ceived, and as his eyes glanced over it, he burst into an agony of tears, and rushed from the apartment ! What a revolution indeed had a few hours occasioned! Barnwell! the happy Barnwell, was suddenly plunged from the height of happiness to the depths of wretchedness, yet none could tell the cause. George Barnwell was an orphan! He had been brought up by an affectionate uncle, with the utmost tenderness; educated in every religious and moral virtue, removed from all care and anxiety, his days of youth had passed without the slightest shade of sorrow at sixteen years of age, he was removed from the care of his first friend, to the protection of Mr. Thorowgood; and in the exchange had not experienced any diminution of happiness; he had only exchanged one peaceful home for another and even a more attractive one. All the virtues of his beloved and venerated uncle lived in the mind of his worthy master; but to this bliss was added the pleasing society of youth. Maria Thorowgood, a lovely unaffected girl, rendered their domestic society delightful; and dear to the heart of Barnwell, also, was the possession of a friend. Trueman, a resident in the house of Mr. Thorowgood, was an estimable youth, just three years older than himself; they became deeply attached, pursued their studies together, read, walked, talked, and knelt at the same altar; and George, whose soul was pure and spotless, whose feelings were ardent and glowing, and whose sentiments rather partook of the refinement which marked the conduct and character of the ancients, than of more modern and vitiated manners, unconscious of any sentiment less exalted than friendship, looked upon a true friend as the acme of human delight, as the perfectability of human happiness. It was but three days previous to this period, that Barnwell, in the pure joy of an untainted spirit, the ardent glow of an enraptured imagination, had breathed the effusions of his soul, and presented, as a tribute to his beloved Trueman, that paper which had now risen up in judgment against him; and which, when referred to by his friend, had stung him to the inmost soul, feeling assured that he was no longer worthy of his esteem! EFFUSION TO FRIENDSHIP, From Barnwell to his most dear and inestimable Friend and Companion, Walter Trueman. Refulgent ray-offspring of love and truth, Twin born with sweet affection-source of bliss, Compound of purity and excellence, Ethereal brightness, choicest gift of heaven. Ah! Sacred Friendship herald of peace-all hail; Thou strew'st the chequered path of life with flowers, Thou smil'st, and tears of sorrow dry before Thy genial warmth !-Thou speak'st, and soft complaint Thy blissful mansion is the heart of truth! When Trueman gave the paper into his hands, it had struck upon his heart with icy coldness-had stung him with remorse and shame, with bitter remembrance of what innocence and peace were his, when he had traced these lines; but what guilt and torture were the sad inmates of his bosom now! He felt the justice of Trueman's reproaches, and at length resolved,-dreadful as that resolution wasto impart to him the secret of his guilt and shame, and to seek consolation and relief from his friendship. He was hastening in search of Walter, when his progress was arrested by the appearance of his offended master,-who, for the first time, looked sternly upon him but his anger was disarmed by the sorrow of Barnwell's countenance, and he spoke to him with mildness, forbearing all reproach. Barnwell at once threw himself at his master's feet, and, with repentant tears, begged him to hear his confession of the misdemeanor he had committed; but Thorowgood refused to listen, and telling him "he felt assured that whatever was the error he had committed, it would never be again repeated," he raised him from the ground and tenderly pressed his hand. Barnwell entreated he would hear him,-that his heart was breaking, and that he could not be at peace under the idea of having deceived so good a master! "Excellent young man-(replied Thorowgood)this remorse endears you more than ever to my : it heart be at peace-be assured of my forgiveness whatever may be your fault, of this I am certain, was harder for you to offend, than it is for me to pardon." Barnwell was so deeply affected by his master's kindness, that he determined to break the chain of infatuation which had so suddenly encircled him; and though he could not redeem what was past, he could avoid a repetition of his former crime. Alas! this resolution was quickly overpowered by new temptation-temptation not to be resisted! Destruction awaited him-sorrow and infamy hovered round, and left him without the power of escape! This awful revolution in a mind so virtuous, and till now so happy, was occasioned by the influence of an artful woman! Millwood, a young lady of good family, had been, at a very early age, seduced by a villain, who by specious arts, first won her affections, then lured her from virtue, and afterwards betrayed her to shame. The delusion he had spread around her, was speedily dissipated; she awoke as rom a trance-awoke to a full sense of degradation, and to a conviction of her hopeless situation. Millwood was the orphan daughter of an officer, who had lost his life in his country's cause, leaving his helpless infant to the protection of a relative, one who, proud of prosperity, regarded not the sacred claims of kindred; giving her a home it is true, but that home was destitute of every comfort. Millwood knew not a father's protecting care-a mother's fond endearments. She felt herself an object of charity, and her proud heart spurned at the idea; her education was neglected, her days of infancy were clouded by present sorrow, and apprehension for the future Her sensibility frequently wounded by the pride, and harshness of her unfeeling aunt, she would seek society among the servants,-whose companion she became from choice. One amongst them was a woman of depraved morals-who fed her vanity by idle praises, repeated encomiums on her beauty, urged the admiration she would excite, when she grew up-frequently told her she was born to a carriage, an appendage of greatness she attached such importance to, that the manner by which it might be obtained, was of little consequence. The mind of the poor orphan became vitiated by degrees, nor was she aware how far her morals were tainted, till fatally convinced by her fall from virtue. Her heart exquisitely affectionate, unguarded by any tie of nature, by any claim of friendship, was easily open to the artful blandishments of love, which soon lulled her bewildered senses! Too many unfortunate females are placed in a situation similar to that of Millwood. When the snares of the wily seducer have lured them from their home to partake of the fleeting pleasures which vice prepares the delirium passes for a time; but soon reflection, bitter agonizing reflection, in the form of self reproach, steals in, and blights each dawning joy But what eye will shed a tear-what bosom heave a sigh-what hand be extended to succour—what hospitable door be opened to receive the midnight wanderers? The tear of anguish is shed in secret; the groan of repentance is uttered without the power of amendment; and when the vile betrayers of their innocence, grown weary of their charms, desert and abandon them-what remains? Infamy or death!!! Oh! gracious God! what an alternative !-What youthful eye ever yet beheld the grave yawning to devour, that did not shrink from its cold embrace ? Whoever yet felt the approach of famine, that did not strive to avert its dreadful effects--that did not cling to existence, even though its portion was misery? Behold them, now, like the gaudy tulip, decorated in various hues to attract the eye! but all within is sorrow and reproach. They bloom awhile |