innocence, stole down his cheek. Fervently, truly, affectionately, he
blessed his wife and child."

"They are gone. Was it a vision that had visited his waking dreams? The
spell is dissolved; he is still on earth, and earthly thoughts and worldly
crimes return and weigh down his soul."

"The fetters of vice are not broken in a moment; they may yield sometimes
like wax, but they close again, and the link is adamant. His foster-mother
came to say her last farewell. He shuddered as she entered. He felt the
presence of his evil genius, and wished she had spared him this. This, too,
was transient; her influence, though disarranged by the vision of the last
few moments, was not broken. He was again enslaved. The summons for
execution was answered by her hysteric sobs and wild ravings, and her loud
shrieks rang through the cell as De Lawrence impressed his last kiss."

The incidents of the previous sketch contain little, if any, extravagance
or affectation, and it would be better for men, if we could charge the
author of "Clouds and Sunshine" with overcolouring the sufferings which
await the spendthrift. It is painful to own that such cases are but too
common in society. Think of an extravagant man married to an extravagant
woman--the mean and contemptible conduct to which they are driven--the
insolence and cruelty with which they are baited through large towns,
hunted down into an obscure cottage in the country, or chased into exile.
Think of the hateful reflections which, sooner or later, must overtake such
sufferers--either in their moody solitude in the country, or amidst the
forced delights of a crowded city on the continent. In the one all nature
is free, whilst the debauchee frowns on her laughing landscapes; in the
other, conscience and her busy devils are at work--yet thousands thus
embitter life's cup, and then repine at their uncheery lot. With such men,