now, Zizinè, not now.-Leave me. Leave-leave me, I entreat you."

Ah, have mercy upon yourself: do not bid me.-Shall I play-shall I sing to you?—I cannot live and see you in such distress".

"What!" interrupted he-paling, as from a petrifying trance.

She faltered at the exclamation-well she might.

"You will not go? I'm unfit for converse. I'd be alone.-Release me!-I must away.— Detain me not-Zizine-I desire you."

But, blind to every consequence-only perceiving his phrensy-clasping his wrists, "You must reply," she cried. "Do not I cause your disturbances? I feared as much! Send me any-where, then-I'm prepared!—and care not whither, so it end them-except to Italy.-I believed foolishly I best could comfort you—(ah, do not turn aside!) but they're from myself— myself! God be thanked, I was wrong! I'll stay no longer. Is it Zizinè works you woe, when she'd give half her life-all her life-to make you happy!"

He had tried fruitlessly to interpose. Now, like sleeper not quite recovered from benumbing

visions, he surveyed her-there abased-in the greatness of unmasked grief-grief for him! A savage might have thrust her forth. He raised, to undeceive her. She had a sister's bond, in identity of destitution. He could not chide that spontaneous warmth, or inhibit her wiles for his amusement. But, as they communed together, it stole upon him! Astounded, he ridiculed the fancy-to be re-bewildered by it. Were it so indeed, he would move Europe for her allocation elsewhere. He had not calculated this-he had written himself passionless: but could he count on others?-Yet, presuming its verity, was it deprecable? might not it prove temporary safeguard? it could, in reference to him, be but transient. The presumption's correctness, though, it was material to ascertain. He admonished his judgment-derided his credulity-determined not to be the dupe of his distemperature: that anniversary had unmastered him. Strangely, then, up-sprung anxieties in the heart but-now-denuded of all that solaces, and sore from suffering. She diverted thoughts whose reiterated shocks had left him helpless. Not unsympathised-with! would he have shortened the interview-curtly to rebuff her, was impossible; and he shrank

from the solitariness of his own despond.-Darkness, in fine, overspread the firmament: farther into night than either noted, their discoursings lasted till, from a mist of mightily tumultuous feeling, they emerged into the Glare of Day.

Evelyn's avail was over: the decree fiated for aye.

Yet our inconsistencies! round him who had erewhile bewailed his barrenness of reciprocity, clung one who could reciprocate his weightiest grievance; and he was mute. He would not super-add sorrow to that still-confiding, but how wildlier-throbbing, breast.*

* It should not be overlooked (if but as a curious fact in the History of the Moral World) that the very temperament of Emile that coldness-(which might naturally be supposed a surest safe-guard—) was, itself, the very conductor to the lapse of both reciprocally precluding apprehension -neutralising in him, distrust of his own dispositions, and latently producing hers.

No. 6. The Cemetery of Pierre de Plan.

Ainsi est faite cette bizarre énigme du cœur humain. REY DUSSEUIL.-(I Promessi Sposi, trad.)

Here, Dean Evelyn, at your request-what would you have ?"

"The affection entertained of old for your godfather."

It was the hail of other years! a far music distoned by time and troubles.

"To me, sir, no affections cleave. To what extent mutually concerned, my kind and I are affectionless."

Nay, this will never do!" said Evelyn. "You mistake me for a censor, not a friend-a friend of former date. I would, you were as slightly changed."

"Repute's indifferent to me, sir. I've marked

out my course, and will unswervingly pursue it. Changed? soft phrase! when hundreds hoot me down, a wretch in whom no good exists. Why seek him, sir?"

"Oh, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!'"

exclaimed the senior. "Alas, our parting and our meeting-How fair was your reputation then! how persuasive your demeanor! how tender! how ingenuous

"Sir" said Villiers-"I bear what I've brought-on, and solicit the leniency of none." "Proud misanthrope!" cried Evelyn: "I pictured to myself Society's regenerator."

"From that soil," Emile responded, "the fool, only, dreams of educing a plant of wholesome growth."

"And therefore we taint it amplier? What wonder, if it proscribe whom it designates guilty of pernicious compositions and more pernicious crimes ?"

"Little, surely!" laughed Villiers. "Galileo's dungeon expiated his proclamation of truth: the legators of the doctrine you preach were fagoted at your Smithfield for it: and shall I demur to like recompense, let these 'pernicious composi