It will be a very saving compromise for our readers to refer John De Lancaster’s narrative to their recollection rather than to tire their patience with a recapitulation of what they have heard before. Let it therefore be understood that the eventful narrative has been minutely given; that Mr. De Lancaster with philosophical resignation has acquiesced in the dispensation of poor Philip’s death; that he has acknowledged the hand of Providence in the seizure of his murderer, and in the consummation of his dreadful doom; and that the happy return of our beloved hero, now sole heir of the De Lancasters and Morgans, with the brilliant prospect of Major Wilson’s fortunate connection, leave impressions on the hearers only tinged, not obscured, by sorrow and regret. When we reflect, said Robert De Lancaster, upon occurrences in all respects, save one, so prosperously, so providentially disposed, it would be an unpardonable offence in us, who have been listening to the narrative, were we to suffer one ingrateful murmur to escape us, because the general blessing, though beyond our hopes, and far above our merits, defeats our wishes in one single point. Cecilia will recollect how ill we jointly augured of the idle expedition, that has now proved fatal to the unhappy object, who obstinately would set out upon it, and returns a corpse. Fate has now struck him down, who would not wait to witness, as in duty bound, and to console, as by humanity it was required of him, a wife, who languished on the bed of death. Can we complain of this? Is there not justice in the dispensation? If then it behoves me, his father, to submit in silence, who amongst you will give way to lamentation? We will consign his body to the grave with suitable respect, and his memory to oblivion with as much philosophy as we can muster, for in the journal of his days, if every action was set down, there will be found not one, on which we can engraft a single word of praise to grace him with an epitaph. Therefore, my good and worthy brother Morgan, you, who by law, and I, who by nature, fathered this poor man, will pray for life, that we may see the hour, which but for this event, had joined the hands of those affianced lovers, now in our sight, destined, as I trust, to keep our names alive and lay our grey heads in a peaceful grave.