e iron bars, with
unavailing rage--that he called on God to help him--not in the fervor of
faith, but the recklessness of frenzy, the impotence of despair.

Suddenly a deadly sickness came over him, and reeling back to his
pallet, he buried his face in his hands and wept aloud--and the wail of
his soul was that of the first doomed transgressor, "My punishment is
greater than I can bear."

While there he lies, a prey to keen and unavailing agonies, we will take
a backward glance at the romance of his childhood, and the temptations
of his youth.

Bryant Clinton was the son of obscure parents. When a little boy, his
remarkable beauty attracted the admiration of every beholder. He was the
pet of the village school, the favorite on the village green. His
intelligence and grace were equal to his beauty, and all of these
attributes combined in one of his lowly birth, seemed so miraculous, he
was universally admitted to be a prodigy--a nonpareil. When he was about
ten years of age, a gentleman of wealth and high social standing, was
passing through the town, and, like all strangers, was struck by the
remarkable appearance of the boy. This gentleman was unmarried, though
in the meridian of life, and of course, uncontrolled master of all his
movements. He was very peculiar in character, and his impulses, rather
than his principles, guided his actions. He did not love his relatives,
because he thought their attentions were venal, and resolved to adopt
this beautiful boy, not so much from feelings of benevolence towards
him, as a desire to disappoint his mercenary kindred. Bryant's natural
affections were not strong enough to prove any impediment to the
stranger's wish, and his parents were willing to sacrifice theirs, for
the brilliant advantages offered to their son. Behold our young prodigy
transplanted to a richer soil, and a more genial atmosphere. His
benefactor resided in a great city, far from the little village where he
was born, so that all the associations of his childhood were broken up
and destroyed. He even took the name of his adopted father, thus losing
his own identity. Had Mr. Clinton been a man of pure and upright
principles, had he been faithful to the guardianship he had assumed,
and educated his _heart_, as well as his mind, Bryant might have been
the ornament instead of the disgrace, the blessing instead of the bane
of society. He had no salient propensities to evil, no faults which
righteous wisdom might