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Although gathering his words very indistinctly, I felt naturally somewhat alarmed, and touching his arm softly with my hand, I exclaimed in a louder tone-" Sydney-my friend Sydney!"

He turned immediately, and uttering a piercing shriek, closed his eyes, and relapsed into his former manner. Alone, and destitute of every assistance, for even my guide had departed, I was doubtful what course to follow. Sitting down upon the mine, and waited for his

As I gazed upon his

bed, I took his hand in revival with painful anxiety pale and emaciated features, I sought in vain for the beautiful expression of peace and religious hope, which used to breathe such a charm over his countenance. His eyes were sunken, and his cheeks worn into hard furrows. I mused in uncertainty upon the melancholy change. In a few minutes he opened his eyes, and looking up into my face, whispered almost inaudibly, "Seymour! what Seymour!" The tone in which he pronounced these words, and the look which accompanied them, were so pathetic, that I could not restrain my feelings, and we wept together.

I wrapped the clothes around him, and folding myself up in my cloak, for the fire had died out, and the night grew chilly, prepared to pass the dreary hours until morning. Sydney slept sweetly; and if it had not been for an occasional start, I

might have imagined that his malady was departing. After trying in vain to compose myself to rest, I drew the rush-light to me, and taking a copy of the Orestes of Euripides from my pocket, I soon forgot my own sorrows in those of the Grecian orphans. I was lingering over the touching picture of Electra sitting by her sick brother's bed-the most pathetic scene in the Athenian Drama—when I was suddenly aroused from my dream by a shriek from Sydney. I turned round, but he still slumbered; in a moment he cried out again, and sprang up with convulsive energy. I threw my arms around his neck, and endeavoured to restrain him; but my embrace only heightened his terror. "Away there, away!" he exclaimed with fearful vehemence, as he wrestled in my arms.

Away! you are Satan; and you press upon me thus, that you may crush down my soul to Tartarus!" I still strove to keep him down, but he shook me from him as a giant would toss away a cedar bough. I gazed upon him with horror, not without some fears for my own safety. As he sat upright in the bed, his long black hair scattered from his wild and glaring eyes, and his lips covered with foam, I could not but compare him to Orestes tormented by the Furies, where the poet represents him dashing aside his fond and watching sister, and leaping out to rush upon the avenging spirits.

The violence of the paroxysm gradually abated; and on my approaching the bed, he stretched out his hand, saying "Come nearer;" and laying his head upon my shoulder, he added, "I have had such a dream, Seymour! I have seen my mother, and she- ." Here his voice faltered; and while I supported his head on one arm, and smoothed his pillow with the other, he fell into a tranquil sleep, which lasted until the morning.

With the early dawn, I hastened to the nearest farm-house, and returned with a gig to convey my unfortunate friend to my own dwelling; and gladly did I hail the spire of my little church, as it rose over the lime-trees. I had previously taken care to have my own room prepared for his reception, and I felt a burden taken off my heart, when I beheld him lying on that bed, and watched over with all the tenderness of my good housekeeper. Poor Mary Lawrence! thou art gone to thy last home, and the grass is flourishing upon thy grave, in the burial-ground of A———————; but a heart more open to melting charity, or more lowly or contented in its desires, never returned to the God who gave it.

I lost no time in sending to a physician, who resided in the adjoining town, and of whose knowledge and experience I had reason to form a very high opinion. Dr. L- rode over the same

evening. Sydney was reading the Holy Living and Dying of Jeremy Taylor when we entered the apartment. Dr. L- who was not only a man of high talent, but a Christian, sat down by the bed, and taking Sydney's hand in his own, inquired, with great tenderness, into the nature of his symptoms. I know nothing more distressing to the sufferer, or his friends, than an analytical history of every pain and sensation. dorsal consumption, in its

Sydney's complaint was most decided and afflicting form. I watched the countenance of Dr. Lwith earnestness, as he listened, in melancholy silence, to the Student's narrative of his sufferings; and I felt confident that my friend's sojourn would not be long upon earth. "You may give him anything he likes," said the

doctor, when we had left the room; "the powers of medicine can effect nothing for him; the Physician who can alone aid him in this hour of nature's sorrow, is our Saviour Jesus Christ." I answered not, for my heart was too full for utterance. "It was kind of you," said Sydney, when I returned to his chamber, “to procure a physician for me, but it is vain to lull my conscience asleep with idle hopes of recovery, for I know too well by these tokens, (placing his hands on his temples, which throbbed with a burning pain,) that I cannot long survive; but before I go hence, I would explain to you one or two of the

causes which have brought me to my present condition. I have struggled with my pride, and have obtained the mastery. When we are within a few hours' journey of the Valley of the Shadow of Death, it behoves us to put off the purple garments, and to unbind the garland from our head, like guests who have departed from a costly banquet, and are preparing to lie down and take their rest.

"When I bade you farewell under the portal of Trinity, ten years ago, I thought not that so many years, and such years!-would roll by ere we should meet again. I arrived in London in time for the Norwich mail, which passed within six or seven miles of my father's house. I had written to announce my return, and when the mail drove up to the inn at Ingastrie, John, who in my infancy drew me to school, was waiting with the ponychaise. When was pleasure seen without its shadow? My happiness in the present instance was sadly diminished by the news of my father's declining health. His strength is going, sir,' said the old man, and he rubbed a tear from his cheek as he spoke. Master, you know, sir, was always walking about the fields, and breathing the blessed air; but now he does not leave the house for days. At the last harvest-home, he left us before the second song was ended.' My faithful companion would have continued the discourse, but I had heard

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