her husband's mother, under whose care, as I afterwards discovered, she had placed two children.

"She expressed herself at times as enjoying much peace, though she had indeed intervals of very deep depression, in which it seemed that she lost all hold of the promises, and considered that it would be for the divine glory that she should perish for ever; but in these gloomy moments there was no bitterness in her spirit, no repining words proceeded from her mouth but she would say, 'If I perish, I must confess that it is just;' and she would apply to herself those expressive words of Balaam, when speaking of him that should come, I shall see him, but not now; I shall behold him, but not nigh. (Numbers xxiv. 17.)

"These visitations of darkness did not, however, continue long, neither were they frequent; they were, however, most awful to those present, and never to be forgotten by them.

"The last hours of the Comtesse de Barfleur were calm, and her expressions full of hope. She bequeathed her child to me, receiving my solemn assurance that I would be a father to the orphan; a promise which I have been enabled to fulfil to the present day. A few jewels of no great value, and a manuscript containing her own unhappy life, were all the worldly goods which the comtesse left her infant. But the blessing of Heaven, which is far above gold and silver, has hitherto attended the orphan; and I have the delight of beholding my adopted one, now in her eighteenth year, precisely such as her mother might have been, had she in the days of blooming youth and unbroken health possessed those humbling and exalting views of religion with which she was blessed during the last few months of her life. My little Estelle was early made to tread in the paths of adversity. Young as she was when her mother died, she was by no means insensible of the loss; and her tender spirit was again repeatedly wounded some years afterwards by the distresses of the country in which she lived: for infidelity and anarchy had spread their horrors even to our sequestered hamlet. Actual hardship and bitter penury have since been sometimes her lot, as she accompanied me in my escape from my house, where my life was no longer safe; and though since our arrival in this island we have found a peaceful shelter and much kindness, yet she seems to find it difficult to cast aside those painful

recollections, which to those who are banished from the homes of their fathers must but too often recur.

"But to dwell no longer on these matters, I proceed to lay before my reader the manuscript which was placed in my hands by the dying Comtesse de Barfleur, with a charge that it should not be given to her daughter till she was of an age to profit by the warning.

The Memoirs of the unhappy Estelle, the beautiful Comtesse de Barfleur, as related by herself.

"Had I been asked a few months past what I most desired on earth, I should have answered, To receive the assurance that after death my body would never again arise from the dust to which it was doomed to be committed; and that my immortal soul, with all its conscious and reflecting faculties, its ardent longings after happiness, its warm affections and intellectual energies, would cease to be for ever.

"I then saw no other prospect of a termination to my misery but what annihilation could supply; but my religious education, which in former years did not benefit me, was that which rendered it impossible for me to derive comfort and satisfaction from infidelity. The stupor of scepticism has no doubt hung on the souls of many until death: but the child who has received the lesson of wisdom from the mouth of a pious parent, must retain such a knowledge of the divine Being, and such a dread of the divine anger, as must embitter every hour even of the most prosperous life spent in the ways of sin, and render the sophisms of infidelity utterly incapable of lulling the soul into that state of stupor which must end, if not disturbed, in the horrors of eternal death. If the pious parent and instructor fails in making his children holy, at least he must succeed in rendering them wretched in the ways of wickedness, and seldom fails, with the divine blessing, of averting that last and most dreadful effect of a long continuance of sin, namely, the palsy of the conscience, the entire death of religious feelings, and that stubborn opposition and resistance of the will to all kindly influences from within and without, which we have seen in some miserable individuals, concerning whom there is reason to dread that they ap

proach awfully near to the guilt of such as sin against the Holy Ghost, who cannot be forgiven either in this world or that which is to come.

"The time indeed was, when I strove against conviction with an obstinacy and pertinacity on which I now look with unfeigned horror. O, what misery did I then endure! what was the fever which then burned in my body, to the raging fever of my soul, the paroxysms of fear and remorse, and the cold shudderings of despair, which alternately possessed me! but still, still my conscience was not dead, and if I for a short interval succeeded in stilling the throbbings of my heart, the image of my father would rise before me, and awaken all the tenderness of my nature. And I hoped, at least, that my fall and consequent wretchedness, and my eternal misery, (for I looked forward only to endless despair,) might never be known to him; for I could not divest myself of the idea, that his happiness through futurity would somehow or other be embittered by the knowledge of his child's perdition, although reason and revelation forbid the apprehension. Thus did this feeling of pure and unmingled affection and reverence, preserve me amidst this tempest of dreadful passions; and more than once, when I would have terminated my exist ence on earth by taking large draughts of soporific drops, which had been provided for easing my pains, the remembrance of my father has arrested my hand, and the fear of rendering him unhappy by fixing my doom for ever, has cut short my purpose. Thus, though dead, my father yet seemed to speak to me; and when most oppressed, I often seemed to be most mindful of him. But to shorten these reflections, I proceed with my story.

"I was born in this beautiful valley, being the only child of my parents. My memory does not serve me to bring back the remembrance of my mother, or probably she died before that period in which the young imagination is enabled to retain the impressions made thereon; for as visions reflected in water, so are the impressions made on the breast of infancy; they may indeed be bright and lovely, but they speedily pass away and leave no trace behind them. I have, however, heard, that my mother was not only attractive in her outward appearance, but all glorious within, having many evidences of being a daughter of the King of

Zion. And perhaps I might date the commencement of my misfortunes from the event which deprived me of her watchful care; for I had no one in my father's house who could in any degree fill her place to me, excepting an old female servant, named Jeanot d'Esten, whose acquaintance with human nature was so limited, that where she felt affection, as she did for me, she never could suppose that any thing was amiss which did not actually present itself to her senses. My father indeed possessed far more penetration into character than did the good woman just mentioned; and there was no attention in his power and consistent with his various duties as a parish priest, which he did not pay to me. Nevertheless, I

continually felt the want of a mother, and that of a proper companion of my own age. I was too frequently left alone, and not sufficiently induced to open my heart in such a way to my guides, as might enable them to read my character and correct my errors.

"I am desirous in the course of my history to declare in what the defects of my education consisted. Not that I would wish to plead any excuse for my own conduct: no, I have been led to look on my past life with unmixed abhorrence, and to ascribe my misery principally to my own depravity. I verily believe that there could not have been devised any mode of education which would have rendered me an amiable character, (setting the influence of grace aside.) Nevertheless, I have reason to think that my corruptions were increased by one or two circumstances attendant on my early life, and I am the more anxious to point these out, because I believe the evil proceeded from a source which is rarely suspected by well-meaning parents.

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Man, it is well known, is not formed for solitude: the Lord himself said of him even before the fall, It is not good for the man that he should be alone; and since that period, universal experience has proved the same. Every indivi dual seeks a helpmate and companion; and from early infancy, children desire the company of those of their own age; while man retains this love of society to the most advanced years.

"Some temptations indeed there are, yes, very many, into which an individual may be brought through the me

dium of society; but I have reason to think, that it is in seclusion that the mind is prepared for its acquiescence in these temptations, and that where one accustomed to pub licity has fallen into sin from surprises and sudden temptations, thousands have been prepared by the excessive pri vacy of their lives for any occasion of evil which may first present itself. Hence the danger of allowing the unsancti. fied imagination of unconverted man leisure and opportu nity for exercising its pernicious faculties; and hence the imprudence of permitting many hours of solitary indolence to young people of any description, especially to those of lively fancies and active dispositions. Solitude may be less dangerous to the decidedly dull, but to others it may prove a source of mischief.

"I remember little of my very early days, though I have some impressive recollections of certain walks with my father, among the lovely scenery of my native valley; some little circumstances of which are written in indelible characters on my heart: they are associated with the colour and texture of certain flowers, the rush of waterfalls, the whispering of the winds, the hum of bees, and the bleating of sheep. But it was not every day that I was favoured with my father's company during my hours of exercise: I spent many hours and days alone; and this time, as I advanced in years, became the most dangerous period of my life for when our nature is unrenewed, a very little occasion will serve to engage the heart in the knowledge of sin; and when this knowledge is once admitted, the desire of indulging that which is evil becomes a decided bent of the mind. There is no situation in life, however guarded, however withdrawn from the common occurrences of life, however refined, however apparently pure, in which abundant aliment may not be found for feeding an unholy curiosity or a depraved fancy. Such being the case, a judicious parent will not desire solitude for his offspring, but will seek occasions of active, innocent, and cheerful sports for his children, in the society of artless young persons of their own age, as the most natural and suitable, and as exercises which are no less necessary for the health of the mind than for that of the body.

"When a child, I was undoubtedly sprightly: I could climb the hills which encompass this valley with the acti