fort shut out;
while all our bright prospects only lie beyond the grave!'--'My dear
father,' returned he, 'I hope there is still something that will give
you an interval of satisfaction; for I have a letter from my brother
George'--'What of him, child,' interrupted I, 'does he know our misery.
I hope my boy is exempt from any part of what his wretched family
suffers?'--'Yes, sir,' returned he, 'he is perfectly gay, chearful, and
happy. His letter brings nothing but good news; he is the favourite of
his colonel, who promises to procure him the very next lieutenancy that
becomes vacant!'

'And are you sure of all this,' cried my wife, 'are you sure that
nothing ill has befallen my boy?'--'Nothing indeed, madam,' returned
my son, 'you shall see the letter, which will give you the highest
pleasure; and if any thing can procure you comfort, I am sure that
will.' 'But are you sure,' still repeated she, 'that the letter is from
himself, and that he is really so happy?'--'Yes, Madam,' replied he, 'it
is certainly his, and he will one day be the credit and the support of
our family!'--'Then I thank providence,' cried she, 'that my last letter
to him has miscarried.' 'Yes, my dear,' continued she, turning to me, 'I
will now confess that though the hand of heaven is sore upon us in other
instances, it has been favourable here. By the last letter I wrote
my son, which was in the bitterness of anger, I desired him, upon his
mother's blessing, and if he had the heart of a man, to see justice done
his father and sister, and avenge our cause. But thanks be to him that
directs all things, it has miscarried, and I am at rest.' 'Woman,' cried
I, 'thou hast done very ill, and at another time my reproaches might
have been more severe. Oh! what a tremendous gulph hast thou escaped,
that would have buried both thee and him in endless ruin. Providence,
indeed, has here been kinder to us than we to ourselves. It has reserved
that son to be the father and protector of my children when I shall be
away. How unjustly did I complain of being stript of every comfort, when
still I hear that he is happy and insensible of our afflictions; still
kept in reserve to support his widowed mother, and to protect his
brothers and sisters. But what sisters has he left, he has no sisters
now, they are all gone, robbed from me, and I am undone.'--'Father,'
interrupted my son, 'I beg you will give me leave to read this letter,
I know it will please you.' Upon which