"It will do to-morrow." This belief, if it really amounted to any feeling of the kind, was the bane of Edward Collinson from his earliest youth. Whatever depended upon himself was invariably deferred; in consequence of which he was, what he termed himself to be, "the most unfortunate fellow in the world, always out of luck's way,"-but one whom wiser persons than he looked upon only as the just victim of procrastination. At school he never distinguished himself, though he had very fair abilities; and when he became a clerk in a mercantile house, he never gained a step but as he rose by regular rotation, and that simply because he failed in promptitude. His family were respectable, but far from affluent, all the members of it being called upon to exert themselves for their own maintenance as soon as they were able. Himself and his two next brothers were provided for; it was now a great point to dispose of the fourth son suitably. Many disappointments had occurred, and but few real opportunities of success presented themselves. At length a vacancy took place in the house of Williams & Co., where Edward had now been fixed two or three years. His father was well known to the parties; and as he himself bore the character of a very steady young man, and in consequence stood well with his superiors, an application in favour of his brother seemed very promising. As no time was to be lost, and Mr. Collinson was unable to call upon Mr. Williams, he wrote a letter to that gentleman, strongly urging him to regard his request favourably, and committed it to the care of Edward, with a strict injunction that he should deliver it himself immediately on his reaching the house of business.

Mr. Williams happened to be later than usual before he arrived, and Edward in the meantime had been despatched to the London Docks. Here he was detained some time; then recollecting that he had omitted to call the day before on some parties connected with the firm, he still further delayed his return by going to speak to them. When he again reached

Lane, he found on inquiry that Mr. Williams was preparing to leave; still, more than sufficient time was allowed him to deliver both message and letter, as his father had desired, without intruding upon his superior's arrangements. He was preparing to step forward, when seeing Mr. Williams lock his desk, and about to take his hat, he at once changed his intention. "It will do just as well to-morrow," said he; "my father is always so pressing in these things; and Mr. Williams will not thank me for keeping him. Now a few hours can make no difference." So reasoning he put the letter into his own desk, and saw Mr. Williams depart without further concern. The next morning he requested leave to speak to Mr. Williams almost as soon as he arrived. He presented the letter to him, and was about to deliver the message with which he was also charged, when Mr. Williams, who had glanced his eye over the contents, prevented him, by exclaiming, "How very vexatious! There is nothing that would have given me more pleasure than to have acceded to your father's wishes; if I had but known them yesterday, your brother should have had the situation. It was only

this very morning, just before I left home, that a gentleman called on me in favour of his nephew, and, having no one particular in view, I promised it at once to him. Assure your father that I am really very sorry for the circumstance."

So was Edward very sorry; but it was of a piece with everything else he undertook; if another person had anything to do with it, he would have been certain to suceeed; his old luck stood by him, if nothing else did.

Some time afterwards Mr. Williams was desirous of sending out a trust

worthy young man to his partners abroad. Edward had always entertained a strong desire to visit foreign lands; and as peculiar advantages were attached to the present proposal, he was very eager to secure it. Apply for it directly," was the advice of a friend; "there are several about it; but I have reason to think Mr. Williams expects you to make application for it, and would listen favourably to you." Edward professed thankfulness for the encouragement, determined on speaking immediately to Mr. Williams; and he did so; not that day indeed, there was no need for such haste as that, but on the next.

"Why didn't you speak to me before?" said Mr. Williams. "I have actually promised Nelson only an hour ago to send him out."

"Was there ever anything so unlucky?" said Edward, as he finished relating the circumstance to his friend by whose advice he had acted. "I am sure there is a spell against me."

And truly there was a spell against him, stronger than any incantation could make it; a spell which can render the strong man's intentions as flax, and destroy, without noise and without effort, the noblest fabric of man's wishes and intentions. If "procrastination be the thief of time," so is it also the ruin of his best-laid schemes.

When Edward had been some time longer in his present situation, his father met with losses in his profession, which ended alike in his ruin and his death. He left a widow and two daughters, totally unprovided for, and therefore dependent upon Edward as far as he was able to render them assistance. To add to his misfortunes, Mr. Williams at this time was thrown from his horse, and so much injured as to die almost immediately afterwards. The concern was soon after wound up, and Edward was left without employment. For some weeks he was thus painfully circumstanced; his old luck continuing, as he said, to follow him. Let him apply to whom, or for what he might, he was always only a few hours too late. So certain was he that it was of no use for him to seek after anything, that he really thought he might as well give himself no further trouble. At last, however, through the interest of some friends, he obtained a very good situation in a house formerly connected with the late firm of Williams & Co., in Jamaica. Before he left the country he assured his life for as large a sum as he was able, as a provision for his mother and sisters in case of his death. "Come what will," said he to them, "I have this satisfaction, that if you lose me, you will yet have something to depend upon." It was a sad parting between him and his family, for he was very affectionate, and was tenderly loved in return by his relations. His mother, in particular, seemed to suffer at the idea of separation, and by every argument in his power he sought to soothe her, and to reconcile it to her mind. His last words to her were, "My dear mother, if I did not see you thus distressed, I should leave you with cheerfulness, because I go in the full hope of being able to assist you materially, and perhaps eventually to restore you to the position in life you have been accustomed to occupy; for who can tell? Why may I not be as sucessful, after all, as many others have been, and return in a few years a rich man, make your old age comfortable and happy, provide for my sisters if they should not be already provided for, and leave for ever my ill luck to the scorching sun and the yellow fever?"

So spake Edward, and his mother clung to the comfort his words imparted; she repeated them to her friends, breathed them on her pillow, and at last persuaded herself that they were prophetical. The idea soothed her; and who would have wished to substitute painful reality for pleasurable

anticipation? Our life is, indeed, but as a vapour, over which the gleamings of hope diffuse a bright though illusory splendour, cheering to the eye and soothing to the heart; and as such may well be permitted to the sufferer and the bereaved, the afflicted and the weary.

Edward's "ill luck," however, on many occasions continued to follow him. Once in particular he had nearly lost his situation through his pertinacious belief that to-morrow would do as well as to-day. He was desired to see a person who was on the eve of sailing for England. The vessel had been detained many days by a contrary wind, and this evening there was a dead calm. It was absurd therefore to give himself any unnecessary trouble about the matter; there lay the vessel, and there it would lie; he would execute his orders early the next morning. But a breeze sprang up in the night, and increased to a steady and favourable gale; and when Edward, as soon as he rose, looked out of his window, the fluttering streamer was all that was visible to his eye. Would this have happened to any other person? No; he was sure it would not. No matter where he went, he believed, he always was, and he feared always would be, the most unlucky fellow in the world.

In the meantime his mother and sisters, in spite of the assistance he gave them, and which, to his credit be it recorded, was to the utmost extent of his power, experienced much discomfort, and were compelled to endure many privations. All exerted themselves for a maintenance; but females are sadly circumscribed in this respect, and their most strenuous efforts are often insufficient to procure more than a miserable pittance. To add to their troubles, Mrs. Collinson's health began to fail; and there were necessaries as well as indulgencies, the want of which was severly felt. Much as they concealed from their brother, a tone of melancholy, if not despondency, began to show itself in his sisters letters.

One of the partners of the house, Mr. Mason, pleased with Edward's amiable manners and correct conduct, took a great liking to him, and showed him on all occasions marked kindness. There was no reserve in Edward's disposition; and, won by Mr. Mason's condescension, he soon communicated to him all the circumstances of himself and family. With a generosity that distinguished him, that gentleman, on hearing of Mrs. Collinson's illness, immediately advanced him a sum of money for her use. Nothing could have come more opportunely than this loan. He had remitted nearly all his quarter's salary to his mother by the last packet, and the premium of his assurance was now due. If he recollected right, he had yet a few days' grace; he would look when he reached his lodgings, and if necessary he would call at the office and pay it, perhaps that evening, or as soon after as possible. He searched for the notice, but was unable to find it; no matter, he would stop on his way to business in the morning, and pay the premium at once. He did so-not that day but on the following. Your policy expired yesterday," was the reply of the clerk to whom he tendered the money. "I am very sorry; but it is no fault of ours; the proper notice was given you."

"This is the crowning height of my ill luck," cried Edward; "never was such an unlucky wight born as my unfortunate self." And with a heavy heart he entered the office, and seated himself at his desk. There, to his surprise, lay a letter directed to him; it having been transmitted by the writer to the care of Messrs. Warren & Mason. He opened it; when what was his astonishment and delight when he found it to be an official letter from a solicitor, informing him that a distant relation of his name,

As

whose death he announced, had left him sole heir to his property, which was something considerable; in the event, however, of his dying without issue, a more distant branch still than himself was to inherit it. Mr. Collinson had died in a distant colony, four months had elapsed since the news had reached England; in consequence of which, a pretty large sum of ready money was at Edward' disposal at the present time.

With a heart bounding with pleasure and gratitude he hastened to Mr. Mason, and put the letter into his hand. The kind-hearted man having read it, warmly congratulated him on his good fortune.

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"O! it is not for myself," cried Edward, "that I feel thus happy. My mother, my dear mother and sisters!"-the tears rushed into his eyes, and he paused; they shall now be as independent as myself," he resumed with cheerful voice; "for you will observe, Sir, that I have it now in my power to provide handsomely for them.”

"Lose no time, then," returned Mr. Mason; "the sooner you execute your intentions the better."

"I will give the necessary instructions immediately," cried Edward; "I will see Mr. Pearson about it to-morrow."

"To-morrow!" repeated Mr. Mason, fixing his eyes upon him with a grave and almost stern expression of countenance; "there is no to-morrow, Sir, in a climate like this, both you and I may be inhabitants of another world before the close of another day. Till something better can be done, write a memorandum of your intentions, and have it attested before you close your eyes." Edward promised to do so-took out his papers-reflected for a few moments how he should express himself-made a commencement-thought himself not quite well-he could do what he wished better after a night's rest. He threw down his pen, and retired to bed.

The next morning Edward's seat was vacant. Mr. Mason sent to his lodgings he had been attacked with fever, and was even then in imminent danger. The best medical advice was procured, but in vain; in a few hours he breathed his last, and "to-morrow's" sun shone on his grave.

MAN.

OH! what is man, great Maker of Mankind!

That thou to him so great respect dost bear:
That thou adorn'st him with so bright a mind,
Mak'st him a king, and ev'n an angel's peer?
Oh! what a lively life, what heavenly pow'r,
What spreading virtue, what a sparkling fire;
How great, how plentiful, how rich a dow'r,
Dost thou within this dying flesh inspire!
Thou leav'st thy print in other works of thine,
But thy whole image thou in man hast writ;
There cannot be a creature more divine,

Except, like thee, it should be infinite.
But it exceeds man's thought, to think how high
God hath rais'd man, since God a man became ;
The angels do admire this mystery,

And are astonish'd when they view the same.
Nor hath he given these blessings for a day,
Nor made them on the body's life depend:
The soul tho' made in time, survives for aye;
And tho' it hath beginning, sees no end.

SIR JOHN DAVIES.