that his visit might be too late. Respiration seemed nearly extinct; it struck Mrs. De Brooke to administer the same expedient which, to all appearance, had formerly saved his sister. In order, therefore, to keep life and hope awhile unextinguished, if perchance they could be prolonged until the dawning of day, raising the dying child in her arms, she gave him a few drops of that potion, which, has the power of subduing and even suspending for a time the operations of nature. She saw it take effect, she saw him sink to sleep: she kept her station, still and breathless, by his side. The morning beamed, but he awoke not; that sleep, was it the sleep of death? Sometimes she was tempted to think it was, and blamed herself, as the cause of perhaps hastening his dissolution. The doctor, however, at last presented himself, and approved of what she had done. The disorder, he said, had arisen to the greatest degree of malignancy; but that, until his patient awoke, nothing could be decided upon. The mournful interval elapsed. The child raised his weary lids, cast upon each of his trembling sensitive parents one long, silent, and tender regard, seeming to carry in its peculiar, heavenly, yet heartrending expression, "I go to a better world! farewell for ever!" A slight con-
