idolatress; but who, he added, combined such an amiable disposition with the certain expectation of future greatness, that he was determined to overlook her idolatry and to solicit her hand. The Barons, somewhat surprized at the concluding words of his address, would have made objections to this resolution, but before they had time to recover themselves, Baldwin rose from his seat. Love would not permit him to remain any longer, he flew to his beaute ous Eldore, and made her a tender of his hand and his heart. "Your hand I see, and the sincerity of your heart I have no occcasion to doubt," replied she with a look of dignity ;—" but, Baldwin, where is the kingdom that authorizes you to solicit an alliance with the daughter of a king?" The confounded prince stood for some time speechless. It might be supposed that such an auswer would have offended him, and yet it served only to inflame his desire still more strongly. In his eyes Eldore's charms increas- || ed with her haughtiness; he was so tender, so pressing, so persevering, that, at length, he carried his point. He was admitted to the bed of Eldore; and she shared his grandeur. The happiness of a husband is a sail, filled according as the wind of the wife's caprice happens to blow.-Lore is most asssuredly the most precious boon bestowed on man; but love in the conjugal union untinctured with interest is extremely rare. It is only at a high price that the wife in general sells her husband the pleasures of matrimony. Obstinacy, jealousy, insatiable pretensions, compel repayment with usury; and both the prince and the private individual are in general doomed alike to repent their choice. he had again sacrificed his will to her wishes, it is extraordinary that an Asiatic should so exactly resemble our European women in her dispositions, and in her desire of subjecting every thing, and especially her husband to her sway! And I, who once knew not what compliance meant-I, who have been accustomed to see every word pass for a command, am now subservient to all the caprices of a woman!Who can forbear being astonished; and who has more reason to be surprized at it than myself! A year had already elapsed since their union, and Eldore presented her husband with a lovely boy. A courier had been dispatched to Asia, but he did not come back. A second was sent off, and his return was looked for in vain. The hoped for kingdom was continually uppermost in the thoughts of the Count. He measured, be embellished, he peopled and enlarged it; he gave it new laws; he enriched it with arts and sciences; he persuaded his mighty father-in-law to admit him to a participation in the throne; and even prevailed on him to resign the fatigues of business, to pass his declining years in retirement, and to be satisfied with witnessing the activity and the achievements of his son. Nothing was so sweet and so flattering to Baldwin as this prospect and these reveries. But the most pleas ing reverie in the end tires, and the long unaccomplished dreams of his imagination were at length productive of impatience. Eldore soon remarked this disposition of his mind. "Are you not happy then?"-she would frequently ask him. "Not content with the possession of a wife who adores you? For your sake I forget a kingdom which I was born to inherit; and cannot you banish from your thoughts one which you merely hope to obtain? Do not I-does not the pledge of our love deserve all your tenderness? Why should you suffer the dreams of ambition incessantly to disturb your repose? What empire can be fairer than the possession of a heart? What subjects can be compared with those whom love and nature procure us?" The Countess seemed to be perfectly in the right. Baldwin, as often as he received this Baldwin soon had abundant reasons for this kind of repentance, for never was husband more completely subject to a wife. It was not indeed with that arbitrary tone, with that shameless and ever-varying caprice, or with that irritating obstinacy, that Eldore ruled. She knew but too well that such conduct would finally be punished with hatred and contempt, and her art therefore consisted in gentle intreaties, imperceptible and yet resolute, op-reproof, fell upon his kness and implored her position, apparent timidity, flattering caresses, and those dangerous weapons-tears. All the powers of wit, all the charins of conversation, and all the glow of fancy were hers. By degrees she rivetted her chains too firmly to be shaken off, before the affectionate Baldwin conceived the slightest suspicion of any intention of the kind. forgiveness, but yet his eyes were always turned towards Asia; his impatience of the delay became daily more manifest; in vain he strove to repress it; his heart was every moment on his lips. "But", he at length exclaimed, "where the d- is this kingdom? If it is so very large it cannot be at such an excessive distance. Its It is extraordinary, thought he often, when prodigious extent would in that case bring it nearer to our part of the world. At any rate the capital cannot be at its remotest corner. Have you made no mistake in your directions relative to the way thither?" "None," replied she smiling; "but it is far, very far to it. So many mountains and rivers and seas intervene, that our couriers will often find themselves at a loss during the journey." "That I can believe; but people that have a tongue can ask the way, and so get forward. Zounds! I think that with my tongue I could find the way to the world's end." "And nothing short of that our couriers have to go. Asia is very far distant; at the extremity of Asia lies my father's kingdom; nay, if I am not mistaken, there is another kingdom between." "And if there were thirty between ;-ways Inust exist every where; there must be people coming and going, who would listen to and direct one." "Ono, my dear. I recollect that for a very long time I did not meet with a living creature; I even remember that after travelling across a desart for at least two months together, I came to a kind of funnel, which it was extremely difficult to creep through, and which brought me at last to the shore of a prodigious sea." "What! the way to your country leads through a funnel! A pretty story truly you attempt to palm upon me!” "Nothing can be more true. I always heard that my hereditary dominions were very little known and frequented, and perhaps that may be owing to this same funnel." The hermit was now admitted. He had one of those uncommon countenances which denote the soul of a saint, combined with the understanding of a philosopher. Grave, and yet animated in company, he could mingle, without lowering himself, among the throng of the courtiers. He was sure to obtain respect when he assumed an air of familiarity, and he was still more sure to command it when he spoke in a serious manner. For virtue dwelt in his discourses, persuasion hung upon his lips; he seldom made use of the emphatic tone, but a cheerful smile almost always played upon his countenance. The Count advanced a few steps to meet him, and testified his joy at his long deferred visit. The old man bowed and said :-" Your kindness, my Lord, makes a deep impression upon me. I am come to offer you some fruit out of my garden, and a fruit of a much more uncommon species,-truth and good advice. A report concerning you, which long appeared to me incredible, has penetrated to my lonely retreat. You have been married, I am told, above a year; and to au Asiatic princess, the heiress to an extensive kingdom." "Yes, venerable father; the prospect of a throne has awakened my ambition. The idolatry of my wife, to be sure, now and then embitters my domestic 'happiness a little, but that I thought I might at first overlook." "It is with pleasure that I too, at times, make some allowance for human foibles; but I cannot help finding some fault with you. I am told that the existence of this kingdom is by no means certain. You have, therefore, married Eldore, upon her bare word, and without inquiring where the dominions of her father were situated. You have sent to make these inquiries, but your messengers do not return. It is now to be sure rather too late for an inquiry of this kind; for if we entertain the idea of making a considerable sacrifice for the possession of an object, we ought at least to have ascertained the existence of that ob Baldwin's impatience increased with every word, and Eldore continued to laugh. "What!" cried he, “do you laugh at me? Can you entertain the foolish design of turning me into ridicule ? I cannot, and will not believe so." "If you did you would be egregiously mistaken. I only smile," continued she, giving him a look of the utmost tenderness, "because I see that you have set your heart upon such a trifle. I wish with all my soul that our couri-ject.” ers may soon return, that my father would resign his throne to you, and that in the mean time he may have subjected ten other kingdoms to his crown. Still you would be my only joy. Come kiss your boy! Beg my pardon, and behave better in future." Baldwin was going to reply, when a hermit was announced, who came but very seldom to visit the Count, though he always met with a welcome reception. Eldore, as soon as his name was mentioned, took up her lap-dog on one arm and her child in the other, and withdrew. "I perfectly agree in your opinion,” replied the Count, "but permit me to answer, that there are certain illusions which cannot be imagined, certain tales which cannot be invented." "No, prince, no; to sovereigns who, like you, presume that respect alone will restrain the impostor, every thing is represented in a false light. I am convinced that there is not a servant whom you feed at your court, from the most cunning to the most stupid, who would not have the courage to impose some absurdity upon you; and for this reason the court of a great prince, when he relies with too much security upon his greatness, may be converted into a rendezvous of contemptible jugglers and mountebanks. But to return from this digression to Eldore.-You have already allowed my zeal for your welfare many a liberty, it is therefore my duty, as I have already observed, to bring to your ears the tribute of truth and of bold advice. Petty hints dropped by accident, leave for the little minds of cour imposed upon Baldwin, and whom he had married. Flames issued from Eldore's nose, mouth, and eyes; ber breath resembled fiery clouds; a horrible abyss opened under her feet. All the courtiers betook themselves to flight from so dangerous a neighbourhood, and Baldwin was one of the foremost; but the hermit beckoned, and all of them, against their will, stood as if rooted to the spot. He then unloosed the cord which served him for a tiers. It is but fair that insects of this kindgirdle, and scourged the infernal spirit with should be of some use, and perform some service to the prince in returù for his money; but to suppose that among this crowd there is a man possessing sufficient courage and magnauimity to risk even his life for you, would be the height of folly. Hearken to me, therefore, hearken prince, when I tell you, that you are slumbering in indiscrcet repose on the abrupt brink of a bottomless abyss! Hearken to me when I announce, that he whose throne is The Count, and the throng of courtiers, now exalted above the thrones of all the monarchs recovered the power of motion. The latter of this earth, has sent me to require you to were again going to retire, probably to take invite me for once to your table in the pre-hartshorn after such a terrible fright, when sence of your wife; for it is only before her that I can disclose the complete object of my mission." such severity, that he writhed so piteously, and howled so terribly, as at last to make the spectators almost feel compassion for the devil himself. He was obliged to confess, in the hearing of all, that he was the Demon of || Pride, and was then commanded to be gone to his abyss. He did not wait for this injunction to be repeated; he vanished, and with him the supposed infant prince. the hermit again commanded them to remain, and turning to Baldwin, he thus addressed bin: "My mission is yet but half accomplished. Know, that God would not abandon thee a prey to the Tempter who so often would fain have carried thee away to his kingdom, after which thou so eagerly aspiredst; but thy ambition must at least be punished. Thou re Never had any one yet ventured to speak to Baldwin in this tone; neither was he pleased with the request of the hermit; for he was most tenderly attached to his wife; he foresaw that this repast would not be one of the most agreeable, and was afraid of afilicting her. At the same time there was something in thejectedst the hand of a king's daughter; kings countenance and manner of the hermit that commanded respect. An inexpressible agitation overpowered Baldwin's soul; he imagined that he saw and heard the voice of the deity himself, and felt himself constrained to obey. He likewise promised to comply with the injunction of the hermit not to mention a word of what had passed to Eldore. Dinner was soon afterwards served up. Eldore had already seated herself; around her stood a number of courtiers. The Count took his place, and last of all, as it had been agreed, the hermit entered the dinner ball. Eldore cast her eyes upon him; and instantly her face was horribly distorted. She pushed back her chair, and was going to rise. "Stop, reprobate spirit," cried the hermit aloud:-"stop, and await thy merited punishment! Down with the mask, pretended princess of Asia! Look at me, and tremble before the messenger of God!. Thou wilt arrive timely enough in thine infernal abude." What a spectacle, terrific beyond description, now presented itself! It was manifest that it was no other than the devil himself, who had || || have their avengers in heaven; listen therefore to the decrce of heaven! For the space of forty days shall the proud Baldwin daily perform public penance in the church. Forty days shall he, on leaving the church at its principal entrance, and in the presence of the people, present his bare back to the meanest of his scullions, and each time receive fiveand-twenty stripes. When these forty days of penance are over, when these thousand stripes are duly inflicted, let him repair to Rome, and obtain pardon of the Pope. But if he fails to comply with one of these injunctions, if but one of these stripes is given to the haughty Count and not to the penitent sinner, his fair consort will prepare a treat for him in her | kingdom." The holy man then retired without waiting for an answer. His commands were certainly a new thunder-bolt for the proud Count; but the terrific threat annexed to them would have extorted even still more painful sacrifices. The very next day he continued a full hour upon his knees before the altar; the very next day the scullion scourged his master with all his might. The crowd of courtiers laughed in, their hearts; but nevertheless they could not forbear flattering their lord-for what subject is there on which flattery is not employed?— | on his heroic fortitude, and the manly beauty of his uncovered body. himself; a hundred times did he beg the whole story to be related over again, and after all he could not give credit to it. At length a jolly old priest, weary of these everlasting repetiti ons, whispered these words :-"Has your Holiness been seated so short a time in the chair of St. Peter? Is the circumstance so wholly unprecedented? How many husbands have we already heard complaining of exceed them, would he not there too find devils to drive out?" Forty days were now past; forty hours he had knelt; and a thousand stripes (often did the Count wonder at the rapidity with which the hermit calculated their number) had beeningly bad wives? If the hermit were to visit juflicted. From Paris, and from beyond the sea, people had assembled to behold such an extraordinary spectacle, and ten academies were already engaged in discussing the question:-Whether it was Beelzebub or Lucifer that had disguised himself in the form of Eldore? The Count paid no regard to this! dispute; happy that he had endured his punishment, he flew to Rome, and at the feet of the Pope, implored pardon for his sins. A hundred times did the Holy Father cross "Indeed you are right," replied the Pope. "Many a one would I dare say endure ten thousand stripes to be quit of what this fool has at so cheap a rate got rid of."--On this he gave him his benediction, accompanied with the command to go to Palestine to fight for the cause of God, after he had so long maintained a connection with his mortal enemy. LOVE AND SUICIDE. STINGELHEIM, the hero of this story was of noble extraction; his family resided at Munich in Bavaria. He received his education at the academy of Cadets in that city, where his physical as well as moral faculties were very early developed. His lively temper, and ardent constitution, rendered him at a very tender age an admirer of the fair sex, but long before nature awakened those sensations which are so intimately blended with humanity, his heart felt the want of a congenial female soul. He sought among his townswomen an object on whom he could fix his affections and his choice fell upon Marianne Riedlin, a young woman equally beautiful, innocent, and virtuous. But Marianne was poor; she was not of noble descent; two circumstances which in the eyes of Stingelheim's parents rendered her for ever unworthy of the honour of being their daughter-inlaw. Love levels all ranks, and Stingelheim's head and heart exalted him above all the prejudices which worthless men have invented to conceal their weakness. He loved the girl, and had he possessed a throne and been at liberty to act as he pleased, he would have shared it with her. But he had parents to whom he was attached, and on whom his temporal prosperity depended. He could therefore, do nothing but hope that time and circumstances would produce some favourable change, and that love, which has often brought about what seemed impossible, would perform miracles in bis behalf. Stingelheim long endeavoured in vain to inspire Marianne with the same sentiments by which he was himself animated. The virtuous Marianne well knew the great distance which there was between herself and the opulent Baron Von Stingelheim, and long resisted all his tender addresses. The solicitations of the handsome youth, however, at length prevailed; and overpowered by love, she sunk into his arms and confessed her passion. It is impossible to describe the extasy with which Stingelheim received this confession. In the first transports of his joy, he promised her every thing that love could dictate. He forgot that he had parents whose malediction attended his vows of eternal constancy and affection, and did not foresee that this hour of delight would embitter all the rest of his life. The difficulty of seeing and conversing with each other daily increased, and this tended only to strengthen their attachment. Stingelheim knew no other pleasure than what he received from the company of his Marianne or when his imagination pictured the felicity he should enjoy when he could call her his own. As for Marianne, her whole existence was interwoven with his; he was her only happiness, her only delight; to him she had surrendered herself and all that she had to give, a heart replete with innocence, and a reputation free from blemish. who had disgraced their rank, and with a coldness and obduracy which nothing but the pitiful pride of birth is capable of producing, they turned a deaf ear to his remonstrances, and consigned their child to indigence and misery. Destitute and forsaken by all mankind, the unhappy Stingelheim was on the brink of despair, when he was relieved by those persons whom his parents so much despised as to think themselves dishonoured by their son's connection with them. They contrived to give the unfortunate family some succour from their own scanty income which at least secured them from the attacks of hunger during the severe winter of that year. One day when Stingelheim came to her with a joyful countenance that announced good news, he found Marianne more tenderly disposed than usual. He had mistaken an expression of his father's, and given it a more favourable interpretation than it authorized; and the affectionate Marianne readily believed what Stingelheim told her. The blood of both was inflamed by the effusions of mutual tenderness. Stingelheim was very young, only sixteen, and Marianne was not so old by a year. The place, the time, in a word every thing was favourable to the mysteries of love. Marianne sunk into his arms.-They fancied it the hap-broke out. Some friends whom Stingelheim piest hour of their lives, but alas! it involved the remainder of their days in misery. A few months afterwards, Marianne, with downcast looks and. averted face, informed him that she perceived symptoms which must lead to a disclosure of their secret. He strove to comfort her and to dry her tears, swearing not to forsake her in her distress, and to make arends as far as lay in his power for what he bad done. Stingelheim revealed every thing to his parents, but his filial confidence was repaid with a severe reprimand. After long debates, and vehement reproaches, he, at length, receiv ed permission to offer Marianne a small sum of money as a compensation for the loss of happiness and innocence; but his declaration that he would make her his by a legal marriage was treated with ridicule, and he was told that if he was ever guilty of such egregious folly, he should be infallibly disinherited. Stingelheim possessed a generous soul; though young in years, he was old in understanding. Deeply sensible of the wretched condition to which he had reduced Marianne, he was ready and willing to cover her shame, since it was not in his power to restore her to happiness. Six weeks after the priest had, in 1778, given the nuptial benediction, Marianne, then no more than sixteen, was delivered of a daughter, who was baptized by the name of Louisa; and the youthful busband, destitute of every thing for the support of his unfortunate wife and infant, found himself and those objects of his affection exposed to the horrors of indigence, hunger, and want. He threw himself at the feet of his parents, conjuring them not to force him to curse the existence he had received from them. They however, beheld in him not their son, but one || About this time the Bavarian succession war met with, and whom the virtuous unfortunate are always sure to find, gave him hopes of procuring a commission in the army, and even promised him their recommendation, when they discovered that he had made extraordinary progress in the science of tactics during his education in the academy of Cadets. He travelled on foot to Ratisbon, obtained by means of his friends access to the Prussian ambassador, and through his patronage an Ensign's commission in the regiment of Münster. Full of joy, he hastened back to his weeping Marianne, gave her the little money he had received from his friends, once more embraced his young wife and blessed their infant, after which the generous youth tore himself from these objects of his love, and followed the call of the trumpet which summoned him to the field. He remained but a few days at Berlin before he joined his regiment, and in a short time he was present at the first engagement. The campaign, in which he displayed great bravery and received some severe wounds, lasted but a few months, after which, as the reward of his faithful services, he, with many other soldiers of merit, was discharged. All his efforts to procure employment in Berlin were unavailing. He found himself again exposed to want and misery, and besides had left at home a wife and child, from whom he had received no intelligence for three years. Despair made him an author, and he wrote a "Brief History of the Prussian Campaign in Bohemia." Hunger has made many a man take up the pen, but certainly very few have been transformed into authors by despair. Stingelheim was in no little embarrassment, which proceeded from modest diffidence in his abilities, when the bookseller to whom he of fered his manuscript inquired with a certain |