in the grief which sinks me, and I will encourage it till nature gives way before its influence."

"Whence this sudden sorrow, Pembroke?" asked his friend, in a tone of great solicitude. 'My own cares lie heavy on my mind, but thy affliction, spring it from what cause it may, sorely affects me."

"Alas, Lionel, my peace of mind is lost for ever," returned the earl.

Hey-day," said Sir Lionel.-" Impart thy sorrows to thy friend, and he will strive to heal them."

"Think it not unkind, Lionel, but that I never can. I bid adieu to joy for ever, unless that can be considered joy, in feeling a pleasure in feeding a sorrow which is too deeply rooted to admit of relief, even at the hand of friendship. No, the cause of my misery shall perish with me."

"Sorrow shared with a friend, is half lost," said Sir Lionel with emphasis, 66 so let me learn thy grief, for the telling of it, will take off its keen edge, when the balm of sympathy

will soothe and alleviate, if not wholly remove it."

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My grief will never know change," said the earl "The cause which creates it, can, alone, assuage it :-the bane and antidotethe bane exists, but its antidote, alas!—is only in the grave."

"Thou speakest in enigma, Pembroke," said Sir Lionel. "Bethink thee better of it, and let me learn thy sorrow, lest I have cause to think thou doubtest my friendship :-true friendship shares weel or woe with its object."

"I know thy sensitive heart, Lionel," returned the earl, "and, therefore, would spare thee the pang of knowing the wretchedness of thy friend, which is out of thy power to alter, otherwise than to increase it, which the certainty of giving thee needless pain, by unfolding it to ye, would occasion.-Lionel, press me no further," and the unhappy earl lowered the beaver of his helmet, as if to closet himself with his sorrows from all further observation.'

By this time, the gay and splendid Saracen encampment had sunk upon the scene some hours, and the night began to fall in a lightish grey, spreading a soft and gentle shade over all nature. The declining sun from the west, and the rising moon from the east then shed, together, an interfulgent beam, which seemed to uphold, for awhile, the advancing mantle of evening, till the sun receded over the wave, leaving, for the night, the pale full moon to her reign of loveliness with which its shades were silvered.

The travellers now pitched their tents with which they had been provided, refreshed themselves with food and drink, and then betook themselves to repose. Nought could induce the Earl of Pembroke to take refreshment, and he laid himself down, not to sleep, but, by a show of it, to ease the mind of Sir Lionel, who had evinced the deepest concern for his friend's acute and heart-broken misery. As soon as he thought Sir Lionel was soundly sleeping, he rose up, and paced the sands in front of the tents, giving way to the liveliest despondency.

VOL. II.

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His eye was on the firmament: yet, he saw not the bright moon creeping on with her train of silver beams, in which the stars twinkled, but added no light; nor the sea of small fleecy wavy clouds which brightened beneath her face, and melted away with their brightness; no-the beautiful appearances of the heavens, at this time, were lost upon him, though the heavy clouds of sorrow, which hung over his mind, would surely have been lightened by the contemplation of them; they were destined, however, to be lessened by other means:

He continued to pace the sands, to and fro, engrossed by a woe so poignant that his mind seemed to be estranged from all other considerations. He had stepped beyond his usual limits, when his attention was first attracted by the sounds of an instrument, and then rivetted, unconsciously, by a soft and melodious voice, which accompanied them with the following lines.

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My joys were as gay as the flowers of May,
That the blight of the east fast wither away,

And like flowers that ope and die in a day,
They rose, to fall into an early decay.

How sweet was my youth, and how glad were the hours;
As sun to the fruit, was a parent's fond care:

I now wander alone, in sorrow that low'rs,
And bereaves me of bliss where'er I repair."

"There is a sorrow like to thine, Pembroke," said Sir Lionel, who had been some time watching, unobserved, the motions of his friend, and whose address, at the conclusion of the air, startled the earl. "Learn,

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therefore, not to repine uselessly, for there are griefs in the world, as great, or greater than thine own. Come in to thy tent, and seek rest, and in the morning, inform me touching thy unhappiness."

"Lionel, condemn me not, but I really have felt a consolation in learning that another is as miserable as myself," returned the earl. "But tell me, Lionel, whence is that music? It is not European; it is of eastern melody, soft, pathetic and bewailing. I could wish to hear that strain again."

"Thou art right, Pembroke, the music is of the east, and the instrument is the Israelitish harp, the chords of which were touched