ct he owed himself.

When I called again, I was admitted, and having waited for some time in
the room, I saw a stranger approaching from the adjoining chamber, not
like a human being, but a tottering, trembling skeleton, with a pale,
sunken countenance, which, but for the fiery eye, one might have taken
for the face of a corpse. "Great God!" I exclaimed with horror, as I
recognised in this spectre my friend Francis, that once handsome, noble
fellow.

I sank terrified into a chair, and he sat down by me, took my hand
between his withered fingers, and said, "Yes! my friend, thus we again
meet, and you now understand why I wished to spare you this sad sight.
Yes! friend, all those curses have been realised, and calamity has
overtaken me, however actively I endeavoured to escape it; my life is
exhausted by disease, as well as that of my youthful wife, once a
paragon of beauty; I am a beggar, and all hope is gone for ever."

Still I could not recover from my astonishment; the first chilling
terror was succeeded by the deepest compassion and ineffable sympathy
in my soul, and my unfortunate friend saw my tears flow.

"But how has all this been possible?" I exclaimed, "Speak; confide all
to your friend."

"Spare me," he said, in a faint voice, "let us throw a veil over these
calamities, for what good can it do you to know the why and wherefore?
You would not comprehend nor believe it, and still less could your
advice or consolation avail any thing."

I could make no reply, his distress seemed so great, that he was,
perhaps, right in what he said. Words, details, and complaints, are
often only stings to the deadly wound. I requested him to introduce me
to his wife. He led her in. She seemed to suffer equally with
himself, but still showed evident traces of beauty. She was of a tall,
noble figure, her blue eye was of a piercing clearness, and her
sweet-toned voice was full of soul. After some conversation, the
physician entered, and I took my leave, making it a condition, that in
future he would not refuse to see me.

I required rest to collect myself, and, therefore, sought the most
solitary spot to arrange my thoughts and feelings. How strange, in
these moments, appeared human life, friendship, death, and health! In
these, my dreams, I was interrupted by a friendly voice addressing me.
It was the physician, an elderly, good-natured man, who sat down beside
me. "I have learned," he began, "that you are a youth