.

SIR,-To the contemplative mind, it will appear a matter of surprise that any one, possessed of common sense, should think of bettering his condition in life by being married to a partner, who, though possessed of much wealth, is an object of dislike and aversion, But this is too frequently the case. Too frequently may be seen the miserable consequences which flow from a marriage, the subjects of which have not one iota of love towards each other.

Money is not a good itself. It may be the means of our possessing elegant furniture, splendid equipages, and magnificent houses. Our tables

may be covered, by its agency, with the richest wines, with the most delicate fruit of the orchard, and the most luxuriant herb of the field our bodies may be sheltered from the inclemencies of the weather with the most expensive apparel-our couches and our pillows may be made of the softest down: but, if we receive these luxuries by being united in marriage to beings on whom we look with an eye of aversion or scorn, it is impossible they can produce in our bosoms one particle of happiness.

timent, and of disposition-if the feelWithout a similarity of opinion, of senings of either sex beat not at the same pace, a great degree of the comforts and felicities of the matrimonial state must be diminished. For should the husband hate his wife, or should the wife

It is now about 12 months since Fidelo died. Since that period, the gaity of her spirits has completely left her, at all times I should have said, but those in which she indulges the hope that she will meet with those whom she loved on earth, in purer skies, and bask with them in unclouded bliss through eternity's revolving ages.Thus far he entertained me till we reached hate her husband, that couple and home, with an account of Mrs. Simons, their family must be in a miserable the woman with whom she lodged. She condition indeed. Their children will was her aunt, by her mother's side, and had acted the part of a mother to her, since deprived of her own. I need not add that we never again saw Amelia. She died in a few days after this interview. AMICUS,

either be fatherless or motherless; for the mother will love one child, and the father another. The child whom the father will love, the mother will hate;

and the one she will love, he will hate. | him not. He has wealth, and he has The disposition of their offspring will opulence; but he is devoid of a tenbe tinctured with the hatred, the ma- der, loving wife. He has a wife; but lignity, and jealousy of their parents; she loves him not. and they will be left, in a few years, I declaim not against money. It to plod through the world with hearts is the means by which the philosodepraved and minds uncultivated; or, pher puts in practice his preconceived if they have accomplishments, they theories, by which the poet displays will be those only which attract the the creations of his fancy, and by wondering gaze of the world. These which the christian performs his phi are the deplorable effects which issue lanthropic and godlike deeds. It is from a marriage unattended by the the means by which the savage emergentle and sublime passion of love. ges from a state of barbarism to a Without this divine principle, all the state of civilization-from midnight riches a couple may possess can be darkness to noontide splendour. But of no avail. They may both, with though its advantages are innumeratheir children, sit around the winter ble, it is, nevertheless, liable to abuse. fire, and we may call it a domestic And he who imagines it to be of itcircle; but it is not the circle of peace self a good; who bows before it as and love: they may both repose on an idol; who marries, for its sake the same couch; but it is not the alone, a woman whom he in his heart, couch of peace and love: they may perhaps, loathes or despises ; will find both awaken, and feel the cheering himself miserably mistaken if he thinks. beams of the morning sun; but they it will add to his comfort and happiare entirely unaffected by the renovat-ness. However miserable may be ing beams of peace and love: they the man who marries a poor woman, may both have their coffers filled with he who marries a woman for the sake the treasures of the Indies; but they of her riches is infinitely more miserpossess not the real and more substan- able. The former has one consoling tial pleasures-those of peace and reflection, of which the latter is delove. No, Mr. Editor; without that void, viz. that he has not perverted feeling, that affection, that passion, the sacred principles of his nature. which we denominate love, their gold, I think not, however, that the and their possessions of every kind, poor man, who marries because he is will be their bane. But let them in love, has few or no comforts. We once love each other, and wealth are not obliged to suppose, that, becease to be their god, they will enjoy cause he lacks what the world esteems as much happiness as human nature riches, he has neither house to reside can enjoy on this side of the grave. in, nor bed to repose in,-neither As a further proof of the imbecility fire to warm him, nor raiment to of riches without love, we ask, if the clothe him, nor food to afford him husband should be stretched on the subsistence. His house may not be bed of adversity, will his wife drop stately, but it is convenient; his firetears of grief, that his tears may be side may not be gaudy, but it is comwiped? will her heart bleed, that his fortable; his bed may not be soft, but heart may cease to bleed? will she it affords repose to his wearied limbs; support his head, assuage his pains, his raiment may not be splendid, but and pour the balm of consolation into it shields him from the wintry blast; his drooping soul? No, she loves his table may not be covered with the

elegant feast of Epicurus, but it is spread with the simple food which nature requires. There is more than this that makes him happy. He has a wife whom he loves, and by whom he is beloved. He has a wife, the tones of whose voice, and the expression of whose eye, and the glow of whose cheek, are calculated in the darkest hours of adversity, to shed a ray of light over his desponding soul.

When life looks lone and dreary,

What light can dispel the gloom? When time's swift wing grows weary, What charm can refresh his plume? "Tis woman, whose sweetness beameth O'er all that we feel or see;

And if morn of heaven e'er dreameth, 'Tis when he thinks purely of thee, woman!'

AMATOR NICPTIAZUM.

MISERY UPON MISERY.

LETTER FROM MY COUSIN.

and swearing they will kill themselves if
you refuse to marry them. Indeed, John,
I have taken many of them at their word,
but none have ever killed themselves for
me, that I could learn. Their protesta-
tions, therefore, are all false, and only cal-
culcated to blind silly girls. But whether
So they had better keep their distance in
false or true, they were all lost on me.

future, and not sigh any longer at my
feet. I won't listen to one of them. Some
of my acquaintances, to whom I told these
resolutions, have all declared they will
abide by them, and give no encouragement
to wooers of any description. Miss Le-
titia Hardy, dear girl, who is only three
years older than myself, has forsworn ma-
trimony nine years since. La! what a
sensible child she must have been when she
could see through its follies when only twenty
three years old. Indeed, I wish I had
possessed her prudence; but it is not yet
too late to learn. So, John, if any person
intimates the least wish to be introduced
to me, I desire that he may be told my real
sentiments: bid him keep off, and not teaze
me with compliments and courtship. But
John, dear me! how I am flying from the
subject. You know I was always subject
to fanciful aberrations.
Then coz, you
must know that there are hereabouts a
number of young ladies from twenty-five
to thirty years old, who are so foolish as to

So dear coz, you are fairly settled in town, and have, I learn, carried your good character along with you. May your levee of beggars prosper there, as well asit did in the country, As for me, I am doomed to dwell for ever among corn fields, hay stacks, horses, clowns, and I don't know what. Doubtless, John, you will be sur-sigh after the very thing that I despise; and prised at my writing you at present, as I sent you a letter only two days since; but don't imagine that I do so on my own account, or at my own suggestion. I am not so selfish as do any such thing. I write you solely at the request of divers young ladies in this neighbourhood, who are unmarried, and who, unless you bestir yourself, have every prospect of remaining

who have been teazing me to death to get them introduced, in a sly way as it were, to some of the sighing volunteers; but Lord! John, was there ever any thing more ridiculous than that? Very true, they assert that I have had more admirers than they, and that, of course, I must know how to get about the matter, but these admirers do not stay in a place like this. You know they came to see me from a great distance; and at any rate, how could I introduce the ladies to them, although they were at hand? 'Twould be so barefaced. But you, John, what would hinder you to make us visit, and bring a

La! John, you would be verily astonished at the number of ladies who go by the appellation of old maids in this quarter. Would you believe it ?—such is the spite of my acquaintances, (I mean my female ones,) that they allege I am on the borders of spinsterhood, and my two young-brace of swankies along with you? La! est sisters, saucy things, are casting the same in my teeth. Not to say that I value the name an old ribbon, or that I am ashamed of being a spinster. On the contrary, I think there is rather honour in it, than otherwise; for it requires no small degree of self-denial to stand out against the attacks of square-shouldered fellows, who are constantly sighing in one's ears,

you would get amusement. They might stay in our house, you know, and we two would watch every thing so nicely-and then we might have Miss Flora M'Donald, Miss Amelia Arabella Simpson, Miss Lucy Crabapple, anI Miss Lucinda Dulcinea Odoherty, every night to tea. Dear John, I can scarcely hold the pen with joy, when I think on the droll oglings of the

And your petitioner will ever pray:
BARBARA PATTISON."

men, and on the thousand killing glances the blessing of God, and through your ho-side looks-broad gazes-gigles-quirks nour's intercession, she begs that such reand capers, shot from the ladies. To at- conciliation be made between her, the pe-.. tempt getting up a batch of marriages you titioner, and Alexander Pattison, her lawknow would be no plan of ours; but if ful husband, such a thing did happen, let poor silly she who is caught, bear the consequences.Again, if any of the ladies get disgusted, (as I have often been) with the sighing and languishing of the gentlemen, so much the better they will be so many saved from fetters. Now, dear Johnny, write me if you will do this. The sporting season is on, and that will be a good excuse for a country visit from you and your friends. It will go hard if we don't get sport within doors as well as in the fields.

The humble petition of BARBARA PATTISON to JOHN M'ARTHUR, Esq. humbly showeth,

That your petitioner is the wife of Alexander Pattison, farmer in Kirkintilloch-that she hath been married to the said Alexander Pattison fourteen yearsthat, during the whole of that period, till of late, she hath lived with him in loving kindness-that in testimony thereof she hath borne him ten children-and that eight of these said children are daughters; and that she hath, on two sundry occasions, blessed him with twins. Moreover, that she hath, at all times, behaved like a good, quiet, orderly wife, seldom quarrelling with her husband, the said Alexander Pattison, except when he got drunk at christenings and burials.

TO MR. M'ARTHUR, ESQ. 1.
HONORRED CUR,

'Hiving hard ass how u restituted the, onest womand, Barbary Pattizon, to hur spouze, i hops u will endivur to restitute mi own wive to mee, fur she has runned awai from mee, becaise I gived hur a bit of a clink with a shelely, to poat hur in mind that i wauz her lurd and mister. ---Bi Saint Partick, she's a perfic divil, or į wud not hai dun it; however, i likes her veri well fur all that, and i finds that i cant carry on mi clothshope, in the Saltmarket, without hur. So, honorred cur, if u wud call on mi bruther-in-law, Duncan Connachy, that is her own brather, in the Briggate, and just tell hur to return acgane to her lurd and mister, becaise he he is going to use hur well in feutur, u will, oblige ure mech devotted servint,

FELIX DOUCHERTY.

I daresay the reader is a little surprised at these letters; but when Linform him of the circumstances, his wonder will cease. I have the mis-i fortune then to be exceedingly goodnatured; and from my boyhood never had the heart to refuse any human being a favour I could possibly grant. This quality has gone abroad, and has brought me in a legion of petitioners from all parts of the country and of every sex and condition. Every morn ing, in truth, my lobby is crowded, and i this is what my cousin impertinently calls my, levee of beggars,' It would be a task utterly endless, to tell you the number of cases which come under

Further, that the said Alexander Pattison, her lawful husband, hath of late changed his disposition towards her, Barbara Pattison, his lawful wife, and hath on one occasion, threatened to kick her-the which threat induced the said Barbara Pat- my benevolent review. I know not, in tison to quit the house of her lawful hus-heaven's name, what to do.' 'I am in band, and turn her back upon him-that a labyrinth from which it is impossible having ten children, she fears they will to contrive any escape. I frequently:: not receive proper usage and care at the bands of their lawful father-that, on this resolve to deny every favour that is asked of me; but the pretty faces of some, the eloquence of others, and

account, she wishes to return home again, and be reconciled to him-and that, with