Some years afterwards, being told that the young lady's life was in danger, she resolved to cross the sea that divides the islands, in order to afford her every consolation in her power, by condoling with her, sharing her griefs, and thereby endeavoring to alleviate the sorrows of her heart. As attendants in her voyage, Mrs. Gordier took with her a beloved brother and an only surviving son. When they arrived, they were advised by the apothecary, who attended the young lady, not to surprise her by an unlooked-for visit, till she was prepared by degrees to receive it; but, notwithstanding all the care that could be taken, the sight of the mother brought to her mind the full remembrance of the son, and the shock was too great for her weak spirit to bear: she fainted upon the first approach of Mrs. Gordier, and it was with difficulty that she was brought to herself. The mother was curious to know every little circumstance that attended the last interview of the young lovers, and of all that had passed since the discovery of the murder of her son; and the young lady was no less earnest to prolong the conversation, but her fits returned at almost every period, and she could only say how tenderly they parted, and with what ardency she expected his promised return the next day. It was no small concern to the afflicted mother, to see the poor lady in this weak state, dying, as she plainly perceived she was, of a broken heart; and the company present could not forbear vehement execrations against the author of this double distress.

Mrs. Gordier, all on a sudden, burst into a flood of tears, on seeing a jewel pendant to the young lady's watch, which she knew her son had purchased as a present to her, before he left the island of Jersey. The violence of her grief was observed by the young lady, who had just spirits enough to ask her the immediate cause. Being told that the sight of a jewel, the presentation of which to his beloved bride, was to be the pledge of their mutual happiness, revived in her mind her irreparable loss, the young lady was seemingly struck with horror and astonishinent at the declaration, and, touching the jewel, as with an expression of contempt, sunk into the arms of her weeping visitor, and without uttering a single word, except only M.

C-a-r-breathed her last. The manner of her expiring seemed to involve a mystery. All present were astonished. The confusion which her death occasioned, stopped, for a time, all further utterance; but when every means had been used to restore her, without being able to bring her to life, and when the effusions of sorrow, poured forth at her death, had for a while ceased, all who were present began to speak what they thought of her behavior in her last dying moments. Mrs. Gordier, who was totally unacquainted with the soft and delicate temper of the deceased, could not help dropping some unfavorable expressions concerning her manner of leaving the world, which she thought plainly enough indicated a knowledge of the murder. Her own parents, who were present at the last affecting scene, fired with indignation at the insult offered the unspotted innocence of their darling child, could not help resenting the ungenerous interpretation put upon the last closing moments of her blameless life. A scene of trouble and mutual reproach ensued, which is easier to conceive than to relate. When the commotion, however, was a little abated, and reason began to take place, the friends of both families very cordially interposed, and endeavored to reconcile the mothers by a cool examination of the circumstances that occasioned the unseasonable neat.

Young Mr. Gordier recollected, that he had heard his brother declare, that the jewel in question was to be presented to his bride on her wedding-day; and, therefore, as that had never happened, his mother might be justified in her suspicions, though perhaps the lady might be innocent. The sister of the deceased calmly replied, that she believed the warmth that had happened to be founded on a mistake, which she thought herself happy in being able to correct. The jewel, she said, which her sister wore, was not presented to her by Mr. Gordier, but was a present to her some years after his unhappy death, by Mr. Galliard, a very reputable merchant in Jersey, who had very assiduously paid his addresses to her, encouraged so to do with a view, if possible, to relieve her mind, by diverting her affections to a new object; that as many jewels have the same appearance, that purchased by Gordier, and that present

ed by Mr. Galliard, might probably not be the same. Mrs Gordier very readily acquiesced; and, having had time ta recover her temper, fell again into tears, and in the most affecting manner apologized for her late indiscretion, adding, at the same time, that if it was the jewel purchased by her son, his picture was artfully concealed within it, which, by opening, would put the matter beyond a doubt. The sister, nor any of the family, had ever seen it open, and knew nothing of such a contrivance. Young Gordier in a moment touched a secreted spring, and presented to the company the miniature inclosed, most beautifully enriched. The consternation was now equal to the discovery. The mystery was unravelled. It was instantly concluded, that the horror of the murder must have struck the deceased, and the detestation of the murderer overcame her. The contempt with which she wanted to spurn the jewel from her, and her desire to declare from whom she had it; all these circumstances concurred to fix the murder on Mr. Galliard, who, having been formerly her father's clerk, the last word she attempted to utter, was now interpreted to mean the Cl-a-r-k.

The clergyman who was present, and who gave this relation, being the common friend of Galliard and the family where he now was, advised moderation and temper in the pursuit of justice. Many circumstances, he said, may concur to entangle innocence in the snares of guilt, and he hoped, for the honor of human nature, that a gentleman of so fair a character as Mr. Galliard, could never be guilty of so foul a crime: he therefore wished he might be sent for, on the present melancholy occasion, rather as a mourner than as a murderer; by which means the charge might be brought on by degrees, and then, if innocent, as he hoped he would appear, his character would stand fair; if guilty, care should be taken that he did not escape. He added, in support of his counsel, that a man, once publicly charged with murder, upon circumstances strong as the present appeared, though his innocence might be clear as the sun at noon-day, to those who examined him, yet would never again be able to redeem his character with the world, let his whole life after be ever so irreproachable.

The greatest part of the company seemed to approve

of his advice and reasons; but it was visible by the countenance of Mrs. Gordier, that she, in her own mind, had prejudged him guilty. However, in conformity to the advice that had been given, Mr. Galliard was sent for, and in a few hours the messenger returned, accompanied by Mr. Galliard in person.

The old lady, on entering the room, in the vehemence of her passion, charged him abruptly with the murder of her son. Mr. Galliard made answer coolly, that indeed he well knew her son, but had not seen him for many days before the day of his disappearance, being then out of the island upon business, as the family in whose house he now was, could attest. "But this jewel, (said the mother, showing him the jewel, open as it was,) is an incontestible proof of your guilt: you gave the deceased this jewel, which was purchased by my son, and was in his possession at the time of his death. He denied ever seeing the jewel. The sister of the deceased then confronted him; and taking it in her hand, and closing it, "This jewel, (said she,) you gave to my sister, in my presence, on such a day, (uaining the day, the hour, and the place,) you pressed her to accept it; she refused it: you pressed her again; she returned it, and was not prevailed on to take it, till I placed it to her watch, and persuaded her to wear it." He now betrayed some signs of guilt; but, looking upon it when it was closed, he owned the giving of it, and presently recollecting himself, said he knew it not in the form it was first presented to him: "But this trinket, (said he,) I purchased of Levi, the Jew, whom you all know, and who has travelled these islands for more than twenty years. He, no doubt, can tell how he came by it." The clergyman now thought himself happy in the counsel he had given; and, addressing himself to Mrs. Gordier "I hope, madam, you will now be patient till the affair has had a full hearing. Mr. Galliard is clear in his justification, and the Jew only, at present, appears to be the guilty person: he is now in the island, and shall soon be apprehended." The old lady was again calm, and forced to acknowledge her rashness, owing, as she said, to the impetuosity of her temper, and to the occasion

that produced it. She concluded by begging pardon of Galliard, whom she thought she had injured.

Galliard triumphed in his innocence, hoped the lady would be careful of what she said, and threatened, if his character suffered by the charge, to refer the injury to the decision of the law. He lamented the sudden death of the unfortunate young lady, and melted into tears when he approached her bed. He took his leave, after some stay, with becoming decency; and every one, even the mother, pronounced him innocent.

It was some days before the Jew was found; but when the news was spread, that the Jew was in custody who had murdered young Gordier, remorse, and the fear of public shame, seized Galliard, and the night preceding the day on which he was to have confronted the Jew before a magistrate, he was found dead, with a bloody penknife in his hand, wherewith he had stabbed himself in three places, two of which were mortal.

A letter was found on the table in the room, acknowledging his guilt, and concluding with these remarkable words: "None but those who have experienced the furious impulse of ungovernable love, will pardon the crime which I have committed, in order to obtain the incomparable object by whom my passions were inflamed. But thou, O Father of mercies! who implanted in my soul those strong desires, wilt forgive one rash attempt to accomplish my determined purpose, in opposition, as it would seem, to thy Almighty Providence."

THE UNCALLED AVENGER.

THE return of the victorious Russian army, which had conquered Finland, under the command of General Buxhovden, says Mr. Oldecop of St. Petersburgh, was attended with a circumstance, which, if it is true, has at all times been usual in the train of large armies, but which naturally took place to a much greater extent in these high northern latitudes, where the hand of man has so imperfectly subdued the original savageness of the soil. Whole droves