stars, and dwell together in infinite perfection and bliss!"

'As he spoke these words, a burst of pure, brilliant light, like a sudden opening of heaven, broke through the valley; and, as soon as my eyes were able to endure the splendour, such a vision of loveliness and glory opened upon them, as took even my sceptical spirit by surprise, and made it yield, at once, to the potency of the spell.

Suspended, as I thought, in air, and occupying the whole of the opposite region of the valley, there appeared an immense orb of light, within which, through a haze of radiance, I could see distinctly groups of young female spirits, who, in silent, but harmonious movement, like that of the stars, wound slowly through a variety of fanciful evolutions; and, as they linked and unlinked each other's arms, formed a living labyrinth of beauty and grace. Though their feet seemed to tread along a field of light, they had also wings, of the richest hue, which, like rainbows over waterfalls, when played with by the breeze, at every moment reflected a new variety of glory.

As I stood gazing with wonder, the orb, with all its ethereal inmates, gradually receded into the dark void, lessening, as it went, and growing more bright, as it lessened; till, at length, distant, apparently, as a retiring comet, this little world of Spirits, in one small point of intense radiance, shone its last and vanished. "Go," exclaimed the rapt Priest, "ye happy souls, of whose dwelling a glimpse is thus given to our eyes, go, wander, in your orb, through the boundless heaven, nor ever let a thought of this perishable world come to mingle its dross with your divine nature, or tempt you to that earthward fall, by which spirits, as bright, have been ruined!"

'A pause ensued, during which, still under the influence of wonder, I sent my fancy wandering after the inhabitants of that orb, almost wishing myself credulous enough to believe in a heaven, of which crea

tures, so like all that I most loved on earth, were in

mates.

'At length, the Priest, with a sigh at the contrast he was about to draw, between the happy spirits we had just seen and the fallen ones of earth, resumed his melancholy History of the Soul. Tracing it, from the first moment of earthward desire, to its final eclipse in the shadows of this world, he dwelt upon every stage of its darkening descent, with a pathos that sent sadness into the very depths of the heart. The first downward look of the Spirit towards earth-the tremble of her wings on the edge of Heaven-the giddy slide, at length, down that fatal descent, and the Lethæan cup, midway in the sky, of which when she has once tasted, Heaven is forgot; through all these gradations he mournfully traced her fall, to the last stage of darkness, when, wholly immersed in this world, her celestial nature is changed, she can no longer rise above earth, nor remembers her home, but by glimpses so vague, that, mistaking for hope what is only memory, she believes them to be a light from the Future, not the Past.

"To retrieve this ruin of the once blessed Soul-to clear away, from around her, the clouds of earth, and, restoring her lost wings, facilitate their return to Heaven-such" said the reverend man, "is the great task of our religion, and such the triumph of those divine Mysteries, in which the life and essence of our rcligion, lie. However sunk and changed and clouded may be the Spirit, as long as a single trace of her original light remains, there is yet hope that--"

Here his voice was interrupted by a strain of mournful music, of which the low, distant breathings had been, for some minutes, heard, but which now gained upon the ear too thrillingly to let it listen to any more earthly sound. A faint light, too, at that instant broke through the valley, and I could perceive, not far from the spot where we sat, a female figure, veiled, and crouching to earth, as if subdued by sorrow, or under the influence of shame.

The light, by which I saw her, was from a pale, moon-like meteor, which had formed itself in the air as the music approached, and shed over the rocks and the lake a glimmer as cold as that by which the Dead, in their own realm, gaze on each other. The music, too, which appeared to rise directly out of the lake, and to come full of the breath of its dark waters, spoke a despondency in every note which no language could express; and, as I listened to its tones, and looked upon that fallen Spirit, (for such the holy man whispered, was the form before us,) so entirely did the illusion of the scene take possession of me, that, with breathless anxiety, I waited the result.

• Nor had I gazed long before that form rose slowly from its drooping position; the air around it grew bright, and the pale meteor overhead assumed a more cheerful and living light. The veil, which had before shrouded the face of the figure, became gradually transparent, and the features, one by one, disclosed themselves through it. Having tremblingly watched the progress of the apparition, I now started from my seat, and half exclaimed, "It is she!" In another minute, this veil had, like a thin mist, melted away, and the young Priestess of the Moon stood, for a third time, revealed before my eyes!

To rush instantly towards her was my first impulse, but the arm of the Priest held me firmly back. The fresh light, which had begun to flow in from all sides, collected itself in a glory round the spot where she stood. Instead of melancholy music, strains of the most exalted rapture were heard; and the young maiden, buoyant as the inhabitants of the fairy orb, amid a blaze of light like that which fell upon her in the Temple, ascended into the air.

་ ་་

Stay, beautiful vision, stay!" I exclaimed, as, breaking from the hold of the Priest, I flung myself prostrate on the ground, the only mode by which I could express the admiration, even to worship, with which I was filled. But the vanishing spirit heard me not receding into the darkness, like that orb, whose

track she seemed to follow, her form lessened away, till she was seen no more. Gazing, till the last luminous speck had disappeared, I suffered myself unconsciously to be led away by my reverend guide, who, placing me once more on my bed of poppy-leaves, left me to such repose as it was possible, after such a scene, to enjoy.'

Our readers will readily perceive, that the moment chosen by the artist, is that in which the vision ascends from the gaze of the enraptured Epicurean; and, we trust, they will agree with us in saying, that the design is admirably expressive of the subject, and that the engraving is worthy of the design.

THE SIEGE OF PONTEFRACT.

We have been very much amused with an intelligent and ingenious history of Pontefract, by George Fox.t The author has very industriously, and with a good taste, which is not less admirable than his application, collected a great body of information respecting one of the most curious and interesting towns in the north of England. We suspect, as well from his name as from some peculiarities in the style of the work, that the author belongs to that denomination of Christians, who have deserved, as well as they have obtained, the appellation of 'Friends." It is almost a duty, at least it is a very honourable employment, for any man who has leisure, and information, and taste enough for such a purpose, to contribute to the local history of his vicinity. No present can be more acceptable to his neighbours than the result of such a man's inquiries into the state of the place or the district in which they dwell, at times remote from the present. When the task is undertaken by a person as well qualified as the author of the volume before us, it assumes a different aspect, and becomes a valuable contribution to the historical literature of the country. The distinguishing

The History of Pontefract, in Yorkshire, by George Fox. 1 Vol. 8vo. Fox, Pomfret. Longman and Co. London.