In the midst of many worldly schemes, which it would have required a length of years to accomplish, Mrs. Melbourne was seized with a dangerous disorder. Mrs. Seymour paid her a visit of half an hour every day; but the remainder of the day was spent in solitude, which afforded no very comfortable reflections to her mind, the opportunities of doing good which she had neglected, being the subjects of her frequent meditation. How different is the opinion which we cherish of ourselves in the days of health, and when we feel the approaches of death! At the appearance of that king of terrors, 65 the delusive mist which self-love throws around our vices and our weaknesses, ‘melts into thin air,’ 66 and the naked heart shrinks from its own observation.