Mr. Athelstone stood on the steps of the altar. He began—and he finished the holy ceremony, which was to bind so many faithful hearts into one interest, in this world, and in the next. And when he consigned the married pairs to the benediction of their parents, (in the light of one of whom stood Sir Anthony Athelstone,) he raised his devout hands, and solemnly pronounced his general blessing.

Cornelia wept in sisterly congratulation on Alice's bosom; and when she relinquished her to the enraptured Ferdinand, her sweetest tears dropped on the shoulder of the no less happy Louis. Wharton's arm supported the agitated frame of his future bride, while he clasped his friend's hand in his with a felicitation that knew no utterance. Mr. Athelstone looked on the kindred group with the feelings of a parent; and piously exclaimed,

"O! how amiable are thy dwellings, thou Lord of Hosts! For here, mercy and truth are met together. Righteousness and peace have kissed each other!" "And may such, dearest sir," said the Duke, turning his bright countenance towards him; "be ever the Guests of the Pastor's Fire-side!"

FINIS.

Printed by A. Strahan,
New-Street-Square, London.

Transcriber’s Notes

List of Archaic and Variable Spelling (not an exhaustive list)