venerable friend and father took me with him into the church-yard. We walked to the eastern corner, where, as we approached, I saw a monument standing almost by itself, and even at that distance, appearing to be of somewhat different character from any other over all the burial ground. And now we stood close to, and before it.

It was a low monument, of the purest white marble, simple, but perfectly elegant and graceful withal, and upon its unadorned slab lay the sculptured images of two children asleep in each other's arms. All around it was a small piece of greenest ground, without the protection of any rail, but obviously belonging to the monument. It shone, without offending them, among the simpler or ruder burial beds round about it, and although the costliness of the materials, the affecting beauty of the design, and the delicacy of its execution, all showed that there slept the offspring neither of the poor nor low in life, yet so meekly and sadly did it lift up its unstained little walls, and so well did its unusual elegance meet and blend with the character of the common tombs, that no heart could see it without sympathy, and without owning that it was a pathetic ornament of a place filled with the ruder memorials of the very humblest dead.

'There lie two of the sweetest children,' said the old man, 'that ever delighted a mother's soul- two English boys — scions of a noble stem. They were of a decayed family of high lineage; and had they died in their own country a hundred years ago, they would have been let down into a vault with all the pomp of religion. Methinks, fair flowers, they are now sleeping as meetly here.

'Six years ago I was an old man, and wished to have silence and stillness in my house, that my communion with Him before whom I expected every day to be called might be undisturbed. Accordingly my Manse, that used to ring with boyish glee, was now quiet; when a lady, elegant, graceful, beautiful, young, and a widow, came to my dwelling, and her soft, sweet, silver voice told me that she was from England. She was the relict of an officer slain in war, and having heard a dear friend of her husband's, who had lived in my house, speak of his happy and innocent time here, she earnestly requested me to receive beneath my roof her two sons. She herself lived with the bedridden mother of her dead husband; and anxious for the growing minds of her boys, she sought to commit them for a short time to my care. They and their mother soon won an old man's heart, and I could say nothing in opposition to her request but that I was upwards of three-score and ten years. But I am living still - and that is their Monument.'

We sat down, at these words, on the sloping headstone of a grave just opposite to this little beautiful structure, and, without entreaty, and as if to bring back upon his heart the delight of old tender remembrances, the venerable man continued fervently thus to speak:

The lady left them with me in the Manse-surely the two most beautiful and engaging creatures that ever died in youth. They were Twins. Like were they unto each other, as two bright-plumaged doves of one color, or two flowers with the same blossom and the same leaves. They

were dressed alike, and whatever they wore, in that did they seem more especially beautiful. Their hair was the same, a bright auburn-their voices were as one -so that the Twins were inseparable in my love, whether I beheld them, or my dim eyes were closed. From the first hour they were left alone with me, and without their mother, in the Manse, did I begin to love them, nor were they slow in returning an old man's affection. They stole up to my side, and submitted their smooth, glossy, leaning heads to my withered and trembling hand, nor for awhile could I tell, as the sweet beings came gliding gladsomely near me, which was Edward and which was Henry; and often did they, in loving playfulness, try to deceive my loving heart. But they could not defraud each other of my tenderness; for whatever the one received, that was ready to be bestowed upon the other. To love the one more than the other was impossible.

'Sweet creatures! It was not long before I learned to distinguish them. That which seemed to me, at first, so perfectly the same, soon unfolded itself out into many delightful varieties, and then I wondered how I ever could have mistaken them for one another. Different shadows played upon their hair; that of the one being silky and smooth, and of the other slightly curled at the edges, and clustering thickly when he flung his locks back, in playfulness or joy. His eyes, though of a hazel hue like that of his brother's, were considerably lighter, and a smile seemed native there; while those of the other seemed almost dark, and fitter for the mist

of tears. Dimples marked the cheeks of the one, but those of the other were paler and smooth. Their voices too, when I listened to them and knew their character, had a faint fluctuating difference of inflection and tone — like the same instrument blown upon with a somewhat stronger or weaker breath. Their very laugh grew to be different unto my ear

that of the one freer and more frequent, that of the other mild in its utmost glee. And they had not been many days in the Manse, before I knew in a moment, dim as my eyes had long been, the soft, timid, stealing step of Edward, from the dancing and fearless motion of Henry Howard.'

Here the old man paused, not as it seemed from any fatigue in speaking so long, but as if to indulge more profoundly in the remembrance of the children whom he had so tenderly loved. He fixed his dim eyes on their sculptural images with as fond an expression, as if they had been alive, and had lain down there to sleep - and when, without looking on me, whom he felt to have been listening with quiet attention, he again began to speak, it was partly to tell me the tale of these fair sleepers, and partly to give vent to his loving grief.

'All strangers, even many who thought they knew them well, were pleasantly perplexed with the faces and figures of the bright English Twins. The poor beggars, as they went their rounds, blessed them, without knowing whether it was Edward or Henry that had bestowed his alms. The mother of the cottage children with whom they played confused their images in her loving heart, as she named them

in her prayers. When only one was present, it gave a start of strange delight to them who did not know the Twins, to see another creature so beautifully the same come gliding in upon them, and join his brother in a share of their suddenly bestowed affection.

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'They soon came to love, with all their hearts, the place wherein they had their new habitation. Not even in their own merry England had their young eyes ever seen brighter green fields, trees more umbrageous—or, perhaps, even rural gardens more flowery and blossoming, than those of this Scottish village. They lived, indeed, mostly in a town; and in the midst of the freshness and balminess of the country, they became happier and more gleesome-it was said by many, even more beautiful. The affectionate creatures did not forget their mother. Alternately did they write to her every week -and every week did one or other receive from her a letter, in which the sweetest maternal feelings were traced in small delicate lines, that bespoke the hand of an accomplished lady. Their education had not been neglected; and they learned every thing they were taught with a surprising quickness and docility alike amiable and intelligent. Morning and evening, too, did they kneel down with clasped hands - these lovely Twins - even at my feet, and resting on my knees; and melodiously did they murmur together the hymns which their mother had taught them, and passages selected from the Scriptures, many of which are in the affecting, beautiful, and sublime ritual of the English Church. And always, the last thing they did, be