what we might denominate the waywardness of its children; and you and I may yet be spared to see, though may the Father of mercies avert my secret misgivings! that poor Emily's error has not been unnoticed by the tender watchfulness of Him, who rebukes and chastens the objects of his affection. CHAP. IX. "They loved; and such their passion was, as heaven As breathed in Eden, ere our parents fell: It was night when Alphonzo withdrew from the haunts of men, and retired to the solitary banks of the Rhone. It rolled onward, as ever it will do until the mountains, whence it derives its waters, have been removed from their place, and are found no more,* little caring for the joys or sorrows of the generations, that had been At ille Labitur, et labetur in omne volubilis ævum."-HOR. something more may be said in palliation of her error, and a greater degree of compassion, at least, may be extended to her, without trespassing on the sacred limits of duty or propriety. Emily was young, and had lived secluded from the world. Her own family, and the poor of her neighbourhood, had long formed almost the entire circle of her acquaintance. Her imagination, therefore, ardent as we know it to be, and doubtless, my love, not retained in due subjectionthat subjection which brings into captivity. every thought to the obedience of Christ'would look for some kindred being with whom its wanderings might cease, and might naturally rest on the young lord of Mertenburg. The human heart, as it is, seeks, and ever will seek, a repose. Like the shipwrecked mariner, grasping the first plank that floats within his reach, and still clinging to it, though another may pass him by with greater promise of safety, lest in the struggle of exchange, he should be overwhelmed in the abyss, the affections will often twine, around that with which they have blended their earliest hopes and fears, beyond the power of separation in after-life, unless that separation be effected by the dissevering of ties, whose disruption is attended with the most painful sensations." “That is all I contend for in Emily's behalf," said Mrs. Villaret. "A moment, my dear; I have not concluded my remarks. Though such may be the natural effect of an early attachment, I must still be permitted to believe what I have stated, that that heart cannot have been kept with all the diligence implied in the precept, which is allowed to produce such agitation as we have witnessed. And I have no doubt but Emily will feel this herself, when calmer moments of reflection succeed. She may not have been aware of the danger to which she was exposing herself: that, however, is now but too apparent, and will not elude her own maturer observation. "And besides, my love, though my prayers shall ever attend both her and Alphonzo, experience would lead me to believe, that the Divine disposal seldom accords with |