more lovely was the scenery, than the view of man in his simple state, unadulterated by intercourse with the world, and a stranger to its vices and contentions; his life is like the stream which flows through the meadows, uninterrupted in its course by rocks and shallows, and gliding smoothly on to that great ocean, on which eternity has fixed its throne.

The party returned to the boat-the sun went down 'midst stormy clouds-wild over the lake flew the blast, the forerunner of the storm-in humid turbulence, the clouds came rolling on, and on the summit of the mountains was already settled the awful spirit of the tempest. The party, over whom death in joyful anticipation flapped its wings in terror, were in the middle of the lake, when the storm, with all its fury burst upon them. The boatmen looked to heaven for help, and on the anxious bosom of Frederic lay his terrified spouse. A sudden squall swept over the lake,-the skill of the sailors was in vain, the boat was oversetFrederic seized his child, and buffeting the waves sought its mother he heard her agonized shrieks now faint, now loud; in the glare of the lightning, he saw her arms outstretched towards him the darkness of the storm succeeded the angel of death was on the waves-she sunk to rise no more.

Weary and exhausted Frederic gained the shore, bearing his precious charge, and hope

still glimmered in his bosom, that one of the boatmen might have saved his wife. He called aloud, but no answer was returned-nought was heard, but the roar of the storm, and the tumult of the waves.

Overcome with grief and despair, Frederic returned to the Castle; from a scene of domestic comfort it was now changed to a house of mourning. The old Count felt himself twice a widower, and Frederic, for a length of time, mourned the loss of his wife with the most unfeigned regret.

In the deep solitude of Niolo, the chief solace and enjoyment of the two widowers was the society of the young Adeline. A few books tended also to enliven the monotony of their lives, and to the monks of the monastery of Arienheim, they were often indebted for the perusal of some wild and improbable manuscript romances, which they pretended to have found amongst the loose papers and archives of the monastery. Indeed, the wily priests, whenever their hogsheads began to sound hollow, employed the hours which were not dedicated to their religious duties, or to licentiousness and debauchery, in the composition of tales of murder, and seduction of female innocence, and in which the cowled tribe were always represented as the brightest patterns of moral excellence, and unremitting virtue. Whenever a good action was to be performed, it was invariably in the person of a priest, or monk, and they who were doomed to

suffer all the calamities of life were those, who refused to support the priesthood, or who dared to hint that there was something rather farcical not to call it impious, in their doctrine of absolution.

Nor did they forget to season their romances with lewd and indecent sentiments, the prevailing foible of the times, and having patched up a disgusting farrago, they hastened with it to Niolo, where, from the credulous Count, they knew they shonld receive the full price of their labor. There they described their own productions as works of extraordinary merit-offered their congratulations to the Count on his being so fortunate as to possess them, and lastly, extolled their own assiduity and perseverance in the search for them. The Count being rather under the influence of monkish sway, attached implicit belief to all the assertions of the monks-bestowed on them his most hearty thanks for their great exertion and attention to promote his amusement, and concluded by issuing his orders, that a hogshead of his best wine should be immediately conveyed to the monastery. The monks in return, left him their benedictions, a commodity of no mean value in the eyes of certain people, and then returned to their cells, to carouse over their glasses; and laugh at the credulity of the Count.

CHAPTER II.

"One in ten, quoth a', and we might have a good woman born every blazing star, or at an 'earthquake, 'twould mend the Well! a man may pluck his heart out, ere he draw

lottery. one."

THE solitary mode of life which the inmates of the Castle pursued, wonld have ben attended with great disadvantage to the mind of the young Adeline, had not particular circumstances conspired to remedy the defect.

At a short distance from the Castle, in an opposite direction to the monastery of Arienheim, stood the convent of my Lady of St. Roch. Its patroness of holy memory, was the chaste and pious Ursula, although some sceptical legends, in the full spirit of heresy, pretend to say, that she had no claim whatever to the former epithet, having been secretly the mother of a few little chubby Ursulines, who, report goes on to state, in after years carefully followed the example of their mother. The endowments of the convent were, however, large and liberal, and the beautiful and romantic country in which it was situated, rendered it a favorite abode with the sufferers in life; even the victims to family

pride soon forgot their companions, and the beloved scenes which they were constrained to quit. The abbess was a woman, who, though far advanced in years, shewed not the moroseness, nor the asperity of age. She was a mother to

those who were confided to her care, and she knew well how to make the necessary allowance for the thoughtlessness of youth. She had been accustomed to treat the human mind, the wounded, and the sane one, and although the tear of grief was often shed, when the convent gates were first closed on the lovely sufferer, or the unoffending victim, yet, by the maternal and affectionate treatment of the abbess, the eye was soon again brightened with joy, and the bosom a stranger to a sigh.

Frederic being aware of the disadvantages which his isolated situation caused in regard to the education of his daughter, applied to the abbess of St. Roch, to select a female endowed with abilities, requisite for the important task of education. In a certain island, a woman of that description would have very soon presented herself, that is, many would have offered themselves for the situation, considering themselves fully adequate to the performance of the duties of it, if they knew filigree, embroidery, satin stitch, and double stitch-that Goldsmith wrote the Citizen, and Swift, the Tale of a Tub-that two negatives make an affirmative-and two singulars a plural. With a less stock of knowledge than VOL. 1. No. 1.

C