242 THE JESSAMINE. 



'vvith strict propriety be called a bower. Tlie upper 

 part of the wall was more gaudily attired, in all the 

 variations of green moss, yellow and blue creepers, 

 and the dark red of the wall-flower. JJeyond 

 these, nothing appeared but a strip of sky. At 

 the foot of the rampart some thrifty hand had ar- 

 ranged a narrow plantation of balm, sage, parsley, 

 and thvme, so close that the introduction of any 

 other shrub was impossible : of course, the old 

 wall possessed the sole claim to the designation of 

 a flower-garden ; and, circumstanced as I then 

 was, I learnt to be thankful for any medium that 

 led my eye to the brighter world above ; for, in 

 truth, all sublunary things were exceedingly dark 

 around me. 



It was impossible, at least to me, to avoid iden- 

 tifying the Jessamine with her who owned that 

 narrow spot, and who was peacefully journeying 

 on, to take up her last earthly abode in one still 

 narrower. Disease had blanched her check to the 

 wbiteness of the flower, and bowed her frame like 

 its declining branches; while the nature of her 

 malady forbade the continuance of her once fa- 

 vourite occupation of training and propping the 

 Jessamine. Cancer, in its worst and mo<t excru- 

 ciating form, had seized upon her; and, at the 

 time whereof I speak, it had spread from the side 

 to the arm, reducing her to a slate of sufTering not 

 to be conceived but by those who have closely 



