conjure up, in my little solitude, your graceful form, and angel face. Farewell, beloved

friends.

"Your devoted

"JULIAN."

There was something in this letter which made Ellen's heart tremble with inexplicable hope and joy her tears fell fast as she read it; and Mr. Lindsay was scarcely less moved,

"Poor Julian," he said, as Ellen handed him the note, " noble boy! Sweet indeed are the uses of adversity. But for this change all his talents, all his virtues, would have been frittered away by soulless pleasure, or corrupted by unconquerable idleness. He would have wedded one who did not love him; and wealth would have been his curse. I value," he added, solemnly-" I value, Ellen, this bank-note, the proof of his industry, his noble endurance, his stern resolve, and the pledge of his unselfish affection for us, more than I should

a mine of gold. I would not change it for the wealth of a nation!"

Ellen blushed, as if this praise were her own, and retired to answer Julian's letter. "We are very proud of you, dear Julian," she said, "and your letter made us both smile and weep. You have replenished our funds most seasonably; for we were come to the bottom of our last bag of thalers. Grunter has generously given us up all he had. I used to judge him harshly; I did not think he would have acted so nobly. I would not teaze you, dear cousin (you whose time is now so important), but a letter from you is a great delight, a real solace! We were much amused by your soirée at the Primers; I fear you have won Miss. Susan's heart.

"The snow is melting away here, and all is green and sunny. We have seen, in this outof-the-way place, more of the real character of the people than we could have done in a capital, or a town, through which travellers

VOL. III.

L

pass, or to which visitors resort. And I must say, that, although not generally a pleasant race to live amongst, they are yet a moral and intelligent community. The great defect of their social system is the almost entire sepa ration of the men and women; and the general devotion of all the energies of the latter to mere domestic and household drudgery.

"Knitting, the lessive (a great family-wash), and the performing for their children the offices of nursery-maids -to these occupations women of fine intellect and higher tastes are by custom entirely confined; and even at Zurich, the capital of the canton, about twelve miles off, I find it is much the same.

"I think I told you that it is the habit at Winterthur to keep up through life, by a weekly réunion, a sort of intimacy between all of similar age and sex, who frequented the schools together. I rather like this plan of refreshing old associations-they add a deep interest to the journey through life.

"In England, how soon we lose sight of all who set out with us on that perilous journey! How soon, at the cross-roads of life, do the dearest friends separate! Those who climb the hills, and those who glide quietly through the valleys, never, perhaps, meet again. They have no place of rendezvous. Not so here: people do not grow old in graceless solitude, thus, doubly sensible of the miseries of Age, a jolly troop grow old together, and keep each other in countenance the while.

66

True, this system could scarcely exist among a roving people. Here all the women are stationary. The fields, through which they were carried in infancy, see them bound in childhood, or pace, in deep confidence, whispering important secrets to the eager confidante, at that age when the harmless joys of the child yield to the dreamy, unreal, yet enchanting feelings and visions of the girl. In these same fields, as stately matrons, they lead their little tribes-and here, in age, they

hobble out to sit in the sun and enjoy their impassive being. The same ball-room, where the girl made her first conquest, sees her, as a mother or a grandmother, watch the effect of her young charge's charms. Old associations, and hallowed memories, guard every spot; and therefore the people are enthusiastic in their devotion to their native town.

"Yet, we have formed some intimacies, some friendships. Our dearest friend is a Mr. R. S-, a man of rare nobility of character and generosity of heart, with a great taste for literature; he frequently comes with his charming wife, who would be considered very clever any where, and is here called the bel esprit de Winterthur, and his very young and very pretty daughters, to enliven our long Swiss evenings. Then we have another friend, a Mr. J. M. Z—, a mathematician, a linguist, and a great philanthropist, with a kind and gentle wife, of whose black eyes might be said, as of Byron's Zuleika's,

"And oh! that eye was in itself a soul !'