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us; but, after looking at us for a moment with some surprise, he proceeded on his way. As he passed, I saw, to my infinite relief and joy, expression again begin to spread over Eleanor's face. The tears rose in her eyes, and at last begun to flow freely. I don't know why it is,' said she, 'I was not thinking of that child-and yet the sight of his poor naked little feet, tripping over the hard sharp stones, brought tears to my eyes, as it were by instinct.' And she wept on, and I rejoiced, for the tears relieved her.

"I have often wondered at this since. I have thought it strange that this merely physical sight should produce tears in one who was in such a death-like state, and who had so much cause and will to weep, but could not. Neither could she ever account for it, more than in the few words which she had employed when it happened—I saw his bare feet on the rough path, and I cried.'

"Eleanor continued to weep, and I did not endeavour to check her tears. I feared to renew the unnatural and appalling state from which they had relieved her and I determined to say no more on the subject which had caused it. To my surprise, however, she begun it herself. After the silence had lasted some time, she strove to dry up her tears, and, turning to me, said, in a voice, firm indeed, but of a low, distinct, sustained intonation, which carried with it something unearthly-If it will give you happiness, it—it—it shall be as you wish-but—I could not live after it; and so saying, she sank upon my bosom, and began to weep unrestrainedly.

"Oh, God! what at that moment were to me all the gratifications of pas sion! How weak, how pitiful seemed to me then, the motive which had actuated me all along!-how cruel and remorseless did it appear, to desire to sacrifice her happiness to my own-nó, not even that-for happiness I knew it could not cause, even to myself. Here was this lovely and gifted creature-whom I loved with a love passing all human affection-throwing herself upon my feelings of mercy-yielding, but entreating to be spared. I do repeat, that at that moment all evil passion died within me. 'No,' I said in my heart, 'I will not sacrifice this dear one at the shrine of selfish and impure indulgence. I will cherish her in my inmost heart, but it shall be with the purity of a brother's love-though still with all the deep and overflowing tenderness of my own. I will spare her-and, oh how blessed will the feeling be hereafter, that I have done this good deed, when the temptation to a bad one was so fearfully strong-that I have preferred her happiness to my own enjoyment-her innocence to my triumph!'

6

"I paused some moments while these thoughts were passing through my mind, and then said to Eleanor, No, it shall not be, I never will urge it again; and, as I spoke, I stooped my face to her's, and our lips met for the first time. They then met in guiltlessness and purity-yes, purity; for the kiss which a mother imprints upon her new-born infant's brow, is not more free from unholy passion, than was that in which my lips were pressed to Eleanor's then.

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"We were now married. My heart's wildest wish-my imagination's most extravagant hope-were now realized. Our communion was now constant and permitted; our love was unreproved by man, and sanctioned by heaven. She was mine-mine before the face of the world, as well as on the altar of our own hearts-mine by the ties of lawful observance, as well as by those of irrepressible affection. And were we happy?-Alas! none who have been thus wedded will ask a question, the answer to which

is so sadly certain. Happiness can never be reached through guilt. What would be happiness under other circumstances, ceases to be so in these. The means have destroyed the end. If, six months before, I had been asked what would make me perfectly and transcendantly happy, I should have said without a pause-to be married to Eleanor. And now we were married-now she was my wife-and happiness was farther from me than ever. It was then before me-though beyond my reach; I was now past it, and it was irrecoverable.

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"The last time we were ever out together, was on an occasion of this kind; when the sky and the earth seemed alike lighted up by the glories of the setting sun. We paused opposite to it at that time when its radiance sheds a brightness and lively aspect over all within the horizon's compass. As the sun declines lower, there is an air allied to sadness thrown over the landscape; but it was before this that we stopped to gaze upon its beauties and its splendour. It was a very little way from the house-for she was too feeble to walk far. Alas! what a contrast she now was, to the radiant being I have described. Her form was wasted to a fearful thinness-to a degree of attenuation, indeed, almost unnaturalyet it retained that gracefulness of outline and of movement for which it had been so remarkable. But it was now the grace of languor, not of elasticity and buoyant youth. The deep red spot burned in the centre of her cheek the rest of which, as well as her brow, was of that clear, transparent whiteness, common to her disease. Her eye-that eye, whose expression I have never seen equalled, and which remains so intensely in my memory—her eye alone appeared unchanged. Yet even this was changed. Its brightness still remained, but it had an unhealthy glassiness superadded; and it was sunken within its hollow, which took from the power of its glance, and gave to it a more saddened expression. She leaned heavily on my arm, but before we had got far she complained of fatigue, and I supported her to a seat. We watched together the sun decline, and finally sink below the line of the horizon: we saw the glowing and brilliant colours, which he left in his descent, gradually deepen in the sky, till all became shadow; while, on the other side, the beauties which the heavens wear by night, grew, first vaguely, and then by degrees, more strongly visible. The stars began to glitter one by one, and the firmament became more distinctly and brightly blue. As the chill of the night came on, I pressed Eleanor to go in, but she begged to stay to gaze, for the last time, on the loveliness of night. "I know," said she, "I never shall come out again-I am so feeble, I scarcely could get these few steps-I must cease to attempt it altogether. Let me, then, stay, that I may gaze on all that Nature has of soft, and solemn, and enchanting-that the last time my eyes rest on it may be with you. The evening of my life has come, the night is fast approaching let me look on this emblem of the fate which is so near me; and, Oh! let me hope, that after the agitations of the day, and the shadows of the night-fall, I may wake to the puré, solemn, beautiful serenity of a state like this!"--She bent her head upon my shoulder, and laid her cheek upon mine-it was hot even unto burning; and the wasted and fleshless fingers, which I held within my own, were dry and parched. But her spirit was unfevered by the body's illness, and she prayed to heaven with me that night-for the last time in that most glorious and holiest temple, Nature-with that calm resignation, that solemn and subdued, but yet

assured hope, which are the best passports to the blessed immortality for which they implore.

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Why do I dwell on these scenes? Is it that I dread approaching that of death itself? On that, indeed, I cannot dwell.-Life ebbed away in gentle, imperceptible, but sure gradations. Her mind had ceased to suffer sometime before her death, on all points but one-her child. She had no cause for anxiety concerning it, as regarded itself—but yet in the last days of her existence she longed to have with her that being to whom she had given birth-whom she had loved more tenderly, perhaps, if not so fervently -if not so passionately, more purely, than any other upon earth. She would speak of her child more and more often as her death drew near-the last word, indeed, which she distinctly pronounced, was her child's name; but after articulation had ceased, her last look was given to me-her last sigh was breathed upon my lips."

*

The model of this tale, without its absurdity, is to be found in the Adolphe of Benjamin Constant.

HENRY THE FOURTH OF FRANCE.

THE education which this great man received was calculated to make him fond of woodland scenery, and the sports of the field. Sent to a remote castle, amid the dreary rocks in the vicinity of the Pyrennean mountains, delicacy had no part in the education of the youthful Henry. His ordinary food was brown bread, cheese, and beef. He was clothed like

other children of the country, in the coarsest stuff, and was inured to climb and rove over the rocks, often barefooted and bareheaded. Thus, moreover, by habituating his body early to exercise and labour, he prepared his mind to support with fortitude all the vicissitudes of his future life.

Hunting was ever the favourite diversion of this monarch. He often strayed from his attendants, and met with some adventures which proved pleasant to himself, and evinced the native goodness of his heart, and an affability of disposition, which charmed all who had an opportunity of observing it.

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Being on a hunting party one day in the Vendomois, he strayed from his attendants, and some time after, observed a peasant sitting at the foot of a tree:-"What are you about, there?" said Henry. I am sitting here, sir, to see the king go by." "If you have a mind," answered the Monarch, "to get up behind me, I will carry you to a place where you can have a good sight of him." The peasant immediately mounts behind, and on the road asks the gentleman, how he should know the king. "You need only look at him who keeps his hat on while all the rest remain uncovered." The king joins his company, and all the Lords salute him: "Well," said he to the peasant, "which is the king?" "Faikes," answered the clown, "it must be either you or I, for we both keep our hats on.”

RELICS for the CURIOUS, 2 vols. 12mo. Samuel Burton, Leadenhall-street.

THESE interesting volumes embody a valuable, and most interesting colelection of most curious Clerical, Professional, and Miscellaneous Anecdotes. As they are not professed to be original-the best test of our approbation of them is to make copious extracts from them.

GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS, KING OF SWEDEN.

GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS, King of Sweden, happening, at a public review, to have some dispute with Colonel Seaton, an officer in his service, gave him a blow; which the latter resented so highly, that when the field business was over, he repaired to the King's apartment, and demanded his dismission; which his Majesty signed, and the Colonel withdrew, not a word being said on the subject by either party. Gustavus, however, having coolly considered the matter, and being informed that Seaton intended to set out the next morning for Denmark, he followed him, attended only by an officer, and two or three grooms. When his Majesty came to the Danish frontiers, he left all his attendants, except one groom; and overtaking Seaton on a large plain, he rode up to him, saying, "Dismount, sir! That you have been injured, I acknowledge: I am now come to give you the satisfaction of a gentleman,-I am now out of my dominions,-Gustavus and you are equals. We have both, I see, pistols and swords; alight immediately, and the affair shall be decided." Seaton, recovering from his surprise, dismounted as the King had already done; and falling on his knees, said, "Sire, you have more than given me satisfaction, in condescending to make me your equal. God forbid that my sword should do any mischief to so brave, so great, so generous a prince. Permit me to return to Stockholm, and allow me the honour to live and die in your service." The King raised him from the ground, embraced him, and they returned in the most amicable manner to Stockholm, to the astonishment of the whole court.

RICHARD THE THIRD.

In the walls of the ancient house of Sir Edward Dering, in the county of Kent, pulled down some years since and rebuilt, a Latin manuscript was found, written by a natural son of Richard the Third, not mentioned by any of our historians. The occasion of its lodgment was as follows: This youth was privately educated in the country, at a great expence, under the best masters in every science. The tuition answered the royal expectation. The night before the fatal battle of Bosworth Field, the King sent for him, and he was privately conducted to his tent. The attendants being dismissed, he declared to him the grand secret; that he was his father, and presenting him with fifteen hundred pounds, (a large sum in those days,) said, "Son, thou must wait the issue of to-morrow: if fortunate, I will acknowledge thee, and create thee Prince of Wales; if the battle goes against me, and I fall, forget what thou art, and live retired; there is that (giving him the money) which will procure you a maintenance." The son withdrew to a place of secrecy and observation. The fatal day came--the battle ensued—

Richard fell. His son immediately set off for the capital, and placed himself with a mason of great eminence, being about sixteen years of age. The gracefulness of his person and behaviour bespoke that parentage, which, however, he had the art and address carefully to disguise. The master quickly discovered the genius of his apprentice, whose skill and judgment he relied upon in the nicest and most difficult parts of architecture. Being engaged in some alterations and repairs in this ancient house, Richard's son was sent down to superintend the workmen, where his wit, not less than his ingenuity, was so engaging, that the owner of the seat retained him, to build on his estate a little mansion for his residence. He lived some years in this retirement, devoted to reading and contemplation, in great repute for his learning, piety, and modesty; and during that period, he wrote his life. At the approach of death, he gave the manuscript to his patron, with a request not to read it till after his decease. He recovered, but soon after died; and the aforesaid manuscript (inclosed as it is supposed, by his friend within the wall) was not known or discovered, till so late as 1768. It is now in the possession of the family of the Derings, to whom the lovers of history, and the public in general, would be greatly obliged for the publication.

PHILIP THE THIRD, KING OF SPAIN.

WHEN Philip the Third, King of Spain, sent his ambassador to treat with the States of Holland, about their independency, he was shown into an anti-chamber, where he waited to see the members of the States pass by. He stood for some time, and seeing none but plain-dressed men with bundles in their hands, (which, as many of them came from distant provinces, contained their linen and provisions) he turned to his intrepreter, and asked him when the States would come. The man replied, "that those were the members whom he saw go by." Upon which, he wrote to the commanderin-chief of the Spanish army, to advise the King his master to make peace as soon as possible. In his letter was this remarkable passage:-"I expected to have seen in the States a splendid appearance: but instead of that, I saw only a parcel of plain-dressed men with sensible faces, who came into council with provisions in their hands. Their parsimony will ruin the King my master, in the course of the war, if it is continued: for there is no contending with people whose nobles can live upon a shilling a day, and will do every thing for the service of their country." The King, struck with the account, agreed to treat with them as an independent state, and put an end to the war.

LORD THURLOW.

ONE day, when Lord Thurlow was very busy at his house in Great Ormond Street, a poor Curate applied to him for a living then vacant. "Don't trouble me," said the Chancellor, turning from him with a frowning brow; "Don't you see I am busy, and can't listen to you? what Duke or Lord recommended you?-The poor curate lifted up his eyes, and with dejection said, "he had no Lord to recommend him but the Lord of Hosts!"—"The Lord of Hosts," replied the Chancellor, "the Lord of Hosts! I believe I have had recommendations from most Lords, but do not recollect one from him before; and so, do you hear, young man, you shall have the living;” and accordingly presented him with the same.

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