Clara’s health failed; penitence perhaps was little felt—but shame and wounded pride, and a cold neglectful husband, added to the pangs of a reproving conscience, carried her to the grave. She left one child, but that too has lately been laid by her side. Dudley is a bankrupt and a wanderer. Where he is I am unable to inform you. Rumor says that he has fallen a victim to the fury of a mob. And who reared that splendid monument to Clara’s memory? Her husband, neglectful, cruel to her while living, had it erected, as if in mockery—for it serves but to remind all who see it how little she deserved its inscription. But Matilda, my heart bleeds to think on her. She was the mother of one lovely child; but her health was gone. Her husband spared no pains to arrest the progress of disease; but it was in vain that he took her from north to south, from place to place: after two years absence from this village, she returned but to die. But how different was her end from that of her once beloved friend. The sympathy of all, the love of all, the blessings of the poor, accompanied her to her last home. Never shall I forget the joyful peace that illumined her dying face—nor the anguish of her mother, the agony of her husband, when, for the last time, she clasped her infant in her arms, poured out her heart in prayer, forgave her enemies, blessed her friends, and clasping her husband’s hand to her heart, breathed her last. You saw her tomb, and do you wonder that it says no external record is necessary for her praise. Two months ago, and I saw her laid in her last bed. And what became of Maxwell? Williams had an only sister; she is an inestimable woman, and she is his wife. He has met a rich reward for his generous conduct towards Matilda and her husband. He lives in that beautiful spot where the Wiltons once resided. Williams has taken his child and its grandmother, and gone to reside among her friends. His heart is deeply wounded, but the piety of his wife has induced him to look above for comfort. Long might I dwell on the moral of this narrative, but it needs no comment with you. The two tombs are called the “Contrast,” and justly do they deserve the appellation. Strangely blended in their destinies while living, it seems fit that they should thus repose near each other, if but to remind those who pass by, that _virtue_ and _vice_ alike meet their reward. _Editorial_. CRITICAL NOTICES. MEDICAL REVIEW. _The British and Foreign Medical Review, or Quarterly Journal of Practical Medicine and Surgery. Edited by John Forbes, M.D., F. R. S., and John Conolly, M.D. (American Edition.) Nos. I, II and III: For January, April, July, 1836._