The poor minstrel, restored to an almost unwelcome life, availed himself of an opportunity of flying from the scene of horror and of danger, by hastily repairing on board a small boat, frail, and roughly made, such as is now often constructed at Lyons for the purpose of descending the rapid stream of the Rhone to Avignon-a voyage most agreeable to those whose minds are sufficiently tranquil to contemplate the picturesque scenes which continually present themselves on either bank; but with what feelings now undertaken by Riccolto is better imagined than described. He repeatedly played and sung to his companions, some of whom had drank deep of the cup of woe in that period of national calamity and distraction, a few irregular stanzas, of which the following may be taken as a translation. They were a plaintive expression of the secret sorrow of his heart.

Rapidly and mournfully.

Glides the stream of life away.

O my harp! to-day--to-morrow,
Give the deep-toned notes of sorrow;
As a boon, a boon I crave,

The lowly, lonely, loathsome grave.

Twill be a rest, a rest I ween,

From this world's dark and troubled scene.

Let the current glide away,

Rapidly and mournfully,
Into eternity.

Yet on the dark, dark stream,
There is a transient gleam :

Ah! is it the sparkle of hope I see?
Or is it the lightning glare of destiny?
Is it a reflection bright

From the blessed realms of light?

Or is it the flash of the vengeful sword,
Drawn at the Almighty word?

O my harp! to-day-to-morrow,
Give the deep-tones notes of sorrow;
Bid the stream of life away,

Rapidly and mournfully,

Into eternity!

While Riccolto was thus descending "the rapid Rhone," his sister had taken a different direction, pursuing her mournful and solitary way towards Grenoble and the Alps. Her only resource was the employment of her skill in that pleasing art to which she had addicted herself. In this manner she picked up a precarious subsistence during several years; wandering from cottage to cottage, and from village to village; often inspiring hilarity in which she could not participate, and sometimes diffusing a personal influence, of which her native modesty rendered her unconscious.

A circumstance, however, at length occurred, which became the means of transplanting the lily from the lowly vale of obscurity and want, to the garden of village notoriety and moderate competence. A little rural festival was held in one of the districts of the Piedmontese valleys, whither she had wandered, to which a great number of the very limited population had resorted from those humble cottages which are scattered here and there over the declivities of the mountains, as on the sides of a vast amphitheatre. Amongst others, our minstrel was attracted to the spot, happy in an occasion of obtaining a few sous in exchange for her simple melodies. The lord of the feast, who was the inhabitant of a petty, though not magnificent edifice, and the owner of a small domain of cultivated vines, was attracted no less by the performer than the performance; and beheld, through all the disguise of poverty, a certain indescribable superiority of manner, which led him to

conjecture other exalted qualities. He intimated his wish to become more familiar with the songs and melodies that were to him the best amusement on this festive occasion, and did not hesitate, therefore, to intimate a wish for the repetition of them at his own dwelling on the following day. It was then his first impressions were confirmed, which ultimately led to her exaltation to the rank of his companion for life. She who had borne adversity well, was not wholly unprepared for the proper enjoyment and use of sudden prosperity; till at length, in the maturity of the noblest principles, she eminently adorned her comparatively elevated sphere.

Madame Froissart (for such was the new name she had acquired with her station) failed not to conciliate the universal esteem of her neighbours and dependents. It was to her a source of pure and perpetual gratification to visit the humble cottages of the district; to associate with their lowly tenants during their labours in the vineyards, where she would often recount the sorrowful adventures of her own wandering life; and to alleviate the sufferings of the wretched, by charitable distributions. As years rolled on, an infant family engaged her domestic solicitude; to whom she imparted, as she had now received, the best principles. Her husband was a descendant of one of the persecuted inhabitants of the valleys, and her mind had been gradually led to feel the life-inspiring influence of genuine religion. The prejudices of early life had, indeed, taken a deep root, but had been gradually eradicated; the extreme darkness of her mind had been effectually dissipated, though slowly, by the light of revelation. Monsieur Froissart had himself become greatly influenced by a translation of the writings of some eminent divines, which the assiduity of British benevolence and piety had sent, with the Scriptures, into these Alpine recesses; and, already prepared by adversity for the impressions of religion, she read attentively, and at length imbibed entirely, the truth and the spirit of the heavenly records. It became one of her first cares to impart the same instruction to her rising family, and then to diffuse it among the poor population of her vicinity.

About this period the attention of several foreign countries, particularly of England, had been awakened to the necessities of these descendants of the Waldenses; and as the restoration of peace in Europe had facilitated their means of communication, various benevolent plans were put into execution for their benefit. The schools of the district were encouraged by pecuniary aid, and new ones established. Of these, Madame Froissart undertook the general superintendance; and the pious traveller, who turned aside from the great road of Italy and France to visit these solitudes of Nature, had soon the satisfaction of discovering several rural institutions for the education of the poor, distributed like so many nests for the nurture of unfledged intelligence, amidst embowering shades, and on the Alpine declivities. Her own improvement corresponded with her opportunities; and her natural sympathies with children in humble life, intermingling with her religious feelings, gave a certain vigour and zest, as well as perpetuity, to her important efforts.

In the course of a few years, however, Monsieur Froissart saw, with the deepest concern, the health of his excellent companion visibly decline; till the cold and damp of one of the schools, which she persisted in attending during the most inclement season that had been known even in that climate, produced a rapid consumption. Anxious to try the effect of some change of scene and atmosphere, he induced her to undertake a journey-a short one, to Milan. It was too late; on the third day she was compelled to take refuge in a very mean habitation, and in a very exhausted state. The inmates, it is true, did what good nature might be supposed to dictate, to alleviate her sufferings; but they knew not how to sympathise with the elevated sentiments of her mind. Their ideas were earthly; hers, heavenly.

They offered the alleviation of mirth and gaiety; she wanted the balm of pious intercourse. They brought her the music of the minstrel; her thoughts were more occupied with celestial songs and symphonies. Yet did she not altogether refuse the strain to which her youth had been devoted, and which found even yet a responsive vibration in her heart. On the second evening after her arrival, she consented, therefore, to the introduction of a minstrel, while she sat panting beneath a tall vine, loooking towards the world of light which she hoped soon to enter, and catching, on her languid countenance, the beams of the setting sun, which she contemplated as the emblem of her own speedy descent into the grave. It was a solace to her mind to pursue the analogy, and to indulge the anticipation of ascending from the dark horizon of death into another sphere-into the brightness and purity of other skies.

The minstrel performed his part with admirable dexterity and effect. He touched upon themes, and fetched tones from the depths of melody once familiar and delightful to the listener. The very joy of her youth was kindling; she felt a renovated life; she shed tears of sweet remembrance, and tears, too, of painfully pleasing recognition. One word she at length pronounced so warmly, so impressively, and with such irresistible pathos "Riccolto ?"—that the minstrel dropped his instrument, while she invited him to her sisterly arms, and each found in the other the long-lost compan1on of early years! It was to her a streak of sunshine bordering the dark valley of death! It seemed to light her passage to the tomb, if it did not almost excite a wish for delay in the regions of vicissitude and sorrow.

We attempt not to describe their emotions; nor do we relate the story of his personal adventures during the long years of their separation. Her life was now prolonged only a few days; but they were employed in endeayouring to inform the rude and ignorant mind of her brother. It was with little effect; he sympathised with her sufferings, but not with her religion: yet was he not absolutely unaffected. He watched the decay of nature with deep interest; he wondered at the peace of her dying hour; and he stood, with the deepest natural feeling, to witness the spirit of his sister, so much beloved, so little understood, stretch her eager pinions for the immortal flight.

It was her last request, that he would lay aside his wandering habits, and endeavour to naturalize himself with those among whom she had spent so many happy days. She was influenced in making this request by a secret hope that better principles might gradually, though incidentally, enter his mind. Her anticipations were not unfounded. From utter aversion at first, which was only overruled by the request of his dying sister, and which, with minds not entirely hardened, has generally the force of a law, he at length became pleased with his new situation; and the religious instruction which he was the medium of transmitting to the different schools in the form of books, tracts, and Bibles, finally caught his own attention, and was made the instrument of renewing his own heart. Then he discovered the secret spring of that peace which irradiated the closing scene of his sister's pilgrimage; participated in its enjoyment; and, at the distance of only eighteen months, was suddenly transported, by a rapid fever, to the society of his departed relative, and the holy visions of immortality.

The Amulet.

FLORELLA.

By the late W. GIFFORD, Esq.

SIBEL ELKIN:-A SKETCH OF 1276.

"AND is Mo Elkin taken ?" said a handsome young man, laying down his pen, as the person whom he addressed mentioned that name amongst many others as belonging to Jews imprisoned that morning.

Long"Ay, that he is. shanks may shake his monies now, that is, when he can find them, for the But I think I know old fellow has kept his mouth close enough as yet. what will bring him to confession. Longshanks will promise him liberty to be banished, with a mighty pretty damsel that clung closely to him this morning. But-"

This very morning I spied out the old hider.

I mean he at least, I mean how glad I "Speak tell me, where is she? am he's safely lodged. But where did you find him?"

"Marry, I think the news hath blanched your cheek! Does joy usually take this effect on you? Or was it sorrow at hearing the maiden had escaped? Now tell me candidly, Roger, why this emotion? Surely you may trust me; for that there is more in this than common, I am convinced. But beware what you do."

"Oh, Walter press me not now; but tell me, where did you find him?” “Or, rather, where did I find the maiden? Well I will tell you; but we had better not be heard-step into this closet, it is not known to many." As he said this, Walter drew back part of the skins that hung round the walls, and concealed a small door, through which they crept, and closed it after them. The shadows of night had closed round the city, in one deep sable curtain, when a tall dark figure issued from the massy gate of the white tower, and after turning down several irregularly built streets, crossed some green meadows, and at length entered the small village of Eysaldon.*

One faint, glimmering light was seen through the hole in the roof of a small but tolerably neat cottage. To this the stranger proceeded. He knocked. "'Tis my father. He has escaped," screamed a female voice, as the hut door opened, and a lovely girl rushed towards the intruder, and as quickly started from him as he entered the hut.

"Sibel, dearest! can'st thou not think how much it has cost me to hear of thy misfortunes? Tell me, what can I do for thee? Though thou shouldst still scorn me, I will risk my life, name-ay, all but my soul."

"Leave me, Roger Walsingham! leave me! Art thou not serving our persecutor? Wilt thou not glory as my father's grey hairs mix with the dust?” Stop, Sibel, i' the name of our common God, stop! Thou knowest not my heart. Say but thou lovest me, Sibel."

"And what would that avail? Said I not before, when we where flying the home of our father's; said I not then, I love thee? and I say so now, Roger-I love thee as my life, peace, virtue, father-but I have a soul, If thou can'st let me see my father, I Walsingham-I will not risk that. will bless thee as well as a poor Jewess can. I will own there was a time I thought Roger-but I will not say it, for 'tis useless now. Go, and tell the christian king-I fear him not, Moses Elkin is innocent. Take me to him. Let me throw myself at his feet; I will plead for him---but, alas! I forget; I too, am liable to imprisonment. My God! the God of Ismael, knows, I do not wish to hide from it, but for my father's sake."

"Sibel, I must once more leave thee, for time wears, and by break of day I must 'tend our sovereign. Then will I plead thy father's innocence and thy worth. It will be hard an' I cannot procure his life. At least, I can die with thee, dearest."

Try it not, then, if thy life might answer. Tell me but how I might obtain entrance to the proud Edward, and I will plead. I can but yield a prissoner then, and perchance I might soothe the last hour of iny only parent." "Come not near the palace, Sibel, but wait me here to-morrow night. Till then, farewell."

Now Islington.