THE FATAL RESTORATION. The ship was ready to start; the unfurled sails, filled by the gentle breeze, seemed to urge our departure, and to chide the tardy operations of the mariners; indeed, every thing appeared to combine in the promise of a pleasant and prosperous voyage. Having no friends to bewail my departure, and no kindred ties to bind me to England, which I had merely visited on business, I had been early in readiness at the vessel, and had leisure to survey the various groups around me: but my attention was chiefly arrested by an interesting couple, whose destinies were, by the wonderful links of fate, to become closely connected with mine. These were a young and beautiful female, with a fair infant in her arms, and a handsome and manly looking sailor, evidently her husband. Their hands were locked together in silent agony, and as the bitter tears coursed down her lovely cheeks, she pressed the unconscious babe closer to her throbbing bosom. Oh! how touching is the sight of "beauty in tears!" Though utterly unacquainted with them, my sympathies were strongly engaged in their behalf; and I strained my ears to catch their parting words.

"Dear Lavinia," said he, with a powerful struggle at firmness, and hastily brushing away a tell-tale tear, "I must now go; the boat is waiting. Nay, dearest, do not weep and cling to me thus: I shall soon return, and our happiness shall then be without alloy or interruption."

"Alas! dear Horace," sobbed she, with emotion, "I have fearful forebodings; and should they prove unfounded, still it will be such a long, long while before we shall meet again."

ters, for no two persons could be much more dissimilar. He was young, ardent, and enthusiastic, and had a spirit formed for daring and noble deeds. I, whom he thus honoured with his confidence and esteem, was, on the other hand, dull and unimaginative; though I possessed a feeling heart, and was always anxious to relieve distress whenever and wherever I found it, I had not one whit of romance in my composition. In one word, I was a bachelor. The chemical affinity, so to speak, which bound together such heterogenous bodies, is one of the mysteries of nature; but so it was, and we became bosom companions. I learned that his name was Manville, and that he had been married little more than a year to the lovely creature I had seen. He described to me in terms of glowing affection, his native village, and the cottage which contained his family, consisting solely of his loved wife, his child, and his widowed mother.

We had been out at sea several weeks, and had nearly reached our destination, filled with the most joyous expectations, when the weather suddenly changed, and the sweet smiles of the heavens were turned to threatening frowns. From the foreboding looks of the seamen, and the hurried orders of the captain, we were all filled with apprehension; and terror and dismay sat on the countenances of those, who, but a short time before had enjoyed the most eager anticipations. The storm raged still more fiercely, and the ship was tossed about at the mercy of the winds, and without control. The wretched crew gave up their efforts in despair, and each one thought only how he might secure himself. At length a terrible shock, which shivered our ship to atoms, showed that she had struck upon a rock. I was fortunate enough to be thrown upon the rock, but had barely time to grasp a timber, when the surges launched me forth again on the broad ocean, with no other support than the fragile beam I had so providentially been enabled to obtain. On looking around in search of my friend, nothing presented itself to my view but fragments of the wreck scattered in every direction, and though I strained my sight to the utmost, the envious waves prevented my obtaining even a last view of my companion. For several hours I was rolled about, strugWe had a delightful wind, and most plea-gling to maintain my support, until I was alsant weather; but for several days I saw most exhausted. How dreadful were my little of my afflicted fellow-passenger. As feelings, when I considered that the plank to the violence of his grief, however, abated, he which I so convulsively clung, was the only gradually became more communicative; and stay between me and a watery grave, and that in a short time we were very intimate. II was fast losing my power to keep that, as cannot tell what there was so peculiarly at- my limbs were already sore and powerless tractive about me, that he preferred my com- from over-exertion. pany to that of all others. Certainly, how- A sickness came over me, and I was on the ever, it was no resemblance in our charac-point of resigning myself in despair to my

The husband was completely unmanned, and lavishing tears and kisses on his wife and child, with a faintly whispered "adieu," he tore himself from her effectionate embrace, and in a few moments was on board the ship. The anchor was weighed, and the gallant ship moved proudly o'er the smooth water. He turned his ardent gaze to the land which contained all that was dear to him, till it was completely out of sight; and when nothing but the sky and water were visible, he rushed in agony to his birth.

fate, when I saw a sail at a distance. Over- had sped their rapid course since the untimejoyed at this prospect of assistance, my sink-ly fate of my friend. From being a tempoing energies immediately revived, and I ex-rary boarder, I had now become a permanent erted all my activity in urging myself towards it. After half an hour of painful exertion and suspense, I was delighted to find that I was perceived, and that they were endeavouring to relieve me from my perilous situation. As soon as I was taken on board, I swooned away, and when I recovered I was lying on a bed, unable to move. The ship proved to be an American, bound for England, and on my eager enquiries, I was informed that no other person had been picked up but me. Poor Horace Manville! he then was too certainly gone-cut off in all his youthful expectations, to be the food of fishes.

member of the family, and a stranger in the world, as I had been for so many years, I felt too dearly, the comforts of domestic life, to think of soon resigning them. Here then, in the bosom of this contented and amiable family, had my restless spirit found a home. My interest in the modest, pensive Lavinia, and her charming little boy, increased with my intimacy, and I felt grieved that all my offers at placing the family in that independence they so well deserved, should be refused. I represented to them my own abundanceshowed them that I had more indeed than I should ever use myself, and that the best use to which I could possibly apply it would be enriching them,—that their son deserved a better education than their limited means would possibly allow him-in short I used every argument, but to no purpose: they still firmly, though gently, rejected all my proffered

The storm still continued to rage, though with far less fury for several days; and after a tedious voyage, I was again set on the land I had last left. My first care after arrival, was to visit the residence of my friend, in order to communicate the sad intelligence of his death to his relatives as gently as possi-assistance, declaring themselves under too ble.

great obligations already, ever to be able to The village was beautifully situated on the pay me. Failing in every attempt of this sea coast of England, and from the direction kind, as a last resort, I gradually formed a I had received from my friend, I easily found resolution, which I doubt not my readers will the place, but when I reached the door of his have anticipated, namely, of offering myself, humble cottage, it was some time before I as well as my fortune, for the acceptance of could summon courage to knock. On enter- the still young and beautiful widow. An ocing, I discovered an old lady, whom I instinct-casion soon presented itself, and I took the ively recognised to be the mother. She was opportunity of making a formal proposal, reengaged in practicing the tottering steps of peating my desire of seeing her in easier cirher laughing grandchild-happy innocent-cumstances, and again urging the necessity how little conscious of his father's fate. Not- of affording her son the advantages of a good withstanding that I broke the tale of sorrow education. This argument had considerable as gradually as my skill allowed, she was weight as I soon discovered. I concluded by powerfully affected, and her screams soon entreating her not to refuse an offer which brought in the wife, the same blooming be- was prompted by the most sincere esteem. ing I have before attempted to describe. Her hand was in mine, and I watched her There ensued a scene of lamentation pain- earnestly for a reply. A blush rose to her fully afflicting to my feelings, and which, I cheek, and a tear trembled in her dark bright hope, I may never witness again. I blamed eye, as she answered with a smile, expressmyself for undertaking such an unpleasant ing her gratiude to me, and her entire wiltask. How much better would it have been, lingness, if it met with the approbation of to let them enjoy the "bliss of ignorance," Mrs. Manville-" for I feel that this is due (at least for the short time before the mournto him"-said she. I acknowledged the proful tidings became known,) than to become priety of this course, and immediately sothe instrument of inflicting so much misery licited her consent, which was joyfully given. on that deserving family. The day was fixed, and though, as I have beI frequently visited them, endeavouring to fore observed, by no means romantic, I must afford all the consolation in my power, and confess that I felt a thrill of pleasure when I though for a long time, their anguish ap- claimed the gentle Lavinia as my bride. My peared unabated, time, that great physician wife was the kindest of creatures, always of our woes, gradually reconciled them to striving to render me happy. If any human their lot. So great appeared their gratitude being had cause to be grateful to Heaven, to me for my poor efforts, that when I pro- that being was myself. We were cheered posed becoming a boarder with them for a with the lively and artless prattle of the acshort time, it was with difficulty that I could tive little Horace; (he inherited his unfortuprevail upon them to receive any compensa-nate father's name,) and my affection in this tion. interesting child daily increased. A cloud, Time flew swiftly on, and nearly two years however, for a while obscured our happiness

sect in all the northern and eastern conferences, as well as by the Wesleyan Methodists of England. The new arrangement will, it is thought, be productive of much convenience and comfort, especially to parents, who will be enabled to be seated with their families under their immediate charge.

Among the improvements now in progress || pewed churches are held by members of this in this city, not the least conspicuous is the Methodist Episcopal Church, called Trinity, on Eighth street, a short distance north of Race street, a spot recently occupied by a number of small frame dwellings, workshops, &c. The site is immediately south of the burial-ground of the German Lutheran Church, and backs on the rear of The Lecture Room is now finished, and the very handsome private dwellings lately was opened for divine worship, on the 22d of erected on Franklin street. The church will August, on which occasion an eloquent and be built in a neat and commodious manner, impressive discourse was delivered by the and will prove an important ornament to the pastor in charge, to a very respectable conneighbourhood. It will be 64 feet front, gregation-not so large, however, as it would by 85 feet in depth. The style is Grecian, have been, but for the inclemency of the weawith two heavy columns in front, and corres- ther. The room is handsomely furnished ponding ante. The basement is elevated with settees, instead of the ordinary uncomtwenty-seven inches above the curb stone, fortable benches, and families are permitted and is nine feet four inches in height, and to sit together, an arrangement different from divided into rooms for classes, lectures, and that in other Methodist Churches. The Lecschools. The entrance to the Church floor ture Room is elevated nearly two feet above will be from the vestibule of the basement, by the street pavement, and, having the advantwo large stairways in the centre, and two less-tage of an open lot on the north, will doubter ones at each extremity under the flight leading to the gallery. The interior will be finished in a neat and chaste manner, and without unnecessary ornament. The pulpit will be enriched by two Grecian Ionic columns The new society is regularly attached to and antæ, and the galleries will be trussed so the Philadelphia Conference, and in all reas to require but one small cast iron column spects will be governed by the discipline of each, thus affording an almost unobstructed the Methodist Episcopal Church. The Rev. view, and being at the same time perfectly J. Kennaday, a gentleman of superior talents, secure. In all respects, therefore, it is be- and distinguished not less for unaffected piety lieved that this edifice will rival in neatness than for eminent ability as a pulpit orator, and beauty the most handsome house of wor-is now the pastor. ship in our city.

Unlike other Methodist Episcopal churches here, Trinity Church will be furnished with pews. This is an innovation on the usages of the Methodists of Philadelphia, although

less be found an airy and comfortable place of worship. The work on the main building is proceeding rapidly, and will be completed, it is expected, in the course of the fall.

The stock is divided into shares of $100 each, bearing an interest of 6 per cent. per annum from the first of January next, and redeemable in five years, or sooner, at the pleasure of the Board of Trustees.

DEATH IN THE SCHOOL-ROOM.

A FACT.

Ting-a-ling-ling-ling!-went the little bell on the teacher's desk of a village-school one morning, when the studies of the earlier part of the day were about half completed. It was well understood that this was a command for silence and attention; and when these had been obtained, the master spoke. He was a low thick-set man, and his name was Lugare.

"Boys," said he, “I have had a complaint entered, that last night some of you were stealing fruit from Mr. Nichol's garden. I rather think I know the thief. Tim Barker, step up here, sir."

The youngster's face paled a little; his lip quivered, but he did not speak.

"And pray, sir," continued Lugare, as the outward signs of wrath disappeared from his features, "what were you about the garden for? Perhaps you only received the plunder, ||and had an accomplice to do the more dangerous part of the job?"

"I went that way because it is on my road home. I was there again afterwards to meet an acquaintance; and-and- But I did not go into the garden, nor take anything away from it. I would not steal-hardly to save myself from starving.'

Like fire itself glowed the face of the detected lad. He spoke not a word. All the school had their eyes directed at him. The perspiration ran down his white forehead like rain-drops.

66

Speak, sir!" exclaimed Lugare, with a loud strike of his rattan on the desk.

"You had better have stuck to that last evening. You were seen, Tim Barker, to come from under Mr. Nichol's garden-fence, The one to whom he spoke came forward. a little after nine o'clock, with a bag full of He was a slight, fair-looking boy, of about something or other, over your shoulders. The fourteen; and his face had a laughing, good bag had the appearance of being filled with humoured expression, which even the charge || fruit, and this morning the melon-beds are now preferred against him, and the stern tone found to have been completely cleared. Now, and threatening look of the teacher, had not sir, what was there in that bag?" entirely dissipated. The countenance of the boy, however, was too unearthly fair for health; it had, notwithstanding its fleshy, cheerful look, a singular cast, as if some inward disease, and that a fearful one, were seated within. As the stripling stood before that place of judgment, that place, so often made the scene of heartless and coarse brutality, of timid innocence confused, help. less childhood outraged, and gentle feelings crushed-Lugare looked at him with a frown, which plainly told that he felt in no very pleasant mood. Happily, a worthier and more philosophical system is proving to men that schools can be better governed, than by lashes, and tears, and sighs. We are waxing toward that consummation when one of the old-fashioned school-masters, with his cowhide, his birch-rod, and his many ingenious methods of child torture, will be gazed upon as a scorned memento of an ignorant, cruel, and exploded doctrine. May propitious gales speed that day!

"Were you by Mr. Nichol's garden fence last night?" said Lugare.

"Yes, sir," said the boy, "I was." "Well, sir, I'm glad to find you so ready with your confession. And you thought you could do a little robbing, and enjoy yourself in a manner you ought to be ashamed to own, without being punished, did you?"

"I have not been robbing," replied the boy, quickly. His face was suffused, whether with resentment or fright, it was difficult to tell. "And I didn't do anything last night, that I'm ashamed to own."

The boy looked as though he would faint. But the unmerciful teacher, confident of having brought to light a criminal, and exulting in the idea of the severe chastisement he should now be justified in inflicting, kept working himself up to a still greater and greater degree of passion. In the meantime, the child seemed hardly to know what to do with himself. His tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth. Either he was very much frightened, or he was actually unwell.

"Speak, I say!" again thundered Lugare; and his hand, grasping his rattan, towered above his head in a very significant manner.

"I hardly can, sir," said the poor fellow, faintly. His voice was husky and thick. "I will tell you some—some other time. Please to let me go to my seat-I a'n't well."

"Oh, yes; that's very likely," and Mr. Lugare bulged out his nose and cheeks with contempt. "Do you think to make me believe your lies? I've found you out, sir, plainly enough: and I am satisfied that you are as precious a little villain as there is in the State. But I will postpone settling with you for an hour yet. I shall then call you up again; and if you don't tell the whole truth then, I will give you something that'll make you remember Mr. Nichol's melons for many a month to come-go to your seat."

"No impudence!" exclaimed the teacher, passionately, as he grasped a long and heavy Glad enough of the ungracious permission, rattan; "give me none of your sharp speeches, || and answering not a word, the child crept or I'll thrash you till you beg like a dog." tremblingly to his bench. He felt very