tuitously among the students, and was at length successful. Some laughed at the scheme, as such people are apt to do at what passes their comprehension; others thought it would have been better for Adrian to have followed the honest calling of his forefathers, while a few read on the high brow and flashing eyes of the young scholar something of the glory which he went forth to struggle for and to win; but Esmeralda only wept. There is much real kindness among the poor, whatever may be said to the contrary; and when it became generally known that Adrian was going away to be a great man, as they simply but prophetically expressed it, many a trifling but most acceptable offering aided his father in the arduous task of his equipment, which, plain and frugal as it was, left him nothing but his blessing to bestow. But what do the young, the aspiring, want more? Every obstacle is a fresh incentive to exertion-a fresh triumph when overcome; and they are proud with their own hands to hew out a road, and carve for themselves an everlasting niche in the temple of fame! Esmeralda was worthy of the young scholar; to the last she spoke not of herself, of her loneliness when he should have gone from her, but rather of the joy it would be to her and his father to hear of his success; the deep self-sacrificing love of the woman, mingled with the passionate fondness of the child, and made her careful to be rather the guiding star than the meteor which might tempt him aside from the bright destiny he had chosen, and they parted at length in hope. The university of Louvain established by John Duke of Brabant, and containing among its professors some of the most learned, and among its pupils the rising geniuses of the age, was a hallowed object in the eyes of the young student; and the deep feeling of reverence with which he stood for the first time before its massive walls, often made him smile to think on in later days. History proceeds to inform us how for a few successive years he toiled on in the pursuit of knowledge, but the phrase is surely incorrect; if it was a toil, let us at least call it a labour of love! What if his cheek paled, and his form withered; if his flashing eyes grew dim, and ached so that at times he was fain to close them for very weariness, had he not got his wish? Was not the burning thirst of his aspiring spirit slaking itself at the living waters of universal knowledge? Was he not holding daily and hourly commune with all that makes the past great and holy, and laying up for himself a treasure of wisdom which life only could exhaust? The more aristocratic but less talented pupils of the university had long envied the growing fame of the young student, and sought eagerly to lower him in the estimation in which he was so justly held by the professors; but for some time without success, poverty and an intense love of study compelling Adrian to a life of strict frugality and privation. At length, however, it was discovered that he invariably stole away from the university as soon as it became dusk, and did not return until long past midnight, always taking one direction, and declining on various pretences the company of any of his fellowstudents. Depend upon it those quiet ones are always the worst," said Jans Durland. "Who knows but what he may belong to some of those midnight bands of whom the good people of Louvain tell such fearful tales ?" "Nay, his very poverty is his surety on that score," replied his companion, laughingly. "Pshaw! a mere blind; what then can account for his regularly absenting himself at such an hour?" "Why, grave and studious as Adrian is, he may not be insensible to the witchery of some bright-eyed damoiselle, and there are plenty such at Louvain. Take my word for it, Jans, that wherever there is a mystery of this sort, a woman is always sure to be at the bottom of it." "Well, I trust it may be no worse. Suppose we were to follow hiin to-night, and ascertain the truth at once,-at least it would be something to taunt him with." "But scarcely honourable, methinks," replied his companion, hesitatingly. "Nay, every thing is fair in love they say, and why not in hate?" muttered Jans Durland, gnashing his teeth with rage. "Well, be it so then, but not to-night; there is a debate to be held at the Town-hall, which I must join; to-morrow I am at your service; and in the mean time, Jans, you may as well accompany me." "With all my heart," replied the student, carelessly; "but I shall afterwards take care that Adrian does not again escape me." The debate was most eloquent, although the subject of it matters little to our history; so we shall merely state that it terminated shortly before midnight; and the people after lingering to exchange greetings or a cordial good-night, separated to their various homes. The students of Louvain continued to talk loud and eagerly as they walked four abreast through the silent streets, occasionally breaking off in the midst of a brilliant argument to shout and yell under the windows of some unfortunate citizen who had contrived to render himself obnoxious to them; or raise a rude chorus in honour of some chosen beauty whose dwelling lay in their road home, until they reached the church of St. Peter, one of the finest religious edifices in Belgium. It was a bright starlight night, and the streets were white and hard with the frozen snow, and still and silent as the grave, except the hollow whistling of the wind as it moaned and sang through the porticoes of the old church. The students involuntarily hushed their voices, and passed onward with a more subdued step, although none could have told why it was so. "Stay!" exclaimed Jans Durland, hastily, " either my eyes strangely deceive me, or there is a human figure standing motionless beneath yonder lamp. No! by heaven I am right!" "Let us go," whispered one of his companions, shuddering with fear; "they say that evil spirits are abroad at this hour." "Fool!" exclaimed the reckless student, shaking off his feeble grasp, and advancing towards the object of his curiosity, followed by his companions. A lamp burned dimly in the church-porch, by the feeble light of which a tall figure might be observed bending eagerly over a book. The face which was thus partly illuminated, was pale, but earnest, and full of a strange beauty. "It is Adrian!" exclaimed the students, with one voice, while a crimson flush passed over the high brow of him they had thus suddenly surprised as he turned proudly towards them. "The mystery is at length solved," said he, while his flashing eyes sought those of Jans Durland. "I was poor, too poor to purchase candles, and for months have pursued my studies here, or at the corners of streets, wherever there was a lamp by which I could see to read." "But the cold," interrupted one of his companions; "how did you bear that? You must have been perished?" Adrian laughed wildly as he laid his burning hand on that of Jans, who had pressed nearer to him while he spoke. "Does this feel like cold?" he asked. "No! there is that within me which defies it, as well as all your sneers and mockery!" But none dared to mock him. The penitent Jans Durland clasped that scorching hand in both of his, and drew him gently on, while the rest followed wonderingly. From that hour Adrian and he studied together, and were like brothers; while a small sum of money, received a few weeks afterwards from an unknown hand, rendered him, in a measure, independent of his generous friend. During all this time his intercourse with his father had been very slight, and he contented himself with hearing occasionally that he and Esmeralda continued well. The kind protector of the latter, the ironworker of Guelderland above mentioned, was the usual means of communication, his business compelling him to come to Louvain once or twice in the year, on which occasions he always brought some sweet message, or token from Esmeralda to the student. But now, as the time drew near for this periodical visit, Adrian was observed to grow restless and melancholy, and he talked a great deal to Jans of going to Utrecht in the spring, as if trying to persuade himself of the folly of some foreboding feeling of evil which pressed heavily on his heart. At length the old man made his usual appearance before the gates of the university, to ask for Adrian, the son of the barge-builder of Utrecht. The student flung down his book, and went out eagerly to meet him; but one glance at the pale and agitated countenance of the iron-worker was sufficient to confirm his worst fears. "Esmeralda is dead!" said he, with great calmness. "You have heard of it then?" 66 "Yes, I knew it !-but how-when did it come to pass? Tell me all!" Well, one day the poor child left home without saying a word to any one, and it grew late before she returned. It was a wild tempestuous night, and as I took off her wet cloak, and wrung the moisture from her long hair, I saw that the ornaments with which, in remembrance of her unknown home, she so delighted to deck it, were gone. At length, in answer to my repeated inquiries, she confessed that she had sold the coins to a Dutch trader. God knows what she could have wanted with money!" "Did she tell you how much she got for them?" asked Adrian, eagerly, and with white lips. The iron-worker named a sum which at once confirmed all the wild doubts of the young student. "Go on," said he, in a hoarse voice. 66 Well, from that hour she sickened and withered away;-cheerful and hopeful to the last, she never seemed to think that she should die; but when the blow fell, at length bowed her gentle spirit meekly to the will of Heaven, and murmured not at its decrees." "But she spoke of me, father, did she not?" "Continually; your name was the last upon her trembling lips, which grew cold in blessing thee!" The old man wept bitterly, but Adrian could not shed a tear. "You think, then," said the student, after a pause of deep emotion, "that she caught her death on that tempestuous night when she went to sell her little treasure to the Dutch trader?" "I am sure of it; you may remember she was always a delicate flower." Adrian said no more, but from that hour a change came over his whole life. The remainder of this eventful history may be gathered from the annals of his native land. How by his own gigantic talents he raised himself to the high post of Vice-Chancellor in that university which he had originally entered a friendless and obscure wanderer; was chosen by the Emperor Maximilian, as preceptor to his grandson, afterwards the celebrated Charles V.; presented by Ferdinand of Spain with the bishopric of Tortosa; and after his death, elected co-regent with Cardinal Ximenes; finally, in 1522, on the decease of Leo X. ascending the papal throne. We are told that in afterlife he become singularly rigid and austere in his habits, perhaps in consequence of the struggles and privations of early years; was much given to solitary musings, and seldom seen to smile. Who shall say how often that mighty spirit, in the very triumph of its self-created greatness, looked lingeringly to his humble home at Utrecht-danced once again in his dreams on the banks of the Rhine, or listened to the silvery accents of a voice which never ceased to haunt him. The only extravagance which we hear of Pope Adrian's indulging himself in was a passionate love of old coins, which he spared no expense in collecting, although his successor seems to have attached little value to them. Some brass ones in particular, of simple appearance, and wanting even the charm of antiquity, were said to have been discovered upon his person when he died, and on being submitted to antiquarian research, found to be of very modern date. In the life of Adrian VI. we have a brilliant example of the triumphs that can be effected by the irresistible might of man's own mind and intellect in despite of the accidents of birth and fortune; and a beautiful and touching illustration of the vainness of all this to make us happy. The son of the barge-builder of Utrecht laughed and danced by the river. The poor Student of Louvain, as he studied at the corners of streets, or in the church-porch at midnight, was contented and even joyous; but Pope Adrian never smiled! Wordsworth has condensed every thing we would say on this subject into two simple and exquisite lines, to which it would be superfluous to add a single word : Oh! 'tis the heart that magnifies this life, Making a truth and beauty of its own! The house where he lived at Utrecht is still shown to the traveller under the name of the Pope's House, but is now reduced to the state of a common inn. A FEW heavy showers had fallen during the night of my visit to Rushley. I had heard the rain pattering against my window as I lay in that happy dreamy state between sleeping and waking. I fell into a sound doze as I was speculating with myself what effect the discoloration of the water, the increased rapidity and fulness of the river Clear would have upon my fishing. Whether the argument as to which was the better, a clear, bright water, or one slightly stained, was carried on by me in my sleep, I know not; but when I awoke, as I invariably do at five in the morning, it was the first thing I thought of. "Practice," said I, "is better than theory; so here goes to try." I sprung out of bed, threw open my casement window, and took a survey, first of the sky, which was obscured by light fleecy vapours, and then of the earth, which, as far as I could judge, was still thirsting for more moisture, as the fallows looked as dry as they had done on the previous day, and the water-meadows, which had not long been mown, seemed to be parched and arid. I could just catch a glimpse of the Clear as it wound round the orchard, but could not see enough of it to judge of the state of its stream. I dressed myself, and donned my worsteds and India-rubber bootsnot your mackintosh overalls, which hang dabby and flabby about your legs-but a pair of Cording's sheet-caoutchouc solid boots, with good thick soles to them, well studded with nails, which defy all external injuries from the wet and the rough stones, which are generally found at the bottom of trout-streams, and against which if you happen to kick with a thin boot on, you will lame yourself, and perhaps be unable to walk for a month. Just as I had completed my toilet, I heard a voice seemingly under my window, chanting the well-known fair song "dumble-downdeary," and then hissing very furiously, as if condemning its own execution of the humble ditty. I looked out, and saw my man, Boots, rubbing away at "the pheayton" as if he was grooming a nag. "Hilloh! Boots!" cried I. "Hulloh--what's up?" replied the sibillator, not knowing who spoke to him. "I am up," said I; "how's the water this morning?" |