church! whatever (in support of the dignity of the order) he had said in extenuation, her crime called for ecclesiastical chastisement and public reprimand : for this purpose he desired an interview with the Abbess, and charged her to see the culprit punished, as an example to the community. The Abbess, whose heart was good and kind, guessed the offender could be no other than Adelaide: she had kept her secret faithfully, and judging of the emotions which had impelled her to such conduct, assured the superior she would not fail to reprimand her severely; but threatened, only to prevent the Abbott's interposition. His holy zeal was not so easily satisfied; he talked of a chapter being called, and ultra rigors inflicted. The Abbess pleaded the Novice's recent indisposition, and the languor to which she was reduced in consequence; she likewise urged her saintly character, and that on the very eve of her taking the habit of the order, it was impolitic to treat her with harshness and lower her in the opinion of the sisters. Obedience is however the first of duties in a monastic institution: she therefore consented that the Nuns should be assembled to witness the humiliation and listen to the rebuke which the Abbott was to bestow upon the delinquent, and went herself to bring her before the august tribunal, meaning to soothe her agitation with the voice of friendship. She was not in her cell: she sought for her in the garden, for Adelaide had been allowed greater privileges than the rest of the community, and would often, from the garden's coolness, seek that refreshment which the busy workings of her memory denied her in sleep. The evening was one of stillness and delight. Night, as though jealous of the protracted day which still lingered on the horizon, had sent forth her starry attributes, and the reaper's moon hung full and luminous. Even the Abbess was touched with something more than her usual calm devotion, and wondered not that her unfortunate friend should often commune with God in this temple in preference to the one built by mortal hands. Something like human regret passed through her mind as she thought of Adelaide, beautiful, accomplished, and full of youthful energies, doomed to be imprisoned for life; subject to the constant jealousies and littlenesses of a conventual life, its apathy and extinction of human feelings. But then her blighted affections made a convent her only refuge; and while she was superior, she could protect her from much of suffering, bodily and mental. "Unable to find her in the garden, she proceeded to the chapel: the lamps used at the recent ceremony were mostly extinct, or burned dimly. Adelaide, daughter, are you here?' said the Abbess; but the low echo of her own words was the only reply. She turned to leave the place, when the red glare of evening pouring through a window discovered the object of her search, kneeling by the font, with one arm hanging over the marble basin, against which her head reclined. Her attitude and statue-like appearance made her seem part of the sculpture. The Abbess thought G tegns of genin felowship. But, Iture : vigerenly alowed, that no men I pezers vid shold be given eir being de passion, that when OBOTAY JURE mi disinterested love, a I is 1 ganly disen as the properest ESAT IS as mi erimsus”—“ Fair ee Farms her of the company) ESANTE DEr if par ist dvocate, and RIVA A ESTREy, mige is r vieid the palm dre du jeung t pe lemneris sex; as indeed gradu ai find. But al How it woman's love is an e-nere seeking the * toe ver mi ring in its percar en i net in I feel assured, NINI Tn equal irer been experimata ai es mi è al comtries; and I VI a story in corro I sad he get pestre in relaJA NA CHRIS vien ny is appoint* rei ir al proceed to re Samine? Chie ye their thoughts were ocpak e 228 scheer; and at the desire of Amanda, LAN Mur en v ǹ ir en speaker (as had t # de verser he began the Story L TALE III. THE STORY OF SYLVANUS. "I have too long suppress'd my hidden flames, "AURELIA, the lady of Glenryn Abbey, was, at the agc of twenty-eight, left a widow, in possession of a princely fortune and in the maturity of health and beauty,— yet, with all these advantages, she determined upon remaining in a state of widowhood, and to bestow the whole of her affections and cares upon her only son, Sylvanus, who was then in his 6th year: the lady had been married by her father, contrary to her inclinations, and was said not to have lived very happily during her husband's life-time, on account of his jealous and morose temper. He knew that he had not been the object of her choice, and well imagined that his advanced age and unsocial habits were not likely to her wrapt in pious ecstacy and drew near to arouse her. In vain the consolations of friendship, the chidings of religious austerity were alike equal; her withered heart could resist no longer; she had returned to the chapel where she had last beheld her lord, and pressed his infant to her heart. Again she traced its blooming features, and dwelt upon its father's delighted countenance; till, overcome by one of those bitter pangs which swell the heart to bursting, her spirit yielded to the struggle, and left her fixed and lifeless, as she has been described." All the company were much moved with the story told by Amanda, more especially the female auditors, with whom the distresses of disastrous love find ever sympathy. And now a dispute arose, which of the two sexes were most capable of feeling love to its fullest extent; which was warmly maintained in favour of the softer sex by the fair champions, who quoted innumerable proofs in support of their opinion from ancient and modern history, Fabulous, Apochryphal, or otherwise, as suited their peculiar humour. The names of Venus, Ariadne, Cleopatra, Clelia, Phædra, Cassandra, Heloise, Penthea, Juliet, Imogen, and innumerable others were mentioned with the familiarity of old acquaintances; and their several degrees and sorts of passion described with a minuteness which filled me with admiration at the extent and variety of these ladies studies, and of the vast capabilities of their memories. At length, out of |