put it beyond the power of fate itself to disunite our hearts? One of the days which the Church has wisely appointed for the commemoration of the death of our blessed Saviour for the deliverance of sinners, we knelt together at the holy altar; our prayers ascended at the same instant to the throne of grace; each felt actuated by a divine enthusiasm; the world receded from our view, and we already felt ourselves partakers of the bliss of the just. Faith, and the sublime spirit of religion, strengthened our souls, and inspired the hope that our petitions would be accepted by the God of the universe, through the mediation of the blessed Jesus.

I recollect the last conversation we had together. "O Adelaide !" you said, "how grateful am I to the Giver of all goodness,

F

that he has created us for each other; but Oh! should death tear thee from me, what would remain for me on earth? A solitary wanderer in this busy world, life would be a burden too heavy for me to bear; or what, if I were summoned to the tomb, would be thy consolation?" "We would meet again in Heaven," I replied, "we are but pilgrims here; our union would not be dissolved by death. The separation would be only temporary; the departed spirit, although invisible, would hover around her mate. She would fondly watch the object who on earth shared alike her joys and cares, with whom her happiest days were spent, and from whom, when reunited in that blessed country, where sorrow will be no more, no vicissitudes of time or chance will ever be able to separate her." Fernando, let this be thy consolation, and

indulge no longer a fruitless sorrow, humble thyself before the footstool of the Most High, and in deep contrition confess thy guilt.

A well-spent life, and sincere repentance for thy intended crime, will, through the mediation of our Redeemer, wash away thy stains. Study so to live, that thou mayst obtain the approbation of Heaven; much is required of thee, for much is in thy power. Contribute to the happiness of thy fellowmortals; thou canst make the hearts of the widow and the orphan to sing for joy. So, even on earth thou shait know happiness; and when thy course is finished, and the shadows fly away, thou wilt sleep in Jesus, and awake to life eternal.

LETTER VI.

FROM AN AFRICAN SLAVE TO HIS WIFE.

FAR from the abodes of mortality, my ever beloved Morna, the once afflicted and griefworn Azid rests in quiet from his sorrows. Here the victim of inhumanity finds refuge from persecution; here the master and the slave are equal; tyranny loses his power, and here alone, suffering innocence finds redress. I have, unseen, beheld thy tears for my uncertain fate; grieve no longer, Morna; we trod together a thorny path; I have first reached the end, and for thee also, my suffering, my tender wife, a dwelling is prepared in this abode of everlasting bliss.

Well mayest thou remember, Morna, that dreadful day which for ever separated us on earth! made prisoners by the chance of war, we still enjoyed a gleam of comfort, while permitted to wear our chains together. When sold by our conquerors to an European trader, my haughty soul, accustomed to command a powerful nation, could but ill brook the condition of a slave; 'twas thou alone calmed my rage, and soothed the tempest of my mind; but when I viewed thy chains, and the evils of futurity presented themselves in dreadful array to my tortured imagination, the thought unmanned me: I execrated our conquerors, cursed our wayward fate, and a thousand times resolved at once to end our misery and our lives. We were, with my unfortunate subjects, exposed to sale, and purchased by different masters. O Morna! what a stroke was that! the separation of