while life remained. If he loved glory, and ardently pursued it, it was to become more worthy of you: he sacrificed life in the pursuit, and his last words to me were, 'When you go to England, -no matter when,find out Louisa Ormond. I would fain she should one day know, that it was for her Edmund Lyttelton lived and died! Here are two memorials of her, which it was sweet to me to steal in secret as her lover, because I feared she would have given them but too readily to her cousin, a lock of her dark-brown hair, and the unfinished she was netting the night I left home. purse is an emblem of my own brief, incomplete career. haps she may live to finish it yet, for Edmund's sake, and we may meet at length where all is perfect and as it should be!'

It

Per

"Soft, quiet tears began to glide down Miss Ormond's pale cheek; and I said, 'I do not wonder you should be moved at such an affecting proof of constancy in one so young.'-' Constancy!' repeated she after me, as if it were a word of whose meaning she was doubtful, or had never heard, Poor Edmund! there are few like him.'

"I began to feel that the scene had gone quite far enough, and to long for a diversion. It was opportunely afforded by the entrance of some of the children; and I hurried away, promising to repeat my visit ere long.

"An invitation from the kind Mr. O., anticipated my intentions. We suited each other; and I became an

almost daily guest. Louisa Ormond, whose temporary

agitation soon subsided into her wonted sweet serenity, behaved to me with an engaging frankness that quite won my heart, and talked to me so amiably of her lost cousin, that I soon ceased to wonder at his boyish adoration. I was past the age of romance; but not beyond the sphere of its widely-spreading influence, and not Edmund himself, in the devotion of eighteen, could soon have outdone his veteran comrade in arms, in his admiration of Louisa Ormond.

"Women in India,-idols as they are often made,— have a sort of artificial existence, which always acted on me as a repellant. Condemned by the climate to much of the inaction of eastern Sultanas, they often seem to emulate their listless inanity. They do not lend, as in England, a charm and a grace to a thousand little domestic duties; nor are there in a monotonous country, and burning climate, external objects to draw forth the sympathies of a cultivated mind. When I roamed with Louisa Ormond to the tomb of Virgil, or the villa of Cicero, I had but to look in her face to see the moral spirit of the scene; its natural beauty reflected both these, and I felt as if I had for the first time, an adequate notion of what a woman might or should be.

All saw

"I was soon a lover, and a doting one. it save Louisa, and all saw it with seeming satisfaction. That of Owenson was open and undisguised, like all his sentiments; but when, at length, I burst the bonds of reserve so natural to a lover of six-and-thirty, and asked

him, with faltering voice, and downcast eyes, what hope he could honestly give me of success, he shook his head, and said, Merton! I wish I could flatter; but it is not my way, and truth is kindness.-Louisa Ormond will never love again. Her heart has been crushed and blighted irrecoverably, by the infamous conduct of a villain, but she has affections left, as I and mine can testify, richly worth cultivating; and with time and perseverance, I doubt not her esteem and hand may be yours. If this will content you, my best efforts shall be used to promote your views; but if you insist on more, I advise you to leave Naples without delay. Names and particulars I have solemnly promised never to divulge; indeed, why should I, when all has long since been irrevocably at an end, and the destroyer of her peace married to another?-Suffice it, that Louisa was engaged to one, base enough to desert her when, from an opulent heiress, she became the orphan of a ruined man!-She is too meek to hate-she despises and forgives him, but she does not forget! There are things in life not to be forgotten,— and a five years' betrothment to one of the most fascinating of men, even ingratitude and infamy cannot cancel like a dream. But my wife and myself have always said, there might be a balm even for such wounds, in a rational, well-placed attachment; and with you, even we hope Louisa may yet be happy. Give her time-allow for natural repugnance to revive bitter recollections-and all, I trust, will yet be well.'

Y

"I shrink from inflicting on myself the torture of describing how all this gradually took place. Why should I?—I am not the first who has mistaken gratitude for affection, and the torpor of death for the wholesome slumbers of returning health. Louisa, first shocked, then softened by my importunities, slowly gave way before the sincerity of my affection, the silent participation of her friends, and the forgotten luxury of being understood, appreciated, and idolized. It was amid the delicious exuberance of an Italian spring, that my blossoms of hope slowly expanded; and having lingered at Naples till the heats of summer surprised us, we agreed to pass the sultry season at Sorrentum, and return early in autumn to England, where the claims of relations, and professional business, imperiously demanded my presence.

"I would fain have persuaded Louisa to be mine in Italy, to let the sunny region which had witnessed our first strange meeting, be the scene of our blissful union; but I urged in vain; and with something of superstitious horror she always answered, I cannot be married in Italy.' Her friends, like myself, regretted this; as, like me, they had misgivings about her return to England, which they could have wished her to revisit under happier auspices, and a husband's protection; but her reluctance was so deep and unfeigned, that it was impossible not to give way.

"The convenience of transporting the very large fa

mily of Mr. O., and the delicacy of Louisa's health,to whom the confinement of a carriage was peculiarly distressing,-induced us to resolve on proceeding to England by sea. A large English merchantman was about to sail from Naples, which proved an additional temptation, and we all embarked under the most favourable auspices. The season, however, was somewhat advanced, and the tempests of the Mediterranean are as sudden as violent. One overtook us ere we could clear

the Italian coast; and after some days of imminent peril, the captain was thankful to find shelter (though far out of his destined course) in the bay of Genoa. My alarm during the storm had been cruelly embittered by the idea of perishing without having received the hand of Louisa, and I flattered myself she too,-though serene amidst tempest as at all other times,-would have clung to me yet more confidingly had our mutual vows been exchanged. At last, I guessed it was so; for when, on a trifling delay seeming likely to occur at Genoa, for repairs to the ship, I again urged our landing, and being married (should there be an English clergyman in that city), she ceased to oppose; but with a look of mild resignation, which has haunted me ever since, said, 'It is of no use to struggle, since it is to be.'

"We went ashore the moment the subsiding waves permitted; and almost thought Naples eclipsed by the less extolled magnificence of the site of Genoa la Superba. To me it was all one bright enchanted palace! for there