flowed pure from their fountains, nor habitations more agreeable than their humble cottages. They lived in happy union one with another, for nothing could excite in their breasts envy or emulation; strength had there no power, for they admired only equality, peace, and repose; nor had crowns ever been given to the most enterprising, the bravest, or most ingenious. They were not entirely ignorant, however, that other beings existed beyond the boundaries of their republic. They had often seen with horror, from the top of their rocks, several intruders; but fear and indolence kept them fixed in their tranquil abode." Soon after the visit of the Duke d'Albe, missionaries were sent into the valley, and the benevolent and peaceful doctrines of the gospel were embraced with gladness by the Battuécas. The missionaries became strongly attached to their new converts. They hollowed out, in the rocky rampart of the valley, a temple for worship, and erected a monastery, for their private studies and devotion. The church and the monastery still exist, and an unbroken succession of pious pastors have resided here since their foundation, performing the functions of priest, legislator, and physician. The Marquis and Adolphus were so much interested with the narrative of their host, that they resolved forthwith to visit the valley of the Battuècas, and they left Salamanca without delay. On entering the valley they were charmed with the bold and romantic character of the craggy enclosure, and the spirit of innocence and tranquillity that reigned within. They had passed from a world of turmoil and feverish excitement, to a scene of untroubled quiet, where their hearts found refreshment, and which seemed like a reminiscence of the age of gold. From among the inmates of this peaceful retreat, in whose character we may trace one spot of untarnished white, on the many-coloured robe of human nature, Madame de Genlis selects the hero of her story. His name is Placide. He is introduced to the Marquis and his son by Father Isidore, the superior of the convent, who, previous to the introduction, gives his visiters an account of the character of Placide, referring them to Placide himself for a recital of the adventures of his life, and a fuller description of the peculiar complexion of his feelings and opinions. On the character of this young Battuécas, Madame De Genlis says, in her preface, that she has bestowed the most profound attention. "He is

a

not," in the language of the author, " savage without reflection or judgment; nor is he a misanthrope, who sees every thing on its dark side only. He is animated with benevolence to all mankind, and enlightened by the truths of christianity, he possesses that true cultivation of mind which gives perfection to our moral ideas. Endowed with the happiest organization, born with an ardent imagination, and a noble feeling heart, he is suddenly thrown into the great world, without knowing the secrets of our arts and sciences, and entirely ignorant of our follies, customs, and manners." There, such is the enthusiasm of his feelings, and so nice is his discernment of what is just or unjust, decorous or indecorous, magnanimous or base, he is alternately filled with the most cordial admiration, or the most vehement indignation, and is confounded at the strange union, which society exhibits, of truth and error in opinion-purity and depravity, in sentiment, and rectitude and wickedness in conduct. "His censures and praises are never exaggerated, yet their energy would not be natural in a man whose habits have been familiarized from his infancy with our follies and vices; but they are strikingly just in the mouth of a Battuécas, for such must be the impressions of a rational, intelligent being, whose judgment hath never been corrupted, and who, far from being cloyed with the specious appearance of the world, must feel and enjoy its charms with avidity." This character, Placide, is plainly intended, by the inventor, to exhibit a just specimen of an uncorrupted man, of one whose reason is mature, whose active principles are in a state of healthy excitability, and whose will moves with a well-regulated energy, ready to obey with promptitude the dictates of conscience, and follow with alacrity the path of duty; in short, he is held forth as a mirror of plane surface and perfect polish, to give a faithful reflection of the forms, whether well-proportioned, or distorted, in natural and probable combination, or grotesque and enormous, which are furnished by the actual state of civilized society in Europe. Nor is this all: Placide, in his own personal history, exhibits, in a beautiful manner, how important knowledge and ac tion are to solid and permanent enjoyment, and that there is no state more incompatible with happiness than one in which the mind finds itself cramped in the exercise of its faculties, and lies, like a stranded leviathan, wasting its strength in vain endeavours to regain its natural

element. A state of mere innocence is not enough for the great ends of our being; our intellectual as well as our moral powers must be cultivated in order to invest our nature with its true dignity, and render it worthy its immortal destiny. The pursuit of knowledge and the expansion of our faculties is, doubtless, and must be, from the imperfection of our nature, attended with many dangers to virtue, but the triumph will be therefore the more glorious; it is our destiny that every wealthy place must be sought through fire and through water, and to condemn 'man to a fixed condition, no matter what may be its accompaniments, so long as it is surrounded by a barrier that cannot be surmounted, is to render his creation abortive, to blight his hopes, and strike him down from that station, "a little lower than the angels," for which he was designed. The restless impatience of a mind, bound, by the strong necessity of external circumstances, to one unchangeable condition, and its earnest struggles to get free, is well described by Madame de Genlis, in the history of Placide's youth, given by Father Isidore to his visiters, and the more full disclosure of his feelings and aspirations afterward made by Placide himself. After having described the tranquillity which had always reigned in the valley, Father Isidore pursues his narrative in the following words. "There has, however, been one exception to this love of the valley, among the Battuécas. A young man, an orphan these some years, bolder and more enterprising than his companions, hath given as great uneasiness these two years past. He is called PLACIDE:-he possesses considerable genius, and born with an ardent imagination, and a most feeling heart, he has shown from his infancy a passionate admiration for the people of the other world, (for 'tis thus the Battuécas designate the Spaniards of other cantons.) Those ingenious people,' he would say, are the inventors of all arts.' Yet here nothing is known beyond that common industry which has for its object to provide the ordinary necessaries of life. All the science of the best informed of the Battuécas goeth not beyond the elements of reading and writing. Our religious men, the instructors of this small colony, have strictly avoided bringing into this retreat any refined inventions. Divine worship, the ornaments of the church, a crucifix of stone, an image of the virgin, coarsely cut, two or three indifferent pictures, and the vocal music of the church service, have, notwithstand

ing, given to the Battućcas some ideas of sculpture, painting, and even of poetry; for we also, in our church, sing hymns in the vulgar tongue. These pieces of poetry so much struck the mind of Placide, that, at the age of fifteen years, he composed some verses himself; and these juvenile productions evinced so much talent, that I could not help putting into his hand five or six volumes of sacred poetry of our best authors. Then his enthusiam for the people of the other universe had no bounds. He has become one of the best poets of Spain, and I have had printed, unknown to him, at Madrid, selection of his poetry, without naming the author, and which hath been very generally admired. He was then twenty-two years of age. Thus this young poet, living in obscurity, had, without being aware of it, a very great reputation." His works were in every library. He was even ignorant of his talent; notwithstanding his inventive genius made him improve himself daily in the mechanical arts which had been introduced among the Battuécas, and of which he had only seen the most simple elements. He guessed at things invented for ages. But, as for him, it was creating."

At length the patience of Placide is exhausted, his curiosity is irrepressibly excited by the taste he had enjoyed of those few specimens of the refinement of the great world, which had been brought into the valley, and he determines to go to Madrid. "One day," pursued Father Isidore, "Placide came to me, saying that he was determined to make a long journey, and go to Madrid. Pray think well of it, said I, before you throw yourself without any experience upon a new world. I will know, said he, those men better informed than the Battuécas; those inventors of writing, arithmetic, and all our arts. What can I risk among them? They are christians, more culightened than we are, and therefore must be more virtuous.”

"You are determined to believe, my dear Placide, that those men, who are more learned than we, are also better; but in this you are mistaken; for I must apprize you, that in Madrid you will find vices of which you have now not the slightest idea; 'I own I cannot be persuaded of that declaration; for, it seems impossible to me, that vice and science can be allied.' Yet, my son, you must know what pride and forgetfulness of God have produced even on angels. But with revelation and the sublime morality of the gospel, how can mortal men, whose residence on earth is so short, fall upon those

dreadful wanderings of the heart? Pride hath overcome immortal creatures, who knew God through his magnificence alone. We shudder at their ingratitude, but it is less inconceivable than would be the same culpability in fragile beings, doomed to death, and who, with the full knowledge of the goodness and the supreme power of the Deity, are also aware of his much dreaded justice. In short, I am determined, and I have been so this long time.' All the arguments of Father Isidore to induce Placide to remain in the valley were ineffectual, and he departed in company with Don Pedro, a nephew of Father Isidore, who had come on purpose to conduct him to Madrid. Placide was twenty-three years of age when he for the first time left the sheltering precincts of his native valley. The first incident which gives him any insight into the new principles, among which he has just arrived, is one that occurs at the second post, while the carriage is waiting for a change of horses. Here he is first made acquainted with the idea of property, for in the valley every thing, all the fruits of the earth and the increase of the flocks was enjoyed in common. The incident referred to is thus related by Placide to the Marquis and Adolphus. "Don Pedro was sleeping most profoundly, and I was leaning on the door of the carriage, looking with curiosity on every thing which presented itself to mine eyes. We were at the extremity of the village, and directly opposite to a baker's shop, when a woman covered with rags, and carrying two young children in her arms, approached our vehicle, and begged alms of me, saying in a lamentable voice "That she and her children were dying with hunger.' What! cried I, do not you see that quantity of loaves? go and take some.-Alas! I will not be suffered.' How? said I; in the situation you are in?-Upon saying these words, I opened the carriage door, jumped out, flew towards the baker's shop, and seized a large loaf, giving it to the poor woman; at the same time saying to the baker, my good friend, you see I have not taken this loaf for myself, it is for this woman, who is poor, and complains she is hungry. 'Pay me then for it,' replied the baker; I cannot, I have no money; I tell you again, it is for this unfortunate woman. We have many other poor, and I cannot give to all,' said the baker. As long as you see any poor and have bread, you must give it, said I. You only sell it to the rich to enable you to supply the poor. 'In this manner,' quoth the baker, our trade would truly go on

well.'-Yes! said I, for God would bless it. At these words, the poor woman, fearing the resentment of the baker, wished to return the loaf, which he was going to take hold of, offering her a smaller one; but I opposed it. She shall have the one I chose for her, cried I, dragging the larger loaf out of the hands of the baker, who furious, instantly called his two men servants, and they came running to his as sistance. I valiantly defended myself with the very loaf I had made a conquest of; I broke it upon the baker's shoulders, whom I threw down, and overturned at the same time one of his men; I seized the other by the throat, and hurled him to the other end of the shop. My physical strength filled them with fear, and I was left master of the field of battle, when Don Pedro, awakening by the noise this scuffle made, ran up to me to demand an explanation.

"I was so confounded that he did not partake of my indignation against the baker that I remained immoveable and dumb. Besides I had, for the first time in my life, put myself in a passion; for in the valley, it hath not been known that any ever quarrelled or fought. I was as uneasy as I was angry, for I feared I had dangerously wounded my adversaries; but I soon saw, to my great pleasure, that they had escaped with only a few slight contusions. Don Pedro easily appeased them by his liberality, and gave also to the poor woman the loaf I had broken in her cause, and some money besides.

"Every one was satisfied except myself; for passion still suffocated me, and I was sorry at having ill treated my fellow creatures."

After the travellers had re-seated themselves in their carriage, and as they were proceeding on their journey, Don Pedro took the opportunity to explain to Placide the nature of the distinction of property, and the absolute necessity of giving to each individual, in large communities, an exclusive power over the products of his labour and whatever he may acquire in exchange for them. The argument, on this subject, is plainly and forcibly stated by Don Pedro, and produces entire conviction in the mind of Placide, who takes up the train of thought furnished by the discussion, and pursues it in a beautiful manner to some of its finest and most elevating conclusions. Don Pedro urges the importance of the distinction of property, not only because the state of society to which it leads is productive of a far greater number of desirable tempo

ral results than would be attainable without such distinction, but because it is more consonant to the spirit of true religion; and goes on to remark that "virtue can shine with all her beauties only among civilized nations." "Yes," exclaims Placide, "I perceive the more man rises by bis virtues and his genius, the more effectually he fulfils the views of his Creator, who hath animated him with his divine breath. To extend as far as possible our intellectual faculties, is one of our chief religious duties, and fulfils also the end of our destiny on earth. God hath made nothing in vain, and the virtuous employment of our physical and moral powers, is, without doubt, in his sight a worthy homage of our gratitude. Human industry honours the Creator, since it brings into action every faculty we have received from his goodness. To remain, therefore, wilfully in ignorance, is to despise and reject his benefits. God gave us the empire of the world, because man alone, of all the animated creation, can cultivate the earth and compel her to disclose those treasures which are hidden in her bosom. Without man the magnificence of the earth would be useless as if it did not exist; and treasures are scattered over her surface, or hidden in her bowels to be the objects of our admiration or of our discovery." "Without doubt," said Don Pedro, "every beauty of creation must command our tribute of admiration, and, therefore, those arts which develope and employ them are of divine origin. We may say the same of all sciences. Their mysterious elements are all found in nature; we are able to discover certain laws and their results, and to make from them useful applications; but the primary cause remains concealed, and will always be inexplicable. Like the bountiful Nile, which fertilizes the land it overflows, but the source of which is unknown; science spreads its beneficent influences among those who cultivate it, but the source remains unexplored; the wonderful cause of so many admirable effects is in the all-powerful hand of the Creator, and is now, and, always will be hid from us by an impenetrable veil." Placide listened with rapture, and soon forgot his anger and indignation. "These reflections," exclaimed he, "are sweet and consoling! To those who know how to admire the sublime works of the Eternal, they will never fail to yield delight and consolation. This noble creature, who owes his existence to immortal thought and infinite love, man, created to know and worship the author of so many

wonders, will ever live. His gratitude is the sure pledge of his happy immortality, since it is a part of the glory of the benefactor, and no part of this glory will ever be annihilated." "You perceive, then," replied Don Pedro, "that a state of ignorance and idleness, in which every thing is in common, is not the state for which man was created, since it favours only those individuals who are destitute of genius and industry." Placide assented, and promised that he would not again be guilty of theft, and that he would strike no more bakers who should stand up in defence of their property. The travellers arrived at Madrid in the night, and Placide being much fatigued by the unaccustomed mode of conveyance hastened to bed. But he could not sleep for the very reason which probably contributed most to the repose and refreshment of Don Pedro, that is, the softness of the bed, and he lay awake all night. He appear ed so ill the next day that it was proposed to send for a physician. 'No, if you will take from me this fine bed, and all its useless furniture," said he, "and allow me to make more use of my legs, and give me less of your dainty fare, I shall soon recover my health." Madrid was to the young Battuécas a scene of wonders; his imagination was dazzled by the splendour, and bewildered and fatigued by the variety of the objects which thronged around him on every side. Soon after his arrival he visited, in company with his friend, one of the principal churches in Madrid, and the impression produced upon his feelings is natural, and forcibly described. While remaining to view the temple, and examine the fine paintings with which it was decorated, after the worshippers had departed, he discovered a female figure, veiled, and kneeling in the attitude of prayer by the side of a superb monument of white marble. This lady was Donna Bianca Xenila, a young widow of surprising beauty, fine talents, and rare virtue. Placide falls violently in love with her, and though his passion is returned, he cannot marry her, for he had engaged himself to a young virgin of the valley before his departure. The effect produced on his character by this new object of admiration and attachment is finely described, and furnishes an occa sion for the author to discover her profound knowledge of the human heart. In contrasting the two characters of Donna Bianca, and Inés, the Battuécan virgin, Madame de Genlis has beautifully and truely shown how insufficient is mere personal beauty to secure a deep-felt and un

alterable love, and how mighty the influence of woman is rendered by associating with the facination of form, a cultivated understanding, and an enlarged heart.

them alone sufficient to fill his time with occupation, nor satisfy his desires, for he wanted the stimulus of praise from those who could "appreciate his performances. Virtue is, to a considerable extent, its own reward; though it may derive some ardour from the breath of praise, yet it will gain from it no addition to its selfsatisfying power, and its light will waver if visited by that breath too roughly; but the intellect and the imagination require. the excitement of competition; glory is their reward, and they must receive their laurels from the hand of admiration.

Just before Placide ventured forth from the valley a second time he was surprised by a visit from two strangers. These were the Baron d'Olmár, (mentioned in the beginning of the story as the friend of the Countess Auberive,) and his niece Leontine, the early and most intimate friend of Calista and Adolphus. During this visit Placide learned from. the Baron that the Countess Auberive had died at Bayonne on her flight from Paris, that Calista had been seized by the agents of the Directory and carried back to Paris, where, after languishing for a time in prison she was brought to the guillotine, and that Adolphus, though he still cherished the memory of Calista with the sincerest tenderness, had not found himself able to resist the charms of Leontine, who had indeed always loved him, and that they would be married as soon as the Baron and his niece should arrive in France. The manner in which Calista met her fate, and the magnanimous efforts of Leontine to save her, are deeply interesting, not merely be cause the events in themselves are afflicting, but because they impressively illus trate the energies of our nature, and the sustaining power of righteous principles animated by virtuous affection.

One morning when his time of his absence from the valley had expired, and as he was suffering the most acute distress from the struggle between his sense of duty to Inés, and his vehement love for Donna Bianca, he received a letter from Father Isidore, informing him that Inés had eloped with a stranger "who came in the dusk of evening, and whose stay was so short that no one learned his name." This released Placide from his vows, and left him and Donna Bianca at liberty to marry. On the very eve, however, when the marriage ceremony was to be performed, when the offering on the altar of Hymen was just about to be kindled by love's own torch, and the temple filled with its incense, it was discovered that Inés had not forgotten her engagement with Placide, that she had been decoyed from the valley by falsehood and deceit, and that she was now confined in a neighbouring castle, under the idea that she was in the care of religious people, and was preparing to take the veil. This was no sooner known to Placide and Donna Bianca, than in obedience to duty, and the impulse of their generous nature, they determined to restore the innocent Inés to liberty and happiness, though it would be at the expense of their own perpetual separation. "Dear Placide," said Donna Bianca, "religion, honour, humanity, command us to act with zeal and promptitude; this is no time for sorrow and tears; let us fulfil our duty, and we shall rise superior to the chastisements of fate." Placide soon after the recovery of Inés marries her, and returns with her to the valley. After some time had been allowed for the mitigation of recent sorrow, and after the consciousness of having acted right had applied its healing efficacy to the lacerated hearts of Donna Bianca and Placide, and left the former at leisure to reflect upon her situation in life, and the claims which society still held upon her abundant means of usefulness, she resolved not to abandon herself to despair, and at the instance of Placide in the first place, was ultimately united to Don Pedro. In the course of time, Don Pedro and Donna Bianca were blessed with a daughter, and Placide and Ines with a son. Six years elapsed before Placide again left the valley. In this interval he devoted himself to the study of the arts, but did not find

The occasion of Placide's second departure from the valley was his hearing that war had broken out in Spain, and his consequent anxiety for the welfare of Don Pedro and Donna Bianca. He set out for Madrid, but on his way he received information that his friends were still in France; his journey to the capital of Spain would not only be fruitless, there fore, but, from the hostile troops, which beset the roads, would be attended with the greatest danger, and after about a week's absence he returned to his family. During this short period, however, he met with several interesting adventures, and had many of those opportunities which war furnishes in such lamentable frequency, of displaying his hu