bourhood. The difficulty, however, was to get his own consent, for he interposed a thousand objections. In truth, young and espiégle as he was, the poor boy was already in love (though he had yet reached but fifteen summers) with the little brunette, who was daughter of the then landlord of La Chataignerie. But the match was too great for le pauvre François, whose father had nothing but an orchard to support him, and many other children. So in the end, François was fain to go and seek his fortune with Major Stanley; and, from his account, many were the tears that fell from his pretty toya, at his departure.

*

But was she forgotten? Ah, no! François grew up to manhood, and served with his master in England, and on the continent, and saw many pretty girls, but none of them, he said, had such kindness in their eye (at least for him), as the little Catalina. Well,--by fidelity and attention to his master, he acquired his esteem and gratitude too; for following him to Jamaica, where the Major went with his regiment, and died, François nursed him so affectionately in his last sickness, that he left him a hundred pounds, and all his wardrobe and moveables, which netted two hundred more. François was now rich; richer than Catalina's father himself; and what was quite as extraordinary, he was thirty, and still in love. He had an irresistable desire, therefore, to return to La Chataignerie, if only to inquire whether Catalina

In the Pyrenean patois, a young woman-is called Toya.

was alive. He did so, found her not only alive, but single, for she had resisted great offers, she knew not why, from a baker at Tarbes, and a restaurateur at Barèges. The cheek of Catalina had lost its freshness; but this little account made it as blooming as ever in the eyes of François, who offered, and was accepted with joy.

Upon this he immediately changed his fine English clothes for the course mountain dress of his youth, and soon became master of the inn himself; "where," said he, "I have lived a blessed life without ever stirring from it; though my chief pleasure is when I chance to receive my dear master's countrymen, as I do to-day.'

So saying he bowed, not ungracefully, and received felicitations on his history, which were sincerely bestowed. It furnished still more food for the

speculations of both the gentlemen, who admired the romantic site of François' dwelling, and wondered it was not oftener visited by the restless pilgrims of Britain. The landlord assured them he had no cause of complaint, for that during the season for the waters, the Pyrenean hamlets were well stocked with travellers, and that many had lately passed in their way to Barèges, and St. Sauveur, towns now not far off.

"We have had," said De Vere, as they mounted their horses to pursue their way to Lourde, "a beautiful lesson on true natural happiness, unsophisticated by the artificial excitements with which, under our

This story is exactly true in all its parts.

management of them, we contrive to plague our

selves."

"I wish all the Aristippusses I have seen," cried Wentworth, “with ribands and stars on their breasts, but hearts within, worn out and blazes with great passions, could have seen this place and heard this story. Bolingbroke's inscriptions are nothing to it."

To this, De Vere heartily assented, for it flattered all his feelings, and fell in with all his favourite principles; so that, both gentlemen meditated internally over La Chataignerie, long after they had quitted it. At length, breaking silence, "I believe," said Wentworth, "you knew this good fellow's history when you talked so emphatically just now of your young Hottentot. At any rate, you see it is not the having mixed in the world that always prevents men from being happy out of it.”

"It is not I who want that lesson," answered De Vere; "I who am not only untried, but too poor, both in fortune and reputation, to be of service; though too rich, while I have a brown loaf, to be the hanger-on of a party or a patron. But you are different, and, whatever right you may have to complain of particular persons, you have no right yet to live for yourself, and dream away life as you just now talked of doing."

"All this is very fine," said Wentworth; " but I fear, if only public virtue were concerned, in my present humour it would not last long. My fear, after all, is, that however we may be delighted with

24. Tesislet great offers, she knew not War & Truss and a restaurateur at

Catama had lost its fresh

scom: made it as blooming as Talais, who offered, and was

changed his fine English mtai dress of his youth, sa te mr himself; “where,” A & dressed life without ever chef pleasure is when I ocr masters countrymen, as I

16

macefully, and received

bisters, which were sincerely beshe stil mare food for the specu*-who admired the oling, and wondered it

wat by stess pilgrims of TAXON