excited imagination; it was not an error; after a moving prelude, whose interrupted notes bespoke the deepest melancholy, I heard, in a voice without method, but animated by sentiment, the following stanzas; Un brillant partèrre de fleurs Inclinait sa coupe vermeille, Et leurs calices réunis Du partère fesait la merveille.. Mais dans la brulante saison, Inclina sa coupe fletrie, Et leur calices réunis Ensemble perdirent la vie. Pour moi qui mettais mon bonheur Je vois encore près du lys La rose expirante et flétrie....... Devais-je conserver la vie ! The last lines were pronounced with an accent which excited tears; and whether grief, exhaled in doleful tones, had something in it more penetrating and communicative; whether the silence and solemnity of the night, the sight of the last mansion of man, and the predisposition of my lacerated heart, had prepared the way for the most tender emotions; I felt tears trickling down my cheeks.....and I also, exclaimed I, must mourn for the tender flowers levelled by the tempest. Charming rose, thou art no more for me! And thou, precious bud of this alliance, hast since inclined thy lovely head over the abyss of death. The voice had ceased, unmindful I continued my walk round the temple, and arrived before one of its lateral doors. Above the wall, which was here very high, I observed the undulations of some poplars, whose tremulous silvered foliage was contrasted with the dark and motionless fir trees. All seemed in unison to render this a scene of mourning; the area of the place is extensive and square, it resembles a tomb covered with the mantle of night, as with a funeral pall, over which the moon scatters its sepulchral rays. The door, before which I stood motionless, opened. I discovered a man above the middling size, whose head was covered with a large brimmed hat, and whose body was wrapped in an ample loose mantle ; he started at my aspect, and the sight of him communicated the same emotion to my frame. He soon composed himself, and advancing towards me...... Your presence here, and at this hour, said he to me, in a mild and agitated accent, tells me plainly, that I am discovered. I give myself up without resistance, because I am guiltless. Government cannot punish the tears of pity, as it might the regrets of conspirators. These last words led me to believe, that he who addressed them, supposed he was speaking to one of those agents, always cunning, often perfidious, placed every where like powerful pumps, by the hands of administration, to suck, as it were, the last drops of the secrets of society. I soon undeceived him, and assured him, that, chance alone had intruded me upon his confidence. But, added I, I will no longer allow myself to abuse it; depend, sir, on the most inviolable secrecy; and I had already taken leave of the unknown man, when seizing me by the hand in a lively manner, and squeezing it with a peculiar expression, he begged I would remain. He, said he to me, who like you at the dawn of life, takes pleasure in meditating on tombs, cannot be a wicked man; there is nothing to apprehend from him. Happy, in those sublime and perverse times, the man, who shuns the vanities of grandeur and the charms of voluptuousness, to come and rest on the ashes of the dead, to warm them with a few tears, and to forget, in their silent conversation, the perpetration of crimes and misfortunes; cultivate his natural faculties, and nourish the hope of immortality! Oh! answered I, such have always been my sentiments. I still love the living, though they have injured me much; but they have compelled me to reserve my esteem for the dead. During the day, I enjoy the fruits of their genius, and often at night, come to indulge reflection in their last mansion. Well young man, pursued the stranger with a graver and almost prophetic tone, if such is your desire, follow me. Let us cross this avenue of broken columns, let us pass under this demolished vault, whose arches threaten our heads; here lie the dead; let us enter and pray! I had followed my guide by the vacillating light of the moon; I had examined the body of the church, whose dreary walls echoed the noise of our footsteps. A door had opened, and from the spot where I stood, my eye plunged through the extent of a vast churchyard. A few walks of young poplars traversed it in various directions. An extensive carpet of a moist and dark verdure covered its surface; round several mounds of earth scattered in an irregular manner, some groups of yew trees had been planted, some fir and cypress trees, mingled with a few weeping willows, added to the sadness of the scenery. Five or six colossal statues, placed here and there, in a weeping attitude, seemed |