ents with
ardent emotion, and presented it to Edgar. "Keep it, said Edgar, it is
thine. I bestow it upon thee as I would the original, had not death
become the rival of thy love, and my affection.--Suffer not the sacred
symbol too tenderly to renew your sorrows. How swiftly, Alonzo, does
this restless life fleet away!--How soon shall we pass the barriers of
terrestrial existence! Let us live worthy of ourselves, of our holy
religion, of Melissa--Melissa, whom, when a few more suns have arisen
and set, we shall meet in regions where all tears shall be eternally
wiped from every eye."

With what unspeakable sensibilities was it returned to Alonzo's bosom!
Edgar offered Alonzo pecuniary assistance, which the latter refused:
"I am in business, said he, which brings me a decent support, and that
is sufficient." They agreed to write each other as frequently as
possible, and then affectionately parted: Edgar sailed for Holland,
and Alonzo returned to his business at Mr. Grafton's.

Some time after this Alonzo received a message from Dr. Franklin,
requiring his attendance at his house, which summons he immediately
obeyed. The doctor introduced him into his study, and after being
seated, he earnestly viewed Alonzo for some time, and thus addressed
him:

"Young man, your views, your resolutions, and your present conduct, are
totally wrong. Disappointment, you say, has driven you from your native
country. Disappointment in what? In obtaining the object on which you
most doated. And suppose this object had been obtained, would your
happiness have been complete? Your own reason, if you coolly consult it,
will convince you of the contrary. Do you not remember when an infant,
how you cried, and teazed your nurse, or your parents, for a rattle, or
some gay trinket?--Your whole soul was fixed upon the enchanting bauble;
but when obtained, you soon cast it away, and sighed as earnestly for
some other trifle, some new toy. Thus it is through life; the fancied
value of an object ceases with the attainment; it becomes familiar, and
its charm is lost.

"Was it the splendours of beauty which enraptured you? Sickness may, and
age must destroy the symmetry of the most finished form--the brilliancy
of the finest features. Was it the graces of the mind? I tell you, that
by familiarity, these allurements are lost, and the mind, left vacant,
turns to some other source to supply _vacuum_.

"Stripped of all their intrinsic value, how poor, how