features of the face would have been decidedly handsome but for their extreme emaciation; and the finely expansive and lofty forehead might have been deemed noble but for the excessive severity of the habitually contracted brow. CHAPTER III. FORMING A MIND. still lustrous eye; drooping and bent that once so elastic form. And when, about three months before her confinement, the horrors of imprisonment, under such circumstances, and for the sake of that faith, which had already made her suffer so much in this cheerless and unhappy land, was added to the load she was called upon to bear, it seemed to be the last drop in the already too full cup of her sorrows. The vigourous organization of her frame, however, did not sink before she had given birth to her infant. But that was the last effort of nature's exhausted energies. She never rallied afterwards; and at the expiration of rather less than a year from the birth of her child, Bartenau and his friend Riberac remained in prison she breathed her last sigh within those same dreary | till the period of the king's death, which occurred in prison walls. The last resting-place of that poor 1643. The D'Aubignés had long since been suffered worn-out form, which nature had fashioned of her to return to such liberty as could then be found in daintiest handyworks to be the fitting dwelling-place of so bright a spirit, was chosen by the bigoted intelerance of persecutors, who would fain have carried their hatred beyond the grave, in a dark, obscure, and sunless corner of the prison yard. Haired, impotent, at length, as well as odious! France, on giving an extorted promise of embracing Catholicism. To avoid the necessity of keeping this promise the Sieur D'Aubigné sailed for Martinique, carrying with him his wife and the infant, for whom fate was reserving so extraordinary and so brilliant a fortune in the land she was now leaving a proscribed fugitive. A different lot awaited the other prisonborn child. They never met again-those two infant playmates, Françoise D'Aubigné and Pauline Bartenau; but from the time of that parting in the prison of Niort went forward on their widely divergent paths of life, each to accomplish the course marked Well! Françoise D'Aubigné went to Martinique ; and Pauline Bartenau remained in prison at Niort. Great history has charged herself with recording the subsequent fortunes of the former. It is the business of this historiette to preserve, ere it has quite perished from the memory of tradition, the, perhaps, equally instructive story of the latter. Jacques Bartenau would far rather have gone forth from the prison to martyrdom, than have escaped from it by such a promise as D'Aubigné had given. And when he and the preacher were left behind by their patrician fellow-prisoner, they solaced their captivity with grim reflections that the world knew its own, and God doubtless knew his own also. Few words will be needed to make the reader sufficiently acquainted with Andrè Riberac, the Huguenot minister of Niort. He was one of a class of men often painted by the delineators of character, who has found it easy to produce an effective portrait of an original, in which every line is strongly and deeply marked, which requires no delicate lights and sha-out for her. dows, no modifications of temperament difficult to seize, and which, hard and firm itself, may be best outlined by an artist of hard and firm hand. Andrè Riberac was a true, a genuine bigot. An ardent, eager, and powerful, yet narrow mind, an atrabilious temperament, a hard heart, and a spirit rigid with pride of the same cast as that which exiled Lucifer from heaven-these were the qualifications that made the Niort preacher as fierce a bigot as ever hated. He was an eminently pious man; he was sincere frightfully sincere in his belief in the horrible doctrines he taught; he had suffered much persecution for his adherence to those doctrines; and he stood extremely high in the opinion of all those of his sect throughout the west of France. His mind was habitually occupied with the contemplation of "heavenly things" that is, he was ever gloating over the picture of the eternal torments of those whom he hated in this life. From those vices which arise from frailties of humanity, or from bodily self-indulgence of any kind, Andrè Riberac was free. Indefatigable, rigidly abstemious, careless of wealth, the preacher had none of these faults, because he was all bigot. His religion occupied the whole man. And, perhaps, rarely has there lived in self-complacency a soul less fitted by its earthly pilgrimage for communion with its Makerless capable of conceiving a worthy idea of the universal Father-in a word, less godly, than that of the correct and zealous preacher. So for eight years, till the year 1643 that is, the little Pauline grew, and learned between these two stern men. Well! a graver, a grimmer, more serious, and more joyless education never poor child had. Yet it was a gay, happy-hearted, and laughter-loving little creature. Good kindly Dame Nature had clearly set herself against the two grave and reverend seniors, in the matter of forming this child's mind and temperament. It was like to be a toughly contested match; but with at least two to one in favour of Mother Nature. Meanwhile the little object of the struggle seemed to suffer less in thus being pulled two different ways than might have been imagined. The fact is, that Dame Nature was taking it easy; The personal appearance of the preacher was de-and those who are in the habit of watching her ways, cidedly favorable, though there was that about it and observing the development of her operations, which would have prevented most physiognomists might have foreseen that in this case she was sure to from pronouncing it pleasing. His figure was tall, win. and not without dignity, though thin to emaciation, Time wore on, and at length came the liberation and of extreme rigidity. The eye was the feature of of Jacques Bartenau the merchant, and Andrè Ribehis face that first arrested the attention of a stranger, rac the preacher, from their long imprisonment. and held it long. It was deep and black, and might They walked forth amid their fellow-citizens once almost be called flaming, so incessant, so habitual more, self-contained, unexulting, and sternly calm. was its fierce and ever-eager expression. The other The grievous infliction of nearly ten years' confine ment within the walls of a prison had been borne by | And it must content us to describe, and that very these men with stern unshrinking fortitude, as a imperfectly, the general results of this time-education, heaven-sent infliction, destined to prove the constancy as observable at a given point in its progress. Nature of their faith and christian heroism. And the endu- had truly intended Pauline Bartenau for one of her rance of it was not embittered to them by the choicest creations. burning indignation, the stinging sense of wrong and injustice, which such treatment would awaken in the breasts of men of other days, and other modes of thinking. townsmen, Coming forth as martyrs among their admiring neither of the two friends had much difficulty in stepping back into that social position which they had occupied before their imprisonment. The widowed merchant returned to his ware-rooms and counting-house, and the preacher to his old avocations | amid his congregation. To the little Pauline the difference, consequent on this change in her place of dwelling, rather than in her mode of life, was for some years at least but small. A female governante, indeed, was employed to susperintend her education and moral development. But this person was of course chosen with a special view to her religious opinions and qualifications. It was difficult for the little Pauline to love her father; so little was there to attract, so much to repel the tender, easily-wounded heart-shoots of a child's affection in the hard, cold man. Yet Pauline did love her father; for hers was a loving nature, and her heart had nought else to cling to. CHAPTER IV. A FATHER AND DAUGHTER. And how had grown the spiritual nature of this fair creature amid the influences, exclusively of one description, which we know had ever surrounded it? It is said that the infant mind is as a sheet of white paper ready to receive whatever characters the first comer may trace thereon-as virgin wax, ready to assume whatever form it may please the hand which can first seize it to impart. Yet plastic as the infant mind may be, it is not so simple and easy a matter to fashion it entirely according to the will of those who may seem to have the most uncontrolled power to direct it. Its very impressionability foils the educator. Influences unseen, untraceable, whose approach the utmost, vigilance can no more prevent than it can that of the circumambient air, assist, modify, or mar the efforts of him who would assume the responsibility of forming a mind. The intellectual powers which he himself has awakened and called into action may, in their free operation, which he has no longer the power to control, fight against him. Nay, his own efforts, unskilfully applied, or injudiciously enforced, not unfrequently produce results exactly the reverse of those which they have intended to bring about. The young mind is truly as plastic as new wax; but it is often forgotten that it is not equally passive. It is forgotten that every touch produces on its delicate impressionability results which it is difficult for the most experienced to foresee. The educational efforts of Jacques Bartenau and his female and male assistant had not been crowned with success. The ethical and religious system which it had been the object of their united endeavors to inculcate had been rejected by the mind of the pupil. Gradually, estrangement grew up between them. It could not have been otherwise. The rebellious child was to him as a lost sheep. And what was the effect of such an education and Thus time wore on; and the Huguenot's daughter, from being a merry, happy, lovely child, became a lovely, but not very happy or cheerful young woman. Externally matters had changed but little with her during this lapse of years. The same vinegar-faced and verjuice-hearted old maid had been her duenna and constant companion. Her father's society, aus-such a position on the unhappy girl herself! The tere and almost morose as he was, relieved in some degree the odious monotony of the many tête-a-tête hours poor Pauline was constrained to spend with her unamiable governante during such brief intervals of leisure as his business allowed him. And the family circle was rarely increased or diversified, save by the frequent visits of the preacher Riberac. What a home for a young girl just entering into the brightest springtide of her existence! and one too, whom nature had endowed with a mind as bright as the laughing dark-blue eye it lighted up, and with a spirit intended to be as gay as ever dwelt in a youthful heart. Alas! poor Pauline, her lot was surely cast in a stony place! In the meanwhile, Time, which had done its work so well and featly on her person, had also been silently and gradually at work on the development of her mind. Could the whole process of Time's schooling with its every influence, its every lesson, its every cause, and every effect in the formation of a mind be faithfully written down, the recital would fill more volumes than do our most voluminous encyclopedias of all human knowledge, and the volumes would yet be well worth the reading. But as well might one sit down by a sapling to watch its growth into an oak. fallaciousness of the only guides she had having become manifest to her, she was left without guidance to find or make a path for herself. And worse than this, her whole experience of the hearts and opinions of those who preached and taught religion, had been such as to leave her mind impressed with no very high opinion of the vital importance of religion itself, in the conduct of life and the formation of character. From her cradle upwards, every idea of religion which had reached her mind had reached it in connexion with ideas of persecution, hatred, and bigotry. The doctrines of her father's sect were loathsome to her unperverted heart; and the palpable absurdities of the Roman faith, together with the nature of the deeds it produced and sanctioned, had been too often and too forcibly pointed out to her, to leave any possibility of her embracing Catholicism. Such was the condition and position of Pauline Bartenau when she reached her twentieth year. That she was beautiful, surpassingly beautiful, has already been intimated. Let each reader complete the sketch to his mind's eye according to his fancy. But when his imagination shall have presented to him his beau ideal of beauty, let him, if his conception is to person'ate adequately the Poitevin Huguenot's daughter, en dow the creation with such a heart and intellect as | dealer; and the probity and loyal character of his can alone render beauty perfectly irresistible. Let the transactions had hitherto kept him clear from any of warm and genial heart, unchilled, though aching from those disputes and misunderstandings to which comthe want of an object on which it might worthily ex-mercial affairs are so liable. But he was not a man pend, with uncalculating munificence, its overflowing to give up an advantage to which he deemed himself treasures of affection, be the seat of every generous honestly entitled. And it so happened that some and gentle emotion. Let the bright and sparkling difference respecting the terms of a contract entered intelligence that leaps forward to meet the approach into between him and a large manufacturer of Sedan of kindred thought, illuminate the features and animate the sparkling eye. already the seat of a thriving cloth trade-led to a warm dispute between the manufacturer and the merchant. The matter in question involved interests to a considerable amount. Neither party would yield to the representations of the other, and it became necessary to submit the matter to the arbitration of the tribunals. Poor Pauline! all this and more was hers. Nor was there wanting to the completion of the fascinating whole a fair share of those peculiarly female qualities which, in the presumption of our masculine wisdom, we are want to designate as imperfections. Among these was a strong, but most innocent love The question at issue was to be tried at the of admiration. Yes! shake your heads, wise moral"Grands Jours de Poitiers," as the session for the ists! and think what a much better plan for the con- purpose of holding what we shall call "assizes," was struction of a female bosom you could have suggested, then termed; and Bartenau had neglected no fair had Nature only consulted you! Here and there-precaution to ensure a successful issue to his suit. rarely, thank heaven-one meets a monster woman without this quality. Are they such as to make us fall in love with the improvement? Well, such was Pauline in her twentieth year. It is needless to say that she was not happy in her father's house-that her life had been an ungenial and cheerless one, which would have dimmed into pining, broken-spirited helplessness, a weaker spirit, and have perverted to bitterness and gall a less right-hearted and thoroughly healthy one. Needless, too, to admit that the glimpses of that gay and bright-looking outer world, which rare and far-between had reached her in her deep retirement, had appeared to her and bright. She would not have been the loveable and fascinating creature we have endeavoured to describe her, had it been otherwise. gay Do you feel any interest, reader, for the Huguenot's daughter? See her, as she sits there at the window over that of her father's warehouse, and looking into the narrow street, formed almost entirely of the dull and quiet-looking tenements of other similar dealers. She is plying, somewhat languidly, it is true, the needle which is elaborating some of that gorgeous work, delicate and yet durable, which employed so many of the hours of our great-great-grand-mothers; and listening as little as possible to the interminable lecture of her grim governante-delivered almost avowedly for the pleasure of the deliverer, rather than from any expected advantage to the recipienton the exceeding wickedness of the world in general, and of herself in particular, and the fearful sinfulness of all worldly occupations, especially the fabrication of vanities, such as that on which she was then engaged. Do you feel any interest in her fate? If so, pass we on to the next chapter, Among the measures he had adepted was that of securing the services of an advocate, who had been especially recommended to him as particularly conversant with the laws and customs regulating commercial affairs. The advocate thus selected was still a young man, though already marked as a rising one in his profession, and favourably known to the Judges and to his seniors at the bar. His name was Jules de Pontarlier. The legal profession was, at the period of which we are speaking, becoming daily more important in the government of his country, and occupying a position of greater consideration in the eyes of the court, the military noblesse, and the people. The members of the profession were held together by an esprit de corps at the least as strong as that which united the old feudal nobility to each other. And the parliamentarian families, many of whom, for several generations together, had enjoyed the honours of the "gown," were as proud of their long-robed ancestry, as the haughtiest of the "noblesse de l'epée." In many of these families wit and learning seemed to be hereditary; and in general the legal profession at that day comprehended, in the ranks of its junior members, a very large proportion of the talent of the rising generation. Of those who had been recently admitted to the honours of the bar, and to whom its seniors most confidently looked to maintain and add to the credit of the profession, both as a sound lawyer and a man of talent, none occupied a more prominent place than Jules de Pontarlier. He was one of those gifted few, who can carry cumbrous learning without in any degree making the weight of the load manifest to the mere looker-on by the heaviness of his step or constrained action of his gait. When out of court, and not engaged in preparing the affairs of his clients for their appearance there, the playfulness of his wit, and light gaiety of his manner, were such as rendered him a favorite in circles where the gayer-plumaged scions of the sword noblesse were his rivals, in competing for the guerdon of a smile from lovely lips, ar It was about that period of Pauline's life, of which an approving glance from bright eyes. And a danwe were speaking in the last chapter, that an incident gerous competitor was the young lawyer to the gayest occurred, which eventually gave rise to the circum- and gallantest empty-pated young soldier. For stances that coloured the entire sequel of it. Jacques despite the axiom laid down to the contrary by that Bartenau was a scrupulously honest and honourable great authority in such matters, Thomas Moore, in CHAPTER V. "VIRGINIBUS PUERISQUE." the charming little song of " Beauty, Reason, and Folly," we maintain, with all respect, that Folly never yet succeeded in making himself so agreeable to Beauty as Reason can, when he chooses to don the cap and bells for an hour, and wear them with a grace and effect that their own silly owner can never contrive to produce, Other qualifications there are, without which neither Reason nor Folly need hope success in Beauty's bowers. Some fair share of Beauty's own especial graces is absolutely necessary; and these the young lawyer possessed in no trifling degree. A handsome and singularly elegant person, fine, open frank-looking features, animated with an irresistibly merry and laughing blue eye-these were advantages inestimable in the societies that Jules de Pontarlier best loved to frequent in his hours of recreation; and which were by no means thrown away even among the grave seniors who stood around the path of professional success. Such was the young advocate to whom Jacques Bartenau had, by the recommendation of some of the seniors of the profession, entrusted the conduct of his case; a case which involved property to a larger amount than any that had hitherto been confided to his zeal and skill. 66 certain that every one among you can supply the Well! to stolen interviews in her father's house succeeded stolen interviews elsewhere-tête-à-tête walks on the wooded banks of the Sevre, outside the town, etc., etc. Then came the season of the full Moon. And-alack! alack! who does not know the mischievous influences of that lovely, cold, shy, modest-looking moon? sir, the impropriety of the thing must have struck any Moon-light walks! and tête-à-tête! But surely, properly educated young lady. Well: consultations, explanations, much preparatory talking, were necessary. Jules de Pontarlier came frequently to the merchant's house-frequently saw Pauline-sat in the same room with her. And so, it came to pass that the reader knows the rest already. What! the old story, eh? Yes! ungende reader! it is an old story. It is 5848 years old, according to the computation of good Archbishop Usher, learned in these and many other matters. The tale, truly, has never been a new one, since it was first told amid the bowers of Paradise. And such has been the abiding influence of this, its first birth-place, on its nature, that when rightly told by fitting lips to fitting ears, it changes the scene of its telling-be that what it may -to a veritable Paradise, for the time being, Yes! ungentle reader, the story is old. But we must be Madame! we are fully aware of all you would excused if we take leave to hint, that were the story urge. We might ask you, in return, whether poor all that is old in the matter, its age would in no wise Pauline was a " properly educated" young lady. You interfere with its favourable reception. Look at the know what her bringing up was. But we prefer inscription at the head of this chapter, old gentle-Stating at once, that we are not anxious to submit our man-"Virginibus Puerisque !"-and to those indul- poor heroine to your ladyship's notice at all. gent readers we address ourselves for the present. We know what "impropriety" is, far too well to Those to whom the story is too stale a one to be in- bring it under your ladyship's eye in any shape. teresting, may turn on to the sequel. Not but that PROPRIETY! odious word! invented by the world's an old story too. Alack! but too old a story in this Pharisees to hold in their vocabulary the place of inpoor world of ours. But somehow, there is some-nocence, goodness, modesty, and every other truly thing in it which often makes it pleasant reading to those who turn up their respectable roseate noses at a true love tale. Jules de Pontarlier and Pauline Bartenau met frequently-somewhat more frequently perhaps, than the strict necessities of the legal business in hand might have required. You, too, can perchance guess the result, ingenuous youths, gentle maids, be ye yet fancy-free, or bearing in your stricken hearts the wound. And now that we have appealed especially to you, to listen to this section of our history, we are diffident of our own powers of worthily narrating it. We have the consolation, however, of feeling quite Christian grace. Of the rules of propriety, Pauline knew nothing, so she walked by moonlight with her lover evening after evening, sometimes where the capricious light, glancing in chequered rays among the restless leaves, came to dance on the still waters of the sluggish river; sometimes to the top of the hill which rises to. the westward of the town, and from which they could contemplate the entire city sleeping in the still white light beneath them. Moments of happiness! which all that the world can give, can neither equal, nor alas, reproduce!' moments how fleeting! but never to be forgotten! (To be contined.), MR. RICHARD JONES AND THE POLKA; OR, THE DANGER OF DELAY. "Ce n'est que le premier pas qui coûte." murmur, expressive of thought set in a new direction, reached our ears. The lady of the house, with a countenance which a reprieved convict might have copied with advantage, had ceased to fan herself, and looked for the first time that night, as if she had infication. A bright idea had just been broached. Count Thaddeus de Sneezewowski, a Polish nobleman, of such undeniable exterior that even the Lord Mayor might have been proud of his acquaintance, had just inquired whether Mrs. Gunter Rout had ever seen the polka danced, and upon receiving a general answer in the negative, had volunteered to give a lesson on the spot. What was this polka? What was it like? Was it a becoming, or a pretty, or a proper dance? These and other similar queries were put and answered by many a fair girl; and each young lady hoped, whether fair or otherwise, (for Count Thaddeus was a handsome man,) that she might have him for a partner. It is with chastened feelings of unremorseful com- | through the ball-room should induce anxious moplacency that I give to the world my confession-in thers to cram jaded daughters into family coaches, the words of a celebrated member of the Skating and so break up our téte-à-tête. Of a sudden, a Club that "my dancing days are over." I am not old, nor crabbed, not ugly (that I know of,) nor club-footed: but a social change has come over my Terpsichorean spirit; and were I a be-whiskered and be-moustached cornet of the immortal "Tenth," it were impossible to throw a greater degree of reprov-vited all those souls into her rooms for her own gratiing pathos into my refusal, when I am asked to "stand up to dance." Think not, reader, that from pique alone I have been driven into this strange idiosyncracy: no, nor from a wandering wigwam life, nor tight boots, nor from any one of the many causes which incline some men to feel compunction in hopping about in crowded, mephitic ball-rooms. I claim all the sympathy which a singular, and as yet unprobed, affliction so justly demands;an affliction, which never would have been blazoned forth to your unscrupulous gaze, had it not been for the thousand and one tiresome and impertinent questions and surmises to which, from time to time, I have been a victim. Here then, Lady Angelica Saraband, and you, Mrs. | Gunter Rout, and you, especially, oh! fair Hebewill you discover the true cause that has hitherto kept me in dark corners and outside of doors, and why I have so strenuously resisted all introduction to "eli-maze' be to either of us?" It is easy to imagine gible" partners. Listen then to an "ower true tale," and suffer your gentle hearts to compassionate, before they learn to condemn. "At least, dearest," I had murmured to my companion, "we are saved the infliction of learning a new step. A few months, and what will the 'giddy what reply I should have received: but at that moment we were interrupted by Mrs. Gunter Rout, who with her blandest smile, declared that she could not spare one of her available young ladies, as Count Thaddeus had been so good as to promise an unexpected treat. "I assure you," began my Aurelia, with the prettiest demure look imaginable," I, for one, would much rather not dance." It was the close of the London season, and I found myself one of a select circle met (some two or three years back) to assist in its last obsequies. Although the room was sufficiently empty, the heat was excessive; and, in addition, that social languor-so peculiar to the time of the year-that tells of balls and dinners unrequited, and of flirts and bouquet-holders But, my dear creature," pursued the tempter, gone abroad, allowed the harp to eat its sandwiches "what will everybody say if you do not lend us your unmolested, and the cornet-à-pistons to quaff its countenance? and a very pretty one indeed it is. apocryphal sherry in peace. Still, to at least two Here is a gentleman to whom I am particularly suppersons in those drawing-rooms, the temporary ces-plicated to present you." sation from the dance was attended by anything but And there stood the odious Pole-the very Count inconvenience. I speak for myself, for I was one Thaddeus-towering over the head of his hostess, of those two,--and if the other, even after what has since happened,-can find it in her heart to say that it was, why, I am very much tempted never again to put trust in the eyes of woman. and looking, the while, as if he were about to commit a very great sacrifice of himself, notwithstanding. I have barely the patience to say, that the fellow had a moustache, which covers a multitude of sins, and Did I say that we were nearly concealed from the many other things besides, if the truth were always vulgar gaze in the embrasure of an open window, spoken; and therefore my Aurelia turned to me with and that our hearts were throbbing with a warmth a winning smile, and requested my permission to try that no breeze, stolen from the sleeping streets be- the new step. Of course; what could I say? As neath, might hope to chill? Did I hint that, without Aurelia appeared anxious to dance, it would have speaking, we were watching for answers to the been vastly absurd in me to seem opposed to her thoughts that alternately, possessed us? Did I tell wishes; and away they went; Mrs. Gunter Rout you that, in a few months more, I looked forward to good naturedly observing to me, that they really making my languid partner my wife? If I omitted made a very handsome couple. Not content with to do so, let it be distinctly understood that, as all this fiendish remark, she was beginning to vow and this was the case, all further reference would be in- declare that I must dance, and that she would introdelicate and superfluous. duce me to Miss Agatha Wall (a particular friend of There we were, I say, revelling in that most deli-her's,) whom I had been settling in my own mind to cious of luxuries, double solitude in a crowd, dreading have left her shoes at home, as she had not moved lest the deepening silence and ennui perceptible from her seat that night. This overture, however, I |