I was struck with the pathetic earnestness || could, I thought, proceed only from fear, and of his tone, and the little anger that I had felt I felt an involuntary sentiment of contempt died away; we walked home together, and | for him. Dever had I seen him exert himself so much | “Do you not think,” cried he, hesitating, to appear agreeable, he was more ani. " that it might be possible to accommodate mated than I had ever beheld him; and I the matter?” could not help saying, “ It is well, Simours, “ I do not see how you can,” replied I.-"I that you did not turn your artillery against did not intend to offend him,” replied he. the heart of Nina, for she could not have re “That may be,” cried I; “but you certainly sisted you."

did offend him, and the manner in wbich be “ Do you think so," cried he, in a tone | let you know you bad done so, was such as of pleasure ; and then pausing—"She is a good wo man who did not wish to be branded for a girl," continued he, “and is much better dis- | coward, could pass over with calmness." posed of than she would have been with either He was silent for a few moments, and he of us."

then burst into a phillipic against duelling. In fact, in a few days Nina and her lover “All that you have said,” cried I, interruptwere united, and Simours and myself con- || ing him, “ is very just; but men who live in tinued as good, or rather better friends than the world cannot act in direct opposition to its ever.

laws; all that can be done, is to be as careful One evening we were together at a coffee. | as possible not to get into scrapes of this nahouse, when a gentleman entered, who was ture; but if a man is unhappily entangled in well known for bis talent of gasconading; he one, he must act with spirit or submit to be began to relate a very marvellous story, to || despised.which Simours listened with a look of arcb | I spoke with marked emphasis ; Simours incredulity, that did not escape his attention ; made no reply, and in a few minutes we reachthough a vain boaster, he was not deficient ed home; he walked with me into my apartin courage.—* You look as if you doubted ment, and for a short time he strove to conmy veracity, Sir," said he, to Simours.

verse with an appearance of ease; presently, “Not at all, Sir;” replied my friend;“ I have however, he bade me good night ; he held out no doubts, I assure you."

his band as he spoke :-"God bless you, dear Simours' marked, though perhaps uncon De Versenay,” cried he, as I gave him mine, scious emphasis, offended bim.-" Hark'ec, | wbich be pressed with fervour; the tone of Sir," cried he, “it is my way to chastise im. his voice, and the look which accompanied pertinence; I shall be glad to see you at six | this action, subdued me, and I felt for him at to-morrow morning, at the bottom of the mea. || that moment a sepsation which I know not dow in which you was walking when I met how to describe. you to-das-you understand me.”

“ Poor fellow,” thought I, when he had Simours bowed, and his antagonist went | retired, “it is not his fault that he is deficient away directly; Simours and myself also retired in personal courage, which after all is merely in a few minutes.

constitutional, and how many good and ami“ This is an unpleasant business," said I, || able qualities does he possess to counterbawhen we had left the coffee-house ; " and I ance this one defect." I now began to corwish it could have been avoided, but now

| sider whether it was possible to accommodate there is no possibility of refusing to give this matters; but the more I reflected the less pappy satisfaction, and unluckily he is an ex- ll likelihood I saw of it. I did not undress, but cellent swordsman ; you will want a friend, | threw myself for an hour in my cloaths on my and I shall accompany you of course." Ubed, and at half after five I tapped at Si.

“ Simours had passed his arm through mours' door; I found that he had also passed mine, and I was both burt and surprised to the night without undressing. He said he perceive that he trembled; it was too dark / was ready, and we set out for tbe meadow. for me to perceive his face, but his emotion In spite of all the pains that Simours took No. XXVIII. Vol. V.-N.S.


to preserve an appearance of composure, his y precaution to bring a carriage with bim, and terror was apparent, and I began to fear that he and his second assisted me to convey Si. bis cowardice would expose him to some op- ll mours,who was still insensible, to it; when we probrious usage from his antagovist, which had placed him in it I opened his shirt collar would cover him with everlasting odium. Du.ll to give him air; but what became of me when val (for that was his name) was already on a glance at the loveliest bosom in the world the ground; he advanced to meet us, and I convinced me that Simours, my dear Simours, whispered to Simours, “ For God's sake recol. was a woman! lect yourself."

No, my friends, it is not possible for me to It was precisely six o'clock." Good morn- ll give you an idea of my feelings at tbat mo. ing, geutlemen," said Duval; “ I have waited ment; the cowardice which liad provoked my for you for some time;" he spoke in rather a anger was now naturally accounted for, and yet rude tone, and I replied with asperity :-"That | to prevent danger to my life, she had risked her was unnecessary, Sir, for we are punctual." own: she loved me; yes, it was plain that a

In fact, an idea occurred to me, that it sentiment more tender than friendship, must might be possible for me to extricate my poor have impelled her to act so contrary to the nalittle friend, by taking the affair upon my tural timidity of her sex ; these reflections self._“You are mistaken, Sir," cried be, I were only momentary. She opened ber eyes, taking out his watch,“ it is considerably past and by an instinct of natural modesty, she the time.”—“ Your watch is wrong," replied closed her shirt which I bad left unfastened. 1.-" That cannot be," said he ; “ for 1 set “ Ah!" said she, in a faint voice, “ you it myself.”—“ How, Sir,” cried I, with pre know my secret!” tended indignation, “ do you dare to insinuate | “Would to Heaven," exclaimed I, pasthat I speak falsely? I insist upon satisfac- || sionately, “that I bad known it sooner! tion.”—“ You shall have it,” said he, coolly, Why, oh! why were you thus rasb ?” « when I have done with this young gevtle She could not reply, for she had again map.” As that was precisely what I wished || fainted, and the wound bled so profusely, that to prevent, I pretended to be transported be- I was terrified lest she should expire before I yond all bounds, and stepping up to him, I could get assistance. gave him a box on the ear, at the same time I directed the coachman to the house of an saying, “ Defend yourself."

eminent surgeon, who lived near the meaYou may be sure he did not wait to be dow; he was fortunately at home : I hastily desired a second time, and our swords were | told him the sex of the supposed Chevalier, out in a twinkling, when Simonrs threw him. / and besought him to tell me whether the 86lf between us.

wound was dangerous. “ Hola!” cried he, “what would you do? « Not at all,” cried he, after he had ex. remember, De Versenay, that I have a prior amined it; “it is a mere scratch, and I have claim to redress. I insist upon your waiting no doubt that it will be well in a few dresthe issue of our encounter. Come on, Sir,” cried | sings.” be, to Duval, and drawing his sword, he threw She now opened her eyes, and perceiving himself in an attitude of defence. Though Ill her situation, she made an effort to free her*as exceedingly pleased with the spirit which 1) self from the hauds of the surgeon, who was he shewed, yet as I thought it was only as busy about the wound. sumed, I was very unwilling to let them pro I advanced, and begged ber to submit to ceed; but my little timorous friend now ap- l have it dressed ; at the sight of me her lovely peared a very Mars, and he insisted so ve faee was crimsoned, but she made no opposihemently on bis right of precedence, that I | tion, and I retired while the operation was sheathed my sword.

performing. The second pass, Simours was run through | As soon as it was over she sent for me. the body; I flew to support him, and he “ I am impatient" said she, “ to account for fainted in my arms. Duval had taken the" the disguise you have seen me in, and to

assure you that I have not worn it from any || oftener than once; but I was soon reconciled unworthy motive."

to a change of habit which preserved me from “Of that,” cried I, “ I am assured; but do positive misery that must have attended my not talk now, it may burt you."

union with the Chevalier, and which was the "No," replied she, “ the surgeon says I am cause of my acquiring your friendship.” As in no danger; and, indeed, I believe my faint she spoke the last words sbe blushed. ing proceeded principally from my fright, ll “Talk not of friendship,” cried I, throwing which I may now," continued she, smiling, I myself on my knees, and seizing her hand“ acknowledge was very great.”

“the sentiment which I feel for you is a “I am," said she, “the last branch of a thousand times more tender; condescend tben, noble and affluent family; my parents died | dear Simours (for I knew not what else to call while I was yet very young, and I was left her), lo accept a heart which is entirely deunder the guardianship of a distant relation,

Il voted to you, and give me a right to free you the Chevalier Florival: this man, who was for ever from this odious guardian who would nearly old enough to be my grandfather, des- ll have sacrificed you." tived my hand for himself; and as soon as I ll “ Softly,” said she, “ my fortune is entirely had arrived at an age to be married, he told ll in his power, and " me so; it was in vain that I pleaded my aver- il “Do not speak of fortune,” cried I, in. sion to him, he was incapable of love, and terrupting her ;“ mine, though small, is suffi. the possession of my person and my fortune cient for our happiness. Ah! Heaven knows was fully sufficient to satisfy bis desires; and that fortune has no share in the wish I feel to tbat, he told me frankly, he was determined call you mine.” to have. You may believe that I was not dis “I do believe you, De Versenay,” cried she, posed to acquiesce in a measure which would with a smile of pleasure ;“ but in a few months reader me miseralle for life ; but it was sometbis man's power will be at an end; until then time before I could determine how to disap- ll I must seek a respectable asylum, for you may point him ; I had been brought up in seclu. | suppose that I shall nut again resume my dis. sion, and I had no friends to whom I could guise, and as soon as I am mistress of my for. apply; I might indeed have taken refuge in tune, that and the band of Celestine D'Alema couveat, but to say the truth, I wanted to || bert shall be yours.” see a little of the world; in short, after con || In fact, five months afterwards my Celestine sidering and reconsidering, I was of opinion | gave herself to me, and from that day to the that by assuming a male habit, I should present, I may truly say that I have been effectually prevent the possibility of my guar. || blest with one of the best of wives. Duval dian discovering me, and that I should also left Paris, as I believe, for America, and we bave an opportunity, which I otherwise could have never since heard of him ; to him, hownot, of seeing the world ; to be brief, I wade ever, I owed the happiness of knowing how my escape, and my mother's diamonds, which dear I was to my Celestine. And now, my I bad in my possession, amply supplied me | friends, do you not agree with me, that the with the means to live for some considerable || felicity which I at present enjoy may be said time; I must owu that at first I found myself to spring, in a great measure, from my giving very awkward, and I regretted my petticoats "Duval a box on the ear.


We now proceed to a tree whose elegance, majestic height, as fiom its wide spreading must often have been admired; not indige- sbade forming masses of a deep brown on nous, but completely oaturalized, and forming nature's verdant carpet. If we were inclined an ornamental variety in our lawns and plea- to go back to sacred authority for notices of sure grounds; not indeed so much from its this elegant evergreen, we might produce a


Ĩ doubt our fair readers are well acquainted, snow, at the bottom whereof the high cedar particularly in the Songs of the royal Psalmist, trees were standing: and though this hill bath who makes many allusions to the wide spread. || in former ages been quite covered over withi ing branches of the

trees, yet they are since so decreased, that I CEDAR OF LEBANON.

could tell no more than twenty-four.”—But He, indeed, was more correct in his allusions

Maundrell, our own countryman, who visited

that mountain in the year 1696, informs us that than our own Paradisaical poet, who seems not to have strictly attended to the figure of

“having gone for three hours across the plain,

I arrived at the foot of Libanus; and from this tree, when he describes it as affording in

thence continually ascending, not without

great fatigue, came in four hours and a half “lusuperable height of loftiest shade.”

to a small village called Eden, and in two Shakespeare, however, has noticed it more hours and half more, to the cedars. These accurately where, in his Henry VIII. he says,

noble trees grow amongst the snow, near the “ He shall flourish, and like a mountain cedar

highest part of Libanus; and are as remarkreach bis branches to all the plains about

able as well for their own age and largeness as him."

for those frequent allusions made to them in From this we may very justly conclude that the word of God. Here are some of them very Shakespeare had seen this tree, and therefore

old, and of a prodigious bulk, and others that it must have been introduced into Eng- younger of a smaller size. Of the former I land before his time; now, indeed, there are could reckon up only sixteen; and the latter more of the cedars of Lebanon in this country

| are very numerous. I measured one of the than on their native soil, where their scarcity largest, and found it twelve yards and six may in some measure have proceeded from inches in girt, and yet sound, aad thirty seven the devastation produced by Solomon's four- l yards in the spread of the boughs. At about score 'thousand hewers employed in cutting | five or six yards from the ground it was divid. the timber for the Temple at Jerusalem: for i ed into five limbs, each of which was equal to as our own immortal poet expressess it in his a great tree.” Henry VI.“ Thus yields the cedar to the axe's Of those which are now so frequent in edge!"

England, it is impossible to say that they are The few Christians who now inhabit the actually the descendants of those on mount neighbourhood of that almost sacred monnt, || Lebanon, although the seed was certainly endeavour with a most religious strictness to first brought from the Levant; because that preserve the few remaining trees, some of cedars have been found in other places; and if which may even have been in existence in we are to believe Belon, the same species of tree Solomon's time, or may at least be the first

has been found indigenous on the mountains generation descended from them, for their

of Taurus and Amaurus. However this may longevity is proved by a well attested fact, ||

be, whoever bas once seen this tree must easi. that in the discovery of the Temple of Apollo,

ly recognise it again, as it has such a peculiar at Utica, near Carthage, cedar timber was

appearance that no other can possibly be misfound in good preservation which must have

taken for it, except perhaps the larch, though been two tbousand years old. That some of

even there, there is a difference easily descern. the scriptural cedars are now, or at least were

ible. This outward similarity, as well as their in existence little more than a century ago, sexual agreement, has fully justified Linneus may be well imagined from the observations in classing them both with the firs and pines, of two travellers of good repute. In 1575, wbich, together with the larch, form the genus Ranwolf, a German, tells us :-“ We found of Pinus Cedrus. This tree we must therefore ourselves upon the highest part of the moun. designate as being in the class of MONÆCI A tain, and saw nothing higher" (wbich by the MONADELPHIA, aud in the natural order bye is something like a German bull) “ but ll of Conifere. Like the specimen in the foregoing lecture, it also has the male and being only found there in the coldest parts, female flowers separate, though on the same particularly on Mount Lebanon, amidst snows plant: in generic character the male flowers that are almost eterpal. The experiment too are disposed ja racemes, and the calyx consists has been fairly tried here, that this species of merely of the scales of tbe opening bud; they ll the cedar will thrive better on a meagre strong have no corolla; the stamen has many fila | soil, than if planted in a rich loamy earth, a ments connected into an upright column at ll fuct which every one must be aware of that the bottom, though divided at top; whilst the has ever seen those elegant specimens that anthers are arid and naked: the female calyx surround the gothic towers of Warwick has the strobile subovate, and consisting of Castle. And though at first we were indebted Iwo flowered scales, oblong, permanent, rigid | to the countries bordering on the Levant for and imbricate; there is no female corolla; and the seeds, yet now so completely is it naturalthe pistil has a very small germ, the style is ized, that we are certain of a vever-failing awl-shaped, and the stigma simple. The fe

supply from our own trees, which have also male Aoweret has no pericarp, the strobile the singular property of producing the ripest serving that purpose, having before been the

cones in the severest winters! Tbat the cedar calyx. In essential character the male calyx

of Lebanon may become highly useful as timis four leaved, the female strobile two flowerber, we have no doubt, though perhaps we do ed; the corolla in both is wanting; the inale

not give implicit credit to all the various prois marked by the number of its filaments in the l perties it is said to possess; these have been stamen, with naked anthers, and the female

described to be, the power of resisting putreby baving only one pistil. These remarks faction, of destroying noxious insects, of conalso apply in a great measure to the whole

tinuing sound for several thousand years, of genus, of which there are no less than twenty

yielding an oil extremely efficacivus in preove species. It is to be hoped that the culti. Il serving books and writings, &c. way, it is said valiou of this elegant tree will become more

10 purify the air by i's efluvia, and to inspire prevalent in England, as well as in other parts

worshippers with solemn awe when applied of the United Kingdom, as there is no doubt

to the wainscotting of churches and chapels! of its being both ornamental and useful il

We will not presume to expatiate on the bewhen planted even on the most barren and nefits which might result from this latter apbleakest mountaios, wbere, in fact, perhapsplication, but we think enough has been said few other trees will grow so well; this, ali to recommend it to the patronage of our fethough a native of a more southern climate, male botanists.


(Continued from Vol. IV. Page 183.)

NOTHING could have been more fortunale,, and characters were more freely detailed, and for the scheme of St. Hypolite than the hassy | tlae names of places and persons no longer departure of Aldonga; bis surprise and emo concealed. He learned with painful pleasure tion at the discovery of his friend's real name, that the fither of his friend had indeed been would have betrayed bim to eyes so penetrat. ll the object of his mother's first attachment; ing as hers; to tbe aged and otherwise ocru- | the likeness of face and figure which had pied Bertolinj this agitation seemed to arise caused her such emotion bad not been the solely from esteem for his family; and without | mere creation of fancy. Lorenzo was the son waiting for an ioquiry he proceeded to inform of that Sulerno so deir and so unfortunate; Francois of all he could wish to know. Deep and doubly precious would he uow be in the was the interest which the young Francois light of her son-in-law. took in bis narrative; it accorded strictly it “Happiness must never come unalloyed !" with that of Lorenzo, except that the events ll observed Count Bertoliui after a pause. “I

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