His father was a merchant who made a handsome competency during some years of trading at Leghorn. Resolving to enjoy the remainder of his life in ease and retirement, he purchased this villa, and came to reside in it with his family, composed of his wife, a son (our Paul), and a daughter, Clara.

Paul was at that time twelve, and his sister ten years of age, and for several months there was not a happier little circle in the world than the Blakes.

Last summer, however, the pretty fair-haired Clara began to show symptoms of delicate health. The doctors advised change of air. And as Mrs. Blake had a sister married to a gentleman farmer in England, it was resolved that the little girl, accompanied by her mother, should take a journey to the old country, and try to recover her strength by some months' residence among green fields, and cooler breezes than she had been lately accustomed to.

Mr. Blake, from some cause, was unable to accompany his wife and daughter, so Paul and his father remained here at the villa.

Their separation had not been longer than three months, when Mrs. Blake received an urgent message from her husband to return home.

She did so, leaving her daughter behind; and on reaching the villa, found her husband confined to his bed with an attack of disease which seemed to defy all the efforts of the medical men to cure. He lingered some time in great pain, and on Christmasday closed his eyes upon the world, which offered him, apparently, nothing but enjoyment.

The grief of Mrs. Blake at so terrible and unex

EARLY MISFORTUNES.

5

pected a loss was more than her system could bear. Never very strong, the shock quite overcame her. Like a flower, the stalk of which is broken, she withered gradually away, and before six weeks had seen the stone placed upon her husband's grave, she too had departed. Paul in Italy, and Clara in England, were thus early made orphans, and taught some of the greatest griefs with which we are afflicted upon earth.

This, my young friends, is the actual position of the owner of this fine property. He is not yet fifteen. He is rich, tolerably handsome, well-made, strong, active, and good-tempered. He has a horse to ride on, all sorts of delightful books to read, English, French, and Italian-for like most English youths brought up in Italy, he is a good linguist; he has this delicious place to roam about in, and is just now entirely free to come and go. But can he be happy?

We are much mistaken in the character of Paul Blake, if he would not sacrifice all these advantages to get back the parents he loved so well. We do not think we are far wrong in saying that he has often and often exclaimed :—

"Dear, dear parents, to have you back again, to love me as you used to love me, I would willingly give up all that you have left me upon earth. I would rather be the poor boy in the cottage yonder, who has to labour for his daily bread, if you only were spared to me, than be as I am, surrounded by every luxury."

But Paul, nevertheless, does not spend his time

in vain regrets. He has been taught by that tender mother, whose words he can no longer hear, that we must not blindly abandon ourselves to grief even if the objects we have lost are the most dearly prized. He has been instructed to bear all misfortunes with courage, and to bow to the will of God where no human power is able to avert some terrible calamity. He has been tutored to look on duty as the first consideration. And therefore,

while revering the memory of his father, whom he had alike respected and loved, and while doting on that of his mother, for whom he had entertained the warmest, fondest affection, he does not let his grief for their loss make him forget his own position, or that dear, absent sister, whom he must, if possible, love even dearer than before, and towards whom, young as he is, he already begins to feel as a protector.

He is about shortly to join Clara in England. By his father's Will, Squire Dean, his uncle, with whom his sister is residing, has been appointed guardian to them both. A gentleman at Leghorn has undertaken to dispose of the villa and grounds for the benefit of the orphans, and will ship Paul on board a vessel bound for London. He is expected here within the next few days, and Paul will soon have to bid adieu to this lovely garden, to this beautiful prospect, to this balmy air, and deep blue southern sky. He will leave them, he says, without regret, for they recall too painfully the memory of the dear ones who used to make them doubly attractive by their presence.

DESCRIPTION OF PAUL.

7

Some one is

A tall youth,

But hark! there is a footstep. coming down the walk towards us. with brown curling hair, a bright hazel eye, somewhat saddened in its expression, a firm step and decided manner. We scarcely need tell you his name, for you have already guessed it. To do away, however, with all doubt, let us introduce you. Readers, our friend, Paul Blake.

CHAPTER II.

Preparations for departure-The city of Fiesole-A farewell visit-The two friends-Mutual regrets.

Two days yet remained to Paul to make his preparations for final departure from the villa and take leave of his friends. The first of these duties was very soon over. He had but to put up a few books with his clothes, for the rest of the things which were not intended to be sold, were to be packed in cases and sent on to England after him.

Bidding adieu to those about him was a longer and more painful task. He was acquainted with the occupants of at least a dozen villas scattered above and below his own, and he was riding or walking to or from one or other of them all day.

He was such a universal favourite, and all felt such sympathy for him in his lonely state, that he might have prolonged his visits of a few hours' duration, into weeks and months, had he felt disposed, and if the arrangements made for him had not prevented; but as it was, he kindly bade them all "Good-bye," promised to write to several, renewed former vows of eternal friendship with a good many, and came home tired, worn out, and sad, to his solitary chamber at the villa.