us should be observed; that they should be succeeded to, as it were, gradually; and that at least, when the remembrance of them is most striking, our eyes should meet with some trace of their former residence among us. I know not whether my father experienced similar feelings to mine at the time; but he also turned his eyes aside, and resumed his accustomed seat. 66 My son," said he," let that place remain empty til such time as your wife will occupy it; I will then resign mine to you also; my fortune will then become yours; not that you shall inherit of a father, but share with a friend. Before I die I shall see you act the part of head of our family; before I die I shall be enabled to judge of your future conduct when I am no more." pavilion from whence those sweet and tender accents issued. I leaned against a tree, and there remained motionless. An entire stranger to all that surrounded me; hearing only that voice which was equally unknown to me, but which seemed to come from heaven, or intended to reach the celestial abode, I felt a charm that it is not in my power to define; and became forgetful of the whole world besides, and of my own self. The voice ceased, and immediately several persons began to bestow high encomiums on her who had just done singing. At that same moment my illusion was at an end; those eulogiums vexed me. I cannot tell whether she to whom I was indebted for such sweet impressions had with-inspired me with too particular an interest, but I felt angry with her. I imagined that she was anxious of being praised. It is by dint of art, thought I, that she has found out those melting notes, that she has surprised my unguarded heart. As I retreated hastily from the pavilion, I felt a kind of inward delight at not having seen the songstress. Perhaps I shall meet her some day without knowing her to be the same object; perhaps she will again charm me, without putting me in mind of the applause which still rings in mine ears. Provided she sing not, let her speak to me. How sweet her voice must be! Whilst he was speaking, I vowed in myself never to forget so much kindness. 15th June. I went down this morning into the garden my mother liked so much. How many sad and pleasing thoughts at once occurred to me! Every inch of ground, every tree reminded me of my childhood. The tender care and attention of my mother are so interwoven with the early part of my life, that I know not from what period, from what day I am to date a recollection without the remembrance of her being thereto connected. My mother and I, I and my mother, fill up all the days of my youth. O ye tender affections of the soul which she always endeavoured to inculcate within me; generous compassion, unlimited benevolence, lead me through life that I may find out and relieve the distressed; ye tears of sensibility and of gratitude never forsake me, yet remain unseen, for men have named || you-weakness! Close by the pavilion where she had been seated stood a rose tree, overloaded with roses; I had plucked one, which, without being able to account from what motive, I had smelled with particular delight, every time that her enchanting music had created new emotions in my breast. When I entered my apartment, I could see by the lights that I still held the flower in my hand; but I did not like it any more; I threw it on my table, and went to bed. When I awoke in the morning it was faded, and I began to regret the loss of it. I took a walk in my father's garden, where there are abundance of rose trees; but cannot tell wherefore so many flowers collect 24th June. My father having retired yesterday at an early hour, I went to take a walk across the fields. I followed mechanically the course of a rivulet that led || me to a delightful park, which I entered. || It was a moon-light night; never had the sky appeared to me so bright; the air was embalmed with the sweet scent of the surrounding flowers, and I now and then stop-ed increased my ill-humour. At last I disped to inhale their perfume; frequently covered a solitary rose, which, on that acwould I look up to the beautiful heavens, count, appeared to me more beautiful than the better to enjoy my emotion. From a the rest, and I tore it off. Whilst smelling distance I heard the interrupted sounds of ait, I wished it might procure similar senplaintive ballad; and gently drew near a sations to those I had experienced from the other, indeed it put me in mind of them, but was no substitute. It was broad daylight; I was alone; it was no more than a rose. 25th June.-Yesterday's evening has left me in a state of perturbation that I am at a loss to account for. This morning, whilst walking alone, I was pleased with the idea of creating a soul and an enchanting figure to that voice which had come to place itself between me and heaven. Yet from the divers impressions I had experienced, it occurred to me that if that woman had sung a gay and lively tune, I should have heard it only as a troublesome noise calculated to interrupt my reverie. In my opinion, joy requires the light of day; cheerfulness must, as it were, be seen, to be partaken of: whereas yesterday the loneliness and silence of the night, the doubtful uncertain light of the moon, had disposed me to melancholy. The plaintive sounds I had heard easily persuaded me to believe in love, to compassionate the sufferings it occasions, and yet to wish I myself were a lover. 1st July.-Wherefore is that same woman continually present to my mind, and why dare I not mention her to my father? I told him, however, of my walk in the unknown park. The small river that leads to it,—the pavilion where I stopped, and the profusion of flowers, induced him to believe it belonged to Lord Seymour, to whom he had, long since, intended to introduce me. Accordingly we had no sooner done dinner than he ordered his horses to be got ready, and we set off to pay his Lordship a visit. || no, no, in beauty, for certain, she surpasses the generality of her sex. I immediately fancied I could see her decked in all the luxuriance of youth and beauty, but with the art of a coquette. How could I, who never, I thought, had taken the least notice of any woman's dress, thus pourtray to myself all the exaggerated fantasies of fashion? My father was speaking to me, I hardly listened to him; his astonished looks redoubled my confusion; but as we were at our journey's end, he had not time to ask me such questious as I should have been at a loss to answer. Lord Seymour came out to meet us. After the usual compliments, he conducted us into the saloon, and introduced me to his family. I shall not attempt to describe the secret inquietude which prompted me to keep my eyes cast downwards, from the apprehension of not seeing her whom my heart wished for. As soon as I dared to look at the daughters of his Lordship, all my doubts were instantly removed. Let me indulge the whim of representing the whole family in the same order as they were seated. Close to the chimney, on the right hand side, was Lady Seymour, who seemed labouring under a gradual decline, yet her sufferings altered neither the regularity of her features, nor the lovely sweetness of her countenance. Her weak debilitated condition, and the particular attention requisite to hear what she says, gave an additional charm to her expressions of kindness. Maria, her third daughter, sat by her side. Never was a child more like her mother; but as timidity prevents her speaking, her fine eyes only seek to By how many various emotions 1 was meet yours, whenever you have said someagitated on the road! Who knows, thing that pleases her; whereas, if a word thought 1, but the voice which I heard or an omission to her appear unbecoming, may be that of a temporary visitant? 1 she no longer relies on her own judgment, have always dreaded new acquaintances, but her looks enquire of her mother wheand lo! I am now hurrying to Lord Sey- ||ther or no she is right in being dissatisfied. mour's, whom I have never seen! To Maria, I know not whether it is you what purpose? To meet a person who, || whose voice has charmed me; neither do I perhaps, is already gone. This apprehen- || wish any longer to make the enquiry. I sion haunted me,-perplexed me, when a know not whether I should wish to find sweet voice seemed to exclaim:-" Deluded youth! It would be happiness for thee not to meet her this day: to-morrow, at least, thou wouldst seek her, in hopes of finding her such as thou wished to see her." If the creature happened to be ugly! Ugly! you possessed of those enchanting talents; I wish to love you, but I should apprehend to be seduced. Maria, I love you with a similar affection to that which you bear your mother; 1 love you on account of all the imperfections of your sisters: each of their pretensions serves to shew your endowments to greater advantage: 1 love you on account of that reserve, of that silence, which seem to prognosticate that the feelings of your heart will be revealed but to one alone. Maria, I know not whether you are rich, but I am certain that you are bountiful. If the poor do not utter your name with affection and gratitude, my heart will awake disappointed after a long dream. On the left side of the chimney-piece was Lord Seymour, reclining in a great arm-chair, with two large dogs sleeping by him, which he awoke alternately by caresses, or loud vociferations, for they seemingly engaged his whole attention. Miss Sarah made her appearance in a riding habit. She was his Lordship's eldest daughter; and was pleased to display great sprightliness and gaiety: to speak the truth, she will always laugh without cause, the same as she is continually in motion without motive. I was introduced to her; she asked me whether I was foud of dogs and horses, and set me down in the list of her companions at the next hunt, without deigning to enquire whether I was disengaged. Maria had no share in those arrangements. Although I questioned not what answer she would return, I ventured to ask whether she partook of those amusements. Miss Sarah replied with a sneer: "Maria never out-passes our doors.""Yes," continued Lady Seymour, stays by me; she repays to my weakness that support which I lent to her childhood." Maria lifted up her eyes to heaven, and instantly cast them down on her work. I understand you well, Maria; to heaven you returned the pure offering of a mother's grateful acknowledgment! But your downcast eyes tell me also how much your feeling heart is apprehensive of hurting your sisters. she Miss Sarah sat caressing her father' dogs, and Lord Seymour looking at his lady with an air of dissatisfaction. A long silence had taken place, which was interrupted only by the arrival of Miss Indiana, his Lordship's sister, and Miss Eudoxia, his second daughter. I was likewise introduced to those ladies, who, indeed, paid very little attention to me, till my father happened to say that I was just come from Oxford. " O Lord!" cried Miss Eudoxia, "how severely you must regret having left a town that contains so many learned meu! Books alone can replace their conversation." Maria's confusion and Lady Seymour's uneasiness spoke but too plainly how much they were grieved at that ridi culous pretension. To Miss Eudoxia I replied, drily, that learned men frequently sought in conversation to become forgetful of their books. She looked at her aunt with an air of surprize and scorn, intended for me, and asked me several questions which were better suited for the hearing of a female; however, that piece of vengeance amused me. In the evening all the pretended literati of the neighbourhood came to pay their compliments to Miss Eudoxia. Maria made tea. From what effect of self love do we wish to be bestowed on her whom we love, those suffrages we would scorn being granted to us personally? I suffered to hear those wits never address Maria, but to give her the trouble of helping them; they hurt my feelings, without being able to alter my opinion. Lord Seymour and Miss Sarah left the company; Lady Seymour invited me to come and sit by her. With what veneration, what regret, she spoke to me of my excellent mother. At every sentence Maria sighed, and looked alternately at her mother, at me, at my deep mourning, when a melting and consoling compassion was depicted in her looks.-Maria, I should have liked to deposit my sorrows in your bosom; but I was conscious at the same time, that if I am doomed to endure farther calamities, it is in your company that I would wish to spend the days of my troubles. In proportion as Lady Seymour shewed me greater attention, Miss Indiana and Miss sEudoxia treated me with more politeness, although with undisguised ill humour: they even finally would address me without ceasing. The kind Lady Seymour, too weak to stand such idle chattering, begged being permitted to retire. Maria instantly held out her arm to her mother. As soon as they were gone, the saloon appeared to me a desart, and the conversation insupportable. I dragged away my father, and effected my escape with as much joy as a boy leaves his school. stranger to those delicate, feelings; she looked at me with surprize, burst out taughing, and galloped away as if nothing had happened. I was out of patience with 8th July.-Yesterday morning I received an invitation from Lord Seymour and Miss Sarah, to join them immediately on a hunt-her, but she turned my ill humour and in quietude into ridicule. In pursuit of danger, for the mere sake of terrifying me, she left the plain to go and leap across a wide ditch, bowing to me with an air of mockery. What right had she to expect she could disturb my peace? In all probability Sarah was of a lively, giddy, natural disposition; her thoughtlesuess had occasioned laughter, and Sarah had become inconsiderate for all the days of her. life! Those imperfections which we pride resemble ugliness in full dress, and are seen in full view. ing party, which they assured me would Lord Seymour joined us. On my return with the rest of the party, I would now and then fondle my horse, and speak to him as to a friend. The poor animal was not aware that he was. indebted for those caresses to Sarah having displeased me, or that before she had done so I might haye sacrificed him either to follow, or to overtake her. The same will occur in the world, thought I; he who receives a token I had scarcely heard the sound of the horn, and the voice of the sportsman, when, to my surprize, I partook of the general glee. Wholly devoted to Maria, I had for-ofunexpected friendly interest, ought to ingot that I was fond of dogs and horses; but when I had once joined the party, I felt those first passions of my youth to be revived within me. Miss Sarah would have me ride by her. Her frank and open sprightliness awakened mine; I could have thought that we had always lived together. I admired her graceful ease, her courage, and even her temeri The sun shone, in its full resplendence, the air was pure, and the azure skies unspotted by a cloud. We surmounted every obstacle; she appeared to me to be an aerial deity. Most unfortunately her horse stumbled, she had a fall, but I hastened to help her up. She wanted to remount immediately, notwithstanding I advised her not to expose herself. Though she was regardless of danger, I wished, at least, that she would reflect for a moment on that which she had but so recently escaped; that she would sympathize with me in her good fortune at not being hurt; nay, perhaps did I wish she had shewn symptoms of fear, of that timid weakness which are characteristic of her sex. But Sarah was a vestigate to what sensation of joy, or of ill humour, he is obliged for the bounty. We all dined with Lord Seymour; Miss. Indiana, and her niece Eudoxia, were in the drawing-room. "Most assuredly, brother," said the former lady, "you have been forgetting yourself long enough." " How so?" replied his Lordship; "say that I have been much amused," "But," returned she, "I am not accustomed to dine so late." Miss. Indiana then began to cough, to fret, and to расе the apartment, staggering as if she could hardly keep on her legs. Fatigued at such affectation, I ran to reach her the same chair she had but just left; she gazed at me with surprize, but yet returned me thanks. How frequently she did speak of her extreme weakness! she was faintexhausted-dying-nobody felt for her!Ladies ought to wait till their state of health is enquired into, before they introduce the subject. "Don't be uneasy about my aunt," Sarah whispered to me ; "the hour at which she, generally dines is not come yet." As she finished those words, Maria entered the room. It seemed as if I had waited her arrival to be personally attentive to the company present. I felt great inquietude respecting the place where Maria was going to take her seat: would accident or inclination have her come near me? would she keep at a distance? would she favour me with a look as she passed by me? Every one of her motions, in short, gave rise to a vague impression of fear or of hope. make me miserable, or I shall tyrannize over her. If she be calm, I will tax her of indifference. If ou my returu she should appear happy, I will think that she had not cared about my absence; or were she to look sad, that she derives no satisfaction from seeing me again. In short, I am not yet in love, and I already have a foresight of all the agitations that attend love. I was absorbed in those reflections, when Maria appeared in the path that leads to the pavilion, followed by two women, who carried baskets filled with flowers. She "Sarah is gone blushed as she saw me. to take a ride," said she. "Eudoxia spends the forenoon in the library; I am come here to prepare my mother's breakfast;— she is partial to this solitary retreat; we expected to have been alone." Maria blushed still more as she spoke these last words. Was it an invitation for me to Maria advanced towards her father, to whom she curtsied, with a timidity which seemed to solicit a kind look, an affectionate address. His Lordship seized her hand, saying: "Maria, how is your mother?" Maria, till you came in, your father, although in his own house, and with his daughters, seemed to be among strangers; it was you from whom he expected to hear of his wife, of the mother of your sisters! You alone discharge the duties of filial love and respect; that duty so pleas-partake of their solitude, or a warning to ing, so endearing, that whilst seeing you, my thoughts recalled the time when I myself was engaged in shewing attention to a mother. I do not love yet, but I could not help thinking this is the daughter which my mother would have chosen. We were called down to dinner; it was my misfortune to be seated at a distance from Maria; neither could I get near her after dinner: the remaining part of the day, therefore, was lost for me. 12th July.-I went out at an early hour this morning, and, as usual, directed my course towards Lord Seymour's park. I approached the pavilion where I had heard the ravishing voice. The door was shut, and I could not get in; the rose bush was divested of its flowers; before it is long, its leaves also will fall: the reflection made me melancholy. Reclining on the turf, I called myself to an account respecting the inclination I felt for Maria; I, whose soul combined so many contradictory sentiments; I, who was at once jealous, susceptible, tyrannical, suspicious, and inconsiderate! Yes, inconside rate, for I would 'shun Maria at the sight of one single defect; and perhaps perfection in her might weary me. How could I presume to indulge a sentiment of love, when mere friendship has suffered a thousand times from my injustice? Maria either will respect it? "Pray how does Lady Seymour do?"—" Better to-day; the weather is so fine!"-She smiled, and that smile did not bid me be gone. Maria holds the key of the pavilion; she opens the door. Wherefore will I not know myself? I question whether I love her, and my heart beats with anxiety, doubtful whether she will bid me farewell, or desire me to follow her. Maria feels equal embarrassment to mine; she bids one of her attendants to step in, then the other; but what is she to do herself? If she follows her first design, and enters into the pavilion without thinking of me, I shall withdraw, I will not see her again; but what pain shall I have to endure? If she proposes my following her, it will be an act of indiscretion which I am certain to upbraid her with at a future period.Maria! Maria!" are you already in possés- ́ sion of my entire soul? I occasionally surprize myself promising to make you happy, as if your happiness were uncertain, or at my disposal. To whom do I make those solemn protestations, of which you have not the least idea? to myself, to my very soul, that jealous severe disposition, which the knowledge of love occasions me to dread. (To be continued.) |