she ceased to breathe. Her ransomed spirit took its flight to the world beyond the skies, leaving her friends to mourn, as well they might, a loss that was irreparable.

It was long ere James was enabled to submit, patiently, to the trial occasioned by the removal from earth of his two dearest earthly friends. Still he was unacquainted with the thrilling facts connected with the sickness and death of Rebecca. None felt willing to rehearse the faults of the father to this son; and he never knew more upon this unpleasant subject than that this parent for a time opposed her cultivating an acquaintance with Henry. Now, he rejoiced in view of the fact that one so deserving as Henry, was likely, for the future, to make one of their domestic circle.

He was aware that a change had been wrought in the views and feelings of his father, yet dreamed not of the means by which it had been accomplished.

At different times, James mentioned circumstances relative to what occurred during his afflicting absence from his friends, from which they gathered enough to form an outline of the history of that eventful period in his life.

From some cause, he ever shrunk from going into detail in describing his sufferings while in prison, for he would gladly have had these distressing recollections blotted from the page of his memory forever. His friends forbore to question him upon this painful subject, yet they learned that he had been subjected to the most cruel treatment at the hands of the Turks-that the prison in which he had been incarcerated was one of the most loathsome-that he had suffered for want of food and of pure water, but most

of all, from fear lest he should suddenly be dragged forth from his imprisonment, to be executed in some torturing

manner.

His unfeeling foes seemed to delight themselves in keeping him constantly in racking suspense, in regard to the measures that were to be adopted by their government concerning himself and the other unfortunate victims of their cruelty. His jailer informed him, soon after his incarceration in the gloomy place where he spent many wearisome months, that a rumor had reached the Sultan that his father was wealthy, and it was very probable that for this reason he would not be put to death.

This intelligence did not allay the fears of James that he might die a cruel death, inflicted by these merciless tyrants; still, it afforded a gleam of hope that he might possibly be set free from bondage. His joy, as will be supposed, was unbounded, when information was brought him, while yet in prison, that his father had ransomed him from his dreadful situation; and when he found himself in reality at liberty to walk abroad and inhale the pure air of heaven, he could scarcely realize that he was not dreaming.

Unmingled emotions of pleasure pervaded his mind while on his way home, until his fears were aroused by seeing a light from the window of his mother's room.

James often, after the occurrence of these events, affirmed that he felt that it was well his dream of earthly bliss was at this time broken by disappointment at finding so great a change at home, for if it had been otherwise, he should have been satisfied with earth, and allowed his affections to remain wedded to perishable objects.

Now he was induced, by every loved consideration, to live constantly in a state of preparation for a brighter world than this.

Not many months after the death of Mrs. Dunbar, Henry and Jane were united in wedlock. James took the place of his father in business, so far as to release the old gentleman from most of his cares; still, as the love of gold was not quite extinguished in the breast of this individual, he could not forego the pleasure afforded by striv ing, even in advanced life, to heap up riches for the sake of possessing them.

Henry and Jane remained in the same family with Mr. Dunbar and James; and the father even urged Henry to engage in business with himself and James. He did so; and this family long dwelt in comparative happiness together. A shade of gloom, however, was cast around their dwelling, at times, by the moodiness of the father; for his natural disposition was never entirely subdued. But it is hoped that his example, and the unhappy consequences of his conduct, will long serve as a beacon to others, who like him are disposed to indulge the sin of avarice.

It is believed that the influence of Mrs. Dunbar and her lovely daughter, was a blessing, as far as it was felt. Many were the friends who referred to their example, as a guide that might safely be followed.

CHAPTER XV.

Mrs. Nelson · Simon and Benjamin · ·Death of Mrs. Nelson Mr. Dalby Unfortunate Abby.

It will be recollected by the reader, that when Mrs. Nelson was last mentioned, she was enjoying the society of a friend who ardently desired to have the noble faculties of her unfortunate sister employed in the pursuit of better objects than they had been hitherto.

Mrs. Nelson, she was aware, had been chastened, and doubtless the design of her trials had been her improvement; still, as she had ever perverted the end for which they were designed, Mrs. Coleman wished to make her feel that she was under obligations to do all in her power to make some little amends for her past neglect of duty.

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This excellent lady was continually urging Mrs. Nelson to erect a higher standard of duty, and to aim constantly to reach it. Do not,' she would often say to her sister, consume so much time in musing upon the past. Wherein you have failed in respect to duty, resolve in future to do differently; you cannot alter what has taken place, and it only aggravates trouble to dwell upon it needlessly.'

About this time the only remaining son of Mrs. Nelson who went abroad upon business, was one day accosted by a stranger, while passing through the street of a distant

The young

city, who familiarly called him by name. gentleman, surprised at the salutation, said to the person who addressed him, 'You have the advantage of me, sir, for I do not recollect ever having seen you.'

'Is not your name Simon Savage?' inquired the stranger.

'Not Simon, though you have judged rightly in regard to my other name; but where,' asked the young man, anxiously, 'did you ever meet with Simon Savage?'

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I knew him,' replied the gentleman, in this city, some years ago. He sailed out of this port in a ship bound to the Pacific ocean; but as neither the vessel, nor any one on board of her has ever been heard from, it has long been supposed that she must have sunk at sea, and her crew all have found a grave in the ocean. You may

think I was not a little surprised,' continued he, "at meeting you here. Was Simon Savage your brother? you certainly bear a very strong resemblance to that young gentleman?'

'I had a brother of that name,' answered the young Mr. Savage, and from the circumstances under which he left home, I am led to suppose it was he with whom you were acquainted. My brother has been absent many years, and his friends have not been able to learn anything respecting his probable fate; but from what you have just related, I presume it may safely be infered that he long since found a watery grave.'

The gentleman with whom he was conversing, having a feeling heart, seemed to regret that he had unconsciously been the means of giving a fellow-being pain, and expressed this feeling to the young man.

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