231

"And his character and qualities," said, my aunt," do not contradict his air and deportment. He is truly what he seems. There is nothing false, ostentatious, or acted in the gravity and composure which he wears. He is in the highest law office in England; and he administers the duties of his office with a wisdom and conscientious justice to which posterity will do more justice than the present times. He has the character, indeed, of being slow and timid; and I believe he is so, but it is the slowness and timidity of a man who dreads nothing so much as iniquity. His decrees accordingly have this character. I believe not one of them have ever been reversed. His opinion is law, because his talent and his learning have rendered even his opinions sentences." "This nobleman," said I, "seems to be of fashion in the excess." in very high favour with you."

tion of virtue thau that it is reputation; and accordingly, let any one secure her on the side of reputation, and she is at their command. She dismisses every thing serious as hypocrisy, and has always some raillery, or merry jest or gibe, at hand whenever it is mentioned. With respect to religion, she is not an infidel, indeed,-and for this very good reason, that she has never given herself any thought about it; she believes, therefore, from habit and decency, and from the same habit she satisfies herself with believing. And with respect to morality, she is restricted to what is done by people of fashion and honour. She has no hesitation, therefore, to gamble, and when the caprice takes her, to be insolent, oppressive, and even dishonest in withholding debts. In short, she is a woman

66 no other

"No," replied my aunt;" wise so than as a just man; I merely reecho the public opinion and public voice. But look at that lady next the window, so richly dressed."

"She is very handsome," said I; " and yet she appears on the other side of forty. She is a striking woman, however; who is she?"

"And who is that young man that is talking to her?"

"He is a young man," said my aunt, "who from his childhood to his manhood has been brought up in the Court and in the Drawing-room; and thence the whipsyllabub character which you may trace to be written in his face. He has a simper, smile, or laugh for every body, and he distributes it according to their respective degrees. His whole countenance and deportment is a scale of ceremony. You will see that he has one smile for me, and auother for you. The reason is very simply this,-I am an actual Peeress, you merely the daughter of a Baronet, and only the

"I conceive her to be the most finished gentlewoman, as far as mere manners, address, and general deportment go," said my aunt," of any lady in his Majesty's dominions. But there my praise must end. In all other respects she is a lady of the old Court; that is to say, one of Lord Chester- || granddaughter of an Earl.” field's beau ideals. She has no other no

(To be continued.)

ZARA; OR THE ADVENTURES OF AN ENGLISH WIFE.

(Continued from Page 182.)

ZARA then retired; and no sooner had they got into their apartment than Zara em braced her confidant :-"My dear sister," said she, "let us hasten the moment which may set you at liberty and unite me for ever to your brother." She then opened a little box full of gold:-"See," continued Zara, "what you must convey to your brother. He must endeavour to secure the Captain of some Christian vessel, who must bring up a boat privately

to some obscure part of the shore. We may be under sail all night and part of the morning before we are missed; and when they shall become acquainted with our flight it will be in vain for them to pursue us as they will be strangers to the route we shall have taken."

Elvira was the more charmed with this project of Zara, as it seemed very proper to carry on her deceit, and that she and her husband should be able to set sail before the beautiful

watched the looks of Elvira, and encouraged by the hope of a speedy end to all their misfortunes,

pose," said Elvira; "and to-morrow Zara shall order you to go to Tunis; but undoubtedly she will wish to speak to you before your de-appeared much more cheerful than formerly. parture. Remember that you are to constrain yourself, and keep the promise you have

made."

Elvira being obliged to return to her mis tress, embraced her husband, and went and instructed Zara, that she must order the slave to go to Tunis, to procure a sort of pink which was not in their garden, and then informed her of the nature of this journey. Zara ap proved of this scheme, but desired to see Ernestus before his departure, and for this purpose walked the next day in the garden.

The Colonel kept his word with Elvira, and appeared so fond of his lover that this second interview between him and Zara increased the affections of the unfortunate African.

The Colonel being arrived at Tunis, informed himself directly of what vessels were ready to sail; and was told that there was a Dutch ship bound directly for London, that the Captain had been some days on shore, and lodged at the Dutch Consul's house. He found means of speaking to him privately, and agreed with him that he should at a certain time lie at anchor at about half a mile distance from Osman's house, and that he should wait with his boat on shore about midnight. The Colonel was overjoyed to find the vessel was bound directly for London, and having taken all necessary measures for their departure, returned to give Elvira an account of the steps he had taken. They both concluded that it would be necessary to tell Zara that their departure must be delayed two days longer. Elvira was to join the Colonel in the grove while Zara was locked fast in the arms of sleep, and every thing seemed so well regulated as hardly to admit of a possibility of its failing. Fortune, however, had decided otherwise, and had reserved for this couple evils greater than any they had yet experienced.

Zara being informed of the Colonel's return, repaired at the usual hour to the accustomed place. The joy she received from the hopes of her speedy departure animated her generous bosom, and she gave her lover the sincerest marks of the strongest passiou. The Colonel No. XXXII. Vol. V.-N. S.

Zara was fully persuaded that she was equally beloved by the object of her soul, and returned to her apartments with a heart full of the most flattering ideas. The joy she re ceived was not, however, confined within that bounds of prudence which were necessary to the execution of such great designs. Her extraordinary gaiety gave cause of suspicion to ong of her women, who, desirous of knowing what could have such an effect on her mistress, concealed herself in a closet, in the very room where Elvira and Zara generally discoursed to gether; she overheard every thing they said, and doubted not but she should have a con siderable reward on discovering it to the Dey, as it was a matter of the highest importance she theref.re immediately wrote to her sovereign, acquainting him with the resolution his daughter had taken of making her escape with the two slaves, Ernestus and Elvira.

The Dey having received this letter from her woman by an eunuch she had dispatched with it, set out the moment he had read it for Osman's house; on his arrival there he would certainly have killed Ernestus and Elvira on the spot, had it not been for the tenderness he had for his daughter, whose life he feared might be endangered by such a step. Never had a father a more tender affection for a child that the Dey had for Zara.

The Colonel and his lady were immediately arrested, and the Dey then passing into the apartments of his daughter, ordered her not to depart thence, and placed eunuchs to guard her. He found his daughter drowned in tears, for she doubted not when she was informed that Elvira was arrested, but the Dey had been informed of the resolution they had taken, and fearful for the life of her lover, she was ready every moment to put an end to her

own.

The Dey seeing the affliction of his beloved daughter, could not but bear a part in her pain, and his rage vanished at the sight of his almost expiring Zara.

"Ah! my daughter," said he, "what has thy father doue that you should thus most

Gg

23 4

you expect that thy father and thy king should pardon a criminal who has endeavoured to dishonour thee, to deprive thee of that illustrious rank which Heaven has given you, and who would make a glory of thy infamy in all Christian countries."

"

cruelly afflict him? Is this all the consolation I am to expect from you when grey hairs have already covered my head, and the infirmities of old age hang heavily upon me? Ah, Zara! have you so far forgot yourself as to be a stranger to honour! Alas, how wretched is the condition of a fond parent whose tender ness is repaid with ingratitude! From the world in general we have little else to expect than ingratitude and insult; but when they come from the nearest object of our heartfrom the child we tenderly love the child that we have nursed like a flower-which we watch- "You suffer yourself to be deceived," reed night and day to preserve from the coldplied the Dey; "all stolen marriages have northern blasts, this surely is insupportable, been the consequence of perjury. But have and life itself under such circumstances be. you, without blushing, been capable of harcomes an intolerable burden. Ah! return my bouring the thought of making a slave your husband." daughter to your duty, and every thing which is passed shall be buried in eternal oblivion. I know you have been seduced, and that your credulity has been abused; but those who were the cause of it shall be punished with the utmost rigour; they shall feel the weight of my avenging hand."

"My glory," replied Zara, was in no intended danger; I should have fled with my husband, and the moment we had reached land should have been united with him for ever. My hand would have been to him a gift more || precious than a crown."

"Ah!" cried Zara, “Ernestus dies, Zara must die also! my life is attached to his! My father! if ever I was dear to you, refuse not to unite me in death to my lover! It was I who seduced him! It is I who this day plunge the poignard in his bosom! I am ready to die at your knees, while I embrace them! Snatch me, my father, from that life which I detest!-Revenge yourself, punish me, for your anger is just; it will be only striking || that blow which I shall strike myself should your pity spare me; if you fear to shed the blood of your daughter, give me that poignard, and my own hand shall deliver me from those calamities I can no longer suffer.-Ob, Ernestus! Ob, Elvira! pardon the misfortunes I have caused you! Alas! I am still, whatever destiny may design you, more to be pitied than you!"

"Just Heaven!" said the Dey, " to what misfortunes have you reserved me! am I to finish my days with the ruin of a daughter,|| who, in spite of her folly and disobedience, I love dearer than myself.-Tell me Zara, cau

"The birth of that slave,” replied Zara, “ is illustrious, and fortune, which has treated him so ill in other respects, has given him an advantage in that; but had he been born in the most abject state his virtues would have merifed a hundred times more than I can give bim. Alas! all the gifts which I have wished to make him now prove his destruction; but for me but for my love, he would indeed have lived as a slave this day, but then he would have lived in hopes of at last recovering his liberty!-Now his fate is fixed, all hopes are lost, and he must perish; but yet if mortals are sensible of what passes after death, he will know that I did not long survive him, but that I sacrificed my life at the feet of his murderers."

After thus speaking, Zara snatched the poignard from the scabbard, as it hung by her father's side, she snatched it so quickly that the Dey had scarce time to wrest it from her hand before the point of it had time to graze her bosom.-Infatuated Zara, to what an excess did thy deluded passion carry thee.Be cautious ye fair, how you sacrifice the duty you owe to God, your parents, and yourselves, to the pernicious and deceitful snares of mis. taken love.

(To be continued.)

PARALLEL ACTS OF ASSASSINATION WITH THAT LATELY COMMITTED ON MR. PERCEVAL.

PREDICTION OF THE DEATH OF THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM, AND HIS MURDER BY FELTON. FROM CLARENDON'S HISTORY OF THE REBEL LION,

"THERE were many stories scattered abroad at that time, of several prophecies and predic tions of the Duke of Buckingham's untimely and violent death. Amongst the rest there was one, which was upon a better foundation of credit than usually such discourses are founded upon. There was an officer in the King's Wardrobe in Windsor Castle, of good reputation for honesty and discretion, and then about the age of fifty years or more: this man had, in his youth, been bred in a school in the parish where Sir George Villiers, the father of the Duke lived; and had been much cherished and obliged in that season of his age, by the said Sir George, whom afterwards he uever saw. About six months before the miserable end of the Duke of Buckingham, about midnight, this man being in his bed, at Windsor, where his office was, and in very good health, there appeared to him on the side of his bed, a man of a very venerable aspect, who drew the curtains of his bed, and fixing his eyes upon bim, asked him if he knew him. The poor man, half dead with fear and apprehension, being asked the second time, whether he remembered him? and having in that time called to his memory the presence of Sir George Villiers, and the very cloaths he used to wear, in which at that time he seemed to be habit-d, he answered him, that he thought him to be that person. He replied," he was in the right; that he was the same, and that he expected a service from him, which was, that he should go from him to his son the Duke of Buckingham, and tell him, if he did not somewhat to ingratiate himself to the people, or, at least, to abate the extreme malice they had against him, he would be suffered to live but a short time.'After this discourse he disappeared; and the poor man, if he had been at all waking, slept very well till morning, when he believed all this to be a dream, and considered it no otherwise.

"The next night, or shortly after, the same

personappeared to him again in the same place, and about the same time of the night, with an aspect a little more severe than before; and asked him, whether he had done as he required him? and perceiving he had not, gave him very severe reprehensions; told him, 'he expected more compliance from him; and that if he did not perform his commands, he should enjoy no peace of mind, but should be always pursued by him. Upon which he promised to obey him; but the next morning waking out of a good sleep, though he was exceedingly perplexed with the lively representation of all particulars to his memory, he was willing still to persuade himself, that be only dreamed; and considered that he was a person at such a distance from the Duke, that he knew not how to find admission to his presence, much less had any hope to he believed in what he should say. So with great trouble and unquietness, he spent some time in thinking what he should do; and in the end resolved to do nothing in the matter.

"The same person appeared to him the third time, with a terrible countenance, and bitterly reproaching him for not performing what he had promised to do. The poor man had by this time recovered the courage to tell him, That in truth he had deferred the execution of his commands, upon considering how dif ficult a thing it would be for him to get any access to the Duke, having acquaintance with no person about him; and if he could obtain admission to him, he should never be able to persuade him that he was sent in such a manner; but he should, at least, be thought to be mad, or to be set on and employed by his own or the malice of other men, to abuse the Duke, and so he should be sure to be undone.'

"The person replied, as he had done before, 'That he should never find rest till he should perform what he r quried; and therefore he were better to dispatch it; that the access to his son was known to be very easy, and that few Gg s