quoi-a subtility-a refinement-which, even the most distinguished amongst the mere visitors, did not possess. Their looks were more penetrating, their replies more prompt, their self-possession more lordly, and their prodigality in better taste. Each one of them possessed a moral ascendancy over some portion of the other visitors: they became their models and instructors in trifles at first, and soon after in matters of greater concern. Leoni was the soul of this entire body, the supreme arbiter of the fashion, pleasure, and expense of this brilliant coterie.

This species of empire was most acceptable to him, and I am not astonished at it. I had seen him reign more publicly at Brussels, and I had shared in the pride and glory of his triumph; but the cottage life had initiated me in a softer, a purer, and more heartfelt species of happiness. I regretted those sweet and peaceful days, and acknowledged as much to Leoni.

"So do I regret that delicious time," said he, in reply to me, so superior to all the idle glitter of the world; but Providence has not been pleased to change the order of the seasons for us. There is no eternal happiness, as there is no eternal spring. It is a law of nature from which we cannot free ourselves. Rest assured that everything is for the best in this wicked world. There is no more vitality in the affections than there is constancy in prosperity. We must be submissive, we must be pliant. Those flowers you gaze upon, droop, wither, and revive again every year. Like them the heart of man may be renewed when it is conscious of the principle of life; and if it has not been expanded in the sunshine even to breaking. Six months of unalloyed felicity! it was immense space, my dear Juliet; had it continued, we must either have died of a plethora of happiness, or we must have abused it. Fate commanded us to descend from our ethereal mountain tops, and to breathe the denser atmosphere of cities. Let us accept of this necessity, and believe that it is good for us; when the finer weather comes again we shall return to our mountains, we shall repossess ourselves with eagerness of all the good things which we have resigned for a time. We shall be better able to appreciate the value of our former calm seclusion and close communion of heart; and that season of love and bliss, which the winter of suffering would have chilled and blighted, will return more beautiful to our eyes than in the preceding year."

"Oh! yes," said I, as I threw my arms round his neck, JANUARY, 1840.

D

we shall return to Switzerland. How very kind of you to wish it, and promise it. But, Leoni, why cannot we live more quiet together here? We never see each other now but through the fumes of punch; we never converse but in the midst of singing and laughter. Why have we so many friends? Are we not sufficient for each other?"

66

My dear Juliet," replied he, "the angels are children, and you are both one and the other; you don't perceive that the power of love is the employment of the noblest faculties of the soul, and that we should be as careful of the faculties as of the pupil of our eye. My dear, you don't know what sort of a thing that heart of yours is. Good-natured, sensible, and confiding, you think that it is an eternal furnace of love: but the sun itself is not eternal. You don't know that the soul is as susceptible of fatigue as the body, and that it must be taken care of in the same way. Leave it all to me, Juliet ; rely upon it I shall keep alive the sacred fire in your bosom. It is my interest to husband your affections, and prevent you from squandering them too fast. All women are like you; they are in such a hurry to love, that on a sudden they cease to love altogether, without knowing why."

"This is not the doctrine you taught me in the evening on the mountain. Did you beg of me not to love you too much? Did you believe I was capable of tiring?"

66

No, my love," replied Leoni, kissing my hands," nor do I think so now; but listen to my experience. External circumstances possess an influence over our most secret sentiments, against which the most energetic minds have struggled in vain. In our valley, surrounded by a pure atmosphere, the perfumes and melodies of nature, we could and we should have been all love, all poetry, all enthusiasm; but recollect with what nicety I regulated that enthusiasm so easily lost, and which once lost, can never be recovered.

"The frequent examination of ourselves or of others, is the most dangerous of all researches. Beware of that selfish feeling which is continually urging us to pry into the hearts of those who love us, like the farmer who exhausts his land by too frequently turning it up. It is necessary to be frivolous and insensible at times,-such 'changes are only dangerous in the case of weak and lazy spirits. An ardent soul should fly to them as refuge from exhaustion-it is always rich enougha word—a look, is enough to make it bound amid its temporary forgetfulness, and to bring if back more loving, and more affectionate to the sense of i passion. Here, as you may

observe, we have need of motion and variety; these spacious palaces are fine, but they are gloomy. The marine vegetable is gnawing their foundations, and the limpid waters which reflect them, are frequently covered with vapours which fall again in tears. This splendour of ours is stern, and those traces of nobility with which you are so much pleased, are a long series of epitaphs and tombs which we must perforce garland with flowers. We must fill with living beings a gloomy abode where your very footsteps would sound fearful and hollow, if you were alone.

"I must throw money from the windows to poor people, whose nightly resting place is the balustrade of a bridge, in order that the sight of their wretchedness may not mar our enjoyment by forcing us to think. Come, come, be goodnatured-be careless. Laugh when we laugh, and sleep when we sing, Depend upon me, for arranging matters so as to make life agreeable to you, if not absolutely delightful. Be my wife, my queen at Venice, and again you shall be my angel, my sylph, amid the glaciers of Switzerland."

In this way did he appease my importunities, and drag me along insensible and confiding, to the edge of the precipice. I thanked him earnestly for the trouble he took to convince me, when with a sign he might have compelled my obedience. A tender embrace ensued, and we returned to the noisy saloon where our friends were in readiness to separate us.

Day followed day in this manner, but Leoni no longer exerted himself to make them pleasing to me. He paid less attention to the annoyance I felt, and whenever I complained of it, he argued me out of my humours with less sweetness than of yore. One day in particular, he was abrupt and bitter,—I saw that I annoyed him, and determined I would not complain again; but I began to suffer very much, and to feel myself absolutely unhappy. I waited with resignation until Leoni found time to think of me, and I must admit that when he did think of me, he was so kind, so tender, that I accused myself of folly and weakness for having suffered so much. My courage and confidence revived for some days, but those days of consolation were few and far between. Seeing me gentle and submissive, Leoni always treated me with affection, but he no longer took notice of my melancholy. I became the victim of ennui. Venice became hateful to my sight; its canals, its atmosphere, its gondolas, everything in it became offensive to my eyes. At night, when Leoni and his companions were absorbed in the pleasures of the gaming-table I wandered

alone on the terrace at the top of the house; bitter were the tears I shed as I called to mind my country-my home-the careless days of my youth,-my mother so lively, and so goodnatured-my poor father, so affectionate and so light-hearted, and even my aunt, with her attentions and her lectures: It seemed as if I had caught the maladie du pays,—that I felt an impulse to flee away, and throw myself at the feet of my parents, and to forget Leoni for ever. But when a window was thrown open on the floor beneath me, and when from that window Leoni, overcome with heat and play, stepped for. ward on the terrace to inhale the freshness of the night air, I leant over the balustrade to observe him, and my heart beat as warmly as on the first days of my passion; when the moon shone full upon him, and allowed me to distinguish the rich fancy dress he always wore at home, my bosom throbbed with pride and pleasure, as at that hour when we entered the ballroom from which we fled never to return. When his fine voice, warbling a snatch of an opera song, vibrated along the sonorous marbles of Venice, and ascended to my ears, Ï felt the tears overflow my cheek, as they were wont to do in those evenings on the mountain, when he sang me a romance composed for me in the morning.

:

Some expressions which I heard by some of his companions, increased my melancholy and my disgust to an insupportable degree. Of the twelve familiar friends of Leoni, there was one, called the Marquis de Chalon-a French emigré, whose attentions were peculiarly disagreeable. He was the oldest and the wittiest of the whole set, but beneath the exquisite refinement of his manners there lurked a species of cynicism which frequently stung me to the soul. He was sardonic, indolent, and dry he was as I afterwards learned, a man without morals and without heart; but at that time I knew nothing of this, though I disliked him quite as much as if I did. I was standing one night in the balcony hidden from observation by the silk curtains which were drawn across the window, when I heard him say to the Venetian Marquis :-" but what has become of the fair Juliet?" This way of talking of me, made the blood rush to my face-I listened with breathless attention. "I don't know," replied the Venetian carelessly. Ah, you are smitten with her somewhat," replied the other. "And Leoni?" said the Marquis. "Pooh, he'll tire of her; there is no obstacle there." "What! his wife!" "Come, come, my dear Marquis," said the Venetian," she is no more his wife than she is yours. Some girl he ran away with from

I

Brussels, and whom he will very soon run away from." heard no more, half dead with anguish, I leant across the balustrade, and, burying my face in my shawl I sobbed with anger and shame.

I hurried to my room, and sent for Leoni. I told him what I had heard, and asked him with indignation if this was the way I was to be treated by his friends. He listened to the insult, and to my remonstrance, with a coolness which wounded me to the core. "You are a little fool," said he, "you dont know what beings men are-their thoughts are indiscreet, and their words still more so; the very best of them, are but roués. A strong-minded woman should laugh at their pretensions, instead of being vexed at them."

"Oh,

I dropped into an arm-chair, and burst into tears. mother! mother!" I exclaimed, "what has your daughter come to !"

Leoni made an effort to calm me, and he succeeded but too quickly. He knelt before me, kissed my hands, conjured me to despise such nonsense, and to confide in his unalterable affection.

"Alas!" said I, "what am I to think when your friends talk of me as they would of one of your hookhas ?"

66

Juliet," replied he, "your wounded pride makes you severe and unjust. I have often confessed to you, that I was far from being immaculate in my youth; but I was purified in the atmosphere of our Swiss valley. These men have passed through no such ordeal. They can never comprehend six months like those we spent together. But can you have forgotten them, can you have misapprehended them?" I asked his forgiveness, and I tried to forget the painful impression which the incident had produced upon me. I flattered myself he would seek an explanation with his friends, and insist upon them being more respectful in future; but he was either averse to it, or he forgot it, for the very next day I read in the eyes of the Marquis de Chalon, a repetition of his former insult. I was in despair, but I could see no means of escaping from the evils in which I was plunged. I had too much pride to be at ease, and too much love to withdraw. One evening I happened to go into the saloon to fetch a book I had left upon the piano. Leoni was holding a council with his select few. They were grouped around a small table, at the further end of the room, which was so dimly lighted that they did not perceive

me.

The Venetian Marquis seemed to be in one of his most sarcastic humours, and to be giving full play to his malicious