ted against
the peace of the poor Irishman and Josiah Shirley.

George was so dreadfully agitated at this shocking sight, that Josiah
could scarcely keep him from fainting; and, calling Rachel, he bade her
lead George home, and fetch assistance from the village, whilst he
remained by the body.

Pat Lary, with some working hands, immediately ran to the spot, and,
raising the mangled remains of Simpson on a hurdle, they were conveyed
to the next house, there to remain till the Coroner's inquest could be
held on the body.

When Josiah returned home, he found George leaning against the window in
the parlour, pale and in tears. Knowing his unfortunate association with
the deceased, Josiah was not surprised, that the untimely death of this
unfortunate young man should deeply affect his friend; and, kindly
taking his hand, the amiable boy strove to comfort him.

"George! dear George! pray dry these tears: they really distress me.
Though Simpson merited his death, remember that God is merciful, and
all-sufficient to save."

"Oh, Josiah! I, too, have merited death!" exclaimed the agitated George,
burying his face in Shirley's bosom, and giving way to a fresh burst of
grief.

"We are all liable to err, George, and merit death every hour in the
day, if it were only for our vile ingratitude to that great and
munificent Being from whom we received the principles of our existence,
and upon whose bounty we depend from day to day. We cannot be saved by
our own righteousness; did not we read together last night, in the
Psalms--That God did not find one perfect amongst the children of men.
Then dry these unavailing tears, and return thanks to that divine
Providence that has saved thee from a similar fate."

George returned no answer to this speech for some minutes, but seemed to
be struggling with intense and overpowering feelings; at length, turning
toward Josiah, with a face burning with conscious shame, he said--

"Yes, Josiah, God has indeed called me to a sense of my past wickedness;
and I will no longer withhold from you the base cruelty with which I
suffered an innocent fellow-creature to bear the disgrace of my own
infamous conduct."

Then casting his eyes to the ground, in faltering accents, he
continued--

"Josiah, you suspected that poor Irishman of having broken your trees.
The dear, honest creature is innocent. I was the perpetrator, in
conjunction with that wretched Simpson."

Josiah started back, whilst the