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self-denials, or to the most heroic sacrifices. He that strong in their mildness, that he faltered under its speechhears that prayer, and gives that strength, knows alone less influence, and exclaimed where it is most needed; for He alone can judge of the “Ginevra, you can break my heart, but not bend my merit of those sacrifices to which the world so often ren will. You may plunge us both into despair, but you shall ders much more or much less than justice. Pale still, not pursue your course unmolested. Do not imagine but patient and calm, Ginevra left her room, and joined that you can brave me in every way, or that I will not her father and her sister. With that perfect simplicity sacrifice everything in the world, rather than endure the and earnestness of character which was peculiar to her, silent humiliation of the last few days—your name in she reproached herself for having neglected to do her best every mouth!-your shame proclaimed aloud! Aye, your at the rehearsal of that morning-at having allowed her shame! though the world knows it not; and into my very own sufferings to interfere with the satisfaction of others cars instils the poison of its slander. Did you imagine I --and it would have been touching to any one who could should bear this, and tamely acquiesce in my dishonour have known how sore and bruised that gentle spirit had and in yours ? To my face, this very day, displaying been that day, to have seen her take up that manuscript, with audacitythe very sight of which was painful to her, and con it over • The colour rushed to her face; a storm was gatherlike a child its lesson, while now and then she disentangled ing on her brow ; a torrent of recrimination was rising to Margaret's knitting, or raised her eyes from her work to her lips; a woman's insulted, wounded, goaded feelings smile at Colonel Leslie, who since the morning had wero struggling for mastery, and well nigh burst all watched her with anxious tenderness. She observed this ; | barriers, and broke through all restraints; but she paused it gave her a motive for exertion."

and prayed for patience, and with a strong hand kept The play was performed in the presence of Ne- own that rising passion, and, with an effort of more than

human virtue, pleaded for herself. She, the victim to ville. It was one that caught his conscience :- the tyrant, the deserted wife to the jealous husband! Oh, the pit, in the boxes, in the galleries. The first act ends, ground he had assigned her, to brave his anger, to scorn “What an actress ! How she acts !' is whispered in what a relief to the oppressed spirit it would have to defy,

to threaten, to upbraid, to take a haughty stand on the the curtain falls, the applause continues.

“ How can you sit on, like a stone, Neville, when his threats in his presence, even if her own heart should that girl is enough to drive one mad? Did you ever see

afterwards break in his absence! But there was a word any thing so captivating ? D'Arcy is desperately in love stamped upon her brain, engraved upon her heart, which with her. No wonder, for they have been rehearsing to passion could not efface, or anger obliterate. Expiation gether, morning, noon, and night, for the last three guilty to his charges, but to accuse her own ignorance, to

was that worl; and it brought her to his feet, not to plead

entreat his indulgence, to implore bis guidance, and then, And now it was Edmund's turn to be tortured with her eyes fixed upon his face, and her hand clas with jealousy :

in his, to wait for his next words, as if her sentence of “She has not answered his letters-she has disregarded life or of death turned upon them. And now was her his requests, liis entreaties against her acting—she has

worst trial-now her guardian angel must support hercast him off, and the ties which he has refused to acknow

now the saints in heaven should pray for her—for Edledge, have ceased to bind her conscience. Ile blames, mund has drawn her to his breast, and his heart is beathe condemns, he despises her—he thinks that her religion ing against hers, and his eyes are fixed upon hers with might have taught her better. Ho forgets everything, unutterable love; and that voice, which slie has so often but that he loves her still, and that she loves him no in ber solitude pined to hear, is pouring forth into her more."

ears words of passionate affection, of ardent supplication

and when she attempts to speak, he closes her mouth Need we say that Ginevra had never received any with kisses, and drawg her still closer to himself. He of her husband's letters-never learned the wishes pleads, he reasons, he holds the cup of bliss to her she would have been too happy to obey.

lips, he tempts her by every art, he scares her by every

fear. From this point the work is full of continuous lasts; and then, suddenly leaving his side, she stands be

She grows pale and paler as the fierce conflict interest. We shall give but one scene of fiery tore him, and says trial. At a ball, Ginevra is receiving the passion. But we must stop. Ginevra triumphs ; the good ate declaration of Sir Charles d'Arev, and quite angel, as she supposes, is by her side, whispering stunned, is at a loss what to reply, when she saw

that “ life is too short ; eternity too long," for her husband

the awful sacrifice of principle required of her :“In a moment Edmund was by her side; he offerc her his arm, as if they were engaged to dance. She took this trial much longer. I love you, and make you miser

""Save me-save me,'" she said ; "I cannot endure it in silence, and they stood among the crowd. Suddenly

able. a voice at his elbow said

I would give my life for you, and I embitter " • You do not waltz---what are you about ?'

yours ; my wretchedness can scarcely be more comIt was Mrs. Frazer who spoke. Then Ginevra felt

plete.' that they flew swiftly round and round, in the midst of

“Go,'” said Edmund gloomily; "'go, and tell that crowd, to the sound of that loud music, and she

your family-90, and tell that crowd of people yonder scarcely knew if what oppressed her heart and her brain that you are my wife. Then, at least, no insolent adwas joy or suffering. His arm was round her waist, and mirers will dare for a while to address you ; and if they her head was gradually sinking on his shoulder.

ask what is become of your husband, you may tell them Stop!' she said; and they drew back and pierced that he is ruined, dishonoured, and undone, through that crowd, and still he dragged lier along, without speak you, and by you—"" ing, down a long shrubbery walk, and across a wood, till | They parted, with the conviction on Neville's they reached a small temple, built in the Italian style, part, that he had offended his deserted and inwhich stood at the end of a vista. Edmund darted within sulted wife beyond woman's forgiveness. jiand closed the door, bolting it inside. The coolness of the atmosphere revived her. Ile had let go her hand, “ And then, in days to come, how should he see and was standing opposite to her, with his arms folded, her?-If she should ever fall into guilt, would not her and his countenance lowering with speechless anger. fall weigh on his conscience like a dainning curse ; and She clasped her hands, and exclaimed

the memory of her lost virtue haunt him to the day of his " . At last-and thus!' and then, rising with impe- death like a menacing spectre? What could save her, tuosity, she stood before him, and raising her head he bitterly asked himself, if, hating him-her husband proudly, returned his glance ; and in hers there was such and her betrayer—she stood in the world with her mighty upbraidings-such overpowering reproaches, so youth, her beauty, her warın heart, and her ardent spirit, unguarded by sacred ties, unprotected from unbal- Ginevra had not long enjoyed the quiet of the lowed affections, and with a life before her unbrightened convent, when she accidentally heard that Mr. by one ray of hope or of love? What can save her he Neville was that day to be married at St. George's repeated with agony ; and then he thought of her religion--her firm, ardent, uncompromising religion—that Church, Hanover Square. All particulars were religion, against which the winds of human passion had related to her. The coincidence was perfect. It beaten, and the waves of affiiction had broken in vain

was too surely her false husband who was about to that religion, to which she had clung through the storm, plight his faith to another woman, and plunge and which had carried her through it with an unshaken himself into deeper guilt. Her flight, her agonies, fidelity, and an unsullied purity.” Events now hurry forward. One day the dis- madness, ere she rushed through the portal of

the incidents of her journey, and her final raving tracted and miserable, if guilty husband, after an the church, and reached the altar where her husabsence of some weeks from London, went to band stood, are harrowing in the detail. We Colonel Leslie's house and found that the whole need not say that it was all mistake, though, family had gone to the Continent, attended by certainly, Mr. Charles Nevillo was there, and Sir Charles d'Arcy. He was on the verge of then about to be married to the sister of Edmund. frenzy, but Ginevra, whatever were her husband's thoughts of her, had not accompanied her family; ter's marriage, rushed towards poor Ginevra as

Edmund himself, necessarily present at his sisShe was ill. She daily now expected her aged she tottered into the church. He felt, he saw relative and spiritual director, Father Francesco, that she was mad—that he had driven her mad. by whose decision she was resolved to abide, and she had told Margaret :

“It was horrible torture that Edmund Neville was

going through. He had married a woman he adored ; “ The crisis of my fate is approaching, and, as I said he adored her still, and he had driven her madto have before, it is in prayer and in solitude that I must meet it. killed her would have been less dreadful. Once she had Doubts have risen in my mind which never rose there be said to him, • How will you answer at the day of judgfore, and I seem to have lost the track which, narrow as ment for torturing a human soul into destruction?' Her it was, once appeared so clear. When this happens to a soul, blessed be the God whom she served, had not been Catholic, Margaret, this is what he does. For a while, lost in the fierce conflict; but even this he knew not. if he may, he withdraws from this perplexing world, and Where she had been, what she had done, whither she communes in deep silence with his own soul and with

was going, what design, or what chance had brought her God. In one of those calm retreats, when the light of into his presence in that hour of retribution, he knew eternity shines on the paths of this life, and the still small not; nothing but that she was there by his side, and that voice of conscience is discerned by the hushed spirit-he life was ebbing, and reason failing.' listens to that solemn message, and returns to the world like Moses irom the mount, ready to break the idol, or to Catholics, and we inight learn the fact from this offer the sacrifice that Heaven requires. This is what I book alone, have great faith in the merit of sufam about to do ; far from those I love and those I fear, fering—of expiation-and dreadful was the expialone with my God, and those who speak in His name and with His power, prostrate at the feet of the cross, I will ation of Edmund Neville as he watched day ask in deep humility what he will have me to do; and and night by the bedside of his delirious and that, so lielp me Hleaven, I will do, though it should be dying wife.

sister, what I have prayed against from my childhood upwards, to bring misery on those I love, and pour

One mightier than himself had smitten him with his fresh bitterness into a cup already but too full. Now,

own weapons, and condemned him out of his own mouth.

Then he, for the first time, fult whom he had striven dearest, go and sleep; and if in the night you wake with tears in your eyes, remember that they are blessed, for against, when he had put his own human will in opposi

tion to the conscience of a fellow-creature, and the naturo you have wept to-night with one who weeps."

of the warfare he had waged against the faith of that Ginevra sought this sacred and soothing retreat, young heart, which had not yielded in weakness, but broand though she found not the guidance and peace that bed and prayed, as we pray when death is at hand

He felt it, and he prayed-he knelt by for which she prayed, its tranquillizing power was

and no help near-as they pray when earth gives way felt, and is described in coloured language :

beneath their feet, and eternity opens before them,” “When she entered her little room, its simple arrange- One other idea brought something like consolament, and its various religious ornaments, reminded her of her Italian liome; and the sacred Litanies chanted by

tion to Edmund. the nuns--the same which, from her infancy upwards, she

“He would proclaim her his wife on her deathbed and had loved to join in, wherever a humble choir of wandering sacrifice on her grave every worldly hope-every earthly peasants, or of home-bound children, recited them bef re


He would fetch his sister to her side, and with some way side image of the Blessed Virgin-carried her his dying treasure in his arms, bid an eternal farewell to back to the days of childhood, and awoke in her heart a all he had ever valued, and which he now lonthed as tho fervent gratitude, that her faith had made no shipwreck in price for which he had bartered Ginevra's life. Save the midst of the storms which had besct it. Who can

her,' he said, and convulsively grasped the doctor's hand; describe what the language of the Church is to a Catholic

save her, and me-if you can.' the type of its universality, the badge of its unity! that voice, reaching unto all lands, and speaking to all hearts: Ile fulfilled his purpose, he revealed all to his uttering the same well-known accents in the gorgeous sister, who, strict Protestant as she was, said to temples of the south, and the Gothic shrines of the north, him, Mercy will be shown


sufferas in the rustic chapel or in the mountain care, where persecuted worshippers meet in secret. At every altar, ings are great." And mercy was shown ; Giin every sanctuary, each sacred rite and solemn hour claims nevra was restored from the very gates of death to the words of sacred import, which fall on the ear of the life and reason, and it was found that the elder stranger and the wanderer, at once as a whisper from his Neville, if bigoted, had not been retrospective in home, and a melody of Heaven.


purposes. It was to Father Francesco, who “Ginevra's eyes filled with tears as she joined in the well known responses, but they were tears that relioved now appears on the scene, that Anne Neville related the heart and brain.''

the tragic story of her brother and Ginovra, while

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she vindicated, as far as was possible, the memory slender as the threads of the gossamer—as if she had of him to whose religious opinions all their only been restored to him for a while, to save him from miseries might be traced. In her hands her fa

despair, and to teach him to repent.” ther had, at her entreaty, placed a codicil virtually To lead him too, it is to be inferred, onwards to the revoking his will, and leaving his whole property

bosom of the true and “eternal church.” And thus to his son, if it should happen that Edmund the work closes, leaving the sister-heroines each had married a Catholic previous to the solemn happy in her own way—fond hearts watching warnings and denunciation which had been sent them—deep love attending them—“exemplary to him in Italy. Thus all comes right at last, and in their lives, and united in their affections." Ginevra issues from the furnace, like gold seven

As Lady Georgiana Fullerton is probably contimes refined. And soon there is a merry wed- sidered the most distinguished female writer of ding at Grantley Manor. Margaret, the thrice her party—a party which has lately made large, happy Margaret, has given her heart and her hand and often skilful, use of fiction and poetry to to her “ Old Walter,” and her stern father had, spread and inculcate its tenets, notions, and nos. . by this time, learned fondly to appreciate the trums—we have deemed her new romance depriceless gift which he joyfully bestowed upon his serving an extended notice ; and now our readers old friend.

must be nearly as well qualified to judge of its Colonel Leslie, however, found it difficult all various merits as ourselves, who have patiently

As a liteat once to forgive the husband of his passionately- gone through its length and depth. loved Ginevra.

rary work, it will be considered not superior to

her first production ; though the spirit and ten“But his child was happy, and she loved her husbanda deney, if not the object of both the stories, are By degrees it grew easier to forgive, but still he could not forget; the wound had been too deep, the suffering


very same, too recent. It was not till sometime afterwards, when Along, however, with its strong catholicism, Ginevra led him to a spot near Darrell Court, where the “ Grantley Manor” exhibits a more enlarged first stone of a Catholic chapel was laid, and he read the catholicity, howsoever deeply alloyed with what inscription it bore : * In memorial of an eternal repentance protestants regard as puerility, superstition, and and an eternal gratitude,' that his feelings softened towards Edmund Neville."

will-worship-evident in every page.

If any And Ginevra,

permanent moral lesson is to be drawn from “ If her hopes and joys were of a more exalted nature, the danger and probable misery to be apprehended

the work, it must be one of warning against and her aspirations of a higher order than those of her sister, was it strange that it should be so ? Had not by a Roman Catholic lady, rigid in her adhelife shown her depths of miscry which inexperience can- rence to the mint and cumin, as well as to the not fathom? Had not her spirit hovered on the confines weightier matters of her creed, who shall rashly of eternity, and almost taken its wing for the mansions marry a Protestant, or connect herself closely with of heaven? She returned to life-to its duties and its those who do not bow at the altar,” which blessings ; no smile was sweeter than hers, no serenity deeper, and no tenderness more touching; but a seal from infancy she has been taught, unquestioning, had been set on her brow, which nothing could efface. to revere, as the chosen and only shrine of the Death had been near her, and had left a message for her “pure” and “eternal faith ;” and the only safe soul, and the melodies of earth could not overpower that and “true rule” of life, in all its bearings.

We whisper. This was Edmund Neville's trial in the midst of happiness. He ever felt as if an angel was lingering presume that the lesson may be useful, although at his side-as if the links that bound her to life were

the circumstances be reversed.


Within a mile of Ifracombe, North Devon, lies in a deep dell the pretty hamlet of Chambercombe, near which, falling into decay, may be seen the house of which the following sonnets tell.

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In a dcep dingle, passing Larkstone hill,
And on to Helesbro's difficult ascent,
With the gruff gurgle of a hasty rill
Sounding within my cars, as on I went,
I came upon a lone, deserted mansion,
Ilid among unpruned boughs—and with a scent
Of damp and rotten leaves. The drear expansion
Which Ruin makes, invaded all the ground,
Destroying window-frames and palings. Round
Lay bricks and broken panes of window-glass;
Whilst here and there the mischievous had found
A cranny for an arm or leg to pass :-
What is that place?" I asked when I got home-
“ It is the Haunted House of Chambercombe !"

In sooth it is a dark tradition, told
And credited by cottage dame and clown;
And briefly sball the tale be noted down
For thee, dear reader! Heiress of much gold,
A girl of weakly wit, but hale and bold
Of health, two brothers fierce did own;
Who for her riches envied her with cold
And desperate hate-for they could claim no hold
Upon that wealth, which, to possess, they plann'd
A darksome deed-a deed of guilt and gloom.
The wretched maiden, by her brothers' hand,
Fell, in her midnight sleep at Chambercombe ;
The murderers perish'd soon—the gold forwhich theypanted
Enrich'd them not-and lo! the house is haunted !





"Locus in Quo."

of cathedral, parliament, or university, left the rule and In the west of "La belle France” is a department management of the town to the wealthy and industrious called “Les deux Sevres,”' from two rivers of the same burghers, whose thriving activity had raised it to be, in name which run through its territory; and the capital of population at least, a rival of the capital. There, this department is the thriving little town of Niort. streets, straight though narrow, and long rows of modeSince the days of Charles VIII. and the Maid of rately sized houses, uninterrupted by large breaks of silent Orleans, this district has not been so much frequented gardens, intimated the subordination of private to the by our ubiquitous countrymen as most other parts of public importance. France; and a residence on the banks of the “Sevre The moral contrast between the two towns was not Niortaise''

'-as the southern of the two streams is named, less striking than their physical difference. Law, physic, to distinguish it from its sister river-might be confi- and divinity reigned in Poitiers. It was when the dently recommended to some of those English who noblesse de l' épce met the “noblesse de robe” within may be frequently heard lamenting the difficulty of the walls of their own parliament towns, that the latter finding a spot where they may live unmolested by the were most able to compete with and make a stand against sight or sound of others of the same species. It is a the jealousy and overbearing pretensions of the more strange subject of complaint this; though all who have ancient and more barbarous sword-nobles. So law and rambled on the Continent must have heard it from the mother Church divided Poitiers pretty equally and exlips of sundry of their wandering countrymen. Little clusively between them. Both these old ladies with complimentary, too, one would suppose it, when addressed all reverence and veneration be it said-are known to to an Englishman, yet shall you hear it at Pau, at Carls- be of somewhat sedentary habits, prone to maintain bad, at Sorrents, under the Cedars of Lebanon, or at themselves and all other things "in statu quo,great Tadmor in the desert. Mrs. Smith confiding to Mrs. worshippers of constituted authorities and routine, and Thomson her distresses at being unable to discover a little given to movement or mutation of any sort. It spot uninfested with English! and that with an amount is clear, therefore, that Poitiers was no desirable abiding of self-complacency indicating the conviction entertained place for new-fangled notions or heresies in religion or by Mrs. Smith that she was hereby clearly manifesting politics. Such things, alas ! will arise from time to her own superiority to all the common and unclean herd time in the best regulated states; and even Louis Quatorze, of her compatriots. To the French this sort of absurdity grand monarque as he was, could not entirely keep men is especially unintelligible, except on hypotheses far from from thinking. advantageous to the English-hating Englishman in When, therefore, new opinions kept springing up with a question. One of the objections to the solitary system of perversity which has often been seen to reward the imprisonment is the great quantity of prison-room it re- efforts of paternal governments—like quickset hedges, all quires. And a great deal of the world it takes to find the more stiff and thick the more often they were cut sufficiently isolated lodgings for the fancies of our dear down—the commercial little town of Niort, unprotected by anti-gregarious countrymen. But there is still accommo- those influences which have been described as spreading dation, as has been said, for one or two in the department their peaceful wings over dreamy old Poitiers, became of “Les deux Sevres."

much infested by Huguenots and Calvinists.

The town, A pleasant country, too, is this district of the ancient it must be owned, did not seem to flourish the less on this province of Poitou, undulating, green, well wooded, well account. watered, and rich enough in deep verdure and silvan Such was the state of things in Niort towards the beauty to remind the traveller of the prettiest parts of middle of the seventeenth century—the period to which Nottinghamshire, rather than of the brown monotony of our historiette relates. So that when the king's immoral the greater part of France. And Niort, the capital of life drove him to the necessity of making up for it by this pleasant country, is for a French town an active, persecuting the Huguenots—the mode of pleasing God thriving, commercial little city. In the old times, when which was least personally troublesome to himself-and Poitiers was the capital of the province of Poitou, and the prison of Niort, like that of many other towns, was before Niort could in any degree vie with it in size and turned into an instrument of conversion, the inhabitants importance, the two towns were strongly contrasted in of that city, Catholic as well as Calvinist, disapproved of their nature and appearance. Proud Poitiers was a the measure. true medieval city, a legitimate, though the youngest, child of the feudal system. Its cathedral, its parliament, its university, its long and intricately tortuous streets,

THE HUGUENOT AND THE HUGUENOT's wire. compelled to twist round many a sharp corner by the In the year 1635 the prison of Niort, that same gloomy huge town mansions of the Poitevin noblesse, and forced looking old castellated tower, which may still be seen between long lines of dead wall by their large gardens, frowning on the town from the top of the little eminence all contributed to impress upon it the genuine stamp of which constitutes the most commanding spot within the an old provincial capital of the first class. Niort, on the walls, contained more than one prisoner for conscience contrary, was a young commercial upstart. The absence sake, victims of the king's piety.



One group, among those who were at that time in- , for the noblesse of France found nothing galling to their mates of the prison, hare found a place in the partial pages pride in treating with kindness, and even frequently with of general history. The Sieur D’Aubigné and his wife familiarity, those who were sufficiently beneath them to were among the Huguenots confined there on account of be their creatures and dependants. But Jacques Bartheir faith ; a fact which the world would have long since tenau was a rich merchant of Niort. Two prides would, forgotten, had it not happened that within those cheerless therefore, have had to be overcome and made to bend, walls on the 27th of November in the above-mentioned before any association could have taken place between year, that lady gave birth to a daughter, who, after fifty him and the violent sword-noble. And both these prides of a life comprising more strange vicissitudes than the were of the stiffest. boldest novelist would dare to relate as probable, became Nor would their community of feeling on religious matDe Maintenon, and wife of Louis XIV. Yes, reader: ters have helped in any material degree, as might at first strange as it seems, the infant, born of those parents sight be supposed, to draw them together. The then imprisoned for their Calvinist creed, was she who Huguenots were a large and mixed body; and their dealt in after years the deadliest blow, almost a death numbers were augmented by proselytes from all ranks of blow, to Protestantism in France, by causing, on the 22d society, whose motives for dissenting from the state reliof October, 1685, the revocation of the Edict of Nantes. gion were by no means all the same. The heart

A prison cell is a sad scene for the bringing into life of of the body wero strict, rigid Calvinists. These were a now creature, innocent as yet of any part of all the sin for the most part bourgeois ; and such was Jacques and folly that have built and peopled prisons ! But Bartenau. Then there were ambitious, scheming nobles Madame d'Aubigné was, at least, not without such com- who saw in this stern, resolute, and disaffected body, fort as sympathy, and the companionship of one simi- an instrument which might be used with advantage larly tried, could afford her. Much about the same time, for their own purposes. Court disappointments, disand within the same dreary precincts, another birth took content, dislike of the existing order of things, reckless place at Niort. Jacques Bartenau and his wife Louise restlessness, and love of movement, drew to the were prisoners there for the same causo as the Sieur Huguenot ranks a large and loose crowd of straggling D'Aubignó and his lady. They, too, were Huguenots, and partisans, the effect of whose championship was to weaken had been condemned to conversion by the convincing and not strengthen the cause they thought fit to espouse. process of imprisonment, as expiatory victims for the It did not necessarily follow, then, from the fact of both Food of the monarch's soul.

being Huguenots, that much community of sentiment should Oh! but it takes a great deal to bring about the salva- exist between the two prisoners and their wives. And in tion of a monarch. Hear the opinion, reader, of the truth it is not often that men, so widely differing in all pious Bourdaloue on this point. The passage may be respects as did these two co-religionists, are found conducted found at the end of his first Lent sermon. It is conclusive by fate into circumstances so precisely parallel. The Sieur on the subject. “ The ordinary effect of grace," says D'Aubigné was, it seems, a violent, hot-headed, ill-conthis eloquent Jesuit, preaching before Louis XIV., ducted man, ever scrambling out of one trouble to fall “is the salvation of common Christians. The salvation into another, unfit to be trusted to find his own way of the great is its chef-d'ouvre. A king's salvation is through life, and much less to guide his wife and children a prodigy of grace; and that of the greatest of earth's on theirs. Jacques Bartenau, the Niort merchant, was a kings a miracle thercof.” It cannot be doubted that this very different sort of man. He was, at the period of his good servant of God and the king meant his words to be daughter's birth in 1635, in the very pride of middle highly complimentary to that master whom he feared the life, being then 38 years old. He was a remarkably most, and most strove to please. But it must be con- handsome man ; though few persons, perhaps, would have fessed that the sly Jesuit's climax seems to imply a deemed his features prepossessing. The cold, though singularly double-edged compliment. And truly, per- large and well-opened grey eye, expressed too much haps all things considered, many persons may be inclined self-concentration, lighted up too rarely with sympato think the above words much about as veracious as thetic contagion at another's mirth-too rarely melted any.

in tenderness for the woes of others, ay, or even for his Well! Louise Bartenau, as has been said, became

The thin and habitually closed lips prevented the mother in the prison. Iler child was also a girl ; and the otherwise beautifully formed mouth from producing same dark walls which met the first opening gaze of the pleasing impression, which it would have else not Françoise D'Aubigné, welcomed also to her earthly pil-failed to do. The well moulded and strongly pronounced grimage the other Poitevin Huguenot's daughter, Pauline chin indicated, in connexion with the other features which Bartenau.

have been noticed, too much firmness, too small a seasonMisfortune, like its powerful despot cousin, Death, is a ing of human weakness, for amiability. A high and wellgreat leveller. And the two young mothers found com- outlined Roman nose completed the severe and stern fort and consolation in the presence and companionship character of the countenance. The coal black hair, which of each other. In other circumstances there would have had begun to retreat from the large and lofty forehead, been little in common between them. The D'Aubignés was already mingled with grey. His person, both physiwere noble—the Bartenaus plebeian. Scarcely any cally and in its moral expression, corresponded well with events less cogent than those which had thus thrown the features of his face. Tall, perfectly well-formed, and them together could have brought them into companion- even commanding as was the handsome figure of the ship. Had the Bartenaus been more lowly placed in the Niortais trader, there was a rigidity about it, an unbendsocial scale than they were, sympathy and kindness being, self-sustained erectness, and an uncompromising detween the two mothers might have been less improbable ; I termination, expressed even in his measured gait, whicle


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