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real smile with which she returned my respectful salute. This, however, her escort spoiled by hurrying her on. Sir Harry, indeed, was neutral, but Mansell and her brother were evidently molested by the rencontre, and wished to elude it.

For Mansell I did not care, but not so with Foljambe, whose marked and studious coldness could not be mistaken, and filled me with resentment as well as grief. He stalked away, almost forcing his sister with him into the grounds of the palace, whose gates opened wide to receive them, but closed swiftly and suddenly on me, as if unworthy their company.

This maddened me, and I returned to the city, bitterly brooding over the truths impressed upon me so forcibly by my prophetic tutor, on the miseries of unequal friendships. “The deep waters of the proud,” said I, as I walked on, “have gone over my soul ; my soul is filled with the scornful reproof of the wealthy, and with the deceitfulness of the proud.”

In this temper, for the twentieth time, I resolved (never again to be bent from it) to give up the whole affair, and banish Bertha, and certainly her brother, from

my memory for ever.

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Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun
Peered forth the golden window of the east,
A troubled mind drove me to walk abroad,
Where, underneath the grove of sycamore,
So early walking did I see your son.
Tow'rds him I made, but he was 'ware of me,
And stole into the covert of the wood.

SHAKSPEARE.—Romeo Juliet. How well I pursued the resolutions I formel, shall now be disclosed. The contending feelings I had undergone left me neither inclination nor power to enter into either the business or amusements of the place. My father's occupation at the castle gave me the full disposal of myself, and, like the wise person I was, I disposed of myself in just the most imprudent manner I could, for I sought my recovery in solitude.

About a mile from York there is a romantic dell, through which a transparent brook runs gurgling and bubbling, delighting the ear with its music and the

eye with its sparkle--both so soothing, because so gentle. I had discovered it by chance in roaming through the suburbs, it being in fact much hid by its mounds, though tributary to the Ouse. It wound, now softly and slow, now rattling and rapid, between two willowy sides, along one of which was a pleasant path, which, from its being circuitous from the city, was little frequented. To me, this only added to its charms, for here I could muse on whatever subject “ till fancy had her fill;" and here I did muse on that subject which was always uppermost in my

heart. But even without this, there is something in a brook which always lays hold of the mind, quietly indeed, and almost imperceptibly, but with an increasing and lasting attraction which scenes more tumultuous do not possėss. Whatever your humour, a brook admi. nisters to it. It adapts itself to every sense. it soothes, it exhilarates; it moans, it laughs; it sighs, it sings ; it is silent, it babbles; it loiters, it rushes; it is darksome, it is brilliant; it stands still, it leaps forward ; it is all melancholy, all gay. Then again, it has a freshness which nothing else can confer, no art imitate, or luxury reach: it gives coolness to the feeling, and sweetness to the taste. But its moral effects are still more pleasing. It dispels gloom and languor ; promotes benevolence and gratitude; sympathizes with the low in spirit, and will not suffer the proud to set up their horn. It has vivacity for the young; tranquillity for the old; it promotes a love for elegant nature, and a taste for elegant poetry : above all, it is so hallowed and peaceful, that it will suffer no guilty or

tumultuous thought to pollute its vicinage, but diffuses holiness, innocence, and cheerful virtue over everything around. He who possesses such a brook may almost laugh at the world.

What a fortune was this retreat to any contemplative man—particularly a contemplative lover. But its effect upon me, after a very short acquaintance with it, was anything but what I intended—that is, in the leisure it afforded to fortify me in my resolution to forget Bertha. For two days the early morning always found me there, and I could scarce leave it in the late evening ; for every murmur of the waterevery flower on its margin-and, above all, the sweet freshness of its banks, spoke, looked, and breathed of nothing but Bertha.

Had I been wise I should never have visited this spot twice. But I was a fool—that is to say, romantic -if romance, which so beguiles us into happiness, is folly. For a few yards the path was beautifully ornamented with an avenue of sycamores, which, from the busy scenes in the city, was now wholly deserted. It suited better on that account with my humour, and was perhaps the principal attraction of the place. At the foot of one of these sycamores (umbratilis arbos) I laid me down,

Wrapt in a pleasing fit of melancholy,

To meditate my rural minstrelsy,” of which take the fruits, gentle reader, if only because they so incontestably prove the advance I had made in my cure.


Ah! why repress the bursting sigh,

Or why the starting tear restrain ?
The bliss of sensibility

Doth richly over-pay the pain.

Then feed on thoughts, my soul, that move

The purest, tenderest desire ;
Live on your hope, nor cease to love,

Nor fear to fan the generous fire.

Those speaking eyes, sweet girl, 'tis true,

On me with love were never turn'd;
But hate, if hate can dwell in you,

In you I never yet discern'd.

That dimpled cheek, which lightly glows,

Ne'er glow'd with love for me, I own;
But on those downy arched brows

I never yet observed a frown.

Perhaps those eyes may one day turn

On me, and with soft favour shine ;
Perhaps that cheek may one day burn

With the same fire that flushes mine.

Then feed on thoughts, my soul, that move

The purest, tenderest desire ;
Live on your hope, nor cease to love,

Nor fear to fan the generous fire.

Having finished this effusion, I returned with it to my lodgings, far more satisfied, I fear, than if it had been the most profound stoical treatise de contemptu amoris. Here I spread it on my table, in order to give it a last polish, and here I left it, on being called away to speak to my father in the Castle-yard, saying I would

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