western sky were some faint tints of its tracing still remaining. We sat facing an open window that looked toward the west; and although the light was burning, I would ever and anon look up from my book to enjoy the beauty of the eventide; then on my mother's face, as she leaned over her work; for there, at least, I thought, I shall ever find comfort; my spirit-sun can have no setting. The door-bell rang, and he was ushered in. I know it was the draught at the opening of the door which blew the candle out, yet, although I am not superstitious, I cannot tell why, at the moment he entered, it seemed to me as if my happiness faded, flickered, and was extinguished with the candle; and notwithstanding the evening was warm, a chill passed through me that oftentimes returns when I bring to mind the recollection of that fearful hour.

The gentleman turned out to be an old friend of my father's, who had but just arrived from the Indies, where he had been absent for some years. He spoke of the regret with which he had heard of my father's death while abroad, and of his determination to seek out his widow on his return, and offer her any assistance in his power. He apparently strove to make himself as agreeable as possible, both to mother and myself, but more especially to me, and told me many a story of his wanderings. I remember one especially of a Hindoo widow burnt with her husband's body; also of combats and hair-breadth escapes from wild beasts and wilder savages; and although every tale was one of horror, still there was something fascinating about them at which I could not help but listen, while my blood seemed almost turned to ice with terror. He made quite a long call, even for the evening; and when he left, it seemed to me as if a cold hand had been lifted from off my heart.

'The gentleman's visits became frequent and more frequent. At times my mother would go out alone with the stranger, whereas never before had she left the house without her hand being clasped in mine, as we walked together.

'At last, from calling him Mr. Sidney, she called him Charles; and one evening toward the close of the fall, she told me that she was going to be married. Never before had I thought it possible, or indeed thought of it at all; and the blow fell upon me so unexpectedly, that at once I lost all consciousness, and remembered nothing for some time, till I found myself lying on the sofa, my mother bending over me, and dropping on my pallid cheek hot, scalding tears, then kissing them away franticly ; while by her side, with his arm circling her waist, was another, and now that other was to me as a demon, yet still a lordly one, for that shudder returned, while the cold dark eye looked on me not angrily nor fiercely, but it seemed to hold me spell-bound, as does the snake its fluttering victim, which fears him, hates him, yet is conquered.

"They were married, and although Mr. Sidney did not treat me harshly, still there was at all times that cold, heartless look, which told a wish for my absence, and almost a loathing of my presence, changing my every good thought to gall and bitterness. I do not think he ever really loved my mother,' Harry would say to me, or she him; but there was a fascination about him which seemed to make her unhappy when he was near, and lonely when he was away.

About two years passed on in this manner, when by degrees he began

to treat her badly; often speaking harshly to her, and chiding her for every little thing that went amiss about the house.

One night, while I was lying awake in bed, I heard him enter the front door. He seldom now returned till very late. I thought, after a little conversation, low on my mother's part, and high on his, and incoherent, as if he had been drinking deeply, (he was not a temperate man,) I thought I heard the sound of a blow mind, I only say I thought I heard it and the same moment my mother said in a little louder voice, 'Please, do n't strike me, Charles.' Oh, how my blood boiled within me! Without reflecting, or indeed for a moment knowing what I did, I leaped from the bed, and in a moment my fingers were clenched round his throat; the next, and I was lying bruised and bleeding in one corner. How, Madam! how is this?' cried he, in a torrent of passion. Have you brought this young dog up to kill me? Would you have your son murder husband? To your room, woman your to your room!' knelt to him; she besought, prayed him to spare me: but now the angry man was the cold demon again; and with that look which she knew, oh! how well! he repeated, in slow and distinct tones, as you might suppose a statue would speak: To your room, Madam! to your room!' And she, weeping, obeyed him.

She

"Now, Sir, for you,' said he, going to the door and locking it. I was just past fourteen years old at the time, and never before had I received a blow. My whole nature seemed changed at the instant; and instead of the weak child I had been, I now stood before him with a spirit equal to his own, feeling that whatever happened in consequence, I should still be rejoiced at what I had done. So, Sir! it is come to this, has it? 'Tis but what I have long expected. The lamb has changed to a very wolf!' And he lifted his closed fist as if to strike me again; but as if some thought had changed his purpose, he sat down in a chair and eyed me with that fixed stare he sometimes put on. With equal determination I looked him as steadily in the face. What! you defy me?' said he, as if reading my thoughts, which was easily done, as they were inscribed on every feature of my countenance. 'You defy me! We must look to this. We must chain the wolf, lest he do some further damage. We will speak on this subject to-morrow.' With this he left me, and retired to bed. I stood for some time almost stunned with the quick succession of occurrences; then, the excitement which had sustained me having passed away, I flung myself on the floor, and wept to sleep.

6

The next morning I was found by the servant who came to sweep the room in a state of frenzied delirium; and for a month, night and day, my mother watched over my bed, scarce ever expecting to see me leave it, save for the narrower one of the grave. But what with her tender nursing and a naturally good constitution, after a time I recovered. One day when I had left my room for a short time, to take a little exercise in the garden, I found, on my return, Mr. Sidney seated on the sofa which I had left. It was the first time I had seen him since that memorable night. It is time, Henry,' said he, that we should understand each other. I saw from the first the dislike you had formed for me, but thought little of it. Now, however, since you have shown it so openly, there must be a change. Listen to me! You must leave this house:

you must go, and that soon. While you are here your mother will be unhappy, for she knows I hate you. Your mother must not know of your going till you are gone. I shall treat her more kindly when you are gone. I have finished. I want no reply. With these words he left me. That evening, after I had kissed my mother for good-night, and apparently retired to sleep, I packed up some clothes in a bundle, wrote a few lines to her, saying that I had left her for ever-she too well knew the reason why- told her how much I loved her, and here I

am'

Poor boy! he had indeed bade her good-bye for ever. That kiss was the last one she ever imprinted on her dear child's lips. The foregoing story he told me at different times, in a disconnected manner; not all of it, for never did he breathe a word of unkindness against his mother, but always spoke of her as of an angel, too good, too holy for this world. Poor boy! he was for a short time in, but not of, this world. From what he told me, however, though perhaps as much from what I conjectured, the story was very much as I have related. It may be thought a rather exaggerated description of one so young; but if the reader will look around the world, he will see more than one instance of the same sort; namely, of a child brought up entirely under a woman's influence, in some things much too old in mind and disposition for one of his years, in other things much too young; in other words, an independent, bold, fearless disposition, softened down by woman's influence a block of marble fresh from the hands of the sculptor.

What passed from the time he joined our ship up to the time of which I am speaking may be related in a very few words. He was one of those boys who you could see at a glance was totally unfitted for hard work of any kind, and least of all for the drudgery and exposure incident to a sailor's life. He was willing and ready to do all that was demanded of him, yet at the same time it was apparent that the dangers of the sea, and especially that of going aloft, were too great for him to bear: he went wherever he was ordered, but the going killed him. I myself have had him on a royal yard with me, when he was so unnerved by unspoken terror that he could scarcely hold on, and I have been obliged to support him with one hand while working with the other. By degrees he sunk under the continuous nervous excitement occasioned by fear; never complaining, but gradually wasting away, till he was now on the verge of death. The captain and officers too late understood this, for they were kind-hearted men, and had they known it in time would have allowed him to remain on deck. As it was now, all possible efforts were made to alleviate his sufferings, and the dying boy was tended with almost maternal care by the rough sailors, who vied with each other in watching by his bed-side to pay every little attention possible; and his pillow was smoothed by hands, if not so soft, almost as loving and tender as the mother's who was perhaps then looking forward with joy to the return of her Harry.

'How do you feel now, Harry?' I asked, as I gained the side of his bed, which, as I before mentioned, had been spread on the quarter-deck, the air being too confined below. We were in the tropics, and the weather

was very warm.

'About the same, dear W,' he said in a low voice. 'I don't expect or wish to get better: I know I am going to die.'

He said this in the same tone of voice with which he would have mentioned any trivial occurrence. Poor boy! he had naught to live for, and he looked behind the dark curtain of the tomb, and saw that there was rest for the weary spirit. We were both silent for some time: then he said again, W will you read a little to me?'

-

I opened the book, according to his request, at that beautiful psalm which says, "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, yet will I fear no evil, for THOU art with me; THY rod and THY staff, they comfort me.'

of

'Yes, W-,' he said as I finished, 'those words are very sweet and true, for I know I am dying; but I am not afraid, and would gladly go if I could only see mother once more. And now I have a request to make you, which I know you will not refuse. When you get home I want you to go and see mother, and tell her how and when I died, and that I loved her as well as ever. Promise me you will. And when I am dead, please cut a lock of hair off, if you can find enough on my poor head; put it in the BIBLE, at the place you have been reading to me. She gave me the BIBLE when I was a very little boy; tell her I always read it, as she asked me to; she will like to have a lock of Harry's hair. Will you do all this, W- ??

'Yes, Harry, I will. But you must not give up yet; try and get a little more sleep; you will feel better after it."

'Do not try to deceive me, W

I am ready to die, and know that I have no chance of living; for while I was asleep last night, (I slept a little,) I dreamt that I saw an angel, and it had a face like mother's, and she said to me, 'Go, Harry dear; I shall be with you before long!' But as you wish me, I will try if I can sleep.'

Dear little boy! he was always ready to comply with every one's wishes, and he immediately shut his eyes. In a few minutes I saw by the regular rise and fall of his chest that he was sleeping. Ere long, however, his slumbers seemed to assume a more troubled character: he was dreaming; he flung his arms about and muttered as if talking to some one. He remained in this state for about an hour, and then awoke; but I saw in an instant by the wild look of his eye, that his senses were leaving him. All at once he sprung up in the bed, and tried to get out; but I laid my hand on his shoulder and restrained him. 'Lie down, Harry, lie down,' said I; 'what is the matter?'

'How dare you strike my mother?' said he, looking at me. He did not know me, and must have thought I was his step-father. 'How dare you? He shall not hurt you, mother! Harry will not let him!' He was rehearsing that dreadful scene again. 'You'll treat mother more kindly when I am gone? - she knows you hate me?' Then again he was sitting beside his mother, as of old. 'Look there, mother! how beautiful the sky is! Heaven is there, and angels, mother! Father is in heaven, is he not, mother?'

He wandered thus from scene to scene of his childhood. Now he seemed to think he was walking alone with his mother among quiet fields, and he talked of the flowers, and the green grass, and the birds, and

the little brooks; now he chased the butterflies over the smiling meadow; but in every thought and vision of the past his mother was still present to his mind. Then he saw the face of his step-father and shrieked with

terror.

At length his murmurs became more indistinct, and he sunk again into unquiet slumbers; from which ever and anon he would wake for an instant and gaze wildly around, then fall to sleep again.

By this time the rosy morn began to spread its many-colored banner over the heavens, and the stars of night paled, and the eastern horizon blushed before the coming brightness of the day-god. The rising sun told of its coming in golden characters on the white canvas of the lofty skysails, long ere its ray-crowned head appeared in the orient sea.

The watch began to move round the deck, preparing for their morning tasks, but there was none of the usual noise and bustle. The second mate went forward and communicated his orders in low tones to the men, who commenced to trim the sheets and sway on the slackened ropes without the song that usually accompanies and lightens all such labors. The captain came up with slippered feet and stood by Harry's bed-side, but asked no questions; for there, written on that pallid face, was the unasked answer, and that answer was, 'He is dying.'

A short time before four bells he awoke again, and I saw that the time of dissolution was at hand. He was however in his right mind, and said to me in a very low voice, so that I had to bend my head to hear him: 'Have I been sleeping long, W- ? I think I have been dreaming.'

'Yes, Harry, you have slept some time,' I replied. I did not like to tell him his mind had been wandering.

'Please lift me up, W, that I may see the sun rise. I love to see it rise and set; so does mother.'

I did as he desired, and arranged the pillows at his back in as comfortable a position as possible. He now saw the captain, and said to him:

'I'm glad you have come, Captain A- ; I wished to thank you for all you have done for me: you have been very kind.'

There was a tear in the captain's eye which he tried in vain to conceal, and as he turned away his head it trickled down his cheek and fell with a low tap like a drop of rain on the deck. From that moment I liked him better than before, and that tear washed away many a harsh word and deed from my memory; for while the fountain of the heart is yet undried, it cannot be all withered and callous.

Harry then took my hand, and drawing me down close to him, whispered in my ear, 'Do not forget to see mother.' And with her name still on his lips, his pure spirit flew away toward the rising sun, that gilded with its first ray the face of the dead boy, whose pulseless hand slowly released its grasp on mine, and fell lifeless on the BIBLE that lay by his side. In a few moments I closed his glazing eyes, and looking up saw, what I had not perceived before; grouped round the bed the silent sailors, and on many a cheek, not often wet with weeping, was a sun-lighted tear. We buried him that afternoon; but ere he was sewed up in his white hammock, I cut a lock of his hair, which I placed in his BIBLE; and on my return home, took it to his mother, and told her how Harry died.