"In the morning thou shalt say, Would God it were even! And at even thou shalt say, Would God it were morning! for the fear of thine heart wherewith thou shalt fear, and for the sight of thine eyes which thou shalt see." Deuteronomy, xxviii. 67.

"I once did heare of a great foreign lord, who was haunted by a most strange phantom, the presence of which was so dreadful, that it drove him for the time to madnesse. Some folke would say that the nobleman did only see himself, or that his conscience did appear before his eyes in a human shape. Therefore, young men, I would admonish ye, in the words of the learned Master Burton, to bethink yourselves, that, after many pleasant daies, and fortunate adventures, and merry tides, this conscience doth at last arrest us. - As the prodigal son had dainty fare, sweet musick, at first, merry company, jovial entertainment, but a cruel reckoning in the end, as bitter as wormwood.'"

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The Young Man's Looking Glasse."

VISION OF CONSCIENCE.

I HAD been ill almost unto death. I awoke into consciousness many long, weary hours before I could speak, and I saw about my bed many pleasing forms; I could just distinguish that their garments were those of some religious order. One of them, whose countenance was very mild, whose voice was like gentle music, would sometimes stand and gaze upon me, or touch my burning hands with her soft, cool fingers. She was the superior of the sisterhood, and had lived since her youth (a period of thirty years) within that convent. They quitted the room, and for the first time the phantom appeared. He stood beside the bed in my own form. Ill and pale he seemed, but the working of a stronger power than sickness. was seen upon his face. He sat down

on the bed close to me. I had no fear of him at first, but I shrunk away rather in anger than affright-I was then in a strangely confused state. I fell into a heavy sleep, but a low, distinct voice soon awoke me, and I beheld the same figure sitting beside me. As my eyes opened, he drew closer and bent down his face over mine. I started up, but the face was still close to mine; and when, exhausted with the effort, I dropped back on the bed, it was bent over me, just as before. I raised my hand to thrust it away, but the phantom face could not be thrust away it was even as the thin air. I shut my eyes, but then I felt a damp and icy breathing all over my face. I resisted no longer; a voice, in every tone my own voice, spake to me from lips that seemed also mine. I cannot remember the multitude of words which were poured out in oc oceaseless confusion into my ears, till my every sense was maddened nay, till at last I lay wholly stunned and senseless. Sometimes the voice was loud with rage-sometimes the phantom placed its hand upon my shoulders, and bent its face so close to mine, that I could

feel it draw up the breath from my lungs, and stop their motion; and then it whispered its low, deep curses, till my heart felt blistered by them: sometimes the mouth would open widely, and a loud and insulting laugh came pealing and rattling down the throat, till F raved with fury-then again the counte nance would become calm, and beam all over with smiles, and sweet gentle tones would scarce part the lips; but every word that was spoken would be to describe some shameless event of my infamous life; and then, if my rage burst out, the face would smile, the voice whisper even more calmly-calmly-calmlyaye, till the smile became a sneer, a cold, bitter, heartless sneer.

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When I awoke again, I almost expected to see the face, that seemed mine but was not my own, bent over me. It: was not there, but night had come on, and the pale, silvery moonshine streamed into my chamber. Some kind hand had opened the lattice, and placed on its sill a vase full of orange-flowers: the fresh, cool air bathed all my heated face, and brought with it the pure fragrance of the flowers. All

was silent around me, till, with a gradual swell, a sweet and solemn music rose from the organ of the chapel, and the clear liquid voices of the nuns blended into a rich stream of harmony. I felt too calm, too happy, and with restless fear I rose up I looked round the chamber-the face was no where to be seen.

I laid down my head, gushed from my eyes. but my soul was not. and yet not my own, spake as a friend speaks who is fearful to disturb one : "I am here," it said; "you shall not miss me long."

and a shower of tears My senses were soothed, The voice that was mine

The door of my chamber opened, and the gentle prioress, with two of her nuns, entered. She took the lamp from the hand of one of her companions, and partly shading it with the folds of her white veil, she drew near the bed and gazed upon me. My eyes were open - I saw her plainly-I could have replied to her mild and tender words, but I stared at her in sullen silence, and shut my teeth and my lips firmly. A look of kinder pity passed into her soft eyes, and turning to her companions, she said, "He is worse, I fear; we will pray for