sleep, or hanging on her mother's breast, her exquisite beauty excited the admiration of all who beheld her; so that the pride and maternal love of Mrs. Vivian were equally gratified by the possession of such a child.

But, not to dwell too long on this subject, I will briefly say, that from the time of this dear infant's birth Mrs. Vivian became wholly captivated by its lovely aspect and its endearing behaviour. She now almost entirely shut herself up in her nursery; and if at any time she went out in her carriage or open palanquin, her baby was upon her lap. She carried it about the house in her arms; she slept with it in her boson: she dressed and fed it with her own hands; and, in fact, it seemed to absorb her every faculty.

From the time of her ceasing to go out with her husband, he had acquired the habit of visiting alone, and of going much into gentlemen's parties; and, though he was not unkind to his wife, yet her company became less and less necessary to his happiness. Mrs. Vivian, however,

being wrapped up in her child, did not so much regret this neglect; although it had the effect of more and more endearing the little infant to her heart, who was at all times ready to greet her with its gentle smiles, to extend its little arms towards her, and to spring joyfully to her bosom.

Louisa was living in a foreign land, in which she had as yet fo med no friendships; she had not even a servant of her own country to speak to; and her husband was constantly abroad. Thus every circumstance conspired to attach her more and more to her captivating companion; while she sweetly yielded to that in which she suspected nothing wrong, and gave up her whole heart to the little fair one.

Thus one year and a half passed away, and the lovely baby was just able to walk after its mother, and to make sɔme of its little feelings known in such lisping accents as mothers only understand, when one evening, after Mrs. Vivian's return from her airing, which she had taken as usual in her open palanquin with her child on her lap, and during which she had been particularly delighted with the endearing manner of the infant, she was suddenly alarmed at the hour of going to rest by certain indications of fever about the infant, the danger of which she too well understood.

She sent in haste for medical assistance. Remedies were instantly applied; but they had no effect in stopping the

swift and deadly march of the disease, which proceeded with such dreadful rapidity, that in less than eight-and-forty hours the little beloved one breathed its last, and left its mother without comfort. And now came the time and the occasion, which was to prove whether there was aught of real religion in Louisa Vivian or not. She was entering the furnace of affliction—a fiery furnace, in which the stoutest numan heart must fail; and it now became evident to Louisa, that she had no source of consolation within nerself, but that her soul was left without an anchor whereon to repose during the storm that assailed her.

For some weeks after the death of her infant, her grief was violent, and almost frantic; but as her husband felt very deeply the loss of his child, he showed the utmost inaulgence to her feelings, and really treated her with all the tenderness of which he was capable. But when week after week passed away, and she still refused all comfort, he became displeased, and arguing with her according to the common modes of worldly comfort, he pleaded, that, severe as their trial was, it was nothing more than the ordinary lot of parents, who seldom have the satisfaction of seeing all their children grow up to maturity, and that it behoved her to bear this affliction with fortitude, as a duty she owed both to him and to society; adding, that he hoped she would endeavour to shake off her grief, and go out among her friends.

These common-place arguments, however kindly intended, rather irritated than soothed the bereaved mother, who, with a blameable insensibility to the intended kindness of her husband, very vehemently opposed the idea of entering again into the world; assuring him that she had never known happiness since she had forsaken religion and a stricter mode of life for earthly pleasures, and that she was now resolved never to enter again into gay society.

Captain Vivian reasoned with her upon what he termed the folly of this resolution, adding, that he could not see the necessity of such extreme strictness as she had formerly practised, and assuring her, that if she did not endeavour to overcome her excessive melancholy, and make his house more agreeable to him than it had lately been, he should certainly be driven from home to seek his happiness elsewhere.

A vehement charge of cruelty on the part of his wife, and a pathetic call upon her departed infant, was the only reply which Captain Vivian received to this last remark. And as this charge was repeated whenever he made any attempt to persuade her to overcome her excessive grief, he soon ceased to expostulate; and, not being in the habit of putting any restraint upon his own feelings, he thenceforward absented himself as much as possible from home, leaving his unhappy wife to the full indulgence of her wretched feelings.

They who have never been in foreign countries in a time of affliction, can have little idea what feelings of deep abandonment are sometimes experienced in such circumstances. Louisa had made no friends among the ladies on the station -her husband was now continually absent from her-her servants were of another nation, and spoke an unknown language. Thus was this unhappy woman left through many a long and languid day to the full contemplation of her sorrows; till, at length, weary of herself, and of all the world, she determined once again to try religion as a source of comfort-and, remembering those feelings of self-approbation and satisfaction which she had enjoyed on first turning her mind to serious subjects, and not knowing that youth, and health, and the absence of actual afflictions, had much to do with those frames and feelings, she fancied that it might be possible, by a similar course of duties, to procure to herself a return of the same agreeable sensations. No sooner had she conceived this idea, than her actions received a new spring, and, with the zeal natural to her character, she began to arrange for herself a new set of devotional forms and observances. And, inasmuch as there were no established modes of worship in the cantonments, she exercised her own invention in prescribing to herself a set of rules and customs, which she judged would be equivalent to those public ordinances which it was now no longer in her power to attend.

For a while she found her thoughts somewhat diverted from her loss by these newly-imposed duties, which led her to imagine, that by them she should presently make such a merit with her God, that it would become an act of justice in him to afford her consolation.

Thus she laboured to work out her own happiness; while

all her hopes arose, not from what her God could and would do for her, but from what she could do for him. She had as yet no faith; she knew not what it was: and the consequence was, that, after having laboured awhile in this way, and again rendered herself and her religion very unpleasant to her husband, she at length became weary of her fruitless efforts, and, confessing to herself that all her observances were mere vanities unable to reach the heart, she suddenly relinquished them in disgust, sinking again into a state of deep dejection, in which no object had power to draw or fix her attention but the remembrance of the little beloved one whom she had lost.

During the period while her mind was taken up with her religious duties, Captain Vivian had more than once attempted to reason her out of the new mode of life which she had adopted; but his arguments had only given occasion to quarrels, since she insisted, that in all her observances she did no more than her duty, and that she could entertain no reasonable hope of domestic happiness till ho should become her companion in these exercises.

In consequence of these disagreements, he generally left her to herself, till the time arrived when she began to relax from the severity of these forms; when he again took occasion to press her to go out with him, and so far prevailed, that for several days together she accompanied him to his friends' houses, where she not only appeared cheerful, but was more than once betrayed into a degree of gaiety, which, in her situation, almost bordered on levity-son times laughing immoderately, and appearing far from insensible of the admiration which her fine appearance always excited.

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To those who have made few observations on human nature, the character of Louisa Vivian may perhaps appear one of unusual inconsistency; but others, who have been deeper observers, or who have been much in the habit of looking into their own minds, will acknowledge, that there is no inconsistency of which our nature is not capable, and that, in fact, there is no character truly established and consistent, but that which is upheld and directed by God himself, according to that which is written. They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary, and VOL. I.

F

they shall walk and not faint. (Isaiah xl. 31.) But to return to my narrative.

Captain Vivian had hoped that the spirits of Mrs. Vivian would have been essentially benefited by her going into company. But in this view he was mistaken: for, on after reflection, she considered every expression of mirth which had escaped her, as an injury to the memory of her infant; and this idea operated so strongly upon her mind, and occasioned such a return of deep dejection every morning after being in company, that she at length informed her husband, that it was her determination to go out no more, but to remain at home, and reflect without interruption on the hapiness she had lost; "for," added she, "if by going from home, I am enabled to throw off my sorrow for a few hours, the sense of them afterwards returns upon me with an additional weight which I am unable to bear."

This declaration on the part of Mrs. Vivian, which was made one day with peculiar emphasis at the moment when he was going out to evening parade, made her husband extremely angry; insomuch that he said aloud, as he descended the steps of the verandah to mount his horse; "Well, take your own way, I shall speak to you no more upon these subjects: if you do not choose to go out with me, I must make up my mind to it; and this evening I shall go to the mess, where I hope to enjoy the society of Cecil Gray." "Cecil Gray!" repeated Mrs. Vivian. "Is he arrived in this country?"

"Yes," replied her husband; " and I should have told you so before, had I thought any thing in the world could have interested you beyond the sphere of your own feelings." Thus saying, he spurred his Arab horse, and flew over the plain with a swiftness which rendered it difficult for his panting sais to keep up with him.

"My own feelings!" repeated Louisa, who was sitting in the verandah when her husband left her-"My own feelings! And has the father of my departed infant ceased altogether to participate in these feelings! Oh, my Louisa ;" added she, "child of my heart, sweetest companion of my solitary hours! art thou so soon, so very soon, forgotten! has the memory of thy enchanting smiles, thy infantine charms, thy extraordinary beauty, thy dove-like glances, already perished with thee in the tomb? Oh, my