in what once happened, the type of that which must be. It is in vain for us to try to reproduce in our minds all the immediate faith that attended the birth of the life of poetry and mythology, of which we have now only the dead letters. Our sole interest is in the progress of the human mind in these matters-our sole question remains, what was thought under these appearances?

ERMANO AND GABRIELLE.

FROM A FRENCH MANUSCRIPT.

IT was the fifteenth of August, the day of the Assumption, that the daughter of the Count Egmont was to take the religious habit.

The bride (dressed in a lace robe over white satin, ornamented with diamonds, having on her head a crown of myrtle,) was kneeling in the church; at her side was a lovely little girl, about eleven years of age, who held the candle and the fan. The young ladies belonging to the school, and who had formerly been her companions, were ranged round the altar. The bells announced that the ceremony was going to begin, the church was filled with the nobility, magnificently dressed. Every eye was fixed on this young girl, so beautiful, who disdaining all the advantages of fortune and nobility, was going to bury herself, at eighteen years of age, in a convent, when the organ was heard, and the priests, accompanied by the father of the bride, left the sacristy, and with solemn steps advanced. When the bishop had made the first demands, to which the young person answered in a low voice, four little girls, of the same size, walked before, holding baskets of rose leaves, which they strewed, while her father in a splendid habit conducted her to the altar.

Nothing could surpass the recollection of the bride during mass; she remained immoveable, and appeared wholly absorbed in devotion. Every eye was filled with tears on beholding her. When the service was finished, her father again presented her his arm, and the four little girls preceding, were followed by some of the other young ladies carrying the habit, veil, scissars, crown, &c.

All followed to the door of the convent, where the bishop knocked three times with his crosier, and demanded entrance for the spouse of the Lord, who, on the door being opened, knelt on the threshold. The nuns, to the number of forty, each with a lighted wax candle in her hand, were arranged on each side the door, and in the middle stood a young girl in the dress of a postulant, so lovely, that at the sight of her each one exclaimed, "Who is that? what heavenly beauty!" and all pressed with eagerness to obtain a sight of her.

In effect, nothing could be imagined to equal the beauty of the young aspirante, thus presenting herself to receive the spouse, who now sang one verse of a psalm, to which the young lady, who held a crucifix in her hand, answered, but in a voice so melodious, that the assistants thought it must be an angel that was assisting at the awful ceremony. Three verses, selected for the occasion, having been alter

nately sung, the hand of Adelaide was taken, and she was led to the abbess, before whom she again knelt, and was asked what she demanded; having replied, to be admitted to join their holy society, she took her leave of her worldly friends, thanking them for the assistance they had given in conducting her to the object of her wishes.

The spectators, on the door being closed, hastened to the grate to witness the affecting ceremony of the receiving the habit. Here the usual questions being put as to her age, whether it was of her own free will that she embraced a religious state, &c., to which Adelaide answered with firmness; a lock of her hair was then cut off, and her garment removed, which she threw from her with a modest dignity, which caused tears mingled with sobs from the assembly.

The doors of the grate being then closed, in a few moments the bride, lately so elegantly attired, appeared in the humble habit of

a nun.

The

No sooner was the ceremony finished, than all hastened to inquire the name of the young beauty who had captivated them. abbess simply replied, that she was a young person dedicated to religion, but, that being yet too young, she would only be admitted as postulant.

Among the spectators was the Count Ermano di Villanuova, and the beauty of the young pretendant had produced the most violent effect on him. His sister was a pensioner in the convent, and he hoped to learn from her who she was, but in vain, for the young ladies were only allowed to see the nuns at Christmas.

Ermano, violently in love with the young unknown, lost his appetite and his rest; his cheerfulness forsook him, and he sought for relief in solitude: hours he would pass sauntering round the convent, but vain were his hopes of seeing the object of his love. Equally vain were the visits be paid his sister; it was not till the expiration of three weeks that Ellena informed him, that being very skilful in embroidery, she had been requested to give some instructions to the postulant; that although strict silence was enjoined, yet during the absence of the mistress of novices, she had learnt that Gabrielle was destined to religion, that she idolized her mother, who was wretched at being deprived of her only daughter: tears came into her eyes, said Ellena, while speaking of her mother. "Ah! Ellena," said the Count, “I adore that divine girl; you must assist me to obtain her."-" Do you know what you are saying?" replied Ellena, terrified; "would you tear a spouse from the Almighty?"-"Sister, Gabrielle has not said she wished to become a nun; she is in the convent against her will; and alas! if I do not obtain her, I shall die."

“Well, I will do all I can; I know what is to love,-what would I not do to hasten the moment of my union with him to whom my heart is pledged?"

The following week Ellena told him that she had shown his picture to Gabrielle, in the following manner as she constantly wore it round her neck, she let it slip out, as if accidentally; that Gabrielle had hastily inquired whose picture it was, and had blushed deeply on hearing it was that of her brother; after some minutes, continued Ellena, she added, I thought it was your lover, for they say you are to be

married in a twelvemonth. Yes, I replied, and presenting her with my watch, here is the resemblance of my future husband.

She trembled when she took it,—said it was very handsome,-but immediately turned her eyes to your picture, which remained hanging over my dress. Ermano, transported with joy, thought his hopes were now realized.

Gabrielle, in the meanwhile, who had not the least inclination for a monastic life, had remarked the Count during the ceremony, and having perceived that his fine dark eyes were riveted on her, she felt an emotion for which she could not account; however, it was but of short duration, for regarding herself as absolutely devoted to religion, and considering the little probability there was that the stranger should ever think of her, the impression had soon passed away, nor would she have ever thought of him again, had not Ellena, by showing her the miniature, excited a real and violent affection.

All the ceremonies of religion now became insupportable to her,every thing was disgusting-she thought only of the charming Count. A thousand and a thousand times she accused her father of cruelty, and she considered her lot as dreadful. Her continual inattention brought on her severe reproaches, which disgusted her still more with a religious life.

Ermano was obliged to return to Italy. Before his departure, he obtained permission to enter the convent in company of the bishop, but his hopes were frustrated, the lovely postulant was not present, and he was obliged to quit France without knowing if he were loved, or rather in the firm persuasion that he was not.

Before his departure, he entreated his sister to embrace every opportunity of speaking of him to the young postulant, and if possible to inspire her with favourable sentiments of him. Ellena endeavoured to console him, but she did not entertain any hopes of being able to assist him, for she no longer saw Gabrielle; and, besides, she was well aware that it was to satisfy the ambition of her father that that beautiful girl was immured in a convent.

Gabrielle was entirely ignorant of her own sentiments; she knew not that she loved. One day they were conversing in the noviciate about their vocations; Adelaide, who was all fervour, said, that she could not comprehend how it was possible to love a mortal; it seemed to her so natural to love nothing but God.

As she spoke in a truly angelical manner of the love of God, and depicted her own feelings with a great deal of simplicity, Gabrielle felt herself greatly affected; tears rolled down her cheeks, and she resolved to speak to her director. He being a very enlightened man, soon perceived that she was by no means calculated for a life of seclusion; but he knew not that she loved, as Gabrielle never named the Count, as she was herself ignorant of her sentiments in this regard. The good Father Gerardin contented himself with giving her some advice; he spoke of her vows as of a thing so far distant, that she ought not to make herself uneasy on account of her dispositions.

He calmed her for a short time, but the young and fervent Adelaide quitted the convent soon after; and although her reasons were not

known, Gabrielle thought she had not found all that happiness in it which she had expected.

After her departure, Mother Agatha, who was mistress of novices, made a long discourse to them, to strengthen them in their resolutions, and to represent the dreadful dangers to which the salvation of persons living in the world was exposed.

She addressed herself in an especial manner to Gabrielle, although she was assured that she was there for life.

The good father, not finding in her the least inclination for a monastic life, offered up fervent prayers for this innocent girl, whose fate he lamented above all, when the Count, who could not endure absence, returned to France, and owned his passion for Gabrielle to the holy man, begging him to assist him.

I fear," said the ecclesiastic, "that you will not succeed; Gabrielle is the daughter of Count d'Esterville."-" Ah!" exclaimed the Count," of that man who displeased all his family by marrying a girl whose only dowry was her beauty and virtues."-" Precisely," replied the other; and that is what renders him so poor, that to support his son, he is obliged to sacrifice his daughter.

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My fortune is sufficient for us both," rejoined Ermano. “I will demand her in marriage to-morrow. I will set off for her father's

mansion."

That evening a lady arrived at the convent, in great haste, to withdraw Gabrielle, whose brother had died suddenly. Nothing could exceed the surprise and disappointment of the nuns. While praising the excellent qualities of the postulant, they spoke of the dangers to which she would be exposed in the world; they assured the lady that she was only fit for a convent, of which she would be a real jewel.

The Baroness de Fougères replied, that the parents of Gabrielle ardently desired her return; she added, that she was now their only child; she did not in the least doubt that the virtues of Mdlle. d'Esterville would render her very useful in the world, and really, my good mothers, we are in great want of good examples.

Each nun, as she embraced Gabrielle, gave her a little exhortation; the good Abbess hoped they should soon see her return, and promised her the assistance of her prayers.

During the journey, Gabrielle was so occupied with her reflections, that she did not speak, till the lady broke silence by informing her, that the death of her brother had been occasioned by a fall from an unruly horse, which he would mount, in spite of the entreaties of some friends who were with him; that he had survived some hours, during which he had received the sacraments with great devotion. This assurance consoled Gabrielle very much; though she wept bitterly for his loss. When she arrived at the paternal mansion, which she had never hoped to see again, the emotion of Gabrielle was so great, that she fainted in the arms of the baroness.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself alone with her mother, who was bathing her with her tears: words are inadequate to express their mutual joy, mingled with grief for the cruel cause of their reunion; but, religion coming to their aid, when the Count d'Esterville

entered, they appeared perfectly tranquil. He embraced his daughter tenderly, and quitted the room to conceal the tears which forced themselves from his eyes.

Time restored tranquillity to this amiable family, and Gabrielle was delighted to find her dear Adelaide again, who dedicated her immense fortune to the relief of the miserable, and the education of children. Soon they were inseparable. Adelaide told her friend that she had been inspired with a desire to become a nun by the preaching of a monk, and strengthened in it by reading some books which treated of an ascetic life: that her parents, being very pious, would not contradict her, though they did not think her vocation came from God; and as they loved her tenderly, they ardently wished her to remain with them. Being disappointed in the idea she had formed of a convent, Father Gerardin had confirmed her in the resolution of returning to the world, and had given her advice as to the manner of disposing of the property of which her grandmother had made her heiress. Gabrielle, for her part, acknowledged that she could not help contrasting the lives of the nuns, with those of many persons she had known in the world, and the disgust with which she had been inspired in con

sequence.

Six months passed away in this manner, when Ermano, who still adored Gabrielle, arrived to demand her in marriage. The Count was surprised to find that he knew his daughter: he thanked him, but begged he would not be offended if he declined a foreign alliance; besides, his daughter was already betrothed, and he only waited till time had more fully obliterated their grief, to speak to her on the subject of her marriage.

What a thunderbolt for the Count!

"To whom then," he exclaimed hastily, "does the hand of that adorable girl belong?" The Count smiled, and then assuming an air of severity, "Young man," said he, " I am not accountable to you for my conduct, but, what you ought to know is, that you never ought to have loved my daughter; it was a sacrilege.'

"Did God command you to sacrifice your daughter to him? Did she wish to embrace that state?" The Count knit his brows, bit his lips, and then replied in a firm tone

I pardon these transports on account of your youth, but learn to respect the repose of my family. When you first saw Gabrielle, she was devoted to religion-now, she is the betrothed bride of another."

The young man quitted the house a prey to the most poignant anguish, and going he knew not whither, he directed his steps towards a hill; but what was his joy on seeing the beautiful object of his love accompanied by Adelaide, each holding a small basket, and conversing in high spirits.

Jealousy immediately seized him; he thought she was talking of her approaching nuptials, when Gabrielle raising her eyes, and seeing Ermano, was seized with a sudden faintness, and fell. He flew to save her, but she was pale, cold, and devoid of sense.

Adelaide, to whom he was a stranger, thanked him, and begged he would inform the Count d'Esterville of the accident; but he, listening only to his passion and his fears, continued to support his be