companying us; and there I broke forth in such vehement expressions of unsanctified grief, as probably showed but too well how unavailing all his labours with me had hitherto been. He allowed me, however, to exhaust this paroxysm of sorrow; and then taking his text, as it were, from the marble sarcophagi, beneath the dome near which we were standing, he gave such a description of the whole system of Christianity, and of the efforts (if such a term may be allowed me) of the Almighty to deliver his people from all evil, as might have softened the most obdurate, though it failed in softening my heart, which was harder than stone.

"The delivery of souls from the power of sin and Satan, consistent with justice, was, he said, the object of the counsels of the Most High; and in as much as man, in adult age, too often resists the divine will, the security of thousands, and tens of thousands, millions, and tens of millions, of the human race, is effected by the death of infants, who, departing this life without actual sin, are made acceptable unto God by an interest in Christ, and are thus made heirs of glory after a short and peaceful course, being regenerated and sanctified in their feelings and affections; and thus, without the experience of the bitterness of sin, being admitted into glory.

"From hence he drew this result, that parents, though bereaved, ought not to mourn as those without hope: and he was proceeding to add more on this subject, when overcome with passion, which struggled violently against conviction, I stepped from the dome, and walked to some little distance, where, sitting down on a garden-chair which offered itself, I wept for a considerable time. At length, looking towards the dome, I saw the two gentlemen still there; my husband leaning, in a deeply thoughtful attitude, on his son's tomb, and Mr. Arnot addressing him with great earnestness. This conversation lasted till, the dusk of the evening suddenly coming on, the twilight being short in the tropical countries, we were compelled

to return to the house.

"The next day the excellent Mr. Arnot left us; but not till he had effected one point with my husband against my inclinations. This concerned our little Mary Anne, whom I intended to place in a very fashionable boarding

school in London; but Mr. Arnot had interest sufficient to persuade her father to insist upon her being left with Euphemia, of whom, it seems, he had the highest opinion which one human being could possibly have of another. "From the departure of Mr. Arnot for as much as twelve years, I can scarcely say that there was a single event of my life worth recording. I never had another child; and as I had resisted religious convictions previous to the visit of the good man, and during its continuance, it seems that the Almighty afterwards left me to myself, and thus permitted me to prove my own schemes of happiness for many years.

"Having nothing to call me out during this period, I became excessively self-indulgent.

"My reader will not, I hope, throw my narrative down with disgust, if I speak the truth, and confess, that though I did not actually get intoxicated, yet, that every day I took a quantity of strong beer and claret; so that, in a short time, my personal appearance was much more portly.

"After awhile, falling into the society of one or two country-born ladies, I was tempted to try the hookah, and very soon used it, without any hesitation, before the largest company. Dress and ornament now began to be more my delight than ever; and I was much gratified in receiving shawls, and other presents, from the natives who had business with my husband, although there was some deduction from this gratification by finding it necessary to conceal these presents from Mr. Milbourne.

"In the mean time, as I contracted increasingly these habits, I became more and more alienated from my husband. Mr. Milbourne was always a reserved character, and a man of few words; and, in proportion as he began to think and act more as a Christian, he became more reserved, probably from the circumstance of having no one who could sympathize with him.

66 No person who lives in Europe can have an idea of the solitary and isolated feelings of Europeans in some situations in India. It is astonishing how heavily time often passes in these places, and what a sameness and dulness it leaves on the mind. Here are no impressions arising from revolving months and seasons as in higher

latitudes; no periods in which the trees lose all their leaves; when the days become short, the windows are closed, and the pleasures of the family circle are realized round the cheerful fire; no seasons in which the heart is cheered by the revival of nature, and the renewed bloom of fields and gardens;-but every thing in these warmer regions wears an unchanging aspect, and even public news is old and stale before it reaches the ear. There is no enjoyment of rural walks and rural scenery, or even of public pleasures, or the stir of town life; no sound of bells to mark the Sabbath; and even every book must be far-fetched and dearly purchased.

"It requires the energy of a noble mind, indeed, to retain an active spirit in regions so depressive both to the 'bodily and intellectual powers; and, perhaps, without religion, there are very few instances in which India has not utterly destroyed all vigour of mind in persons who have long resided in its most retired situations.

"But I am lost in the contemplation of those years in which I was so completely sunk, so entirely degraded by sin, that I was insensible to all spiritual matters, and as utterly devoid of all power of raising myself from this sleep of death, as he who lies under the influence of an apoplexy to rise and exert himself.

"This was, undoubtedly, the most dangerous state into which I had ever fallen; and had I been left in this state to my dying hour, I had assuredly perished without the smallest hope.

"Twelve long and dreary years had passed since the loss of my Amelia; and I was looking forward to the return of my Mary Anne to India, where I expected and hoped that she would form an advantageous union, (for I had been informed that she was a remarkably handsome girl,) when Mr. Milbourne, whose constitution had sustained the climate almost to a miracle, suddenly began to sink; and our medical man expressed a wish that it might be convenient for him to return to Europe.

"I was much startled at this suggestion; and when Mr. Milbourne replied, that he certainly could return to England, though not to live in the style he did where he was, I declared, with vehemence, that I trusted it might not be necessary, for my habits were such, that I

should find it extremely painful to abandon my mode of life.

"This hint was sufficient for my excellent husband; and from that time, the expediency of returning to England on his account was never once hinted at.

"When the cold weather returned, after Mr. Milbourne's first failure of health, he revived very much; though in the next hot season he had a decided and very alarming attack of the liver complaint, which was repeated afterwards. The medical man then took occasion to say, that it would be best for us to think of Europe: but I chose to turn a deaf ear to this admonition, my head being filled with the prospect of settling my daughter.

66

Mary Anne was four years old when she quitted India, and fourteen years had passed since she left us; I therefore became very solicitous that she should now return; and, after Mr. Milbourne's third attack, I eagerly entreated him to give directions immediately for Mary Anne's being sent to us.

"He looked at me with astonishment. 'What!' he said, 'in my state of health! and when this country has been the grave of three of our children! No,' he added, 'no, Olivia, you shall find me determined in this matter. Mary Anne shall remain where she is; and you may choose whether you will return to England to enjoy the society of your child, or remain here in perpetual banishment. I am willing to abide by your decision.'

"I was astonished to find so much determination in my husband; and the more so when I discovered that neither tears, reproaches, nor hysterics had any effect. However I was so violently affected, that I took to my bed, and remained there and in my chamber for some days.

"Mr. Milbourne's resolution was not, however, to be shaken, and we remained on very distant terms till a letter arrived from Europe, the contents of which almost drove me beside myself.

"This letter was from Mr. Frederick Fairlie; and its purport was to inform us, that he and his wife had observed a growing attachment between their eldest son (for they had been blessed with another son and daughter in England) and Mary Anne; and that, while awaiting our

tre of the square; and which, being open on all sides, commanded a view of the garden in every direction.

66 During one cold season I took great pleasure in my garden, frequently visiting it, and enjoying the fragrance of the flowers, and the presence of my children; and if there was nothing particularly praiseworthy in this amusement, it was at least by no means a blameable one; excepting that the effect was not what it ought to have been; for instead of these beauties filling me with gratitude to God, they served rather to elate me more and more, and to remove me further from him.

Prosperity was not good for me; and it was necessary, in order to my salvation, that I should find thorns among my roses, or that I should be appointed to suffer temporary afflictions, that I might be delivered from greater evils. But my reader may perhaps wish to know something of what was. passing at Bauglepore all this time.

"I had frequent letters from Euphemia, all of which were of a melancholy cast. Her father she described as being much in the state in which I had seen him during the first day of my visit at Bauglepore, though he seldom referred to any afflictive circumstances. Julia, she informed me, had put on mourning for her husband, but had shown few other tokens of sorrow; she had returned to her father's immediately on her becoming a widow; but, soon afterwards going down to Calcutta, had there married an old surgeon, who had nothing whatever to recommend him but his rupees, and she was living with him in considerable style near the Lal bazar. Of her brothers, Euphemia said little in any of her letters. Celia she mentioned as living in some of the wild regions near the Sunderbunds, having a rapidly increasing family, and a husband who, depending only on some indigo plantations, was sometimes supposed to be worth money, and sometimes not to be in possession of a single pice. Lizzy and Lucretia, she observed, were still at home; but as she never said more than this respecting them, I supposed that she had nothing very agreeable to make known.

66 Respecting her own family, she spoke of her little ucy as being a very delicate child, that she trembled