dissolve, the banks would bloom again, and the linden trees, under which he walked, wave their green heads in all the pride of their vernal livery!

"Ah!" said he, "my destiny is indeed sealed! Unhappy I must be, disgraced I may be; but my innocence no one shall wrest from me."

An humble chapel reared its grey walls in his path, and the feeble chant of the few aged brothers, to whom its service was entrusted, was borne by the cold blast upon his ear: he accepted the invitation, and, prostrate before the altar, renewed, with added solemnity and devotion, that vow which he had lately breathed in the presence of Desmond, fervently demanding the aid of Heaven for the maintenance of his principles; for whatever reliance he placed in his own integrity, he knew, and acknowledged, that the favour of God could alone preserve it unshaken.

CHAPTER XIV.

"And Folly, as it grows in years,
The more extravagant appears."

Hudibras.

VALLENSTEIN had felt such true comfort in his communings with Heaven, as induced him to spend a considerable time in devotion; and when he came forth from the chapel, he was surprised to find many of the actors in the revels of the preceding night collected in their Polish cloaks, some on the banks, some on the surface of the Danube, walking, skating, or skimming along in their light traineaux. Scarcely had he crossed the threshold of the holy place, when he was accosted by Count Harrach, with

"Ah, nephew! you are an example indeed to the dissipated, thoughtless youth of the age! You need not blush,

sir: upon my word you are a most exemplary young man!”

Vallenstein, in fact, cared not who saw whence he came; but he was provoked by his uncle's absurd and sycophantic panegyric, and would willingly have escaped the gay groups entirely; but his affectionate uncle would not part with him.

"Do you know," said he, " my illustrious and ever-beloved brother, his exceliency the Duke of Friedland, mindful, as every great man should be, of the prosperity of his relatives, has presented me with a regiment in the handsomest manner? It is not the thing itself—it is not the distinction-it is not the emolument-but, Casimir, it is the manner of the thing. It went to my very soul, I assure you, Casimir."

And, assisted by the keenness of the air, his emotion evinced itself by the redness of his eyes.

"Upon my soul!" continued he, "the

Duke of Friedland is a great man, a pro

digious great man! They tell me he dispenses regiments, titles, and estates, like a sovereign prince! To Baron Holk, they say, he has given the choice of four estates, each containing upwards of fifteen populous villages. One idolizes such a man! I declare, positively, I look upon his excellency with unspeakable feelings; in short, I consider him by many degrees the very first man in Europe."

Having reached this climax, he stopt to take breath, when Professor Westermann and Lindau joined them, at once, from different quarters. The kindhearted Professor had, the preceding night, regaled the company with an ode on the occasion of the gala, happily commemorating the former victories of the Duke of Friedland, and presaging future ones: it was an animated and brilliant composition, the joint production of his heart and head; for Westermann, like the bards of old, beheld military glory with a sparkling eye, and was ever ready to smite his lyre in its celebration: his eu

logiums on distinguished worth or valour were, in quality as well as fashion, as opposite as possible from those of Count Harrach, with whom self-interest was ever the inspiring principle. Westermann 'walked in the light of song,' and never condescended deliberately to flatter any man; while, on the other side, no one ever knew him guilty of lending a hand to precipitate the falling. Poor Lindau looked wan and sad, but affected his usual light-heartedness.

"Ah!" cried Westermann, as he met him, "where is the snowdrop, the prim rose pale? Where is the interesting Ulrica? The little malcontent! she did not assist at our triumph last night!"

"Alas!" said Lindau, his studied smile vanishing, and his cheek flushing with manly feeling, "she assists at no triumphs! The flowers you speak of are just emblems of my sweet sister; she is an early spring-flower, born never to reach the summer!"

Westermann's eyes owned the sharp