ZARA; OR THE ADVENTURES OF AN ENGLISH WIFE. (Continued from Page 72) "I CONCEALED myself behind the trees, would appear to me inconceivably more preand approached near to him. Since I swal.cious than that vain and pompous situation in lowed love's envenomed draught, which has ex- which you now see me. I am the daughter of tended itself over every part of my heart, ah, a Sovereign, it is true, but I am no less a slave my dear Elvira, how amiable does that slave than yourself, and my days run in a gloomy' appear to me, I could pass the whole day in solitude. If I remain in this country, I shall viewing him; but the idea of seeing him in the one day become the partner of a jealous husevening in the same place, without being per- band who will divide the affections of his barceived by him, obliged me to retire with all barous heart between me and a number of the precaution imaginable, lest he or any one rivals; perhaps I may have the grief of seeing else should discover me. I was sure of re- him consider me beneath the meanest of his turning the next day at the same hour to the slaves. A heart prepossessed with love like grove. I saw him again, viewed him more mine, would look upon such a husband as an attentively, and every time found in him new odious tyrant. Believe me, my dear Elvira, perfections; my passions acquired new forces, and let us seize the precious moment, you to and I began to be sensible of my folly. 1. recover your liberty, and I to possess my lover. blushed with shame and confusion, and would We have yet six weeks to pass in this house; have called in reason to my aid, but it flew let us employ them to procure us happiness. away from me. Such is my infatuation, that Speak to my lover, examine him, and see if we I have not missed a day to repair at the ac- may rely on him. Assure him that I adore customed hour to this fatal place of conceal- him. When a heart is so tenderly possessed ment to admire my lover; but yesterday con- as mine, constraint becomes a folly, and distributed to deprive me totally of my reason. guise is a crime. If he will determine to carry I found this slave seated near a bed of flowers, me away, I will procure him the means. We casting up his sorrowful eyes to heaven while will depart for Europe in three days, and I will tears trickled down his cheeks, I beard him convey with me gold and jewels sufficient to utter some complaints, but was not near enough to distinguish his words. Without doubt he was complaining of his hard fate. Never could one appear more above the coudition of the slave, for he seemed rather born to give than bear fetters. I dare, my dear Elvira, to open to you the recesses of my heart, though I doubt not but you will condemn my sentiments. But why should I conceal from you my most secret thoughts. Are you not that Elvira who has sworn to me an eternal friendship; that Elvira who pities my deplorable situation? Yes, my dear, I will conceal nothing from you; if you will assist me, and heaven favours my design, I will break the chains of my lover; I will restore you to liberty and make my elf the happiest person in the world. I have often heard you expatiate on the happiness of the European women; that happiness if I can divide it with my lover, enrich us both." The soul of Elvira was so agitated by dif ferent passions during this discourse, that she dared not to interrupt her. The idea of returning to England, of being in a condition to procure some tidings of her husband, the hopes of being able, by some means or other, to restore him to liberty, and to be again united to him; all this, at first appearance, seemed so flattering, that she knew not how to resist the proposal. But the most frightful reflections succeeded this flattering prospect. She trembled, lest so daring a project as that of their flight should be discovered, as she would then feel all the fury of the euraged Dey; and that such an attempt to procure her liberty, would render abortive all the cares her husband might be taking to bring about her release; for she had not yet heard of her father's death. The perplexity of Elvira continued for some moments after Zara had done speaking. The beautiful African waited, trembling, and with downcast eyes, the answer of her confidant. It was more favourable than she dared to think. The impatience of Elvira to learn news of the Colonel prevailed over all the fears in her heart. She could not endure the thoughts of his absence, and death appeared to her a more desirable state than the present. She resolved to employ all means for her escape, and to accept those which Zara offered ler. "I will," said she, " do every thing you can desire. I am not ignorant to what dangers we shall expose ourselves; but, whatever may be the lot Heaven has in store for us, it cannot be more sorrowful than that which we now experience. You are still ignorant of one half of my misfortunes, and when I shall have informed you of that, which I have hitherto concealed from you, you will then believe that slavery is not the greatest of my misfortunes." The violent passion of Zara should caution Bathinking youth, how thy suffer love to become the tyrant of the heart, since they then cease to reason, and expose themselves to the most fatal dangers. They no longer pay the duty which they owe to their parents, the authors of their existence, but consider their prudent and dearest counsels as the decrees of a tyrannical and arbitary power. When this passion is once suffered to subdue reason, farewell to the object it possesses. Zara was so charm d with the first words of Elvira, that she paid little attention to the latter. At another time she would have known what were the misfortunes of which her friend complained, but at present she thought of nothing but of the promise she made to assist her escape. She threw herself on the neck of Elvira, and holding her in her arms-" "My dear," said she, "I am the happiest person in the world; all will go well since you second my designs. But," continued she, with an air of impatience," when will you speak to my lover? You will find him in the same place in the garden, where I every day see him. I will not accompany you in the morning, be cause, it having been my constant rule not to walk out till the sun bas taken its farewell of No. XXX. Vol. V.-N. §. these regions, some one or other may be curi. ous to see where we are going, and every thing would be lost on the least suspicion. As he may, perhaps, be doubtful of giving cre'i: to your words, seeing you only a slave, you shall give him, as from me, this present. He will thereby p'ainly perceive that it comes from a person whose situation in life cannot but ap. pear more exalted than yours." She then drew out of her pocket a crescent set with the richest diamonds, and gave it to Elvira. Hope now animated the bosom of Zara, and from that absolute despair which she was dying under but an hour before, she is become on a sudden the bappiest of all women. There is no passion a young lady should more cautiously guard against than that of love, which, like the ebb and flow of the sea, is never long in one situation: one moment the heart raves with despair, and the next it is dilated with joy; stability is a thing unknown in unguarded love. Elvira, whom the hope of being restored to liberty had made more gay than usul, said, with a deal of pleasantry, to Zura:-" Indeed we do not treat our European lovers in so favourable a manner; they think themselves happy if, after some months, and sometimes even whole years, they are permitted to declare their passion; and it is even then a doubt if it be favourably received." "What," said Zara, with an air of surprise, you love a man for many months, he knows that you love him, and you believe that he has the same passion for you, and yet both of you make a secret of that which, if disclosed, must tend to your mutual happiness! If you thus lavish the prime of life, Africans are more wise than Europeans. From the moment we have formed a passion our first care is to seck a favourable opportunity to declare our love to the objects of our hearts. We believe that one moment lost in love is precious time thrown away, which can never be regained. In the constraint in which we live we are obliged to banish that vain affectedness so much practised by Europeans; but were they under the same constraint as we are, they would know better the value of that time which they thus wantonly throw away; were we evca as free as they are, we should not imitate their conduct; to what end can dissimulation be used between two who equally love each other? Why should not you love in Europe as tenderly as we do in Africa? A heart, in which love maintains its empire, full of the object it adores, can it be susceptible of dissimulation and constraint? Custom and prejudice must be very predominant among you, or it must be that what you call love and tenderness are nothing but imaginary passions, which have no real existence in your heart." we love "We love," said Elvira, sighing, as tenderly in England as you at Tunis; perhaps I may one day convince you of it; but it is now time you should think of taking your repose. Night is already far advanced, be assured of my friendship and fidelity, and that when you awake in the morning, I will bring you news from your lover; I will repair to the appointed place in the garden as soon as Aurera ushers in the joyful day." Elvira failed not in her promise to Zara, but went the next morning to the grove before the sun had well begun his course. She perceived the slave at a distance watering the flowers which bordered the sides of the walks. His back being turned towards her she could not see his face; but being only a small distance from him, the noise of her feet on the walk made him turn his head.-Unhappy Zara, where will thy misfortunes end!-No sooner had Elvira seen the face of the slave than she became motionless; and the slave, who had now a full view of Elvira, remained equally immoveable. After looking at each other for a moment, without being able to recover the use of their speech, Elvira caught the slave in her arms, and there held him still speechless. The slave at last cried out, in a transport of the utmost tenderness:-" Do I see you again, my beautiful Elvira, do I see you again?" Elvira answered not, for she had swooned in the arms of her Colonel; but the voice of her husband soon recalled her to life." Is it you then?" said she; "is it you who I am permitted to embrace? O happy day. In this moment I forget all the misfortunes your ab. sence has caused me. But, my dear Colonel," continued she, "you know not yet the whole of our happiness; we shall be permitted to see each other every day, and perhaps shall be enabled to find means for our return to England.” "Let us hope every thing," said the Colonel, "from fortune, and love: Heaven will not thus reunite us to load us with grief and despair." "No," replied Elvira; "I flatter myself that fortune will henceforward be less cruel; but tell me, my dear Colonel, what accident brought you here? Do you belong to the master of this house?" "No," replied the Colonel; "I have been here only six days. On the distribution of slaves I fell to the lot of a Turk named Benazira, who carried me to Portofarino, the usual place of his residence. The evening before I set out for this house he said to me :-"Listen Christian; you know that I have shewn you many marks of friendship, it is necessary you should now shew me yours in return. Osman has demanded of me a man who understands the management of a garden. You must prepare to go there to morrow, and stay there sa long as he shall have occasion for you.. I have ordered a Turk to conduct you to his country house. Where you must endeavour to give Osman content; and I shall consider the ser vices doue him as if equally done to myself." "I accordingly came here, and on my ar rival did not see Osman, but was told by one of his principal domestics that I was to take care of the culture of the flowers so long as some ladies who were in the house should con tinue there." "Ab what," said Elvira, was you then ignorant who was the mistress of these wo men?" "I actually do not yet know," said the Colonel; "nor do I believe any one does except the chief of Osman's slaves." "If you had known," replied Elvira, "you would have perhaps thought that your wife was not far distant. It is the Dey's daughter who is here, and who will undoubtedly put a period to our misfortunes. What will you say, if I tell you, that she wishes to restore you in particular from slavery?" "I know not by what means," said the Colonel," she can be interested in my favour being ignorant that I am your husband, and having never seen me; but we must embrace all opportunities that offer to put an end to our captivity. I do not wish, my beloved Elvira, to lessen your present joy, or mix with bitterness this happy reunion; nevertheless, I must tell you, that you may not be deceived in your intentions, that you have nothing to hope from the assistance of your father." He softened as much as possible the cir cumstances of her father's death, for fear of afflicting her; he, however, said enough to convince her that there was no hope of a ransom from England. This news aflicted Elvira, but in her present condition, now speaking to her husband, and hoping never more to be separated from him, her heart opened but faintly to the impressions of grief. Great joys seize entirely on the mind, and hurry away the soul with impetuosity, not leaving the least room for sorrowful ideas. In a heart full of the present object, distant images make but a faint impression. At another time the news of her father's death, and the dissipation of all her riches, would have excited the highest sorrow, and have overflowed her in tears; but having now recovered her hus band whom she adored, and thought to have lost for ever, she was hardly affected with any lasting sorrow at this news. can the utmost regret I employ these means, and amiable Zara to that melancholy condition in which we must expect to find her on our arrival in England, when she shall learn from our words and behaviour that she has no share of my heart?" "Since all hope," said Elvira, "is torn from us in our native country, let us embrace the opportunity which love and chance gives us in this: Heaven is witness there is no extremity which should induce me to violate the sacred rites of friendship, but the hope of restoring liberty to my husband. It is to me intolerable anguish to abuse that weak-proach ourselves with having reduced the ness of a friend of which I am the confidant, but the fear of being separated from you carries every thing before it. What I am now speaking must appear a mystery to you, but it is necessary I should explain it in a few words.-Zara, the Dey's daughter, loves you; she has many times gazed on you from that grove unperceived by you; and she has now charged me to make you this present. She is now ready to fly with us to England. Since fortune has deprived us of all other means of procuring our liberty, it is necessary, my dear Colonel, we should embrace this; it is with "Why should we take her to England?" interrupted Elvira: " 'you may, if you please, make use of her to prepare every thing for our departure, and when we are gone, we shall deceive her only in leaving her here." "You give me a commission," said the Colonel," which I fear I shall but badly execute; but my dear Elvira, where shall I see you, hereafter? the idea of that momeat in which ! other in her presence, otherwise our eyes, our you quit me makes me tremble." A gestures, and our words will betray us. DEATH OF MR HORNE TOOKE. THE death of this remarkable character, is not an occurrence of every day, it is the death of a man, who in the period in which he has lived, and the sphere which he has filled, has been more active and more conspicuous, than any other person now living. From the commencement of the reign of his present Majesty, to the day of Horne Tooke's death, scarcely has any public occurrence passed in which he has not had a greater share than belonged to his mere private station. He has accordingly been the most active individual in a period of general activity. He has lived in more revolutions of politics and parties than any other man of the day, and in all of them have his talents or bis intrigue, his good or bad intentions, and indefatigable spirit and exertions rendered him an actor. Mr. Tooke was born in a humble station of life; his father is said to have been a poulterer. But as this father, who lived in some of the small streets about Westminster, had the spirit to send his son to a Public School, and afterwards to a College, it is a reasonable conclusion either that he was richer than ordinary, or that he possessed a very superior mind to what usually belongs to his condition. His father at any rate was sufficiently re mind as that of Horne Tooke, was sufficient to render him the eminent scholar which be afterwards exhibited himself. It is the character of Westminster School, that it puts i's pupils in the right way, and imbibes them with a right mind, and therefore they have only to follow in future life the plan which is there traced for them.-This is all that any school cau do, and it is more we believe than is done by the greater part of them. To begin well is to ensure a good conclusion. It is related in a memoir of Horse Tooke, inserted in a work published some time since, that he was removed from Westrainster to Eton at the usual ag. This, however, must be a mistake, as Westminster and Eton are not in the relation of school and college to each other. It is possible that Horne Tooke might have had the advantage of both these eminent schools, but is more probable that this is an error. In the year 1754, he was sent to Cambridge, and entered himself of St. John's College. We do not know what was the reputation of this College at the time, but it is certainly a high honour to its name in literature that it has sent forth such a profound scholar as Horne Tooke. He studied at College with the most exem spectable to be the Treasurer of a Public Cha-plary industry, and he acquired the necessary rity. This was the Middlesex Hospital, of fruit of such assiduity, an early proficiency in which Horne Tooke himself afterwards be-learning and philology. came one of the Governors. Mr. H. Tooke was educated for the Church, Mr. Tooke was sent to Westminster School and bis first prospects are said to have been at a very early age, and is said to have passed very promising. He entered into Holy Orders through all the forms of that distinguished at the usual age, and immediately obtained seminary. This course of itself, in such all the living of Brentford. He had connections |