of his own case as at least to perceive the means of its restoration, if not past cure: and his admiration of Constance approached so nearly to the love of virtue, that he wished to recover the purity which he knew had abandoned him, by seeking in her to ally himself with virtue herself. Could he succeed, the thought of a renovation of mind, proceeding from such a delightful source, took possession of him with such a charm that it thrilled to his heart.

Alas! it was like those fond dreams in anatomical science, which have, with more daring than truth, supposed it possible for youthful veins to be safely opened, and their healthful vigour infused into the dried up sluices of age. The attempt, however, in either case, ought not to be contemned.

From all this, it appears, that Lord Cleveland's admiration of Constance was not only sincere, but that his love of her character turned him with compunction to the contemplation of his own. The result did him no harm. He became for a time natural, easy, and almost modest. The flow of his mind seemed purified; his respect was evidently genuine; and Constance, after having herself never been so communicative, owned to the Marchioness and Lady

Eleanor, that Lord Cleveland could be very agreeable, nay, even respectable, if he pleased.

The additional power of pleasing which this feeling had given to herself, confirmed her influence over him in the most pointed degree. If, as a beautiful statue, (for so insensible had she hitherto always seemed to the Earl's attentions,) she could still maintain her empire, the relaxation of her austerity only made him more and more alive to the charm that bound him.

Nor can any one wonder at this, who has ever felt the augmented power of an amiable object, when we discover the least indication of a reciprocity of feeling. The eye that does not avoid being sought by ours; the glance returned, though ever so passing; the hand's soft pressure in the least repaid; the little request granted with alacrity; the sentiment re-echoed; the unobvious, yet discoverable pleasure in the acceptance of homage—these are heighteners of beauty beyond all the powers of art to equal; they give loveliness a charm which even Nature did not intend, and can almost soften ugliness itself into something like attraction.

The dinner, therefore, and the evening at Castle Mowbray, on the first day of the Earl's arrival, seemed not only to his delighted sense,

but to his better and clearer feelings, an Elysium which, if ever he had felt it, he had despaired of feeling again; and he lay down to rest revolving dreams, which, could they be realized, were, as he thought, worth more than the world, and which, though they might be merely dreams, had made him already a better and a happier

man.

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME

SHACKELL AND BAYLIS, JOHNSON'S-COURT.