BEFORE returning to Clara, whom we left in anything but a satisfactory state of mind, we wish to introduce a family destined to form a conspicuous part in our history. This family consisted of the Honourable Mrs. Cleves, younger sister of Lady de Montmorency, and her two daughters, Frances and Clarice. Frances, the elder, was an heiress entitled to a large fortune left her by an uncle, only on condition of her remaining devoted to the Romish faith. It would be unjust to call her unamiable, yet she was certainly far less beloved than her younger sister. We will however allow the sisters to speak for themselves, by relating a conversation which passed on the day when Clarice, who was two years younger than Frances, commenced her seventeenth year.

"Well," said Clarice, "the die is cast! and Father Adrian is really coming to reside with us as confessor, priest, overseer, director, inspector-general, or what name can be found to embody these terms in one. Well, our house will be altered, if he be once established here. No more balls, no journeys to Paris, no more jokes at the expense of the worthy saints! Propriety, gravity, decorum the order of the day. Dear. gentle mamma completely led by the superior mind of her infallible guide. You, my worthy sister, first and last at your devotions, freely confessing all but how completely you are weary of long expositions, and poor Clarice unable to act the dissembler's part, continually incurring the displeasure of the holy father by her ill-timed levity." A smile, almost amounting to contempt, curled the lip of Frances: she however replied not. "Now tell me honestly for once, dear Frances, are you not sorry we are to have so prudent a guardian to prevent the possibility of our falling into error moral or intellectual?”

"I cannot be sorry," said Frances," for anything that our parent approves."

"Dear, obedient daughter, not sorry even to receive no more sealed letters, and read no more heretical books from one whom I mention not, lest he should eclipse him whom it seems, like the Eastern princesses, you are not to see till the happy day of union."

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A crimson flush passed across the brow of Frances, and lighted up her dark eye with unwonted brilliancy. Cease, Clarice, such foolish trifling; verily, there is in some people an inherent fondness for the sound of their own voice, though neither sense, wit, nor kindness proceed from their lips. Father Adrian's coming will indeed be a blessing, should he succeed in inspiring you either with a little more reverence for your religion, or respect for your friends."

"Forgive me, dear sister, I did not mean to offend you; but my foolish spirits always mislead me; yet if I have really hurt you, I shall not easily forgive myself."

"Hurt me, Clarice! except the pain such trifling always causes on your account, what can you have said to hurt me?" replied Frances, while the deeper tinge of crimson seemed to have called in question

the truth of her words. Clarice said no more, and soon after left the room. Frances for a moment pressed her hand to her temple, as she said, "It must not be; religion, duty alike forbid it." mechanically resumed her employment.

66

She then

Months passed by, and Father Adrian (now established at Ardennes, the name of the hall and village in which Mrs. Cleves resided) had made all and more than all the alterations that Clarice had playfully predicted. He belonged to the order of the Jesuits to which he was devoted, and was employing all the powers of a fine mind and most polished manners to promote the cause of error: he was sedulous in the discharge of all his duties, and indefatigable in his visits to the poor. There was, however, that about him which inspired awe and commanded obedience; he had travelled much, seen much of human nature, and knew how to make ordinary minds quail before him, Yet Father Adrian was not cruel, he wished to promote universal happiness; he felt pleasure in drying the orphan's tear, and administering comfort to the broken-hearted; above all he longed for the salvation of his flock; for this he rose early, and late took rest, and bitter would have been his disappointment had a voice from Heaven assured him it was but lost labour," for the road along which he toiled, and in which he sought to lead his flock, led not to the pastures of the Heavenly Shepherd, led not to the better land of promise, He told his flock indeed of that land, and warned them of the city of destruction in which they dwelt by nature;-he told them there was one way, and only one way, of escape one Church, out of whose pale there was no salvation; that Church, we need not add, was the Romish Church, so full of errors, so full of corruptions, so grievously departed from the simplicity of the Gospel. Oh, had he known Him, who says, I am the Way; had he first entered the fold by the door, the Chief Shepherd of the sheep; had he given his people to drink of the pure stream of Bible truth, instead of satisfying their thirst with the muddy pools of Romish tradition, then how many souls saved by his ministry might have blessed the hour he first proclaimed to them the way of salvation. But to resume our narrative. Father Adrian had not been long at the hall before he discovered that one of the family was prepared to yield him an unreserved obedience, and even to go beyond the rules he prescribed. This one was Frances, who, from the day of his arrival, spent her time in a round of self-imposed duties. We stop not here to analyze her motives, perhaps they were hardly known to herself; but we shall not be censorious if we express a fear that her good works were done to be seen of men, and thus she had her reward. Clarice, on the contrary, seemed totally indifferent to the opinions of Father Adrian, even to take a pleasure in ridiculing those duties for which he most commended her sister. Mrs. Cleves had early introduced her daughters to fashionable society and public amusement, in which Frances had appeared to take quite as much interest as her sister; but now she determined to withdraw herself from all society, and one morning, in the presence of Father Adrian, abruptly informed her mother she could no more be guilty of wasting her time in such vain and idle pursuits, adding she had already misspent too many precious days, and intended to atone for

her error by imitating those devoted saints who passed their time in self-denial and seclusion.

Surprised at this unexpected address, Mrs. Cleves gently remonstrated, but was overpowered by a burst of eloquent indignation, and an earnest appeal from Frances to Father Adrian to support her in the good resolutions she had formed, and in the midst of the persecutions she expected.

"I shall not persecute you," said her mother, whose eyes filled with tears, "all I request is, you will refrain from exhibiting a spirit which appears to me to savour more of pride than of religion,"

Father Adrian, turning to Frances, with extreme gentleness observed, "I admire your motives, my daughter, but would fain see your zeal tempered with more love and respect for those relatives who are so much entitled to affectionate consideration."

"Oh, Father," said Clarice, with her accustomed playfulness, which not even his presence could restrain, "do not blame my sister, she belongs to a superior order of beings, and we are not worthy of her consideration. It is indeed a pity dear Frances is not destined to be a nun; how happy, how holy she would be behind the massy walls and grated windows."

"Would to Heaven such might be my happy lot! never would vows have been more cheerfully made," said Frances, with deepest seriousness, and glancing an imploring look at Father Adrian, who meeting at the same time the astonished eye of Mrs. Cleves, and the suspicious gaze of Clarice, recollected a pressing engagement, and abruptly left the room. An awkward silence of a few moments followed, when Mrs. Cleves, to whose mind a painful though undefined idea had occurred, inquired in a voice of forced cheerfulness, "Are you earnest, Frances, in your newly expressed wish ?—if so, allow me to communicate your singular desire to one who may at least be interested in the intelligence."

An angry flush had mantled the cheek of Frances, who was about to return a haughty reply, when Clarice hastily interposed

"Believe me, dear mamma, my sister at present has no more intention of becoming a nun than she has of again transgressing your commands by reading heretical books; and if, which Heaven forbid, she should ever be prevailed on, Father Adrian will be the cause, since he is constantly speaking in such exalted terms of those useless and unhappy creatures who bury in the walls of nunneries and convents talents and affections given them to promote the happiness of others, so do for once be guided by the superior wisdom of your youngest daughter. Send away Father Adrian-warn cousin Hubert of the threatened danger, and let him plead his own cause more successfully than it has been pleaded for him." The entrance of visitors at this moment proved a welcome relief to Frances, who took the earliest opportunity of retiring to her own apartment, absorbed in feelings far from pleasing.

As we before remarked, Frances was an heiress, entitled to a large fortune left her by an uncle, who had also expressed a wish that a union might be formed between his niece and the hero of our tale. This was also a cherished scheme of Mrs. Cleves and Sir Hubert, the

latter seeing it was the only way of bestowing on his son that affluence he had not to give. Father Joachim had also warmly entered into this scheme, thinking he might possess that influence over his pupil and his fortune, which might promote his own as well as the interests of the Catholic faith. But this scheme met not with so cordial an approval on the part of Frances, who felt an unconquerable and perhaps an unreasonable dislike-a dislike which she took no pains to conceal from her mother and friends. Mrs. Cleves had hitherto yielded to her daughter's earnest entreaties at least to delay the visit of her cousin from time to time, knowing there was a determination of character in Frances which it were hopeless to drive to submission. It will readily be believed by those who know anything of the influence exercised by the Romish priests over the private affairs of their people, that Father Adrian was apprized of this scheme. Mrs. Cleves entreated him to use his influence over Frances, and to persuade her of the duty of submission on her part to the wish of her superiors. He listened attentively and respectfully to every word, promising to give the subject his serious attention, and burying in the secret chambers of his heart his determination not to second her views, as he had conceived very different views for Frances and her large fortune. Reports had reached him, for he had long been interested in the family movements, of the warm friendship between Hubert and the Protestant, Willoughby. Father Joachim had also informed him of the suspicious fact, that a New Testament had been received by Clara from the son of the heretics, Annette and Philippe. These circumstances were sufficient to alarm a watchful mind, and to justify him in believing the interests of the Church would be more effectually promoted by his persuading the heiress of Cleves to endow a nunnery, and become Lady Abbess of the same. He well knew the character he had to deal with in Frances, whose mind was naturally ardent and enthusiastic; her talents were by no means contemptible, and ambition was a ruling feature in her disposition. He would not even to her, hint at his views, but he took every opportunity of extolling a life of seclusion spent in heavenly contemplation, far from a world of strife, turmoil, and temptation. He often spoke in exalted strains of glowing ardour of one crown more radiant, more rich than others. This crown was reserved for martyrs and those who voluntarily resigned the world, and in the days of their youth and beauty dedicated themselves alone to their God. It mattered little to Father Adrian how many bitter tears were shed in secret by the young and the simple-hearted, induced under the influence of overwrought feelings of excited enthusiasm to pronounce Vows that severed them for ever from the natural friends of their youth, and the innocent enjoyment of social and domestic affection.It mattered little how many parents' hearts bled with anguish as they parted from the child they had reared from infancy, and fondly hoped to have kept as the solace of declining age. Oh no! these young people, these parents, were private individuals; their feelings were private feelings-the public cause of the Church was thus promoted more power given into the hands of the priests; and why to obtain this desirable end should not family hopes be blighted, and the widow

taught to smother her anguish, and rejoice that her child, self-devoted to the Church on earth, would thus merit a glorious crown in Heaven? "Where is your mistress?" said Clarice to the servant, in a lively though hurried tone of voice, as she hastily sprang from her horse on returning from her accustomed ride, "I wish to see her particularly."

"I am sorry for it," said the old man, smiling goodnaturedly, "for she gave me strict orders not to interrupt her she has been for some time in the library with his reverence."

Clarice looked grave suddenly, unusually grave. The old man noticed the change. "I hope, dear lady, your business is not so important that the delay will distress you?"

"Oh no," said she again, smiling, "my business was pleasure, folly, dissipation, a new and sudden plan for this evening's amusement; it matters not now. But John," added she, addressing the servant who held her horse, "have you taken any letters to the post to-day ?"

He replied that he had taken several for Father Adrian.

Was it artifice that led Clarice suddenly to recollect that the child of the mistress of the post-office was sick? was it artifice that led her at the hour when she knew the good woman was busily engaged in sorting the letters, to arrive at her house laden with fruits and delicacies for the sick child, and while the mother hastened to carry them to her dear invalid, was it artifice in Clarice to read the direction of the letters, and then to leave the cottage with thanks for the kindness that had brought her thither. It might be so; but Clarice would find justification for far worse degrees of deceit in the Romish doctrine, the end justifies the means; still in this instance she would have saved herself many an hour passed in the land of perplexity had she not striven to fathom the unfathomable. One of these letters was addressed to Sir Hubert, another to Father Joachim, a third to the Superior of the Jesuits at Rome, and a fourth to the Abbess of the convent in the next town. Clarice hoped to learn from her mother something respecting the morning interview; she, however, hoped in vain. Mrs. Cleves seemed to have imbibed an air of mystery from the atmosphere she had breathed, and baffled every attempt made by her daughter to discover the nature of their conversation, though she appeared more than usually cheerful and attentive to both her daughters. Clarice, however, noticed from that day Father Adrian ceased to expatiate on the happiness of a life of seclusion.

Two months more had passed since the conversation last related, when a carriage covered with dust rolled up the long avenue of trees that led to the hall, and starting from a train of painful recollections to the consciousness the journey was now accomplished, Hubert, the hero of our tale, handed his sister from the carriage, and prepared to meet relatives they had not seen since the days of childhood. The cordial welcome and warm-hearted kindness of her aunt and Clarice soon chased the shade of sadness from Clara's brow; not so with Hubert, the settled melancholy of whose countenance told more forcibly than words, that the last three months had been months of sorrow. Father Adrian was not a stranger to Hubert, having occasionally seen him in Paris; the latter was much pleased to meet with one held in great repute for talents and piety, indeed Hubert had frequently