dually gave place to resolution; and, pressing the boy convulsively to his breast, he endeavoured to explain that he would soon return. But he received no answering signs of intelligence. The glazed eye of his child was raised, for a moment, to his speaking and agitated countenance, with stupid wonder; and was then heavily weighed down-it seemed by suffering. The father could bear no more ;-he rushed from the door, and said, raising his clasped, hands to heaven, I appeal to thee, oh God! to spare my child! If a life devoted to thee and to my boy-thy gift-has found favour in thy sight, oh, spare him! and how immeasurably shall I be repaid!' For a moment, something like conviction that his prayer was heard crossed his mind. Then he recurred to the helpless state of his poor idiot, and despair took place of hope. "It was a cold December evening. He returned to the cottage, to put his shivering child to bed; and then set off on his anxious journey.And what prayers did he put up to the throne of the Almighty, that his endeavours to procure medical aid might prove successful and effectual! He walked fast, but the road seemed to lengthen before him. The night had now set in; and Allan pursued his way, in breathless suspense and agony. He felt cold at heart; and his anxiety, instead of hastening, seemed to retard his progress. He, first, felt a rigidity about the muscles of his legs,-then intense pain. His walk came languid, more languid.At last, the power of motion was utterly denied him ;-he sunk down upon the snow,-a burning fever at his heart. He would scarcely have heeded physical pain, had he experienced it; but it had passed away-and his agitated heart, contrasted frightfully, with its frenzied beatings, the torpidity of his frozen limbs. Let men boast of their power of volition! Here was a wretch stretched upon the earth, to whom it was many deaths to lie there, who, had he possessed one particle of the free-will with which man's pride hath sought to robe his weakness, would instantly have returned to the bed-side of his loved, unconscious one, who might be dying for want of aid! "Three hours after Allan had left his home, he was lying, still, in the same posture,-apparently stiffened into a corpse. But he was no longer alone.-A face, -soft as those Italian skies smile upon-was pressed close to the hard and marble lineaments of the worn Scotsman. A fond hand patted his rough head, and urged him to awake. It was his idiot boy; who had followed, at a distance, the only guide he had ever known, tracing his steps, in the snow, with that instinct which seems so like intelligence. The father, though speechless and motionless, yet saw and heard his child,-saw and heard him with his heart! -for all outward avenues to thought and feeling were locked up, in a spell of ice. The poor innocent rubbed his hands; and sought, by every method, to impart some of his own warmth to the father of his own life, but all in vain!—The gentle boy imbibed the parent coldness, instead of imparting his own heat; and, gradually declining his lovely head, that head so sweetly shadowed with its own beauty,-his arm around his father's neck,—died, calmly and sweetly, in that attitude of love. "Allan was found, on the following morning, conscious of all that had passed. But the cold preyed upon his vitals; and he only told the story of his feelings that dreadful night,-then hastened to his boy, as if, in death, he still needed his watchful tenderness. 66 "They were laid in the same grave!" MONA ་། THE COMET. BY HENRY NEELE, ESQ. O'ER the blue heavens-majestic and alone- See, how the countless hosts of heaven turn pale,- And the stern Gorgon on his brightness rests I Who, to the stars, has their bright courses given, FROM THE GERMAN. WHEN lone, by day's declining light, When, by the moon's uncertain ray, And heaves the heart, in pleasing fear,- |