Mr. J is not a confirmed inebriate, you know, and there is no reason to despair of his forsaking this course of folly. He only resorts to the exhilarating draught when his spirits are depressed. He has little fortitude to enable him to endure the various perplexities which attend us in our pathway through life, and needs cheering and encouraging. O! I cannot give him up yet, I must intercede for him not only with you, who have it in your power, I think, to reclaim the wanderer, but also with that God who has all hearts in His hand, and is able to accomplish all things.'

Mrs. Johnson was unmoved by all that her friend could say in regard to freeing herself from her companion. She had decided, and remained firm to her purpose of procuring a divorce. This was easily accomplished, and Mrs. Johnson rejoiced in the idea that now if he ever came near her, she could tell him he was no longer allied to her.

Soon after this transpired, this unfortunate lady was introduced to a gentleman of highly respectable character, and accomplished exterior. He was considered very handsome and genteel, and his presence was always welcome in the circle of the polite and fashionable.

He was very much pleased with Mrs. J, and very soon after their first introduction, requested permission to visit her. This was readily granted by the lady, and in a short time he became a frequent visiter at her house. No one, however, ever dreamed that he had an idea of marrying Mrs. Johnson, until it was announced that they intended marriage.

The children of Mrs. Johnson felt mortified at the step

which their mother had taken. Loraine was absent, and did not know of it until some time after they were united; for married they would be, in spite of all remonstrances on the part of friends interested for both parties. It was justly feared that the most unpleasant consequences might follow a union of two persons where existed so great a disparity in years, as there was between Mr. Nelson and Mrs. Johnson.

Benjamin declared that he could never brook the contemptuous inuendoes of those whose ill-breeding led them to sneer at the subject of his mother's unwise marriage, in his presence, as he was often forced to, and therefore he intended leaving the place, and seeking some spot where he should never again be annoyed by the unwelcome subject.

Mrs. Nelson, as we must hereafter call this lady, entreated her son to remain near her. She mourned at the thought of a separation from him whom she had ever trusted, confidently, would have remained near to solace her by assisting in taking care of her children, and by superintending their education. But all she could say to Benjamin was in vain. He told her he regretted having been banished as it were from his home; but he never could nor would be obliged to come in contact with a person for whom he entertained so little respect as he did for Mr. Nelson. He was aware that no sin had been committed, he said, yet felt that his mother had acted foolishly, and brought reproach upon her family, in the minds of the most of her acquaintance; and added, 'I am resolved to leave the scene of mortification as soon as pos

sible.' He did so; and his mother could not but regret that in this instance she had not listened to the advice of those who were qualified to counsel her.

She became dejected, and as year after year passed, and Benjamin expressed no intention of returning, she could not forgive herself for the evil she had done. She did not sink, however, under the weight of self-reproach she endured, but was supported by the counsels of Christian friends, who felt that although she had erred, she was still entitled to the sympathy of such as could lead her thoughts above this fascinating and sinful world.

One such friend Mrs. Nelson possessed, in a lady who had been early left a widow, and could in many respects sympathise with her. This lady had a daughter named Lucy, who was a companion of Salina, the daughter of Mrs. Nelson, and they had often conversed together concerning the similarity in the dispositions of her and Benjamin.

No event could have been so productive of happiness to Benjamin's mother as the union of her son with a young lady possessing a character like Lucy's. And as we think it would be refreshing to the mind of the reader to dwell upon what is lovely in the moral world, for a short time at least, we shall give the history of Lucy, as she was closely connected with the Weldron family. What we relate respecting her was told us by an aged relative of the young lady.

Said this friend, I love in fancy to revisit those scenes with which a recollection of this amiable lady is associated.

'From her earliest infancy she was lovely, a child of the fairest promise. Well do I remember the thrilling

expression of her dark, blue eyes, and that sweet smile which ever beamed from her serene countenance.

'Her complexion was fair, and her cheek resembled the lovely tint of the blushing rose. Her hair, which was of a light brown, grew in great luxuriance, and hung in glossy ringlets around a forehead of snowy whiteness. Her slender form was faultless, to which a charm was lent by the gracefulness of all her motions, which attracted the admiring gaze of all who beheld her. Yet, strange as it may appear, with all these charms, she was unconscious of her beauty, and vanity seemed to have no lodgment in her heart.

'Her personal attractions but reflected the exquisite sweetness of her gentle soul. Rarely do we meet with one whose character portrays so much meekness and humility. Lucy was the eldest daughter of parents who strove to impress upon her mind a sense of the superiority of mental and moral worth, when compared with mere external loveliness. Nor were their attempts unsuccessful, for they ever regarded their beloved Lucy as a most dutiful child.

Lucy's father died before she had attained the age of twelve years. Her mother was left with six children, of which the oldest was a son of fourteen. This amiable girl, though she greatly mourned the loss of her dear father, tried by every means in her power to alleviate the sorrow of her widowed mother, who was left in the most delicate state of health, with the pecuniary affairs of her lamented husband in a perplexed condition.

Lucy, with a maturity of judgment surprising to all, studied, from day to day, how she might most lighten the

burden of her mother's cares. She was ever mindful of the wants of the younger children, to whom she paid every attention, in order to keep them as much as possible from annoying their mother.

6 A few months after the death of Lucy's father, a little sister was born, which added greatly to the interest of the family circle an event that called forth traits in the character of Lucy which shone with peculiar lustre. She often mentioned, with tears in her eyes, the sad truth, that little Mary, as she was called, could never see her father; and in the most sympathizing tone would say, " Poor little thing, we must all be very kind to you."

After the affairs of her father were settled, his property being barely sufficient to pay the demands against him, Lucy's mother was obliged to do something for the support of herself and children. When this lady first became aware of the change in her prospects, in a pecuniary point of view, the despondency of her feelings was great. It was then that the affectionate Lucy seemed doubly dear to the fond heart of her remaining parent.

'Whenever she chanced to find her mother in tears, she earnestly sought to comfort her, and would say, in a most winning tone, Mother, do not weep, we shall get along nicely; you know I love to work, and can do a great deal for you; I can take almost all the care of little sister, so that you can do whatever you please.'

"Her mother, often greatly affected by the tenderness of feeling evinced by her youthful daughter, could not but feel, though greatly afflicted, that one choice blessing had in mercy been spared to her. The sympathy of her lovely