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Delighted with their cordial reception, Mingotli and his fosterchild saw several days pass with unusual rapidity, nor once repented the eagerness with which they had quitted Marino to learn the fate of their valued friend.

The time soon arrived when Taverini and his iniquitous assistant were to receive the reward of their crimes; and on the morning after their condemnation, a memoir from Giovanni was received by the Countess, which accounted for the full revival of her long protracted felicity. It was couched in the following terms:

MEMOIR OF GIOVANNI TAVERINI.

THE FIRST PART WRITTEN BEFORE HIS CONDEMNATION,

Ar a moment when the treachery and baseness of a conduct; which has brought about destruction to all my prospects, can no longer further the views I am constrained to abandon, this confession can claim no merit; nor is it extorted so much by justice, as a means of checking the triumph my fall has occasioned.Know, then, Lady Juliana, that, in default of a nearer claim, I, the despised Giovanni, am heir to Vanzenza's possessions; nor wonder if I strove to obtain it by what the cold-blooded man would denominate unlawful methods. Yes, Lady, I glory in the mischief I have wrought; and have the consolation to know, there is another dart in store to wound your peace-Yourchild, the little Leonilla, I sent to England; where she soon died. I fabricated the trumpery tale of my Cousin's apparition; and I mark well the policy-imitated with exactitude a voice not easily to be copied. But what am I about?-Ah! how different are the sentiments which now actuated the wretched Taverinimy fate is decided-I must die!-Horrible!-No recompence can be made-Murdered Francis!-lost Leonilla!-Tortured Roderigo! When I began to write, it was under the influence of raging passion:-now reflection, aided by the representation of a worthy Monk, supersedes the reign of malice, and I am constrained to say-I repent! Forgive, then, oh ye remaining victims of my infernal malice, forgive a wretch who cannot forgive himself!Ha! what says Carlotti?-Lady Juliana, your child lives-She is at St. Marino.-Claim her, Lady;She is at Marino, I repeat.' But first hear Carlotti's confession, which you would have known before, but for reasons he chuses not to explain; although I imagine they originated in the hope of again seeing you, and expecting, on that confession, to claim your interference for his release. Those hopes are done away, and this is what he says-"That, in consequence of my orders, he conveyed the child and her nurse to England, where they were hospitably received. The horrid business I meant him to trans

act inducing him to return, he hastened hither, after appointing a means of correspondence with Leonilla's attendant, for whom. he professed a great attachment. In consequence of which he was soon informed that the 'Countess of Salisbury, attracted by the child's beauty, took her into the family, and afterwards leaving England with the Earl, she was permitted to take the little girl and her nurse with her, who had informed them of its origin, which procured Leonilla an attention equal to what a child of their own would have received. It was long after this, that the Earl had been taken by the Turks, his family scattered, and himself numbered with the dead;-and about two years since, business calling him to Marino, he saw a lovely creature, who was reported to be brought from Syria. The sight of this young girl immediately called to mind Leonilla, and his treachery; not that he could retain any knowledge of her features, but Leonilla had been taken to Palestine, and there was a possibility of her being captured with the Earl."

"Blessed

"It must be so," cried the weeping Countess. Jacques, thou hast preserved my child, and Leonilla shall reward thee!"

The memoir then concluded with reiterated petitions for pardon to those he had so grievously offended; who, struck by the evident sincerity of Taverini, joined in a full and free forgiveness of both the unhappy men. From a concomitance of every circumstance relating to Lucia's history, her consanguinity to the noble family was established beyond a doubt; herself remembering something of a voyage to palestine-of seeing Lord Salisbury dying in the tent;-and she thought the Countess died on her passage to Palestine.. Of the nurse she knew nothing after their arrival, nor was that of much consequence to those who had been so much injured by her treachery. But what fixed the idea of Lucia's affinity to Lady Juliana still more strongly, was the evidence of the ring, which, upon opening a spring, discovered the initials V. under a very small miniature, where that Lady's features were exactly delineated.

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To Count Vanzenza, who daily approached to convalescence, this developement was particularly delightful. His paternal affections were Leonilla's before her origin was ascertained; and he now thanked heaven for the society his soul loved. Of his own family nothing ever transpired, and the secret anguish he nourished for their loss proved the insufficiency of mortal enjoy

ments.

It is hardly necessary to add, that Jacques and Marian withstood the very liberal offers of their noble friends, who wished them to reside at the castle, and passed the residue of their peaceful days at their favourite republic.

SONG.

THE sailor slumb'ring on the stormy deep,
Dreams of the blissful home he left behind!
And torturing men'ry often wakes to weep
O'er pleasures past-still ling'ring on the mind.
The soldier 'midst the din of battle's roar,

Feels nature's softness clinging round his breast;
And thinks on those whom he shall view no more,
Ere yet he sinks 'mid victory to rest.

So, Rosa, when I gaze upon thy charms,
Each pulse of active life forgets to move;
I long to quit the busy world's alarms-

Forget all else, and lose myself in love!

[We have copied the above, and the Poetry in our last Number, from a collection of Miscellaneous Poems, recently published under the Title of MELANCHOLY HOURS."]

FROM ANSTEY'S PLEADER'S GUIDE.

"Still bent on adding to your store

The graces of a pleader's lore;
And, better to improve your taste,
Are by your parents' fondness plac'd
Among the blest, the chosen few,
(Blest, if their happiness they knew,)
Who for three hundred guineas paid.
To some great master of the trade,
Have, at his rooms, by special favour,
His leave to use their best endeavour,
By drawing pleas, from nine till four,
To earn him twice three hundred more;
And after dinner may repair

To 'foresaid rooms, and then and there
Have foresaid leave, from five till ten,
To draw th' aforesaid pleas again."

"Light lie the sculptur'd marble o'er his breast,

Blaz'd be his virtues, and his sins suppress'd;

And wheresoe'er his bones be laid,

Thrice honoured be that lawyer's shade,

Who truth with nonsense first combin'd,

And equity with fiction join'd,

And had the goodness to assign us
Latitat, capias, et quo minus!" &c. &c.

THE LIFE OF H. M. DE LATUDE,

Who was imprisoned Thirty-five years in the Bastile.

The Pamphleteer, a Periodical Work of great merit, from which the following is an extract, states that it was never before published in this country.

M. LATUDE was born in 1725, at the chateau of his father, the Marquis de Latude, in Languedoc. A taste for mathematical pursuits distinguished him very early, and his parents encouraged it by sending him to Bergen-op-Zoom, and placing him under the care of M. Dumai, Engineer in Chief. The peace of 1748 stopped his expected promotion, and he was sent to Paris, at the age of twenty-three, to follow his mathematical studies, and finish his education.

Full of ambition and high spirits, he sighed for distinction, but he had no interest to push him forward; at length he endeavoured to gain himself a protector by the following wild scheme.

Madame de Pompadour was the reigning favourite, and so absolutely governed Louis the Fifteenth and his Court, that she could make, or unmake, the fortune of any man by a wordbut she was proud, cruel, and consequently detested. Latude thought he might avail himself of this public indignation, of which she was well informed, pretend a plot against her life, and secure her favour by making the discovery; he therefore sent by the post a small box of common powder, perfectly harmless, then waited on the Lady, and informed her that such a thing was coming to her, and made up a very alarming story of a conspiracy to poison her. The Marquise expressed the most lively gratitude, and offered him a purse of gold, which he declined, at the same time dropping a hint that he was unprovided for; and intimating, in the most delicate manner he could, that her patronage was the object of his ambition. It was, probably, some suspicion occasioned by his conduct, which induced her to desire him to write down his address. He did it, and the writing betrayed him. The next day, his dreams of approaching greatness was destroyed, by the arrival of a guard to convey him to the Bastille. He was there stripped of all he had, dressed in coarse clothing, which had served several of his wretched predecessors, and shut up in a room, to meditate on his change of fortune. The next morning, the Lieutenant of the Police came to examine him Latude candidly confessed the folly he had committed, and so gained upon the good opinion of the Lieutenant, that he promised he would exert his influence with Madame Pompadour to procure his pardon. The application was unsuccessful; and all the advantages he derived from the zeal of his new friend, was the use of some books, and the privilege of taking occasional exercise in the air. A still farther comfort was the society of another prisoner, a Jew, who was put into the same room.

(To be continued.)

THE NARRATOR No. VII

INEBRIATION.

(Continued from page 107.)

Joslyne was the son of a wealthy Yeoman on the Kentish Downs, reared by indulgent parents with the greatest attention. His person was tall, handsome, and robust, possessing as much strength as any five of his neighbours: no one could manage his bow, or throw the lance like Joslyne; he had also the voice of the nightingale, and delighted much in the. harp, and in minstrelsy. Possessed of these qualifications, it is no wonder that Joslyne should mingle with (what is called) good company, until his patrimony was exhausted, when the prodigal, to escape the miseries of poverty, became a Lay Brother of Bradsole, or the Abbey of St. Rhadagand, His business was to attend the Monks, to keep clean the Re-fectory, to provide billets for all the fires, and to brew good ale, an art for which Joslyne was particularly famous, and which won him the heart of the Father Abbot, and the affections of the whole fraternity; but to counterbalance this perfection, he had an incurable propensity towards the drinking of it, and in large portions, so that sobriety was seldom discoverable in Joslyne; but, for his fine voice, his cheerful spirits, and eccentricities, the brotherhood were ever ready to forgive him, and the good-natured Abbot to overlook his defects, till one fatal day, while presenting the cup and salver to the Abbot of St. Augustine's, Joslyne staggered on the gouty foot of the holy man, and made him roar, out like a pricked bugle at a bull-fight. For the present the thing was overlooked, but in the morning, by way of penance, Joslyne was ordered to go unshod to Canterbury, and there to ask pardon of the Mitered Abbot, for the pain he had occasioned his reverence at Bradsole. To travel a dozen miles barefooted over the flinty hills of Kent, was intolerable to Joslyne; a stratagem presented itself, and it was immediately put in practice a blood mare belonging to the Abbey had been divested of her shoes, and turned with her foal to graze upon the waste. This Joslyne mounted, first putting his own socks aside, and arrived at St. Austin's; having apparently performed his penance, he received absolution from the of

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