cursion, from which he augured the most salutary effects to those whose health and happiness were dearer to him than his own.

It was the finest season that had ever been remembered in the month of August, when Colonel and Lady Olivia Neville, with their only remaining child, set out in a light open phaeton, on their journey to Ross-shire. The clear blue sky was unclouded over their heads, the fields were covered with the luxuriant harvest, and the whole scene through which they passed was bathed in the richest tints of autumn. All was cheerfulness and beauty as they passed along inhaling the pure gales of the morning or basking in the glories of the evening sun-set. The smiling villages stretched along the road, the gleaners scattered upon the fields in groups, the school-boys shouting in noisy glee, the children nutting in the woods, the sportsman surrounded by his dogs, and the fisherman plying his patient vocation, all called forth the sympathy of Lady Olivia who was ever ready to participate in the feelings of others, while her exquisite taste for the charms of nature never allowed her to be satiated with admiring each bold romantic scene which successively presented itself before her. The rugged mountains varied to their very summits with rocks and heather, the golden blossoms of the furze adorning the valleys, the scarlet berries of the mountain ash, the deep red tints of the beech and the oak relieved against the pale bright hue of the plane, the silver stems of the birch, and the dark fantastic forms of the fir-tree, gave altogether a magic variety of colouring to the scenery, the bright mountain torrents dashing rapidly over their pebbly beds, tinged with so bright a yellow that every stone took the tint of a cairngorum, the willow and "the ladye of the woods" dipping their long festoons into the stream, and the large deep Highland lochs, in which the craggy mountains and the drooping coppice were reflected as in a mirror, and the heron and the

wild deer might rest in security amidst the solitude of nature. Such scenes as these called forth Lady Olivia's thoughts from the sorrow that had so long corroded within her breast, and she rewarded the anxious solicitude of Colonel Neville by an appearance of returning serenity, and by at least concealing from him much of the sorrow she could not entirely conquer. At each place where they stopped, some glen was to be explored, or some landscape of more than usual loveliness. to be seen from the neighbouring eminences, to which Colonel Neville delighted to conduct her, and whatever he proposed to promote her restoration, she unhesitatingly complied with, and seconded by her own efforts and prayers. He conversed with her often on the pleasures and duties which might still be sources of happiness to them both, and exercised all the ingenuity which tenderness and sympathy could suggest, in reminding her, that though much had been taken, still much remained to bless them both; and that no affliction could leave them utterly comfortless, while they had the mournful privilege of sharing it together. In leading Lady Olivia to look abroad on the loveliness of nature, where the majestic glories of creation were displayed in rich profusion before her, Colonel Neville remarked, how infinite was the condescension of its Almighty Lord in revealing Himself to her as one who pitied her sorrows, even as a Father pitieth his children, and that thus, the very tenderness with which she mourned for her own offspring, showed more affectingly the beauty and the expressiveness of that consoling assurance.

All the sensibility of Lady Olivia's heart was soothed by the consciousness of her husband's considerate affection, and the returning health of their interesting Laura became a continual source of pleasure to her parents, so that, as they approached the cottage of Colonel Neville, perfect serenity and peace appeared to have been restored to their hearts, and they both felt that in their mutual affection and in the

love of God, they had a secure foundation for happiness, which the storms of life might shake but never could destroy.

A long precipitous hill led towards the gate of GlenAlpine Cottage, so steep and rugged as to be often considered dangerous, though it had never occasioned any serious accident. On the evening that they reached the gate, night was fast closing in, and their servant being impatient to arrive omitted to stop the carriage and put a drag on the wheels, which Colonel Neville did not remark till he had proceeded a considerable way down, after which it was impossible to stop their descent. The horses slipped and scrambled for a considerable way, till at length the road suddenly took a sharp turn, the carriage went off the track, and in an instant more their equipage was upset and the whole party scattered over a bank beneath.

Colonel Neville, though he had met with a violent contusion on the head which stunned him for some time, was the first to recover consciousness, and having ascertained that Lady Olivia was severely hurt, he became unmindful of every thing but the safety of his family, and overlooking his own sufferings entirely, he hastened to the lodge, which was still nearly a mile distant, to spread the alarm and to bring immediate assistance. A crowd was speedily assembled from the village who accompanied him to the fatal spot, where Lady Olivia was still.completely insensible, and as her shoulder seemed to be dislocated, his first care was to have her conveyed on a shutter to the nearest house. Colonel Neville then anxiously turned to the place where his daughter had been cast. The country people and servants stood in a silent group round the spot where she lay, and when they observed him approaching, a momentary effort was made to impede his progress, but the agitated father, alarmed at their looks of grief and consternation, broke through the assembled multitude, and gazed upon the face

C

of his child-she was a corpse-her head had evidently been dashed with violence against the trunk of a tree, and she seemed to have instantly expired.

With a groan of agony, Colonel Neville sunk upon the

ground, and clasping his daughter in his arms, he became nearly as lifeless as herself. The stillness of death reigned among the sympathizing spectators, and nothing awoke him from a stupor of overwhelming grief, till the sudden remembrance of Lady Olivia's precarious situation roused up the manly energy of his character. By a powerful effort he stifled his agony, and reflected how much must be done to screen the worst from her knowledge, till she was prepared for the blow; and in silent but bitter anguish Colonel Neville withdrew from the scene of his misfortune, and placed himself beside the couch of his suffering wife, resolved that no tongue but his own should reveal to her the last and greatest of all her bereavements. Night and day he watched with fervent anxiety beside her pillow, fearful lest some imprudent attendant, or some accidental circumstance might prematurely disclose it all, and dreading, yet almost longing for the moment when their tears should be mingled together, and he might give vent to the deep tide of sorrow that had so nearly overpowered him,

At length all danger of fever seemed to be at an end. Lady Olivia's pulse became regular, her pain subsided, and Colonel Neville was informed that the hour had come when it might be prudent, as well as necessary, to tell the anxious mother that she was childless. Then was the time when his courage failed and his heart sunk, for he was called on to communicate to another the blow which had stunned and overwhelmed himself. The struggle for composure and fortitude was long and severe, till at length bodily exhaustion, combined with mental anguish, brought on a brain fever, of which in a few days he expired.

We must draw a veil over many years, during which

the bereaved wife and mother was buried in unapproachable sorrow, while her tears would have incessantly flowed, but for the rich consolations that were still poured into her breast by the hand that is strong to smite, but omnipotent to save. There was a gulph into which she dared not look, for every past scene of happiness appeared now rising up like a scorpion to sting her, and every future hour of life was darkened down to naked waste. "If in this life only we had hope, I should be of all beings the most miserable," was the continual reflection of her heart, while she struggled to fix her thoughts on the bright scene of futurity. "Is there any sorrow like unto my sorrow?" was the language of nature, for her soul was wrung with bitter remembrance of former joys; but still, like the patriarch of old, she could say, "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him."

Lady Olivia Neville had never before mourned alone, but now the eye which had watched over her with deepest sympathy, was closed for ever, the hand which had so tenderly dried up her tears, was cold in the grave,—the tongue that had spoken words of holy hope and pious consolation, was never to be heard again. "But, oh! the thought that he is safe!"-that was what first enabled Lady Olivia to contemplate the past and the future with composure. "I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me! A few short years of evil past, and death-divided friends shall meet to part no more."

It is in so dark a night of desolation as had gathered around Lady Olivia Neville, that the bright star of heavenly promise shines with redoubled lustre, and seems to point our way towards the Saviour, who veiled His glory in an earthly form, that He might teach us how to suffer, and where to seek for help. She meditated on His agonies till her own appeared to become lightened, she remembered the sympathy He has promised to His afflicted children,