enchantment, robes.

arrayed in the verdant glory of its summer

LADY. I shall long for the time, nay more, as some of my friends are wont to do, I shall doubtless dream of the enjoyment to come. Meanwhile, as the mind's eye sometimes has a finer vision than that of the body, what if you make a picture of our Winter Walk this morning? You may aid those who have never been here, in forming some conception of what they have never seen.

AUTHOR. With such materials before me, it would be more difficult to deny myself the pleasure, than to make the attempt. But here we are again, and the Inner Temple opens to receive us; and what is more, we feel this warm welcome to be no dream or illusion of the

senses.

December 8. 1817.

16*

FAITHFUL OR FALSE?

CHAPTER I.

WHO MEET ON MAY-DAY MORNING.

On the northern bank of the Almadora, not far above where this river becomes united with the waters of the ocean, rises a hill that resembles an immense dome. It is an eminence of such elevation as to be discerned afar off on the sea, and by way of courtesy to be sometimes called a mountain.

Up this eminence or mountain-side, whichever you may choose to name it, I was rambling on May-day morning. A few stars yet twinkled in the blue heaven, and the air wafted a freshness undreamed-of by the slumberer; when winding round a lofty projection of rock, I met the fairest being fashioned in the image of God. The blush of the east glowed on her cheek; her eye was dark, and sparkled with the fire of the soul; while her slender form, habited in white, displayed the airy charm of perfection without a name. She at once stood revealed before me like a vision. With modest confusion, a smile at the same time playing on her lips, she said the beauty of this rural anniversary had invited her abroad, to gather the earliest flowers, and to enjoy the freshness of the season. Her voice was melody, the very sweetness of melody, and its peculiar tone indicated that the Italian was her native language. Culling violets, wind-flowers, and snowdrops, I interwove a wreath, and, crowning her queen of the morning, begged leave to

join her in her mountain excursion. So we turned a little to the right, and moved on together.

As we entered a small valley of the mountain, we approached the grassy mounds of two graves, each marked by a simple head-stone of white marble, and my companion inquired for whom these memorials were erected.

"For two foreigners," I answered, "a father and son. Alberto Gherardi, the son, was a very dear friend of mine. I call him friend; for although considerably older than myself, he was one of the first playmates of my boyhood, and his virtues and affectionate spirit claim my tenderest remembrance."

Possibly it was a misapprehension, but when I pronounced the name, GHERARDI, I thought I perceived in the lady a slight agitation, as she begged me to mention some of the circumstances of their fate.

"It is now about seventeen years," I replied, observing her emotion," since the elder Gherardi, owing to domestic affliction and some difficulties of a political nature, emigrated from Italy. He brought with him an honourable competence, and devoted himself almost exclusively to the education of his son. But the constitution of Alberto was feeble, and so impaired by his too closely applying himself to study, that frequent excursions by sea and land were required to restore or preserve his health.

"Returning from one of these, a trip of several months to the Bermudas, and that "Queen of Western Isles," Barbadoes, he hastened to meet the warm welcome of home. Still a presentiment of evil, to which his imaginative mind, as well as the feebleness of his frame, too often disposed him, mingled with this longing of his heart.

"The sun had set when he arrived. An aged domestic met him at the door. The first word he heard, - alas! it was the thunder-word' of the knight of Toggenburg,

told him all :- his father was no more. He had been drowned in attempting to save a little brother of mine, who overset his boat on the river, and he was now reposing in that grave.

"A few friends endeavoured to alleviate the pressure of Alberto's sorrow. But what are the soothings even of friendship and affection! -The shock he had received,

was too violent for his present weakness: for a considerable time it deprived him of reason. He however had a temporary recovery, but he was fully sensible of his situation." "And was the death of your friend," asked the lady, lingering or rapid? I am more interested in what you tell me of Alberto and his father, than you might expect me to be for persons I never saw; but I am myself a stranger, and from the same dear region of Italy. Blessed be the kind spirits, that pitied, consoled, and relieved!"

Grateful for this sympathy, I replied with emotion: "One evening when I visited my friend, he invited me to take a walk with him by the river-side. The full moon was pouring her light over hill and river, mountain and ravine. For a long while we were absorbed in reverie; but a view of the moon gleaming on the water, and a strain of music which seemed to float with her radiance over the wave, gradually recalled our thoughts. Alberto addressed me :

"My friend, St. Helier,' said he, often amid my wanderings, when far from the scenes of home, often have I sunk in reveries like this. The bird-nesting we used to have on Woodhill, the squirrel-hunting among the oaks and walnuts of Ox-Common, the snaring of partridges in Birch-Swamp, and pickerel-fishing along the shores of Great Pond, these were all most vivid in remembrance. My soul hovered, too, over my father. Every word of admonition lost its severity; every little incident, a serious or witty remark, a lively or plaintive song, some striking or whimsical originality, and a thousand nameless associations mixed with the memory of home. At last I have returned to a home of death, and returned myself only to die.' "I entreated him not to indulge a presage like this, but rather to look forward to a gradual restoration. He replied with a melancholy smile, while a flash of wildness illumined his features:

"I know my situation to be dangerous, but I hope I am resigned. Nay more, I long to rejoin my parents in a happier world. Yonder curtain of God separates us,—and who can say how little!- from the awful mysteries to which they are admitted,- awful and yet lovely. When will this veil be removed? When will the heavens be

folded up? Oh when will the light of eternity shine around and within us? And are the souls that are gone, thus imprisoned? Are they no more suffered to revisit these scenes of earth? - Even now, even now imagination views their hovering forms. They whisper in the tremblings of this music around us. They call their weary wanderer home. Take me, take me, O God, to thyself.' -Such was the bursting forth of his feelings.

"We now arrived at the mountain valley, where his father had been laid, at the very spot where we now stand. He flung himself upon that green turf, and groaned with agony and bitterness of heart.

"At length commanding his feelings, and as if awaking from a transient delirium, he told me his motive for this visit.

"This,' said he, is a congenial scene. It seems to be the very threshold of another world. I have led you hither for a particular purpose. You have always been interested in my welfare: you will oversee my burial. Lay me here by the side of my father. The clods of the valley will be sweet to me. Here will end my earth, and here will commence my heaven; that heaven, where I shall remember your tender assiduities in life and death; and where, if permitted, I shall strive to recompense you with the love of a brother, a love stronger than death.

"One earthly wish,' he added, 'I have but one earthly wish remaining. When my father came to this country, he left an infant daughter, whom for many years we have supposed to be no more; but this very evening I have received a letter from Palermo, which informs me that my sister is not only alive, a very lovely and accomplished girl, but that she has become affluent by the bequest of her benefactress, and has already embarked for this residence of her father and brother, her only connexions now living. Oh, should I too be summoned away before my sister's arrival, will you, as the friend of her brother, receive her? will you soften the severity of her trial? and should your affectionate heart find in her, as I fondly hope it will, all that it languishes to find in woman, it would be a smile of Providence, and would heighten the bliss even of my spiritual existence.'