"that you yourself deserve all the happiness you have missed, and if that will console you, that your own heart is not unworthy of Bertha's. Were the thing not absolutely impossible, and willed by fate so to be, I could even wish you success; nor, I am free to say, is there anything in your birth, still less with your mind, and the prospects you have before you, in your worldly situation, which would prevent my doing But fate, as I have said, has so willed it, and must be obeyed. The thing, were you an emperor, is quite out of question."

so.

I felt all the kindness and condescension of this speech, and only longed to kiss the fair hand which touched my arm in the eagerness with which she supported it by action. I felt it, however, as a complete death-warrant, and so I told her, adding my entreaty that all the mystery which seemed, particularly of late, to hang about the subject might be cleared up.

"It would," I said, "go farther than anything else to settle my mind forever. As it is," I added, "the uncertainty, the mystery, are far more insupportable than the unequivocal assurance of her hand and heart being betrothed."

Lady Hungerford, smiling at the energy with which I said this, observed, that she thought Rousseau himself could not have expressed his feelings more warmly. Better, however, to forget, instead of nursing them, which it was too plain I was doing.

"Your ladyship need not fear for me," replied I, "provided only that the fact is, as I have gathered it from all quarters that the execution is ordered, and that there are no hopes of a reprieve."

At this she looked hesitatingly, and at length observed,

"I do not mean to say, that what you have supposed, and seem so to wish, is the absolute fact; nor am I at liberty to say a word more; but if it were (whether this is, or is not, bravado), let me ask, what really would become of your affection ?"

Madam," answered I, "I would hug it to my heart, and carry it with me to the grave."

The amiable woman was moved with this in a manner as remarkable as unexpected. Her cheek flushed, tears glist ened in her eyes, and this queen of fashion, this observed o

the drawing-room, and ornament of the presence, became an absolute daughter of nature in her simplest and most amiable form. How wrong are upstart railers to suppose that either men or women are necessarily hardened because their lot is cast among the great.

*

Finding that the agitation produced did not subside, she said, with a smile which almost contradicted her words,

"You must go, for 'tis in vain to counsel, and almost to blame you. These conversations do me no good, and must not be renewed. Go; and God bless you."

With that she gave me her hand, which with all her kindness she had never done before, and I left her in a tumult of curiosity as well as of anxiety; for, while I considered this. conversation more than ever decisive of my fate, there was a mystery about it, which I would have given more than I was worth to unravel.

That day there was another great dinner at Lord Castleton's, very different from the last I described, as having been so honoured by the attendance of the illustrious Paragraph. In my then frame of mind, perhaps this was the best thing that could have happened, to divert it from the consuming thoughts which my interview with Lady Hungerford had generated. But my thoughts, not at all prepared to wander into the world, were centered more than ever in the comparatively little spot which contained all that, in my mind at least, that world could boast of, that was worth pursuing.

I would, therefore, far more readily have shut myself up with Granville, who called upon me an hour before dinner, to whom I related all that had passed with Lady Hungerford, and whom I in vain sounded, and at last entreated, as one in confidence of the family, to supply what Lady Hungerford thought it her duty to refuse me.

"I have long," said I, "thought there was some mystery

*This reflection, just in itself, is supported by a trait in a very great person, so pleasing, that I cannot help transcribing it. When the Dauphin of France was attaked by the small-pox, in 1752, his wife passed days and nights by his bed-side. Poupe, a blunt physician, called in, and being a stranger to the court, did not know her, and thought she was a hired nurse. "Parbleu," said he, "voila la meilleure garde que j'ai vue. Comment vous applle-t-on, ma bonne ?"-Mems. de la Housset

Catalogues are made of the crimes of royal persons; why not of their virtues ?

hanging over this too fascinating being-fascinating, you know, to others as well as to me, but whose addresses she refused. At her age, and with her great part in the world, if she choose to play it, to remain shut up within so small, though seemingly so magic a circle as Foljambe, from which, as if spell-bound, she does not issue, never coming to London, or approaching the court, which she seems formed to adorn as well as a rural shrine; her father, though old, not being any obstacle to this from want of health or even inclination—all this surely must appear as marvellous to you as to me, unless you have a key to it."

"You forget," said he (endeavouring, as I thought, to parry my question), the domestic calamity they suffered, not so long ago as for its effect to have subsided. With all his faults, Mr. Hastings loved his son, and she her brother, so much so, that although not in the same degree, we might almost compare her feelings to those of the lady Olivia in Twelfth Night, who also lost a brother,

For whose dear love,

They say she hath abjured the sight
And company of men."'

"Were this only the first year of that sad catastrophe,' " I replied, "the reason might suffice; but even Olivia, it should appear, did not remain a recluse three years, nor even in her retirement abjure the sight, at least, of the proper man. In short her grief was not confined to the loss of a brother. Here, therefore, there not only may be, but from Lady Hungerford's plain admission, there is a proper man. For the love of heaven, therefore," said I, "as well as for the effect-ual cure it will prove to myself, tell me if it is so. Once convinced that her affections are engaged, though to whom, in the recesses where she has so long been buried, it would puzzle a magician to discover, I shall far sooner recover my senses, than under the impression that her heart is still virgin."

Granville smiled, but I never liked him so little as in his reply. For, far from endeavouring to calm the agitation in which he saw me, he coolly observed, that if Lady Hungerford had plainly admitted it, I wanted no further proof. "You are unkind, Granville," said I.

"We shall be too late for Lord Castleton's," replied he, and left me to dress.

It was plain to me that he knew more than he chose to reveal, and at the moment I hated him for it.

but

AFTER all, there is an elasticity of mind attendant upon a young gentlman of three-and-twenty, who has little upon his conscience, who has experienced no great misfortune, who, on the contrary, views the world in all the prodigality of hope, for which kings and emperors might wisely exchange. their diadems. Heaven be thanked, this is not confined to any particular condition of life, but is equally enjoyed by the prince and peasant; for it is the gift of the Author of nature to all his creatures who know how to use it. Happy are they with whom it lasts longer than the age I have mentioned.

From some of the guests I met at Lord Castleton's on the day I am now commemorating, if ever they had posssessed it; it had long fled with their years, and, unfortunately, had not been replaced by any other blessings, such as I had met with in Manners.

The agitation I had undergone was at least not new: it had often risen and subsided, and I was not so absorbed by it, as not to make one or two of these characters my particular

study. They were living proofs that neither rank nor wealth, and certainly not abilities, cau command our being's end and aim,"―happiness.

This being a speculation I was always fond of, by degrees the absorption of my mind yielded before it; and, though the thought of company, when I wished to be a hermit, had at first revolted me, the company in which I found myself, at length diverted and engaged much of my attention. There was indeed no illustrious Paragraph to amuse by his empty effrontery; but there was that happy mixture of the distinguished of the land for high rank and good-breeding with those celebrated for talent and good humour, in which my patron, "in his happier hour," used frequently to indulge his fine mind.

Two persons in particular, from what I had often heard of their history, though I had never seen them before, struck me as subjects for a philosopher of the world, which, as the pupil of Fothergill and Manners, notwithstanding my insignificance, I pretended (to myself, at least) to be. These were Lord Felix,-worthless in himself, but a minion of fortune; and the Marquess of Rochfort, valuable in himself,-but the victim of self-will.

Lord Felix seemed to have been born and to have lived one of those indices marked out by Providence, to shew how utterly inadequate are the gifts of fortune, unaccompanied by the true knowledge of their usefulness, to produce happiness in one's self, or esteem in others. He was profuse without being generous; luxurious without comfort; proud without self-respect. He had no capacity, and if ambitious, it was therefore in little things. His wealth might have given him influence in the state, or secured him the blessings of a thousand followers; but he preferred frittering it away upon gilt plate, gilt coaches, trappings of horses, and laced liveries. If his dinners were the theme of praise for the exquisiteness of their cookery, their unseasonable delicacies, and the raciness of his wines, bis elation was at its highest; but he shewed little choice in the selection of his guests, and his carnal feasts were any thing but those of reasou.

The consequence was, that Lord Felix was generally surrounded by parasites, who paid him with open flattery and secret contempt. His house was a magazine of costly an