them, when they were free to enjoy the blessings of a country life.

Keroob had been so particular in requiring their presence at an early hour that morning, that she almost feared he had been contriving some new way of burdening time, and that other pompous bridal ceremonies still awaited them. But as soon as she saw him these fears quite vanished from her mind, and were succeeded by others of a very different nature. His garments of gladness and all his ornaments were laid aside, and he was wrapped in a coarse mourning robe of sackcloth. His head was no longer anointed with perfumes, but strewed with dust and ashes. His face, which during the feast wore a perpetual smile, was now disfigured by sorrow, and his whole appearance seemed immediately to proclaim that some irremediable misfortune had overtaken him.

There are particular qualities by which. certain bodies are irresistibly propelled towards each other: Affliction had this magnetic power over the mind of Sephora. She instantly advanced towards him, and with

looks of the tenderest and most open-hearted compassion, inquired the cause of his dis

tress.

He told her he was fasting. That notwithstanding his having all the good things of this world at command, he was not one of those irreligious people who forget their duty to God or man, and though he was thankful to say he had no sins of his own to repent of, yet he thought it right to fast sometimes by way of example to his dependents, and to let the people see that he did not neglect such things.

He then desired Sephora to open a chest that stood in the room, and give him out the rolls of money that were there. She did as she was required, and he put them into his girdle and walked out of the room; telling her that if she pleased she might follow him, for he made no doubt, from all that he had heard of her, but that she would like to see the poor relieved, and hear the blessing of him who was ready to perish.

Sephora accepted the invitation, and followed him down the orange avenue, till he

reached the gates that opened into Nain. Here a servant was stationed, who no sooner saw his master's approach, than he ran up into a small tower that was erected over the porch; and, standing on its battlements, blew a trumpet with a shrill and lengthened sound. The signal was well understood in the city, and Keroob was soon surrounded by a multitude of poor people, who were most vociferous in their praises and blessings. He lengthened his countenance as he dealt out his bounty to them, that they might have the twofold advantage of witnessing his religion, and experiencing his good works.

He relieved the greater part of the supplicants, but clamour seemed with him to be the peculiar test of merit; and those who were loudest in his praises partook the most freely of his liberality.

This work engaged him for some time, and he returned to his house in such complacency with himself, that he took no offence at Sephora's silence; he was even pleased by it, as he did not doubt but she was meditating on what she had seen, and

that she was most deeply impressed by his munificence and charity.

Sephora herself did not find it so easy to decipher the emotions of her mind, as Keroob had done for her. His religion was so different to any thing she had ever seen before, that it perfectly astonished her. She wished not to condemn him; yet, when she saw the studied austerity of his garb and countenance, the publicity of his beneficence, and the complacency with which he listened to the most fulsome flattery, she involuntarily thought of Patrobus, and of the simplicity of his love to God and man.

The more Keroob thought his daughter was surprised by his greatness or goodness, the more anxious he was to awaken in her further wonder, by giving her fresh tokens of his magnificence, power, and devotion.

She was just going, in the afternoon, to bathe herself in the fountain in the inner myrtle grove, when he sent one of the maids, who were following her with oils and washballs, to call her back, and tell he was just proceeding to sit in judgment at the gate,

and he wished her to go with him, as it would be a new scene to her, and likely to amuse her. She complied with his request, though she would rather not have gone, for she knew that the hour of evening prayer would arrive before she could return, and she always wished to pass that time in retirement. But she thought there would be something ostentatious in giving this as a motive for her refusal. She was not quite sure either, whether there might not be something of hypocrisy in it, as well as osten tation; for, on her return from the bath, she had been thinking of sitting with Caphtor, and weaving a basket for him, while he looked over and repaired the arms that had been damaged by the games in the wilderness.