"For some time past," said he, “I have been occupied with your's and your brother's establishment: he has just reached his twenty-second year, the age which I have fixed on for his marriage; besides, a brilliant opportunity offers, we must seize it. It ought to be of equal importance to you as to us, for his glory as well as for ours, that the fortune of his ancestors should descend to him entire, so that he may honourably sustain the rank he holds from them, and the position which he enjoys in the world. These reasons, which ought to appear just to you, must make you banish all idea of marriage, and leave for you but the retirement of a convent. It has occupied the serious thoughts of your mother and myself: her maternal tenderness at first repulsed with horror the idea of a cloister; but, after a short examination, she is reassured as to the calm life which you will enjoy, and convinced of the wisdom of my determination, she has submitted to it, knowing it to be irrevocable, and based on your peace and happiness."

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My father was still speaking, but I had ceased to hear him: I could scarcely see-a frightful load lay on my heart. "Oh no, no! not a convent! claimed in my delirium "Do you know what a convent is? It separates you from the whole world; it is a tomb, a grave, I tell you!" And falling on my knees before my father, I struck my forehead against the ground. "Mercy!" I exclaimed, with the energy of despair. “Oh, that I were dead! No friendly look ever consoles my sorrows! You are barbarians! You may kill me, I tell you, but bury me alive, never! was still clasping my father's knees. "The girl is mad!" said he in an angry tone caused by my resistance; and disengaging his hand suddenly, I having nothing to support me, fell, and my head struck heavily against an angle of the wainscot. A cold shudder passed over me. The pain that my fall caused drew from me a scream which brought back the use of my senses; then seeing my mother anxiously spring forward to my assistance, I rose with a nervous rapidity, and turning away my eyes I said to her, in a tone full of bitter and deep indignation: "Approach not, madam; the shameful treatment I have undergone renders me independent! thank you, but I do not require your assistance. I have just learned that it would be useless to implore it; besides, I am too proud to place myself in a

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position to owe any gratitude to my executioners!" This word piereed my mother to the heart! She put her handkerchief to her eyes and threw herself into an arm chair.

My father, taking me by the hand, led me down stairs without resistance. A carriage was waiting for me, I was burried into it; the door was closed, and an hour afterwards I was in the convent. Since that day I have never left it: my noviciate lasted two years, and at eighteen I took the vows! I still remember that terrible day, that renunciation of the world, which I articulated in a hollow trembling voice beneath the pall of death! and my ebony locks falling beneath the scissors and sliding over my shoulders, and down my coarse dress, rolled in long curls on the pavement of the chapel! The next day those curls were thrown with the dust into a corner, for neither father nor mother had come to collect them, in order to preserve them as a precious relic. These eyes, formerly so beautiful and brilliant, now dim and filled with tears; my young and lovely face grown thin by watching, and hollowed by despair-and this bandeau, this fatal black veil with which they covered my head! Then all was over; and when I had changed my name, and taken that of sister Marie de la Miséricorde, I burst into tears. "Where is this boasted mercy ?" cried I! "Is it on earth? No, no! men have none. Is it in heaven ?" My prayers have not yet been answered. Since then I have heard its voice, when time had removed and weakened my sorrows!

This is the recital of them, dear friend, they were hard to bear, but my heart is not yet seared: the picture of your maternal joy has given me a satisfaction hitherto unknown; it has, like a consoling balm, softened my troubles.

I have retraced in my own mind, with the enjoyment of a heart exempt from jealousy, that affecting ceremony in which your daughter, proud and happy of your approbation, has changed a little of her liberty for much happiness and love. I thought I heard the merry pealing of the bells; I thought I saw the young bride adorned with flowers, kneeling at the foot of the altar; her forehead covered with a white veil, ber cheeks glowing with modesty and pleasure, her eyes timidly resting on the ground, while those of her bridegroom are casting on her looks of tenderness and hope: I thought I saw her brought back by her father, mother, and husband,

as being their wealth and joy. But why, when leaving the sacred walls, where her union has just been blest, why does she weep?" Mamma, she is crying!" says a child, in its mother's arms, lifting its head above the crowd in order to see the young bride pass. "Mamma, why are they taking her away ?--Why is she crying?" "Because she is too happy, my child," replies the young mother, with emotion. And the crowd repeats with a voice touched by emotion, "too happy!" These confused murmurs fill the arches of the vast edifice, and find an echo in the heart of her who is the object of them, and who, happy and pensive stammers out, "oh yes, too happy!" Enjoy, excellent mother, enjoy your work; reap the gratitude the blessings of thy daughter; whilst I!-Listen! In the silence of my cell, I have cursed my parents! It was the effect of my despair! That was horrible-was it not? Oh yes, dreadful! When I became calm, the remembrance of these curses frightened me-froze me with terror, and I exclaimed, "oh, God! thou hast not surely hearkened to my sacrilegious words." I longed to convince myself that the Eternal had rejected them, so odious did they appear to me. But, what do I hear? This is the hour of prayer. How calm and beautiful is the night!-How bright the moon and stars! Listen!-the matin bell with its slow and solemn tone is calling my companions; listen their footsteps are softly gliding along the pavement of the long corridors. Their hymns are already ascending towards heaven. I am going to join them, dear friend, and prostrated on the marble of the chapel, I will pray for thee and thy daughter, and I will ask of heaven, if not forgetfulness of my woes, at least the courage to support patiently the weight of them, and to wait with resignation the end of my stormy and painful

NOTES OF A READER.

[We are indebted for the following, to Lord's Algiers, which appears to have been compiled with much judgment from every available source.]

INTERNATIONAL PERFIDY OF THE MOORS.

"A singular exemplification of Moorish perfidy towards one another, as giving a good idea of their character, we here relate. A Moor had murdered another, and having been caught in the fact, was thrown into prison, where he lay daily expecting an order for execution, or at least that his right hand, with which it was supposed he had done the deed, should be chopped off. Meantime one of his friends, anxious if possible to save his life, went to a person well acquainted with the prison, and offered a considerable sum if he would effect his escape. This the man immediately undertook; but demanded that the money should be given to him first, after which he was to prove to the other that within a certain time he had accomplished his purpose. The night in which the liberation was to be attempted was fixed on, and ropes were ready, to enable the prisoner to get over the walls. Having thus secured one sum on the transaction, the liberator began to think whether he could not procure himself a second, and for this purpose he went to the next of kin of the murdered man, who was of course anxiouslythirsting for the prisoner's death. He told him that there was no chance of justice being done, as the prisoner had actually escaped; but he could however for a certain reward put the prisoner in his power, so as to enable him to accomplish his revenge. This was also readily agreed to, and the money laid down; the other giving surety_that he would perform his promise. For this purpose he desired the avenger to station himself under the shadow of a rock near the prison, outside the town; for that there he would meet his enemy about two o'clock the following morning. The person who made the first engagement was directed to be at the same spot at three o'clock; all matters being now arranged, the liberation of the prisoner was effected a little before the first appointed hour, and he was directed to make his way to the rock, where he was told he would meet his friend. While waiting there the avenger came up, and recognising the prisoner, struck a dagger into his heart, and made his escape. The friend arriving soon after on the spot, found the prisoner's body

evidently recently murdered. While pondering on this singular circumstance, he saw the liberator approach, whom he at once commenced accusing of the prisoner's death; but he replied, "I have executed my engagement of liberating your friend, and am therefore entitled to my reward; what has happened to him since is no concern of mine, see you to that. But I should inform you, that soon after his liberation I saw a man approach, and fearing that I was discovered, ran and hid myself under the rock. In a short time I returned, and found your friend weltering in his blood; when I approached he had just time, before expiring, to name his murderer, whom he said was the next of kin to the man he had himself killed!" The more duplicity used in these horrid transactions, the more merit is attributed to the agent, who is praised in proportion to his ingenuity and treachery, as was the case in this instance.

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THE EPICUREAN: GASTRONOMIC TALE, INTERSPERSED WITH SUITABLE REFLECTIONS.

The qualms or raptures of your blood Rise in proportion to your food; And if you would improve your thought, You must be fed as well as taught.-Prior. Ir was on the evening of a dull, damp, dreary, weary, melancholy, miserable day, towards the latter end of November, when Titus Dodds, esq., of Cornhill, merchant, closed his counting-house door, and proceeded homeward to his residence, No. 42, Brooke Street, High Holborn, in quest of palatable nutriment. The prospect before him was anything but alluring. All surrounding substances, animate and inanimate, wore a most wretched and wo-begone aspect. The streets were greasy and slippery, the halfwashed houses looked lonely and cheerless, while the Bank, the Mansion House, the Exchange, and other awkward and well-smoked edifices, as seen by the equi. vocal light of four o'clock, presented a peculiarly grim and repulsive appearance. The chilly, drizzly atmosphere penetrated to the very marrow of the shivering citizens as they crawled along to their respective domiciles, causing the most unpleasant alterations in the "human face divine;" cheeks and noses exchanged their appropriate tints; and many wellmeaning, inoffensive people, whom their worst enemies could not charge with literary propensities, looked intensely blue. The shopmen sat behind their deserted counters, buried in profound

meditation; street minstrels, vocal and instrumental, suspended their unfeeling persecutions; the starved, gaunt, miser. able hackney and stage horses, from whose spavined limbs the "speed of thought" had long since departed, stood trembling, and ruminating doubtless on the "flowery fields and pastures green" of their infancy; while their red-visaged proprietors clustered together in small groups around the doors of the adjacent gin-shops, in impatient expectation of a

customer.

"A coach, sir, a coach?" cried a dozen voices, as Mr. Dodds approached; but he strode onward without deigning a reply, followed by the bitter maledictions of his disappointed fellow-creatures.

But it is time some explanation was entered into, of the character and habits of the hero of this history.

Mr. Titus Dodds was a plain, honest, kind-hearted, sensible-enough sort of man. When a census of the population of the metropolis was taken, he counted one; but excepting on those occasions, never attempted to cut a figure in the world. If one asked his opinion respecting the domestic and foreign policy of the cabinet, he used to reply, that he was no politician; if another requested his views upon controversial points of religion, he would answer, that he was no theologian; and if any one desired to know his opinion concerning the probability of finding a passage round the North Pole, he would say, he thought it likely it might be discovered some time or other, adding, however, by way of qualification, that it was a great chance if it ever were. Holding these inoffensive tenets respecting law, divinity, politics, and science, and professing a total ignorance of poetry and the fine arts, he managed to get through the world with considerable ease and comfort to himself, and little or no inconvenience to his neighbours. As he was provided with an heiress to his small property, he was not troubled with the civilities and delicate attentions of friends and relatives; and as he made it a rule to keep out of debt, few people, of course, felt an interest in his fate.

Such was the appearance which Mr. Dodds presented to the superficial observer; and such indeed was his real character, as far as it went; but beneath all this placidity and quiescence lurked strong passions-ardent desires-unconquerable longings. It seemed as if all the sharp points of his character had flown off and concentrated themselves under one particular head. The fact is, Mr. Dodds

strances, inasmuch as they frequently brought tears to her eyes; but Titus was firm, and occasionally carried his point. He had succeeded in doing so on the day on which our story commences (and ends), and the last words that ran along the passage, as he closed the door after him in the morning, were—“ precisely at five."

But to return to Mr. Dodds, whom we left just entering Cheapside. Scarcely had he proceeded as far as Bow Church, when the dense fog, which had been brooding over the city for the last twelve hours, and resting itself on the tops of the more elevated buildings, came tumbling down all at once, bringing with it the whole of that day's smoke, which had been vainly endeavouring, since the first fire was lighted in the morning, to ascend to its usual station in the atmosphere. As soon as this immense funereal pall was spread over the city, things fell, as was naturally to be expected, into immediate and irremediable confusion. Pedestrian bore violently down upon pedestrian, and equestrian came in still more forcible contact with equestrian. Cart overturned cart-coach ran against coach-shafts were broken-wheels torn off-windows stove in, passengers shouted and screamed, and the language of the drivers, though copious and flowing, became characterized rather by energy than elegance. But a London fog cannot be described. To be appreciated it must be seen, or rather felt; for it is altogether impossible to be clear and lucid on such a subject. It is the only thing which gives you an idea of what Milton meant when he talked of " darkness visible." There is a kind of light, to be sure, but it only serves as a medium for a series of optical delusions; and for all useful purposes of vision, the deepest darkness that ever fell from the heavens is infinitely preferable. A man perceives a coach dozen yards off, and a single stride brings him among the horses' feet, -he sees a gas-light faintly glimmering (as he thinks) at a distance, but scarcely has he advanced a step or two towards it, when he becomes convinced of its actual station by finding his head rattling against the post; and as for attempting, if you get once mystified, to distinguish one street from another, it is ridiculous to think of such a thing.

At the end of Cheapside there was a grand concussion of wheeled vehicles, and Mr. Dodds found some difficulty in preserving that intimate connexion which had so long satisfactorily subsisted

between his mortal and immortal parts. The danger of being jostled, overturned, and trodden under foot, confused, unsettled, and perturbed his local ideas considerably, so that, instead of holding his way along Newgate-street, in a westerly direction, he pointed his nose due north (up Aldersgate-street), and followed it according to the best of his ability.

"They will be overdone!" soliloquized Titus; and he groped vigorously forward, until, as the clock struck the appointed hour of five, he found himself at the Angel at Islington, just about as far from his domicile as when he left his counting-house. There are limits to the power of language, and therefore I shall leave Mr. Dodds' state of mind, on making this singular discovery, to the imagination of the reader. But there was no time to be lost. He struck his rattan on the pavement, wiped the perspiration from his forehead, inquired for, as his nearest way, St. John's-street Road, and plunged at once into its mysterious recesses. 'Twere painful and vain to tell of his dismal and dubious wanderings in those complex regions which lie between the aforesaid road and Gray's Inn; suffice it to say, that he at length succeeded in reaching the latter, and began once more to entertain hopes of seeing his home again, when he became aware of something in his path, and a voice from the mist thus broke upon his ear: —

"Heaven bless your honour! poor Pat O'Connor' Ploughing on the sea,

Lost his precious sight, by lightning in the night! Poor Pat O'Connor begs for charity!

Ah! give him one poor halfpenny!" Mr. Dodds was a patriotic man in his way; and a disabled prop of the naval power of his country seldom appealed to him in vain ; but on this occasion he passed on, and the man with no eyes paused in his strain to bestow a passing benediction on those of Mr. Dodds.

"For the love of mercy spare a trifle to a poor widow with seven small children," said a miserable object seated on a door-step. Mr. Dodds was a charitable man, but he delayed not.

"Mind that ere puddle, sir, and valk over this 'ere plank," vociferated a little scrub-headed urchin, the proprietor of a frail deal board, which he had placed across "the meeting of the waters" from two or three street-ends, to benefit travellers, and serve his own pecuniary purposes. Titus did so, and passed over the confluence of the kennels dry-shod. “Re