enough!" The attendants alarmed by the noise of their lord falling, now came in, and bore him to a couch. Yet fuch was their hatred of him, that not one of them offered to moleft Fitzalan. The dying man motioned with his hand for the fervants to retire farther, and Fitzalan to advance. "O much injured knight," he groaned, can you forgive me? will you fpeak peace to my departing fpirit? O look not fo fternly. Yet I deferve it. I have finned beyond hope of pardon. But I must be speedy in my tale, I feel the hand of death upon me! O God! O Chrift! O fave a wretched finner. Alas! for me there is no hope." Weak through lofs of blood and agony, Fitzurban fainted; when he recovered, he continued, " It is now more than fixteen years, fince to gratify my avarice, I caufed your father to be feized as he was travelling, and conveyed to this caftle. He fell in one of the dungeons of the north tower by the hands of an affaffin. I gained poffeffion of his domains, by the vileft means. I robbed you of your birth-right; but I loft my peace; fince that hour I have been a stranger to happiness. Sufpecting all, and hated by all, I have exifted the most miferable of wretches. Sleeping or waking, the fpirit of your father has unceasingly been prefent; has ftill frowned on me, and threatened me with vengeance for my crimes. O fave me from him! Now he fmiles on me with fcorn, and bids the fiend fnatch my trembling foul. O mercy! mercy!" Terror ftopped his utterance: in a few moments he was more calm, and proceeded, "Two years ago, I first faw your Edith, and inftantly""Where, where is my Edith?" cried Fitzalan impetuously. Ruffian, reftore her to me!" "She is fafe and fpotlefs," anfwered the dying Fitzurban, " ftrain awhile your juft indignation, and liften to me. From the time I faw your Edith, I felt a fresh fire burning in my breaft. I devifed a thoufand plans to get her into my poffeffion, and as far as I had formed,

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rejected

rejected them. It was not till four days ago, that I formed the fcheme that I put in practice, and which has righteously ended in my deftruction. I wrote the letter in the name of Sir Edmund, well knowing that you would fly to your friend. The refult you know. Your Edith was deluded in the fame manner by a letter which I dispatched yesterday morning, and which was pretended to be written by your orders from the bed-fide of Sir Edmund. She likewife fell into the fnare, and was brought hither. I have feen her but once, when the received me with indignation, and awed me into filence by her frown. Enraged by this reception, I ordered Hugo and Walter to difpatch you in the dungeon; and refolved to ufe force, if I could not by perfuafion conquer the hatred of Edith. Heaven in its juftice has reftored you to liberty, and I fall the victim of my own wickednefs. Would to God that my death might expiate! I make you the heir of all my domains. May you long be happy with your Edith. O fpeak pardon and peace to my guilty foul. -Yet a fhort time, O fpare me, heaven!-O I am loft -they feize me-Mercy, Lord, mercy!" he faintly fhricked, averted his head, as if to fhun the fight of fomething dreadful, and expired before Fitzalan could pronounce the intreated forgiveness.

After gazing a few moments on the corpfe of the lifeless Fitzurban, whofe features were fixed in convulfive agony. Fitzalan ordered one of the fervants to conduct him to the chamber of Edith. When he entered fhe was fitting abforbed in grief, with Edwin laying in her lap, and the tears trickling from her eyes upon him. As Fitzalan advanced, the lifted up her head, and frowned; but as foon as the perceived her lord, the fprung into his arms. Edwin bounded towards him, clung round him, and expreffed his joy by a thousand infantine, endearing actions. Fitzalan embraced her with the most unbounded rapture, and

when

when the tumult of joy had a little fubfided, proceeded to relate his adventure in the dungeon, in the following words ********

FERDINAND ST. JULIEN.

*** ST. JULIEN is moft fincerely concerned, that he has hitherto been unable to give to the friends of the Monthly Vifitor the conclufion of the preceding ftory. He craves the pardon of his readers, but more particularly of those fair ones who have expreffed their anxiety for the fate of Fitzalan. He bends at their tribunal, and doubts not of their favourable verdict upon his conduct, when he pleads, and with truth, that he has not trefpaffed intentionally upon their patience, but only through neceffity. He is fure they will give him their pity as well as their forgiveness, when he declares that he has been withheld from writing by an almoft mortal illness, arifing from a terrible accident. St. Julien begs leave to affure them, though he has kept Fitzalan in prifon fo long, he has nothing Robespierrean in him, but is really a very tractable and well-difpofed creature. He doubts not

therefore but that he fhall receive next month an honourable acquittal.

R. A. D.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE MONTHLY VISITOR,

IN

SIR,

N a company where I happened lately to be prefent, a converfation was warmly entered into on the nature and province of Friendship. The majority of the party, confifting chiefly of literary characters, defended one opinion, while the oppofite was left to the fupport of a lady of confiderable eminence in the republic of letters. The coincidence of her fentiments with my own, together with the inequality of the conteft, in point of numbers at leaft, induced me to exert my feeble powers in her fupport. The following letter I wrote to her a few days fubfequent to the difcuffion, VOL. II. intending

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intending it merely as an illuftration of fome of the opinions which I had advanced. If, however, fir, on perufal, you should conceive any of the obfervations which it contains worthy notice, your infertion of it will be efteemed as the mark of your approbation, by

AMICUS.

MADAM,

ΤΟ

ON FRIENDSHIP.

The converfation in which I had the honour of joining with you on a late evening, was of a nature too interefting and important to be paffed over like the generality of tea-table difquifitions. I have, therefore, (perhaps indeed too arrogantly) prefumed to tranfmie to you in writing fome fentiments that have arifen in my mind on the fubject, which, circumftances then prevented me from explaining fo fully as I could have wifhed. Indeed, I much doubt my being able, even through this medium, to communicate to you in a manner fufficiently clear, an explanation of fome of the opinions which I hazarded in your fupport. Human nature is in itself fo myfterious and inexplicable to the moft penetrating of finite comprehenfions, that all our fpeculations on its operations must be very inconclufive, and all our knowledge of it imperfect and objectionable. To trace human principles to their fource, is a labour of extreme difficulty. Few metaphysicians, nay none, have been able to account for the whole of human actions. There are in the human mind, a number of incentives, which feem to be inherent in its nature; the effects of which are frequently to be seen and contemplated, but whofe caufes remain buried in a myfterious uncertainty. Of the number of these is the principle of affection, which is to be found in every department

department of the animal world, and even in fome parts of the vegetable; but which is more particularly to be viewed in the mind of man. AFFECTION first leads

every individual to a general unqualified regard for thofe of his own fpecies. In fome perfons, however, it is extremely faint, and even scarcely perceiveable; but in the man of generous and elevated mind, it is the ground-work of the most exalted fentiments. Through this inftinctive principle, he forms a relish for the pleafures of fociety. To enjoy thefe in their full extent, he is neceffitated to select from among the individuals who furround him; thofe whofe habits, tempers, and difpofitions, bear the clofer analogy to his own. This choice is equally difficult and important, uncertain, and precarious. The niceft judgment might be deceived by fpecious appearances, and the minutest observation be inadequate to the obtaining of just conclufions.

You, madam, will doubtless agree with me, that there can exist no true and lasting Friendship, but what is founded on the closest sympathy of disposition between two perfons, whofe manners are pure and unfullied, whofe fouls are elevated by a consciousness of their fuperiority, and whofe hearts are fwayed by motives of the ftrictest truth, justice, and integrity. By our habitual intercourfe with fociety, and by a strict attention to the actions of those with whom we affociate, we acquaint ourselves with their different difpofitions; and in proportion as they correfpond with our own, do we become prepoffeffed in favour of the individuals themfelves. And it is this prepoffeffion which, by degrees, kindles into Friendship. You will perceive, madam, that this is a fentiment of a more elevated nature than Affection; the one arifing from pofitive circumftances, the other exifting in a variable admiration. Affection is a principle common to all; Friendship a fentiment but rarely to be found. I am aware that this rule is liable to ftrong objections; fo far, at least, as terms may be concerned. But I affure you, madam, I have not adopted

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