 day; and partook of all the pleasure which dissipation can confer upon its votaries. It certainly was not a species of pleasure which an enlarged mind

would pursue, or a feeling heart would relish; and occasionally it became so very tiresome, that, from the languor of their countenances, an uninformed spectator might have mistaken gaiety for penance. They sought for happiness as laboriously as an alchymist for the philosopher's stone; but found, that, like that undiscovered treasure, happiness was a hidden property, which mocked all the researches of the dissipated.
Julia's perplexities and sorrows did not make her negligent of Mrs. Meynell's affairs; and, though some of the evils under which she laboured were such as admitted of no remedy, Julia determined at least to remove the miseries of penury: a situation which exposes a delicate mind to those mortifications, of which, however galling, it were abject to complain, and unavailing to demand sympathy; since, though the world is liberal of its alms to poverty,

wealth has monopolized its respect.
Mr. Clifford had, at Julia's solicitation, procured for Capt. Meynell a profitable appointment in India; and, the moment the affair was settled, she flew to Mrs. Meynell, and informed her of the success of the application. Mrs. Meynell attempted to speak, but her voice faltered, and she was unable to proceed. As the eye is oppressed by sudden light after darkness, so her heart was overpowered by sensations to which it had long been a stranger, and she burst into a violent fit of tears: but, how delicious are such feelings! Alas, the sources of misery, that give rise to tears, are many and various; but how seldom do they proceed from the overflowing tide of happiness!
Julia acquainted Mrs. Meynell, that it would be necessary for Capt. Meynell to go to India in a few months, and

invited her, in Mr. Clifford's name, to take up her residence in his family during the absence of her husband. Mrs. Meynell received the invitation with rapture. "To find an asylum," cried she, in a voice frequently interrupted by tears, "to find an asylum beneath your roof, to enjoy your society, is to me, of all plans, the most soothing. Oh, after having so long contended with the world, after being shocked by neglect, or obliged to combat with insolence, how will your gentleness heal every wound of my heart!—Is there indeed such happiness reserved for me? Can the period be near when
