Bourdeaux. I shall only quote his answer to a young Officer of the garrison, who, in a quarrel at the theatre, inconsiderately approached the Marshal's box to complain of some one having spit in his face. For shame, Sir," replied he; "go quickly and wash yourself." In order to feel all the finesse of this reply, it must be recollected that in France such an affront could only be washed away in the blood of the person who offered it. Nevertheless, the Marshals of France were obliged, by the duties of their office, to hinder and punish duels, which was a part of their office they never dared fulfil M. de Richelieu had himself killed the Prince de Lixen, a relation of Mademoiselle de Guise, his second wife, on account of his having expressed rather too freely his disapprobation of this marriage. I must add, that a soldier who, to conform to the decrees of a tribunal of Marshals, had refused a duel, would never arrive at this eminent dignity. The Marshal de Richelieu exercised during the last years of his life, the functions of President of the tribunal, which belonged to the senior Marshal. He did not conduct himself like one of his predecessors, whose parsimony was such that he went by the name of the Marshal of the Diet. M. de Richelieu's establishment, on the contrary, was magnificent; but his house was very little frequented by young men, and his society was generally composed of his cotemporaries. There was, amongst others, the Duchess of Phalaris, a lady who might have been termed with propriety a walking history of the court for more than sixty years before the period of which I am writing. It was in her arms that the Regent had expired; an event that took place nearly sixty years before I became acquainted with her. She must have been beautiful at that time, but|| when I saw her she was hideous; her livid and wrinkled skin was covered with pearlpowder and rouge, and her light coloured wig formed a striking contrast with her eye-brows, which were coloured black. It was a whim of this lady's to delight in embracing young people; and under the pretence of I know not what relationship, she honoured me with a salute, which I very well could have dispensed with. She was nick-named Mother Jezebel, an appellation

which I confess I thought suited her very

well.

Other characters who visited the Duke were, the Marshal de Biron, a nobleman alike distinguished by birth, character, and figure, and the Count d'Argental, who is so often mentioned in the correspondence of Voltaire, who for forty years called him his angel, concluding all his letters by putting himself under the shadow of his wings. This compliment was not in any way suited to the Count, whose figure was excessively clumsy, and whose conversation was far from engaging. Amongst the Marshal's visitors was one whose aspect and character were equally venerable, it was the President Nicolay. The figure of this worthy magistrate was truly venerable; he was tall, and wore his own white hair which reached to his shoulders; his countenance was grave and serene, and you might easily trace in it that virtue which was hereditary in his family..

M. de Richelieu finished, at the advanced age of ninety, a career less remarkable for its extraordinary length than for its singularity in other respects. At an age when other young men were still at college, he was already married, the gallant of a great Princess, and a state prisoner; and when he had completed his sixtieth year, in the possession of the greatest places to which a subject can aspire, after being Ambas sador, Commander in Chief of the army, Governor of a province; at the age, in short, when other men are martyrs to infirmities, he re-married, and appeared to begin a new life.

Though the Marshal never displayed a superior genius, nor performed any of those great actions which cominand the admiration of posterity, yet his wit, his bravery, and his gallantry, assure him a distinguished place in French history. In the field, more fortunate and brave than skilful; in love, more seducing than passionate; in the world, more admired than esteemed; the splendour of his successes in every department, preserved him from the odium which his immorality merited; and we are inclined to throw the blame of his vices on the age in which he lived, rather than on himself.

YOUTHFUL ERRORS AMENDED, AND THE REWARD OF CONJUGAL

FIDELITY.

A TALE FROM THE SPANISH.

(Concluded from Page 216.)

| playing on the guittar! Don Ferdinand did not know his wife, though he looked at her with much attention: it is true, that sorrow, necessity, and grief, had very much altered her countenance.

Lucretia took Donna Clara into her service; and the latter, in the hope of breaking off a connection which had rendered her life wretched, resolved to submit to one who was every way her inferior. Her new mistress gave her up the keys of all her effects, except that which opened a closet, wherein were kept her books and many rare curiosities; she gave her the superintendance over the other domestics, and recommended to her, above all things, the greatest care and attention towards Don Ferdinand. Donna Clara dissembled

Ir was now eighteen months, and Clara had not heard any thing of Don Ferdinand, when she saw a person who had met him at Seville. She resolved to join him there, and make every effort to recall him to his home and family. One thing embarrassed her much, and that was the choice of some person to whom she could confide her daughters during her absence. Donna Juana had been professed in the convent she had made choice of, and congratulated herself every day that she had not been so unfortunate as to be the wife of Don Ferdinand; and having heard of Donna Clara's embarrassments, she requested her to call on her in the Convent. After having related all that had passed between her and Ferdinand, she proposed to Clara to take the charge of her children's education.her anguish, and for a whole year she lived Clara, penetrated with the most lively gratitude, accepted her offers; and the young ladies being immediately confided to her care, Juana gave the mother a purse well filled, to defray the expence of her expedition.

as a servant to these two companions, to whom she endeared herself by her gentleness and obligingness, so as entirely to gain their affection. Kindness, in every shape, the presence of her husband, the best and most nourishing food, soon restored to Clara all her former beauty. Lucretia fell into a severe indisposition, and this caused inexpressible grief and vexation to Don Ferdinand. On the fourth day the fever was so violent, that the physicians despair

Donna Clara had a pleasant journey to Seville; but she found herself under much || embarrassment in a populous city, where she had not one single acquaintance; she was totally ignorant of the place where her husband lodged, and also of the name heed of Lucretia's life; and, notwithstanding had adopted: she passed three months in fruitless researches, and finding she should soon be without money, she thought it better to settle herself at Seville, than to return to Toledo, without having fulfilled what she came there for. One day she asked one of her new acquaintance, named Donna Laurenza, if she knew any lady who wanted a waiting woman: the lady said she knew one at that time, who actually had applied to her to recommend her one, that she was an elderly lady, with a young husband, and that she would find it a very easy situation. What were her emotions when on presenting herself, she found it to be Lucretia, whom she well remembered, and her husband sitting by her,

the secret hatred which Clara could not but feel towards her who had deprived her of the affections of her husband, she attended her during her sickness with the most assiduous care. Dinner time being arrived, Don Ferdinand came home one day from a walk, and going into one of the apartments, he saw Clara laying the cloth for dinner; it was the first time she had found herself alone with him, and as he enquired after the health of her mistress, he considered her countenance very attentively, and with apparent emotion. Clara blushed, Don Ferdinand seized her hand, and said, "I really believe it is my dear wife, who has been our servant this year past. How is it that I did not recollect

you? Who could inform you where I was? Tell me how are my daughters? and where have you left them?"

Thus speaking, he could not resist the ardent emotions of his returning tenderness, but straining his wife to his bosom, they could only express their mutual sensations by their tears and embraces.

that Lucretia had never been any thing but his mistress. The Officers of Justice then thought proper for her to make this deposition before the Lieutenant of the Corregidor. He was sent for immediately, and he came, accompanied by several persons of rank, belonging to the town, who were curious to hear the end of this extraordinary adventure. After he had written down the depositions of the witnesses, and interrogated the accused parties, he was soon persuaded of their innocence, and set them free. He found also that the crime alone rested on Lucretia, and that as she had no lawful heirs, her wealth would be confiscated, after Clara had been paid her wages.

Donna Clara, by such an unexpected event, experienced in succession to her late affliction, the most lively joy, and tenderly returned the caresses of Don Ferdinand.When the tumult of emotion, caused by this circumstance, had in part subsided, she related to him all that had befallen her since her departure from Toledo. Their conversation, which took place near the chamber of Lucretia, was too lively and animated for With this money, and with what reher not to hear some part of it. However, mained of that which Donna Juana had all that she could comprehend was, that given her on her departure from Toledo, Don Ferdinand and her chamber-maid || she hired a coach to take back Don Ferseemed to be much delighted with each dinand. Grief. had brought on him a disother. Furious at their daring to use so order which he hoped his native air might little circumspection, while she was lying contribute to cure. But this remedy was on a sick bed, she called Donna Clara, too late; his constitution, already broken and asked her, with a degree of severity, by intemperance, could not stand against what was the nature of her very long con- the deep melancholy which had taken hold ference with Don Ferdinand? Clara, hav- on him, and which augmented every day, ing no longer any desire to preserve the from the disordered state of his affairs. friendship of Lucretia, told her that she He was reduced to such extreme indigence, had regained the affection of her husband, that he had nothing to subsist on but what and had cured him of his ridiculous passion Donna Juana sent him from the convent. for her." "It is time, added she, “to throw || At length, after having languished for two off the mask. You have too long retained months, he died, testifying no other regret Don Ferdinand, and that in a way not very but that of being separated from his be honourable to yourself." She then more loved Clara; who, on her side, found herfully informed her she was his wife. Lu- self so overwhelmed with sorrow at his cretia was thunderstruck at this unforeseen loss, and the necessity to which she found intelligence, aud, for her, disadvantageous herself reduced, and which she durst disevent. Despair and rage uniting their cover to no one, that her life seemed preforce to the violent fever she was in, caused served by a miracle alone. When she knew in her frame so terrible a revolution, that not which course to take, not daring again in a few minutes she was bereft of speech to apply to Donna Juana, who was at great and life. expence already in the education of her daughters, she received assistance from a quarter she little expected, and which was a just reward for the virtues of her noble mind.

This sudden accident produced such dreadful shrieks amongst the young women who attended her, that the whole neighbourhood ran to see what was the matter; and the Justice having been informed of this event, hastened to the house of the defunct. They seized on the person of Don Ferdinand, and interrogated all the servants, who reported all they knew about it. Donna Clara maintained that she was the legitimate wife of Don Ferdinand, and

Don Sancho had just lost his father, and had quitted town to take possession of some considerable estates in the country. While Clara was absent, he had no wish to return; neither would he listen to any proposals of marriage. He had no sooner heard that she was come back to Toledo,

this generous proceeding, attempted to throw herself at his feet. But he prevented her by taking one of her beautiful hands, and imprinting on it a fervent kiss. Ardent to accelerate his felicity, he sent im mediately to a notary to prepare the contract: and in a short time after, having obtained permission of the King to celebrate his marriage, he married Donna Clara, and observed the utmost splendor in the ceremony of his nuptials.

than he sat off privately, and arrived there the day of Don Ferdinand's death. He soon called at the house of the widow, and after having paid her some distant compliments, he buried her husband at his own expence, and with the same magnificence as he had observed at the funeral of his father. After this service was over, he returned to Donna Clara, accompanied by some of the first noblemen belonging to the court, whom he had caused to follow as mourners; and he thus addressed her :Don Sancho did not limit his generosity « Madain, I have just been rendering one merely to Donna Clara: he extended it to last service to Don Ferdinand. You well the daughters of this virtuous female, and know the motives which urged me to it, settled on them a handsome fortune, when and no one is ignorant of my passion for he found them determined on taking the you, which has increased with time; al- veil, in the same convent in which they though you have never shown me the least had been educated. The heart of Donna favour since your marriage, which could give Clara was too grateful not to love with sinme any kind of hope, the respect and admi- cere affection, so generous a husband, and ration which I have ever felt for your vir- whose love had been so tried and constant. tue, have contributed to render me con- The remainder of their days were passed in stant to your beauty; capable, indeed, of the most happy harmony, and they had a itself alone, to triumph over the most in progeny which inherited their virtues with sensible heart. We are both of us now their riches; while the virtuous Clara exindependent of the will of others, since Iperienced in this happy union the recomhave no longer a parent, nor you a husband. It is time to reward my fidelity,|| and to let your virtue be crowned by wealth." Donna Clara, penetrated with

pence of her patient goodness, which had made her support with fortitude, those severe sorrows to which she had been for merly exposed.

THE DUMB LOVER. A TRUE STORY.
FROM THE FRENCH OF MADAME M-

(Continued from Puge 200.)

FRANK was overwhelmed with grief; his eyes continually fixed on the glass, he how could he contrive to see Meta again? had the satisfaction, at the expiration of a How could he succeed in gaining her affec-few days, to behold the celestial face of tions? After mature deliberation he de

Meta. Dame Brigite, as Frank had jutermined to remove the alarms of the mo- diciously imagined, seeing him no longer, ther by never appearing at his window; thought that she had been mistaken, that but how then shall he know whether that she had tired his patience, or that he had of his neighbours is open, and whether left his lodgings; at any rate, the curtain, the curtain is up? Love renders his vo- which had impeded their work, was drawn taries ingenious. Frank sold one of the up, and Frank could see in his glass much rings he had left, bought a pier glass, and better than from his window, where he hung it up at the farther extremity of his || could not look with as much attention. apartment, but in such a manner that the With this scheme, however, he was not house opposite was entirely represented. || fully satisfied; Meta was unacquainted His post of observation thus established, || with it,-Meta did not suspect that he Frank no longer shewed himself, and with thought of her only, or that he could see his back urned towards the window, and "her: by what means was she to be inform

ed of it? By dint of weighing the matter, besides, his music is agreeable to hear whilst we are at work.”

in his mind, he thought at last of a good contrivance. His lute, which had been confined to its case since Frank had had other occupations, might serve him as an interpreter. He took it out, tuned it, and began playing in the amoroso mood.

Frank was no very skilful musician: but is not love the best of all teachers? Frank soon became an accomplished virtuoso, and could express with equal abilities, joy, sadness, uncertainty, hope, despair, in short, the various changes which the tender passion will give rise to. When Meta appeared at the window, the harmonious lute expressed joy and happiness; and if she continued there, the sounds became so soft, so tenderly affectionate, so expressive, that they spoke a declaration in due form; they penetrated to the very soul of the youthful maid, and caused her to shed tears. When she withdrew, the accents of the instrument were sorrowful: if she delayed reappearing, they spoke impatience; when the matron approached, the lute was expressive of rage; in fine, never had any instrument spoken with more precision, and in a manner so very intelligible, that Meta was soon sensible of what she was given to understand: she, in her turn, racked her little brains to find out the means of answering the lute without speaking; and she succeeded.

Meta returned no answer, because she doubted not but the lazy body and the lute player were but one; she continued spinning, as her mother spoke, and only left off her work to cultivate her flowers. Frank was pleased when he saw in his glass a rose and a myrtle tree. Meta watered, tied, placed them close to each other, or removed them to a distance, according to the modulations of the lute. When she left the window only for a few moments, she placed them at a short distance; if she was to be absent for some hours, the pots then occupied both extremities of the board; on her return, they were drawn quite close to one another: the lute most faithfully accompanied the motions of the vases; and before it was long, Meta was convinced that her neighbour could see her and her vases, and that he understood their meaning the same as she comprehended the language of the

lute.

Frank, when at dinner with his landlady, had been making enquiries about their opposite neighbours, and from her, besides what he already knew, was informed that Meta longed for a new gown, which her mother had refused giving her, because there was a scarcity of hemp that year, and that on account of the high price of the article she had been obliged to leave

off trade.

the whole of the money bought a good lot of hemp. Next, by means of flattering, and of offering a small present to the woman from whom he had made the purchase, he prevailed on her to go and offer the hemp for sale to Dame Brigite, at a reduced price. Brigite was delighted at her bargain, paid what she was asked, sold the hemp for double what it had cost her, and on the Sunday following Frank had the pleasure of seeing in his glass his fair Meta,

"Dear mother," said she one day to her, “although I am so fond of flowers I never see any, as we never go out walking; allow Frank instantly took another of his mone, then, to have a few pots on our win-ther's rings, sold it to a jeweller, and with dow." Dame Brigite, who did not foresee that her compliance could be attended with danger, granted the request: she, no doubt, heard the lute also, but not in a like manner to what Meta did; she only fancied that some musician had taken Frank's lodgings, and that he thought of nothing but of improving in his profession; she praised his talent, her daughter likewise bestowed some encomiums, but such only as could not create suspicion. "I like this musician far better than his lazy, idle, pre-ready to go to church, decked in a pretty decessor," would Dame Brigite say; "he is industrious in his way: the other would sit and stare all day long at his window, without attempting any kind of occupa tion; this one, at least, cultivates a talent which may be productive of some benefit:

new gown, that fitted her nicely, and made her look still handsomer; and as Brigite never spun on Sundays, she accompanied her daughter.

The moment Frank imagined they were beyond the house, he ventured to his win