who ftill adhered to the Jewish religion. V. his brother; of his.other brothers; The voyages which the boy made with of his fifters; and of all thofe who had this Jew gave him an opportunity of had any concern in his education. As learning all the languages of Europe. the real duke of York was killed in the Going one day with his relation to carry Tower by the order of Richard III. who fome curiofities to the duchefs of Bur- had ufurped the crown of Edward V. gundy, the was charmed with the beauty the framed a flory to prove his escape, of his perfon, and the vivacity of his un- and practifed Perkin in repeating it; derftanding; fhe kept him fome time with which he did in fo natural and affecting her; and her affection for him increased a manner, as to impofe on all who heard to fuch a degree, that fhe was defirous him. This importor, among many of putting a crown upon his head. The other talents, poffeffed that of diffimufituation of affairs in England at that lation to perfection, and could sustain a time appeared favourable to her withes, falfity with refolution. It was not long and that was the throne fhe chofe for before he was qualified agreeably to the her lover. Though Henry VII. earl of duchefs's wifhes: he then commenced Richmond, being heir by the mother's his journey, in order to fow the feeds of fide to the houfe of Lancafter, and this impoiture. He firft went to Portuhusband of the heirefs of that of York, gal; but did not tarry long there, as he had united in his perfon the right of perceived that no perfon gave car to his both houfes, yet the flattered herfelf tale: from thence he paffed over to Irethat the English, ever fond of novelty, land, where he met with fo many dupes, would fall into the fhare the was about that he was honoured and attended as to spread for them. In this hope, the re- the duke of York: the rumour of his adfolved that Perkin fhould pais for the venture foon spread to France. duke of York, brother of Edward V. This happened at the time when Taking him into a private place, fhe Charles VIII. king of France, was thus fpoke to him: "Perkin, I would about to efpoufe princefs Anne, heiress willingly make your fortune equal to of the dutchy of Britany; and England, your talents, which are much fuperior to prevent this alliance as prejudicial to to your birth. Hearken to my advice; her intereft, had raised a confiderable follow it; and you will be fure of fuc- armament. The duchefs of Burgundy ceeding." was too artful not to take advantage of a not the dupe of her cunning, he profited by it, and invited Perkin to his court; where he was received as although he had really been the duke of York." Many English noblemen went to France to pay their compliments to him whom they believed in good earneft to be the duke of York, and to offer him their fervices. Perkin was born for adventures; he conjuncture fo favourable to her defigns; had all the boldness requifite for enter- and therefore fent a perfon to the court prize, and feared no risks. He thanked of France, to infinuate to the king and the duchefs for having caft her eyes on his minifters that it would be to their him for the execution of fo fine a pro- intereft to fupport the pretenfions of the ject, and promifed to follow the coun- duke of York. Though Charles was fels fhe thould be fo good as to give him. She difcovered to him more circumftantially the defign the had formed of making him pafs for the duke of York, and of putting him in a way to wreit the Crown from Henry VII. She then perfectly inftructed him what artifices he was to ufe in order to deceive the public as to his birth. She directed him at first to speak of himself as an unfortunate prince, but whofe great efs of foul would not fuffer him to fhrink under the weight of his misfortunes. She then informed him of every circumftance refpecting the duke of York; the figure, face, features, and fhape, of Edward IV. his father; of the queen; of Edward Perkin, relying on the promises made to him in France, thought he had attained the accomplishment of his withes; but he afterwards perceived that that politic court only honoured him in order foon to facrifice him, like the victims which the Pagans decorate when they lead them to be facrificed. Henry VII. finding himself in fuch a fituation, that it was neither fafe for him, nor advantageous for his kingdom to enter into a war with France, refolved to fuffer them to take Britany rather than expofe, himself to the lofs of his crown, or 40 fuffer the civil war, which was already, kindled in England, to encreafe. Thefe confiderations induced him to propofe an accommodation to Charles, who was too politic to refufe facrificing. an impoftor to an advantageous peace. Henry was defirous of having Perkin delivered up to him, but he could not obtain his requeft, By his means France could ftop any attempts which the English might make on them; therefore they were too prudent to furrender him; and only obliged him to feek an afylum elsewhere. He retired to the duchefs of Burgundy, and implored her protection for one of the blood of York, as though he had never feen her before. The duchefs on her part affected not to know him, examined him publickly, and appeared to diftruft him with fo good a grace, that) every perfon prefent was perfuaded of his veracity, as the feemed to be fo. She embraced Perkin, crying out at the fame time that heaven was the preferver of the illuftrious defcendant of the Yorks. This news foon reached England, and thofe of his partifans whom the peace which Henry had made with France had difconcerted, began. to take courage. Malice, ambition, ferocity, and inconftancy, encreafed his party; who began to murmur against the king and the govern ment. Henry, who was an able politi cian, being fenfible, that feverity on thefe occafions was dangerous, took care not to put it ia practice; but he purfued a method to make the Englith, blufh for their blind credulity. He fent perfons in whom he could placeconfidence to collect the most authenuc informations, concerning the birth, life, and adventures of Perkin; and caufed thefe informations to be conveyed in the letters of perfons in his intereft, in different countries, to, thofe of their acquaintance in England; by which means he fucceeded fo far as to detach feveral noblemen of diftinction from the impoftor's intereft. Petrekin being informed that his party was daily diminitning, refolved that it fhould not be wholly extinguished. The duchefs of Burgundy furnished him with troops and tips, with which he failed to England, where meeting with a repulfe, he took refuge in Scotland, whofe king was then at variance with Henry; where he met with a very kind reception, and the king of Scotland gave him one of his near relations in marriage He put him at the head of an army, with which the impoftor marched into Northumberland, where feveral of the English joined him: but Henry, who was extremely active, appeared with a numerous army to oppofe him; which threw Perkin into fuch a terror that he efcaped and fought for afylum in a church, leaving his troops to take care of themselves. The king, unwilling to in flame the minds of the people by too great feverity, punished the principal officers, and pardoned the reft. He then went in queft of Perkin; and to induce him to quit his afylum, promised to fpare his life. Perkin accepted his offer; and was committed prifoner to the tower of London; where the king caufed him to be hanged, on being informed that he had a defign of effecting his escape, and heading his party. HA APPENING in the month of July 1788 to be at Ferney, which ever fince the death of Voltaire has resembled one of thofe deferted caftles which were formerly inhabited by Genii, I refolved to pay a visit to the famous Glaciers of Savoy. A friend, an inhabitant of Geneva, had the goodness to accompany me. It is not my intention to defcribe our journey in order to fuit the pre fent taite, it would be neceffary that I fhould adopt that tyle, exalted, sublinic, unintelligible to the profane, which a fentimental Traveller, after he was advanced two leagues on his journey, cannot poffibly do without: Imuft fpeak of nothing but my feelings, my fufcepti : bilities, cape, however brilliant its colours, could do without figures. You fang the thady woods, the verdant fields, the limpid ftreams; but fhepherds and rural twains were never wanting to incul- ' cate leffous of love, of piety, or of beneficence. Reading you, the pleased eye runs over the landfcape which you have defcribed; and the mind, ftill more delighted, is ameliorated by ufeful precepts, and enjoys a delicious calm. Such were the ideas that employed my mind while defcending from Montanverd on my return from the frozen fea. After two hours of a painful bilities, and my extatic fenfations; but I must confefs that thofe phrafes, although now fo common, ftill found ftrange to my ears. I have feen Mont Blanc, the frozen fea, and the fource of the Averon. I long contemplated in filence thofe dreadful rocks, covered with hoar froft; thofe points of ice which pierce the clouds; that large river, which is called a fea, arrefted in the midst of its courfe, whofe folid billows appear as if ftill in agitation; that im menfe vault formed by the accumulated fnows of fo many ages, from whence there iffues a foaming torrent, forcing in its courfe huge blocks of ice over the rocky precipices. The whole fcene journey, I arrived at the fountain where impreffed on my mind a mingled fenfation of terror and melancholy methought I beheld the horrid fcene of nature without a fun, abandoned to the fury of the God of Tempefts. Whilft contemplating thefe pleafing horrors, I gave thanks to the Eternal Creator of all things for having rendered them fo uncommon; and I longed for the moment of my departure, that I might return to the valley, the beautiful valley I was pleafed with the of Maglan. There did I expect to good Paccard's account of thofe fimple confole my faddened eyes, in travelling manners about which it is fo pleafing to flowly through a beautiful country; in converfe were it only to regret them, contemplating on the banks of the Arva when a beautiful girl came and offered thofe rich carpets of verdure, thofe me a basket of cherries. I took them tranquil woods, thofe enamelled mead- and paid her for them. As foon as the ows, thofe cottages, thofe fcattered houfes, was gone, Paccard faid to me, laughing, in which my imagination pictured an "About ten years ago, in the very spot old man furrounded by his family, a where we now are, it coft one of our mother fuckling her child, or two young peasants very dear for coming to young lovers returning from the altar. offer a basket of fruit to a traveller." Such are the views moft agreeable to I begged of Paccard to relate the ftory. my eyes: thefe are the fcenes which af" It is fomewhat long," faid hé; “I fect my heart-which give rife to pleaf ing recollections, and to agreeable defires. Oh my good friend Gefner, you thought, indeed, as I do; you who, born in the most varied, the most pic tutefque country in the world, the belt calculated to furnith you with defeription infinitely varied, you never, like fo many others, abufed the art of defsription, nor ever thought that a landf N O TE. I had refted in the morning. There I again wifhed to repofe myself; for though I am no admirer of torrents, I am very fond of fountains; besides, I was extremely fatigued. I entreated my brave and honeft guide, Francis Paccard, to fit down by me, and we began an excellent converfation concerning the manners, the character, and the mode of living, of the inhabitants of Chamouny. have learned the moft minute circumftances of it from the Curate of Salenches, who himfelf bore a confiderable part in it." I preffed Paccard to relais to me what he had heard from the Curate of Salenches; and being both feated on the ground, leaning our backs against two afh-trees, and eating our cherries, Paccard thus began his tale : "You must know, Sir, that our valley of Chamouny, ten years ago, was not fo celebrated as it is now-a-days. Travellers did not then come to give us their gold for the fake of looking at frozen fnow and picking up our peb bles bles. We were poor, ignorant of evil, and our wives and daughters, employed in the cares of the family, were ftill more ignorant than ourfelves. I mention this that you may have fome charity for the fault of Claudine. The poor child was fo fimple that it was an eafy matter to deceive her. "Claudine was the daughter of Old Simon, a labourer at Prieure. This Simon, whom I knew well, for he has only been dead two years, was the Syndic of our parish. All the country refpected him for his probity; but his character was naturally fevere: he pardoned nothing to himself, and very little to others: he was equally efteemed and feared. If any of our neighbours had quarrelled with his wife, or drank a glafs too much on a holiday, he would not have dared to fpeak to Simon the whole week. When he paffed, even the children ftopped their noife; they took off their hats, and never returned to their amusements till M. Simon was at a distance. "Simon had remained a widower fince the death of Madelene his wife, who had left him two daughters. Nanette, the eldeft, was well enough; but Claudine, the youngeft, was an angel of beauty. Her handfome round countenance-her black eyes full of animation-her thick eye-brows-her little mouth, the very picture of that cherryher appearance of innocence and gaiety, made all the young men of our village her admirers; and when on a Sunday the joined the dance, with a veft of blue cloth clofely fitted to her fine fhape, her ftraw hat ornamented with ribbons, and her little cap, which could hardly contain her beautiful hair, it was a fubject of contention who fhould have the honour to dance with Claudine. "Claudine was only fourteen; her fifter Nanette was nineteen, and commonly remained at home to look after the affairs of the family. Claudine, as being the youngeft, took care of the flock which grazed on Montanverd. She carried with her her dinner and her diftaff, and paffed the day in finging, in fpinning, or chatting with the other fhepherdeffes. In the evening fhe came home to Simon, who read fome portion them of the Bible to his daughters, gave his bleffing, and then all the family went to bed. "About that time ftrangers began to vifit our Glaciers. A young Englishman of the name of Belton, the fon of a rich merchant of London, in paffing through Geneva to go to Italy, had the curiofity to make the tour of Chamouny. He ftopped at Madame de Courteran's, and the next day, at four o'clock in the morning, he afcended Montanverd to fee the frozen fea, conducted by my brother Michael, who is now deacon of the guides. He returned about eleven, and refted himfelf as we do by the fide of this fountain, when Claudine, who tended her theep juft by, feeing him ve ry much heated, came to offer the frut and milk the had for her dinner. The Englishman thanked her, looked at her very attentively, and offered her five or fix guineas, which Claudine refufed; but poor Claudine did not refufe to take Mr. Belton to fee her flock, which the had left among thefe lofty trees. He defired the guide to wait for him, and departed with Claudine. He was abfent for two long hours. As to the fubject of their converfation, I cannot indeed repeat it to you, as nobody heard it. It is fufficient to know that Mr Belton fet out the fame evening, and that Claudine, on her return home to her father, appeared penfive and melancholy, and had on her finger a beautiful emerald which the Eng. lifhman had given her. Her fifter afed her where the got that ring: Claudine anfwered that the had found it. Simon, with a difcontented air, took the ring and carried it to Madame de Courteran, in order to discover the perfon who had loft it. No traveller ever claimed it, Mr. Belton was already far off, and Claudine, to whom the emerald was returned, became every day more melancholy. Five or fix months thus paffed away. Claudine, who every evening returned with reddened eyes, at length refolved to confide in her fifter Nanette. She confeffed that the day' fhe met Mr. Belton on Montanverd, Mr. Belton had told her that he was in love with her-that he meant to fettle at Chamouny never more to leave it, and to marry marry her. "I believed it," added compaffionate to others, might, at the laft day, expect to find mercy from the Father of All. All this was faid in a much better manner than I can tell it you; but you may eafily conceive that our curate endeavoured to prepare the old man for the reception of his bad news. He was long of comprehending him-at laft he did, and ftarting up, pale, and trembling with rage, he feized the mufket with which he ufed to hunt the chamois, and was rufhing forth to kill his daughter. The curate threw himself upon him, and difarmed him; and by roufing his attention to the duties of a chriftian, by lamenting his misfortunes, and fharing in his grief, he at length prevailed fo far, that old Simon, whose eyes had been hitherto dry, his lips pale, and his whole frame convulfed, funk back into his chair, covered his face with his two hands, and burst into tears. "Nanette, who was juft married, preffed poor Claudine with queftions. At length, after many tears, the learned that the Englishman had bafely betrayed this fimple and unhappy girl, and that Claudine was with child. "What was to be done? How was it poffible to announce this misfortune to the terrible M. Simon? To conceal it from him was impoflible. The good Nanette did not augment the defpair of her fifter by ufelefs reproaches: fhe even endeavoured to confole her, by exprefsing hopes of a pardon which the knew would not be obtained. After long confideration Nanette, with her confent, went to find our good curate, and confided to him the whole fecret-begged of him to mention it to her father-to endeavour to appeafe his wrath, and try to fave the honour, or at leaft the life, of the unhappy victim of deceit. Our curate was much hurt at the news; he, however, undertook the talk,and repaired to the houfe of Simon at the time when he was fure Claudine would be upon Montanverd. "The curate allowed him to weep for fome time without faying a word; at length he wifhed to confult with him relative to the measures it was-neceffary to take, in order to fave the honour of Claudine;-but Simon interrupted him. "Mafter curate," faid he," it is impoffible to fave that which is loft; every means that we could take would render us more culpable, by obliging us to tell lies. The unhappy wretch muft no longer remain here;fhe would be thescan- dal of us all, and the punishment of her father; let her be gone, Mafter Curate, let her live, fince infamy can live, but let me die far diftant from her: let her depart this very day; the must leave this country, and never let her again prefent herfelf before my grey hairs, which the has dishonoured." "The Curate tried to foften Simon, but his efforts were in vain. Simon repeated the pofitive order for the depar "Simon was as ufual reading the Old Teftament. Our good curate fat down by him, and began to talk of the beauture of Claudine. Our good old Curate tiful ftories which are contained in that divine book; he dwelt particularly on that of Jofeph when he pardons his brethren on that of the great king David when he pardons his fon Abfalom, and many others I do not know, but are well known to the curate.-Simon was of the fame opinion. The curate faid, that God had given us thofe examples of mercy, that we in like manner, being -Hib. Mag. Oc. 1792. was going away in fadnefs, when the old man ran after him, brought him back into his apartment, and ihut the door; then putting into his hands an old purfe of leather, containing fitty crowns, "Mafter Curate," faid he," this wretch will be in want of every thing.Give her thefe fifty crowns, not as from me, beware of that, but as a charity from yourself.-Tell her that it is the goods of the poor, |