that passed to the Creator from all the grand and wonderful of his creation, and heard in the thunder-storm the voice of his power, and saw the light of his presence. And there were kindly sympathies and gentle affections, that clung freshly and beautifully around every object, that seemed like kindred love in the isolated life of Kriesler. And most devotedly did it cling to his desolate home, and to the one gentle being who shared the dying prayers and blessing of their mother-Annette, whose life was blended with her brother's, till every thought, and wish, and purpose, seemed incomplete, till he was the sharer. Sweet Annette ! — there was somewhat of melancholy mingled with her playful smile, a light shade cast through life from the gloom that gathered round the death-bed of her mother, and darkened the hours of her early childhood with the loneliness of an orphan.

-

The storm of persecution, that gathering in France and Italy, spread wide over Europe, and darkened the history of the thirteenth century with a stain which the tide of time can never wash away, overwhelmed many a noble house, for no other crime than refusing to join the blood-hounds that were hunting down the proscribed order of the Templars. Nor would even now the hatred of the powerful accusers leave the Castle D and its inmates in peace, had its first destroying course left aught to excite either their tears or their avarice. But the lonely widow who returned to that castle with her children, to die, and leave them no protection nor patrimony, save the shades of their ruined and desolate home, and those children, whose whole world of intercourse was their ancient nurse and the grayhaired porter, were too utterly harmless for even their unprovoked malice.

Yet those old people would sit for hours and draw pictures of the future prosperity of their young master and lady; when their broad domains would be restored, and the old hall be filled with crowds such as long ago gathered round its hospitable hearth; pictures colored by their own affectionate and simple hearts, that believed not injustice could have power over those whose infancy they had watched, and whose ancestral roof had protected their own infancy; whose only wish for themselves was to live and die beneath it. They spoke of the day when he would go forth, the legal representative of his house, to claim his rights; when a hundred knightly swords would be drawn, and a hundred baronial banners unfurled in his cause; and the red cross of the Templars, for whose sake he suf fered, would gleam from its snowy standard, and the black and white banner float with their allies over the gallant and united band. Then, in imagination, they saw the steel harness and gorgeous pennons glitter in the sunshine, and heard the hauberk rattle to the armor of the war-horse, as his rider sprang to the saddle. And Annette was the star of every feast, and princely gathering, and queen of every tournay. Thus they talked, till they were happy in the world of their own creation; yet years and years were passing away, while the phantom of their hopes ever receded in the future, and each one brought surer forgetfulness for the orphan children.

The hour of retribution was not to be. The rapacity that wrested, acknowledged no obligation to restore. And though Kriesler talked

to his sister of the future, and tinged it with the glow of a believing fancy, when the something would have been done to restore their place and friends and the world of enjoyment they dreamed of, yet that something was a shadow to which he vainly sought to give a form. His fathers had bled on the hills and plains of Palestine, and the battle-axe and banner in his hall had glanced proudly and fearfully through the ranks of many foes, and even that young heart sprang to the excitement of danger; but alone and powerless, even his vassals dependant on another master, what could he accomplish? Then a hope, born in the mystic tendencies of his spirit, and nurtured by its surpassing enthusiasm, saw in the depths of nature's mysteries the source and secret of a power, where mind might rule mind; and he turned to the lore of other days, where he saw once more the phantom of a bright future, for the glory of his father's house and for Annette.

Annette grew to girlhood, a lonely yet not unhappy being; for to her the future wore no darkness, and the past no regret. A habit of humble and daily trust for daily support, and a temperament that suffered not the heart to be troubled by that future which might never arrive, gave an evenness to her disposition, and serenity and quiet joy, that seemed like sweet sunshine over her unclouded brow. Kriesler looked on his sister, and felt strong with a superhuman strength to do all things for her; and then, in the consciousness of his utter inability, he would seek the solitude of his own apartment, and let the torrent of his emotions pass. And yet, he asked himself, 'What is it?-what is any earthly event, that the mighty mind should bow before it? Petty contingencies, that weigh down the balance of more worthy things; the sleeping giant chained by pigmies! Eternal in duration, independent in existence, sufficient to itself, what has the mind to do with extrinsic circumstances, and why is it not free and powerful, whether the body, created only for its use, pines in deprivation, or writhes in pain, or rejoices in strength? Chained in a prison, and subject to laws that govern the material atoms around it; perceiving things but by their visible species, yet conscious of an innate power of knowing their very nature; conscious that in its birth-right, and as portion of the divine essence, it could see in its own light, and penetrate by its own subtilety the mysteries of things it now beholds only by the senses. Then he applied more deeply to his studies, and dreamed of a potency in wisdom; for his philosophizing mind caught that shadow in early years, and its redundant and untutored fertility ran wild in its undirected course; as the strong and luxuriant vines of the Indies twine round the Upas that poisons their roots.

The same disposition that directed him to find in wisdom the secret of an undefined power, led him on in its paths by a fascination that often left behind the first object of his pursuit; and he passed days and nights in that western tower, poring over the secrets of the unseen; for scarcely could sleep be called a cessation of that intellectual current in which his thoughts seemed flowing onward, with ever-increasing rapidity, to their ocean of boundless knowledge; and even then, there were gleams that afterward he treasured as revealings of a higher existence. Mental philosophy pretends to explain the

phenomena of the wild yet partial action of the mind in sleep; but to a soul fed from childhood with philosophical mysticism, it were not strange if waking hours were tinged with some colors reflected from the mirror of dreams. To such, they were messengers from the world of spirits; and soul held communion with soul, and the free intelligence revelled in a wider field, when the senses were locked in slumber, and its visions were all scenes from some part of the wide creation.

The character of Kriesler was, as has been said, strongly devotional; and it was the mystic devotion that lives amid beings of a more ethereal existence, and whose daily companions are spirits of the invisible world. He heard their voices in the moanings of the forest, and saw their shadows in the changing forms of the mountain mist; and his heart swelled, as he seemed exalted to their nature and communion. And he said: 'Oh that I could know as they know, and traverse the earth, and stars, and read their mysteries! Oh that I could learn! I seem in a prison, and suffocate without light, or air, or knowledge. Surely he thought thus, the sage, who looked on all the beautiful stars till he was bewildered, and at last threw himself into the sea where he saw them reflected, to know in the world of spirits what he could not learn in this.' Such were the thoughts that passed through the mind of the student, as he sat in the red light of that autumn sunset, and his soul bowed to the torrent of its reigning passion- 'desire to know.' A passion not less imperious, nor less unquiet than any the world excites, perhaps more absorbing that it is nurtured in seclusion, and more intense, that it has no visible expression, like deep waters wearing away foundations, and fires consuming the mine that suffers them not to burn outward, and scatter and lose their heat in the free atmosphere of the world.

Kriesler felt that his heaven should be where he might look through all the grand creation, and hear the music of its million spheres, as they sweep their orbits; where his spirit's burning thirst would be satisfied, or it would almost be no heaven for him. And then he knelt and offered his life for sacrifice, and his soul for torture, through all time, if at last he might be as those who pass through the boundless universe, with powers to comprehend its wonders. It was a wild and unholy prayer; for it arraigned the Being who thus wrapped his works in mystery, and prisoned the aspiring soul; who gave it capacities at once too great and too small for earth, that it might find its home and treasure in another state of existence. And yet, is it strange that, looking on the glorious and perfect creation, man should scorn the littleness of his human nature, and sigh for the freedom of the thinking, feeling, wondering soul, to mingle with the beautiful and holy things whose love, even here, exalts and purifies, and sheds over the heart the serenity and quiet joy of nature itself? No changes chill that love; no disappointment, no delusion, no awakening to forgetfulness or to sorrow; and ever it leads upward from the perfect to the source of perfection, from the beautiful to the element of beauty, from the excellent to the pure idea of all that we call good and lovely; from the waters to the fountain of knowledge, which is Truth, increated, without error, without imperfection, which

is a sort of error; distinct from the universe, for this has no independent existence, distinct from every highest and holiest created spirit; even the supreme and incomprehensible Intelligence, which alone is perfection, because alone uniting all the powers of all the properties of perfection. Yet the wing is weak though daring, and a shadow from earthly things may darken the light of the soul's contemplation.

The rich light of a stained gothic window spread a mosaic enamelling over the pavements of a silent oratory, as, with quick and noiseless tread, Annette approached and knelt before the altar, and the coloring faded in darkness, and her light figure seemed a very shadow in the gloom, before she rose to depart. There had been a weight of unwonted gloom on her pure heart, and a mingling of undefined fears in the earnestness of her prayer, which scarcely could the habitual trust of her meek and holy spirit subdue. The day had passed slowly and sadly, for the chase, which was Kriesler's occasional and necessary occupation, had detained him from the castle, and the sort of outlawry proclaimed against him, conjured up a thousand evil phantoms, which only his presence could dissipate. Yet now glad voices reached her, and words of welcome, and she hastened to meet him.

'You were gone long to-day, brother,' said Annette, as she removed the dust from his hunting garb.

'Yes, yon beast ran well, and led us a wild race, far beyond the narrow bounds the churls have set to our domains; and when at bay, he was so ready at all points, so brave and desperate, by my sword! I was almost grieved to kill him, though he did give me a scratch with his brown antler,' and he shook off a few drops of blood from his wrist, where the horn had grazed.

'Ay, and an ill wound it is, sometimes,' said Pierre, approaching with a sort of prescriptive right of interest, in an old and tried servant. I remember the son of the Baron de Courci, in my respected old master's time, came to his death by the thrust of an antler, and there was the young Count Neuilly who, in chase, one day

'In the name of patience, Pierre, let us have no more histories; you are an evil comforter, by my soul! Good mother Alice, give us supper as soon as may be, for this day's work has given me an appetite.'

Supper was prepared, but not before Annette had bound up the wounded arm, according to her best knowledge, and Alice's prescriptions, for not a small part of the accomplishments of a lady of that day, was skill in surgery; and while her fair hands did works of mercy, her heart was as gentle and feeling as when custom or false sensibility removed her from scenes requiring them.

Annette's gaze had been anxious, and her cheek a little flushed, while Pierre was speaking; but she soon laughed away fears that she trembled to think of, and the supper hour passed cheerfully as was wont. Kriesler described the day's chase; how the stag was started from his covert, and followed, by rock and ravine, through many a perilous way; how he plunged in the thicket and reappeared far in the vale below, and sprang along the mountain side, where from the base appeared hardly footing for the mountain-goat; every where

followed by the practised hunter; and how, when he turned for the last desperate effort, the wary dogs were held at bay, till at last the victory was decided, and the animal dragged homeward through bush and brake; and all the details were listened to, with warm interest, by the secluded family. And thus the evening passed gaily and swiftly.

The hour of retiring came, and Kriesler sought his apartment, but not for rest. Visions, driven away by the excitement of the chase, by the bright sunshine and green fields, returned; or rather, they were phantoms that ever dwelt among the mystic associations of his study. And if, in the day-time's toil and venture, his heart seemed ready to own that such daring was its stirring life; that to breathe the fresh, pure air, and look on the glowing skies, and fair, broad earth, were enough of heaven's blessings; yet, when he returned to his solitude, the very recollection of that congeniality with the beautiful universe, taught him how blessed are they whose sympathies find kindred spirits, how his heart would leap forth in the glorious sunlight of kindred love, as the ocean when the morning sun bursts over its bosom. The thought of the world from which they were shut out, and of Annette, his gentle sister, whose voice was ever sweet music, and whose brow was ever placid Annette, who had no anxiety for that future in which her brother vainly sought to see and brighten the picture of her fate. Were he alone, he might go abroad, and with his own arm retrieve his fortunes, and find honor in life and death; but not for worlds would he leave her, that prisoned bird, whose heart was twined with his in infancy, and year by year clung more closely and fondly in the holy strength of a sister's love. Yet would that coming years might divide their weal and wo; would that he could suffer alone; and in the deep passion of his soul, he believed it might be, for he felt a blight stealing over his own existence, and he would not think that it was all in vain.

The lamp was expiring, and the gray morning began to color the east, before Kriesler threw himself on his couch. The fatigues of the previous day, the strong mental excitement produced by the succeeding thoughts, affected his nervous temperament to the last degree of excessive action, preventing all drowsiness, until, completely exhausted, he sunk into a heavy but troubled slumber. He was wandering with Annette along shady walks, and gathering flowers, as in early childhood; and the trees, and sunshine, all wore that strange and passing enchantment, that they wear to the young gazer, which is one of the soul's and nature's mysteries; and thought of in after years, the heart can only describe it to itself, as the passing of a veil which covered them; some rosy and charmed medium, through which they were seen once, but seen no more. For in those holy and blessed years, there is a fountain deep in the soul's wilderness of flowers, and manna is strewn around its sweet waters; and while the heart is pure and happy, it drinks and eats that food of angels; but when it passes on, and the world's rough contact has brushed the down from its dove-like wings, and storms of sorrow have shadowed the earth beneath its gaze; then is the fountain dried, and the manna ceases, and its portion ever after is with the unmingled realities of life. It may go forth, and find glory and power; yet, looking back