What is life, so full of vain and fleeting pro- | political purposes. Then flying all at once jects, but a dream? However it may be, the dreams of my unfortunate friends were soon realized. Paul died two months after the death of his Virginia, with her name on his lips. A week after the death of her son, Margaret saw her last hour approach with a joy which only virtue can experience. She bade Madame de la Tour a most tender farewell, in the hope, as she said, of a delightful and eternal reunion. "Death is the greatest of blessings," added she, "and we ought to desire it. If life is a punishment, we ought to wish for its end; if it is a trial, we should ask that it may be short.” The Governor took care of Domingo and Mary, who were no longer able to labor, and who survived their mistresses but a short time. As for poor Fidéle, he pined to death soon after he lost his master. I took Madame de la Tour to my own home. She bore her great losses with incredible fortitude. She had consoled Paul and Margaret even to their last moments, as if she had only their sorrows to bear. When they were no more, she talked to me of them every day, as of beloved friends who were living near her. She survived them, however, only a month. Far from reproaching her aunt for the afflictions she had caused, she prayed God to pardon her, and to appease that remorse which we heard began to torment her immediately after she had sent Virginia away with so much inhumanity. to the other extreme, she abandoned herself They laid Paul by the side of Virginia, at the foot of the same trees, and near them their tender mothers and their faithful ser This unnatural relative received the punishment of her harshness. I heard on the successive arrival of several vessels that her torment was so great that life and death were equally insupportable to her. Sometimes she reproached herself with the untimely vants. No marble marks the spot of their fate of her lovely niece, and the death of her mother which so soon followed it. At other times she congratulated herself for having repulsed two wretched creatures, who she said had dishonored their family by their low inclinations. Sometimes she would fly into a rage at the sight of the many miserable beggars with which Paris abounds, and exclaim, "Why do they not send these idle creatures to perish in our colonies?" As for the notions of humanity, virtue, and religion adopted by all nations, she said they were only the inventions of their rulers to serve humble graves, no inscription records their virtues; but their memory is indelibly engraved on the hearts of those they have befriended. Their spirits do not need the display that they shunned during their lives; but if they still take an interest in what passes on earth, they no doubt love to wander beneath the roofs of those dwellings inhabited by industrious virtue; to console unhappy poverty, to cherish in the hearts of lovers unchanging fidelity, a taste for the blessings of nature, the love of labor, and the fear of riches. PAUL AND VIRGINIA. The voice of the people, which is often silent as to the monuments raised to kings, has given to several parts of this island names which will immortalize the loss of Virginia. Near the Isle of Amber, in the midst of the rocks, is a place called “The Pass of the Saint Géran," from the name of the vessel which brought her from Europe and was wrecked there. The extremity of that long point of land which you see three leagues from here, half covered by the waves, which the Saint Géran could not double the night before the hurricane to enter the port, is called "The Cape of Misfortune"; and before us, at the end of the valley, is the "Bay of the Tomb," where Virginia was found shrouded in sand, as if the sea had wished to restore her corpse to her family, and render the last duties to her modesty on the shores that she had honored by her innocence. 699 Young lovers so tenderly united! Unfortunate mothers! Beloved family! These woods which lent you their shade, these fountains which flowed for you, these hillsides where you rested together, still deplore your loss. Since then no one has dared to cultivate this desolate spot or occupy these humble cottages. Your goats have become wild, your orchards are destroyed, your birds have fled, and nothing is heard but the cry of the hawks as they whirl above this rocky basin. As for me, since I no longer see you, I am as a friend without friends, a father who has lost his children, a traveller who wanders over the earth where he remains alone. With these words the good old man burst into tears and left me; my own had flowed more than once during this sad recital. |