forsaken me: he hath inclined his ear, and listened to my prayers. My eyes grow dim—my days are numbered—the last will speedily arrive—the God of mercy will support me in my final hour. I feel perfectly easy; the night of death has for me no terrors. The Alps will soon glow, and the sun, the moon, and the stars, shine far—far beneath me; and I shall rejoin my dear mother and my William, and on his bosom enjoy the transports of love to all eternity. Amen! amen!’ added she faintly, folding her hands, and dissolving in tears.”
“Amen! amen!” I repeated, not with dry eyes, after the lovely sufferer, and dispatched my letter, with the melancholy intelligence of the death of my gallant friend to Mimili’s worthy neighbour. In about a month I received one, the direction of which was in his hand-writing. I had not the heart to break the seal. I knew perfectly well the purport of its contents—Mimili’s last hours, the anguish of her agonized father, and the affliction of their old friend and his wife.
Angry with fate for summoning away such a being as Mimili in the flower of life, and dooming so amiable a creature as my friend William, in the prime of manhood, to the most deplorable
