take what part in it you please. No; that would be to mock your condition! Your path may be narrow, but it is straight. By honourable exertion you may make the happiness you cannot find;' yea, and be happier for the very necessity that binds you to daily labour, and preserves you from temptation. Had your lot been mine, how much of misery might I have escaped!"

These words, passionately uttered, moved the scholar, but did not shake the desire which had become rooted in his mind. He endeavoured to excuse it, by pleading that youth was the season for adventure; that his studies had become distasteful to him; that content was a kind of wisdom most often derived from experience; and that he was resolved, at any hazard, to effect some change in his state.

"So be it then," replied his visiter; "the choice is your own. You are yet ignorant how carefully man sows the seeds of wretchedness, while he misses the joys which God and nature have laid at his feet. That sky is the same in aspect which the shepherd in Homer gazed on three thousand years ago. Is there nothing in those serene and everlasting orbs, to reprove the transitory im

pulses of worldly desire? We are about to start on different tracks. I go in search of the peace you wantonly fling away. May your experience profit you! I have your word for the fulfilment of the conditions I have prescribed?"

"I swear

The scholar, whose feelings were highly wrought, was about to proceed, when his companion sternly checked him.

"Hold! Though ignorant of yourself, yet respect the weakness of humanity. Your promise is sufficient. You will not object to a slight perfume."

Hardly waiting for the young man's answer, he took from his pocket a small box of pastiles, and lit one on the mantelpiece, returning as he did so to the open casement. A grateful vapour rose from the pastile. Insensibly the pleasing scent mingled with the young man's speculations on the brilliant period which he no longer doubted was opening to him. He did not dare to disturb his companion, nor in a few moments had he the power to do so. The room faded from before his eyes, and was replaced by happy visions. He saw gilded saloons and beautiful gardens -filled with elegant company, one sparkling

VOL. I.

K

head, with its rich dark tresses, moving in every throng; while far, far in the background, was the little bed of the pale Millicent, with her humble hopeful sister sitting at work beside it.

CHAPTER VIII

Mine were my faults, and mine be their reward;
There was a contest in me from the day
My life began. Life gave me that which marr'd
The gift-a fate or will that led my steps astray;
And I at times have found the struggle hard,
And thought of shaking off this load of clay.
But now, I fain would for a time survive,

If but to see what next there will arrive.

BYRON.

CAVENDISH TO FRANCIS DAMER.

"WHEN you receive this letter, my dear Damer, I shall be far beyond the reach of your prudent remonstrances. I am bound for Persepolis, and shall travel night and day till I reach the city of ruins.

"Do not puzzle yourself with conjectures to account for my sudden resolve. The sage in 'Rasselas' says, sagely enough, that reason cannot explain what reason does not prompt. I was a rational being when I saw you a week back; I am one no longer. One

of my old fits has seized me, and I can no more resist it than a man in an ague can resist shivering.

"You have often told me my actions were strange and inexplicable. Think this one so too, and as a stranger give it welcome. You know I am bound to no particular spot on earth-that I am one of the Ishmaels of society. How or why it is that I am seized so suddenly and so often with fits of restlessness, matters little. But in truth, after a period of repose, I find the ease of life intolerable to me, and am impelled by a feeling I cannot resist to seek in rapid travel the excitement, and fatigue, and change, which are, I believe, necessary to my existence. Cannot you understand how folly sometimes may be wisdom? If I were not foolish I should be mad.

"Do not think all your philosophy has been thrown away on me. As a boy, I admired your calm and happy disposition, and I have lost none of my admiration for it as a man. You ceased to be my tutor only to become my friend. Had I remained with you longer, your example might have had greater influence over me. That fortune which rendered me the object of so much