man, reprobated the conduct of her parents in forcing her inclinations, and yet he did not deign to allow me a choice; Athalie St. Valorie is worthy to be your wife,' said he to me, and by marrying her you will render both me and yourself happy;' I confess to you that at that moment I was about to own to him the secret which I have hitherto so carefully concealed, but I fortunately checked myself; I say fortunately, for I am well convinced that he never would have forgiven my having dared to unite myself to the daughter of his inveterate enemy. "My boy, the sole tie that now attaches me to life, is well; I have placed him with a good and careful woman, about a mile from my estate in Derbyshire, and as soon as I can escape from this frivolous metropolis, I will go there for a few months; the person with whom he is does not know that he is mine; should he resemble his mother, how will it be possible for me to avoid betraying myself? and I saw that he seemed much agitated. I endeavoured when we met to behave as usual; and absorbed in his own reflections, if there was any difference in his manner, I did not perceive it. From that day I longed to go to England, for I felt an unaccountable degree of curiosity to see that child whom Clairville mentioned as the sole tie that attached him to life; frequently, and with bitterness, did I repeat these words to myself, and I confess that I cherished a dislike to the little innocent whom I could not help regarding as a rival. With these sentiments, you may suppose that my behaviour was not such as to conciliate the regard of Clairville, whose coldness to me became every day more obvious. At the expiration of five weeks we quitted Paris for bis estate in Derbyshire, which he pretended it was absolutely necessary for him to visit, and you may be sure I made no opposition to his doing so. Business obliged his uncle to remain some "My uncle is delighted with my wife, who time in London, but he promised to visit is very fond of and very attentive to him; us as soon as he could. Clairville had reshe is handsome, and rather womanly in her quested me to invite a female friend to spend a person, but her manners are those of a child, few months with me, as he said I would otherand there are times when she absolutely ap-wise, he feared, find the country dull; but pears frightened at me; how different from this I had declined doing, for I had not in the modest dignity, the calm self-posses-fact any friend, except the good sisters of St. sion of my lost Anna. Yes, my friend, Athalie || Teresa, with whom Inow wished most sincerely is" that I had remained. "The most unfortunate of beings," cried I, involuntarily when I had read it." Oh! Clairville, unjust, cruel Clairville, why, with a heart devoted to the memory of another, did you bestow upon me your hand! Ah! better would it have been for me to be entombed alive in a cloister, than be united to a man who regards me not only with indifference, but abborrence!" I had not before been sensible of the hold which Clairville had on my heart, and my love and my pride were equally wounded by the perusal of this letter; I instantly quitted the apartment, as I every moment expected that he would enter, and I could not see him without betraying myself. I stationed myself in a room adjoining, and in a few moments he appeared; he took up the letter which I had left where I found it, Well, my friends, behold me now set down in a country in which I was a total stranger, and with the inhabitants of which I was far from pleased. Clairville exerted himself to amuse me, but he did it in a way that convinced me that the exertion was painful to him; and I was at no loss to guess where he spent those mornings which he told me he devoted to riding about the country. I was all anxiety to learn the name of the person where the child was placed, but I knew not how to gain the intelligence, when chance introduced me to the little creature whom I was so desirous of beholding. Passing one day by a neat cottage, I discovered two children seated at the door, playing with some flowers; one of them looked up, and the first glance convinced me it was Clairville's child; never did I behold so strong a likeness. I stopped, and the child reaching, Ah! Clairville," said I aloud, "of what hapout his little hand with a few flowers, said, piness do you deprive me and yourself; how "I will give you some.”—I pretended weari- blest should I feel in being allowed to act as a and entered the cottage; the mistress mother to this dear child; and surely if I am of which readily consented to my stopping not fortunate enough to resemble your Anna in any other respect, I am at least like her in my fondness for him.” ness, to rest. I noticed both the children, the other, she told me, was her daughter's :~" And this sweet boy," said I.-" Is a nurse child, Madam," replied she; "but poor little thing, I love him as if he was my own." The little fellow was standing at my side, and he now held out his hands, and in a tone of fondness, lisped out, "Take me up; do, pray, take me up." I seated him on my lap, and his nurse observed, that there were few people whom he would go to, for that he was very shy of strangers. I cannot describe to you the effect which his caresses produced upon me; I returned them with interest and a few minutes made a com plete revolution in my sentiments towards him. I had been taught English in the convent, and I spoke it well, I was therefore under no apprehension of Clairville discovering that I visited the cottage, provided that I could manage matters so as to call at those times when I knew he would be engaged. After bestowing a thousand caresses on my new acquaintance, who, I found was named after his father, George, I took my leave of him and returned home. An unexpected source of pleasure was now opened to me, and for nearly a month I saw my little favourite two or three times a week: the child grew astonishingly fond of me, and the only happy moments I enjoyed were those I passed with him. On the day that I had been three months married, Clairville dined at some little distance, and as I thought that he would not be home till a late hour, I paid a visit to George; his nurse was going out when I entered, she would have remained, but I told her she need not, as I should stop for some time; she promised to return soon, and George and I were left tête-a-tête. In a little while he fell asleep in my arms and never surely was there a lovelier model for a sleeping Cupid; my spirits were low, and I gazed upon him; I burst into tears. A slight movement made me raise my eyes, and Clairville, darting from a door which led from the cottage to the garden, was in au instant at my feet. 5 Athalie, dear amiable Athalie," cried he, "I have been most unjust, will you-can you forgive me?” I will not tell you, my friends, what was my reply, for in truth I do not know; the bustle awaked George, who perceiving me in tears, threw his little arms round my neck, and finding that he could not console, began to weep with me. But how different were those tears to what I had before shed.—“ I do not ask,” cried I, "Dearest Athalie," cried he, " There was no need of words to assure him of my forgiveness, and an explanation now ensued. He had been almost from his infancy attached to his Anna, who was, unfortunately, the daughter of a man that had offended his uncle past forgiveness, the young couple, therefore, had no hope of his consent, and they were privately married; and in less than ten months afterwards Anna expired in giving birth to George. When Monsieur Clairville wrote to his nephew, he did not relate the purpose for which he wished to see him in Paris, or George would most probably have evaded a compliance with his wishes; but taken as he was, by surprise, he consented; the remainder you know. I acknowledged having seen the letter, and it was with difficulty I could stop his self accusation for having written it. We left the cottage of the nurse together, and both much happier than we had been for some time. "And now," said I," there is but one thing wanting to render our felicity complete, and that is your uncle's forgivenness of your former marriage, for we must have our child home." "In that," replied he, "we must trust to time, since at present nothing can be done i it; but George is now only two years old, and we must have patience; when we go to London I will consent to your disclosing the affair to him." I had not, however, an opportunity of doing so, for death soon after deprived us of the good Monsieur Clairville; his nephew and myself sincerely regretted him, and I may say hat his death was the only interruption our felicity ever experienced: we directly made the birth of George public, and I can truly declare that when it pleased Heaven to bless me with children, my own babes were not dearer to me than he was. THE GOLDSMITH OF PADUA. IN the end of the fifteenth century, when If evening. A coach of one of the nobles passed the cities of Italy were rendered rich by their trade to the Indies, Padua was one of the most flourishing of its towns, and possessed a body of merchants, and particularly goldsmiths, || jewellers, and dealers in silk, with whom Venice itself could scarcely bear a comparison Amongst these goldsmiths and jewellers there was one more eminent than his brethren. His dwelling was upon the bridge, and Padua was scarcely more universally known in Italy than Jeronimo Vincente was known for one of its citizens. "It never rains but it pours," says a northern proverb; "riches beget riches," says an Italian one. Jeronimo found the truth of both of these sayings. He was already rich enough to satisfy a dozen merchants, and to make a score of German Princes. Fortune, however, did not yet think that she had done enough for || him; every day some traveller was arriving at Padua, iu the exchange of whose foreign money for the coin of Padua, he obtained some good bargain, and added to his overflowing coffers. Few died without relatives but that he was appointed their executor. Many paid tribute to his wealth and reputatiou by leaving him their heir. The city of Padua gave him all their public contracts; and he almost sunk under the weight of trusts, offices, &c. not merely offered, but obtruded and imposed on him. at the same moment; no one noticed it. On the other hand, every one who passed him saluted him "Such have been the effects of my industry, my dexterity of business, and my assiduous application. Yes, Jeronimo, others have to thank their ancestors; you have to thank only yourself. It is all your own merit." And with these reflections his stature, as it were, increased some inches higher, and assuming a peculiar port, and a self-satisfied step, he walked in vanity, and almost in defiance of every thing and every one, to his house. He fell asleep in the same mood, and dreamt that the ancient fable of Jupiter was repeated in his house, and that the heavens opened, and descended upon him in a shower of ducats and pistoles.. In all this soliloquy of Jeronimo, as the reader will observe, there was not a word or thought of any one but himself; he did not attribute his plenty to the blessing of God; he felt no gratitude to him who had showered down upon his abundance; his mind, his spirit, and his vanity, were that of Nebuchadnezzor; and the fate of Nebuchadnezzor was nearer to him than he imagined. It is part of the wise economy of Providence to vindicate the honour and duty which belong to him; it is a part of his mercy to humble those who in forgetting him are about to lose themselves. He sends them prosperity as a blessing; they abuse it, and convert it to a curse. He recalls the abused gift, and sends them Who could be more happy than Jeronimo Vincente? So he thought himself as he walked on the bridge of Padua one beautiful summer's || adversity to bring them to their duty. Such was the course of divine government in the early ages of the world, such it is to the present day, and such did Jeronimo find it much sooner than he expected. has been before said, of being the most able workman in Padua, in gold, silver, and lace, "And surely," said the gossips of Padua," he does not wear his talent in a napkin. He employs his dexterity to some purpose.”—“ Are you not speaking too fast," said another neighbour; "I have always held Jeronimo to be an honest man."-"And so have I hitherto," said the other. "But do you sce On a sudden, without any apparent cause, he saw, to his astonishment, the universal respect to his wealth and reputation on a manifest decrease. Some who had before nearly kissed the ground on his presence, now looked erectly in his face, and kept their straight forward course, without giving him the honour-is."-So I thought," said the other, "till I able side of the path; others kept their bonnets as if they were nailed to their heads; two or three recalled their trusts; others hap. pening to call for accounts of such trusts, when he was not at home or busy, spoke in a peremptory tone, dropt hints of the laws of the country, and the duty of guardians. In plain words, he gradually discovered himself to be as much avoided as he had heretofore been sought. No one was punctual in their attendance but those to whom he paid their weekly or monthly pensions. If there could be any doubt that something extraordinary had happened, Jeronimo had at length suffi cient proof; for having put himself in nomination for one of the offices of parochial intendant, and of the Great Church and Treasury of Padua; a competitor was preferred less wealthy than himself by some thousands. Jeronimo returned home much confounded at this unexpected defeat. In vain he examined himself and his situation for the cause. "Am I not as rich as ever?" said he, "Have I defrauded any one?-No. Have I suffered any one to demaud their payment of me twice?-No. What then can be the cause of all this?" This was a question he could not answer, but the fact became daily and hourly so much more evident, that he shortly found himself as much avoided, and appa. rently condemned in every respectable company, as he had formerly been courted and honoured. It is time, however, to give the reader some information as to the actual cause. A whisper was suddenly circulated that Jeronimo had not acquired his wealth by honest means. It was reported, and gradually universally believed, that he was an utterer, if not a coiner of base money. He had the reputation, this ducat?"-"Yes; and a very good one it had essayed it: this ducat I received from Jeronimo; let us prove it at your assay, and you will allow that I do not speak without some good foundation." The proposal was accepted, the trial made, and the ducat found to be base in the proportion of one-third copper to two-thirds silver. The name of this neighbour of Jeronimo, who had defended him, was Giuseppe Cognigero, a very worthy and honest man; not one of those who find a triumph in the downfal of another, though above them in wealth and honour. Giuseppe, as he had said, had always held Jeronimo to be a respectable worthy citizen. He had many dealings with him, and had always found him just and punctual tothe lowest coin. "Is it possible," said he to himself, "that after such a long course of bonesty and reputation, he has so far forgotten himself as to become a common cheat? I will not believe it. But this fact of the base ducat. Well; but my friend may be mistaken; he might not have received this ducat from Jeronimo. I am resolved I will make a trial of him myself, before I give into the belief of these reports in the teeth of so fair a character, for so many years. Giuseppe was a shrewd man, and never fixed on a purpose but when he had the ingenuity to find the means of executing it. He went immediately to his home, and taking an hundred ducats from his private store, went with them to the house of Jeronimo"Signor Jeronimo," said he, "here are a hundred ducats which I wish to keep sacred for a certain purpose. I have just embarked in a speculation of great extent, the result of which no one can forsee. I wish to keep this sum as a deposit, in the event of the failure of my hopes. If you will do me the favour to take the custody of it."-Jeronimo, pleased at a confidence to which he was now not much accustomed, very willingly accepted the charge, and Giuseppe took his leave in the full persuasion that the trial would correspond with bis expectations, and that r port would be proved to be false and malicious.. In the course of a few days, Giuseppe, according to the plan concerted in his own mind, called suddenly on Jeronimo.—“ My dear friend," said he, "I sincerely rejoice that I have found you at home; a sudden demand has fallen upon me, and I have an un xpect ed occasion for the hundred ducats which 1 deposited with you."-" My good friend," said Jeronimo, "do not preface such a trifle with such a serious apology. The money is yours." And at the same time opening a private drawer:-"You see here it is, just as I deposited it. Take your money, my friend, and you may always have the same or any other service from me." Saying this, he gave Giuseppe the same bag in which he had brought the ducats to him. Giuseppe hastened home, counted and examined the ducats. Their number was right, their appearance seemed good; he sounded them singly. One sounded suspici ously, he assayed it, it was base.—“ Well”, said he," this may be an accident; I could almost swear, indeed, that every ducat I gave him was good; but this I might perhaps have overlooked." He sounded another, his suspicions increased; another-he was now determined to assay them all. He did so; and to his confusion (for the honest man was truly griev ed and confounded at this detection of his neighbour's honesty), he found thirty bad ducats out of the hundred. He now hastened to Jeronimo.-"These are not the ducats, Sir, I deposited with you; here are thirty bad ducats out of the hun drsd."-"Bad er good," replied Jeronimo, indignautly, "they are the same which you deposited; I took them from your hands, put them into the drawer, and they were not moved from thence till you re-demauded them." Giuseppe insisted, and at length severely reproached Jeronimo. Jeronimo commanded him to leave his bouse. "Can you suspect me of such a pitiful fraud," said he. "Indeed, I never should," replied he, 66 00less upon this absolute evidence. But there must be a fraud somewhere. Either I am at tempting to defraud you, or you to cheat me. It is incumbent upon both our reputations that this matter should be cleared up. I shall go to the magistrates.”—“Go where you please," said Jeronimo; "bat go without |delay." Giuseppe immediately hastened to the President of Justice. He demanded a summons for Jeronimo. It was granted. He complained, without reciting the particulars, that Jeronimo had paid him back a deposit, and in au hundred ducats, had given him thirty had. Jeronimo denied it -"I gave him back the same which he deposited with me.” There was a law at Padua termed the "law of wager." The substance of this was, that the party accused had it in his option to clear himself by an oath of his innocence. "Will you take your wager?" said Giu seppe. "Yes," replied Jeronimo. The holy Evangelists were accordingly presented to him, and Jeronimo swore upon them that he had not touched, still less changed the ducats, since they were deposited with him. The President accordingly gave judgment in his favour, being compelled thereto by the laws of Padua. And Giuseppe, with horror at the united fraud and perjury of the man whom he had hitherto deemed honest and respectable, left the court and withdrew to his own bouse. This trial excited a universal interest and rumour in Padua. The President of the law had acquitted Jeronimo; not so, however, public reputation. Giuseppe was a man of established character, Jeronimo's fame had been long blemished. The previous reports, therefore, were now considered as fully confirmed into certainty. The magistrates accordingly deemed it necessary to point the attention of the police to him and to his future dealings; and Jeroninio thereafter became a marked character. The police of Padua was administered with that discreet cunning for which the Italians are celebrated. Some of its officers very |