with no small pleasure to his mother the next morning to deliver the ten-pound note; but she had by degrees sunk into so unhappy a state, that even a present and a kind message from Robert scarcely gave her a sensation of pleasure. She had always been of a selfish disposition, and now nothing could call her attention even for an hour from her own sufferings. The poor girl who took care of her, heard of nothing ́else from morning till night; and to Charles her complaints were mingled with reproaches for his want of skill to remove the cause of them. This excellent young man bore all with the greatest mildness: the more unreasonable she was, the more he pitied her and exerted himself for her relief:-a cure he did not hope for, but he left nothing in his power undone that could contribute to her ease and comfort; and his good master insisted upon furnishing all the medicines that were given her, free of expense. Nor was this all; Mrs. Stanley, who I have before said was a worthy woman, often visited her, taking jellies and other nourishing things, which, had Susan Waring been of a good and grateful disposition, must have given her much comfort: but she scarcely thanked her for this kind notice; teased her with a constant repetition of her complaints; and when she kindly tried to console her present afflictions, by reminding her of the happy change which awaits the real Christian beyond the grave, she would grow impatient, and tell her that her spirits were too weak to bear the thoughts of death. Often, indeed, had her excellent son endeavoured to lead her mind to that only sure refuge from the calamities of this world, the hope of a glorious eternity in the next; but always in vain:-while in health, her heart had been a stranger to God, and devoted to the low pursuits of this passing scene; and how should she now break through the habits of many years, when her body and mind were impaired by a cruel

E

disease? how could she hope to find comfort and consolation in Him, of whom in her youth and health she had never thought; whose written word she scarcely deemed worth a perusal, and whose sacred and holy laws she had continually broken! It could not be! She had laid up none of those precious cordials for sickness and old age, which the recollections of a well-spent life never fail to furnish: she had cast no "bread upon the waters," and now, in the days of her necessity, how could she hope to find it?

Her wretched state of mind gave inexpressible concern to her dutiful and pious son: he wished to talk to her of God's mercy to the truly penitent; but she always stopped him with reproaches, calling him cruel, and saying that he could have no wish but to kill her, by putting her in mind of her sins now that it was too late to help them. Poor Charles always left her with a heavy heart, yet he was not without consolation in his grief; the cheering reflection that he had, notwithstanding all discouragements, unceasingly performed his duty towards this unhappy parent, and his resolution still to persevere, poured balm upon his wounded mind. When we are conscious that we have in sincerity and with diligence endeavoured to do our part, how entirely, and with what filial confidence, can we 66 cast all our care upon God," knowing that he "careth for us!"

When the end of the month approached, Charles looked forward with impatience to the day when he was again to see his brother, hoping to find him in the same disposition as he appeared when they last parted, and intending to propose their meeting in future more frequently, which he now thought would be as agreeable to Robert as it would always have been to himself. These ideas were uppermost in his mind, when one morning, as he was returning home

from visiting a patient, a letter was put into his hand: he perceived that it came from Robert, and with much surprise that the post mark was Carlisle: -stepping into a small parlour behind the shop he opened it, and read as follows:

"Dear Charles,

"The deed is done, and my fortune made. I am now on my return from Scotland, whither I carried Miss Hammond full speed in a chaise-and-four, to put me into possession of herself and her fortune such as it is at present; for, as I told you, the precious ten thousand pounds is not to be mine for a year to come. Now I know this charming news will put you into a terrible passion! You and I have always differed in our notions; you were for doing what was right, and I for what was pleasant: now mark which succeeds the best; I am married to a rich heiress, am on the road to London, where I shall have a handsome house, a stud of horses, a carriage, liveryservants, and every thing that denotes a gentleman; while you are a poor journeyman apothecary, maintaining your mother, and laying by money upon forty guineas a year! I always told you that luck would carry me well through the world, without much trouble on my own part. I was horribly alarmed, though, the last time we met; for I saw plainly that if I had not cleverly turned about, and persuaded you that I was a pattern of honour and honesty, all would have been over with my match; you would have prevented me from carrying of Mr. Hammond's niece, as effectually as you once did his

money.

"But the chief reason of my writing to you at this time, is to beg of you, dear Charles, not to say a word of your relationship to me to any one who does not know it already, or, for the world, to go near Mr. Hammond, whose favour I now want more than ever; for my aim is to get into partner

ship with him, which will secure me a large income, and, as I can employ others to do the chief part of the business, give me little trouble. Unless this can be brought about, you will not expect me to furnish you with any more money, at least till my wife comes of age; for till then we must principally live upon borrowing, and I have a few debts to begin with.

"Farewell! Do not write to me till your anger is over, and then direct to No. 24, St. James's Street, Westminster.

"Yours affectionately,

"ROBERT WARING."

I will not attempt to describe the feelings of Charles during the perusal of this letter: they were a heart-rending mixture of grief and indignation, each so acute, and together so exquisitely painful, as to be nearly insupportable. At length, clasping his hands together, he exclaimed,-"The deed is indeed done, which proclaims thee decidedly a villain. Ungrateful! Deceitful! Can there be words more expressive of all that is hateful and contemptible? Selfish and unfeeling I had always too much reason to know thee; but of an action like this I did not believe thee capable."

After again reading the letter, which, by the careless levity with which it was written, added to his disgust on a second perusal, he hurried up to his own room, and in some degree relieved his full heart by writing the following answer:

"I have read your letter, and it has given me pangs, of which you, who feel only for yourself, can form no idea. What must the heart of that man be, who for benefits and favours innumerable returns cruel injuries! Ask yourself whether an grateful, hypocritical deceiver is not a villain?and can you endure to feel yourself justly entitled

to so detestable a character? Can any thing make you amends for the misery of knowing that it has been earned by your base ungenerous conduct to one who took you from a state of ignorance and comparative poverty, and fostered you in his bosom with all the tenderness of a father!

"Vain as you seem to be of your present situation, believe me, I would rather exchange conditions with the most wretched object who solicits alms in the streets, if is he an honest man, than with you. No prospect of riches or grandeur can heal the wounds of a guilty conscience! But supposing these may be quieted for a time by the pleasures, as you call them, of a dissipated life, I do not think you can long have the power of continuing even these paltry enjoyments. You will considerably lessen your wife's fortune before it comes into your hands, and I think your conduct must have cut off all hope of a partnership with her uncle. Even in a worldly point of view, you have probably ruined yourself; for who will receive a second time into his confidence a man who has deceived him! Do you not tremble at the solemn denunciation of Scripture, which says, "The hope of the hypocrite shall perish?"

"You have nothing to fear from me; every wish of my heart respecting you has hitherto been to do you good: my desires are still the same, but I have lost all present hope. While you continue prosperous and unchanged, I neither desire to see or hear from you; but should a gracious Providence mercifully visit you with such afflictions as dispose you to "arise and go to your Father," with an humble and truly penitent heart; then I will again remember that I have a brother, and open my heart and arms to receive him. With truth and sincerity I subscribe myself, now and ever,

"Your ardent well-wisher,

"CHARLES WARING."