within all was anarchy and confusion. She was about to kneel before God's altar, and to commit a great crime, by vowing to love one man when another was idolized in her heart. This terrible thought pursued her sleeping and waking with persevering tenacity, and dark fears of insanity troubled her brain. At length nature gave way under these fearful mental struggles, and a violent brain fever reduced her to the brink of the grave.

Arthur watched the turns of her disorder in an agony of mind not to be described. He prayed and watched, and watched and prayed, morning, noon, and night, unweariedly, till the fearful crisis arrived, and then mute, motionless, and cold as a statue, he awaited the sentence of life or death from the physician. Life was the joyful word proclaimed throughout the house, and Arthur's gratitude to Heaven equalled what his grief had been. Slowly and gradually the invalid recovered, and, with returning consciousness and health, there came to her a happier tone of mind. The image of

Edward Ellis seemed as a bygone vision which had charmed her in dreams too delightful for reality; and when she looked around on her pious, venerable father, her fond mother and devoted lover, she inwardly resolved to make their happiness her sole study. She listened. with redoubled attention to the divine precepts which Arthur loved to pour into her ear, and because she admired them, she fancied that her heart was entirely imbued with their spirit.

At length her wedding day arrived-and simply, but tastefully attired, and leaning on the arm of her much-loved father, whose eyes ran over with proud delight, she entered the humble village church and approached the altar. Arthur received her there with calm seriousness; his love for her was too deep for joyfulness,-it more nearly resembled sadness, and when with a clear, audible voice she pronounced the vows and became irrevocably his own, he felt as if such bliss could not last, but must dissolve away as a dream.

With fond pride Arthur took home his bride to the cottage which he had adorned for her with the most refined taste. Everything within and without bespoke the elegance of the owner's mind; and the pleasure with which she examined everything, and the expressive looks with which she thanked him, more than compensated him for his expense and trouble.

Hannah soon regained all her former beauty, but notwithstanding the soothing tenderness of her husband and the watchful love of her parents, her countenance resumed not its wonted expression of joyfulness.

She felt that Providence had dealt most mer cifully with her, in uniting her fate with that of one so holy, so loving, so gentle as Arthur Travers. The sacrifice had seemed to her severe at the time, but her resigned heart had long ceased to murmur, or to see anything but a blessing in the dispensation.

Arthur Travers often grieved in secret over the calm indifference of his wife's manner towards him; loving her as he did, how could

he endure the thought that the only feeling in her bosom towards him was that of cold

esteem; but still he trusted that time and unwearied tenderness would at last win a warmer regard from her.

The curate's cottage was admired by every one. Hannah loved flowers and birds, and her aviary and flower-garden were supplied with the choicest novelties by her neigbours far and near, for the whole country around esteemed Arthur, and the fame of his wife's surpassing beauty and gentle virtues brought many a proud equipage to her humble gate, and she received. her distinguished visitors with a soft grace, and innate dignity, which charmed them as much as her beauty surprised them. At length Autumn returned again, and one evening Hannah and her husband strolled far up a high wooded hill behind their cottage, which overlooked the turnpike road. Pausing at length, and turning round, they contemplated in silence the panoramic view, and the winding river, steeped in sunlight. Suddenly their attention was arrested

by the sound of wheels on the high-road, and presently a curricle came in view, the horses of which galloped with fearful rapidity down a steep hill. A gentleman sat in it, and the reins had evidently escaped from his hands, whilst the scared horses ran madly on. The traveller raised his head on hearing the exclamations of the terrified Travers, and revealed the well-remembered features and noble outline of Edward Ellis. At this unexpected sight Hannah fainted, and Arthur, placing her gently on the grass, watched his friend's imminent peril with breathless anxiety. At length the horses ran furiously against a high bank, and overturned the curricle; then, as if suddenly appeased, they stood quietly. In the mean time a neighbouring cottager's wife had taken charge of the insensible Hannah, and Travers hurried to the spot where his friend lay motionless. Assistance was speedily summoned, and Ellis was conveyed to the curate's house, and placed on a couch, when it was ascertained that his leg was broken, but he was in other